“On that chest,” said Bobby. “Don’t you see him?”
“Ye—yes; I see him.” And, as if afraid to speak again, the hired man watched the blinking countenance of the stranger closely.
After a moment he got out of bed carefully, saying in a whisper as he did so:
“How long has he been there, Bobby?”
“Ever so long,” was Bobby’s reply. “Ain’t it a ghost?”
“I guess so. I’ll find out, at all events,” and the bold fellow moved carefully towards it.
He approached on tiptoe till he could almost touch it, and then he stopped.
“It’s a ghost, Bobby,” said he, “sure enough; but I’ll fix him!”
He just drew back one arm, and planted a prodigious blow right in the ghost’s stomach; and you ought to have seen that ghost jump!
It went almost out of the window at one leap; but fell short, on the floor, and lay as if dead. The hired man went boldly back and got into bed, remarking: