“Don’t!” screamed Mumps, and fell on his knees. “Oh, please, don’t kill me! I—I didn’t have anything to do with killing that other fellow, indeed I didn’t!”
“Thou art doomed!” went on the Imp and his chum.
“Doomed! doomed! doomed!” came from half a dozen. All of the cadets could scarcely keep from laughing.
“Oh, save me!” yelled Mumps, and sprang to his feet. “Save me! Save me from the ghost!” And throwing down his gun he started for the center of the camp, with all the speed at his command.
The other cadets set up a laugh, but the sneak was too paralyzed with fear to pay attention to it. Still yelling for help he ran down the main street of the camp, and plunged into the tent occupied by Captain Putnam.
“Hullo, what’s the trouble?” came from Captain Putnam.
“Oh, the ghost! Please save me from the ghost, Captain Putnam!” howled Mumps, and clutched the master of the Hall by the arm. “Save me! The ghost is going to kill me!”
“Why, Master Fenwick, what is the trouble? Have you a nightmare?”
“No, sir. It’s the ghost of the murdered cadet! I—I saw it. It came after me! Oh, save me!”
“Nonsense! You have seen no ghost. Be reasonable.”