"I fancy the ghosts are nothing but rats and bats," said Tom. "Come on," he continued. "It's damp enough to give one the rheumatism."
From the parlor they passed to a sitting-room. Here there was a huge open fireplace, filled with ashes and cobwebs. As they entered the room they heard a rushing noise in the chimney.
"What's that?" cried Stanley anxiously.
"Birds," answered Dick. "I suppose they have made their home in the chimney, since it is not used for fires."
In a corner of the sitting-room was an old table, and on it several musty books. The boys looked the books over, but found little to interest them. As relics the volumes were of no value.
"Come on to the dining-room," said Tom. "Maybe we'll find something good to eat."
"Ugh! I don't want anything here," answered Stanley with a shudder.
"Wouldn't you like a piece of ghost pie, or some specter doughnuts?" went on Tom, who was bound to have his fun.
"Nothing, thank you, Tom."
The dining-room of the house was in a wing, and to get to it they had to pass through a pair of folding doors which were all but closed. As they did so all heard a peculiar rustling sound, but from whence it came they could not tell.