A chorus of approval greeted this suggestion.
“Bully stuff, Ned!” cried Charlie Rogers. “Great idea! And if there don’t happen to be any honest-to-goodness ghosts on the job, we can manufacture a few just to keep up the interest.”
“What do you think it would cost to fix up the old shebang?” asked Wilbur, who, despite his rather affected laziness, was beginning to take an interest in the scheme.
“Oh, not a whole lot,” replied Ned, glancing about with an appraising eye. “As Dick says, the floor is our chief consideration, and if we do the work on it ourselves, the only expense will be for scrapers and sandpaper. We can string bunting and flags to cover the breaks in the walls and ceiling. We’ll have to lay a floor over that stair-opening, or somebody will manage to tumble through into the cellar, but I guess we can find enough lumber around here to do the job.”
“How about lights?” inquired Sanford. “There isn’t an electric line within five miles.”
“We’ll use candles,” decided Ned. “A dim light will be just what we want for ghost stunts anyhow, and candles won’t cost much if we buy ’em in wholesale lots.”
“Shall we figure on refreshments?” asked Rogers.
“Sure thing!” asserted Dick. “The Pavilion sells ice cream and soft drinks; we can do the same and serve the stuff from the butler’s pantry. That will be just the job for Fatty!”
“Nothing doing!” objected Beals in an injured tone. “I draw the line on handing out grub for other folks to eat, but I’ll manage the refreshment business and get our darky, Sam, to serve the stuff. Sam used to work in a restaurant and can do the trick in style.”
“All right, then,” announced Ned, who had, by common consent, assumed leadership, “let’s get organized into working shape. There are seven of us, and if we chip in two dollars each, it will put fourteen dollars into the treasury for immediate expenses.”