"Why Ruth, you could not induce one of papa's men to enter the door of the old place. You know they are half scared to death of it," said Margaret.
Chunky's eyes were growing large.
"Wow!" he said. "Let's go out doors and eat."
"The lunch has not yet arrived. It will be here soon," Miss Brayton informed him. "We will spread it in the main room here, if you have no objections. It will be cool and pleasant; and, besides, there are no flies in here."
"For goodness' sake, forget your appetite," growled Ned in Stacy's ear.
"Can't a fellow talk about his appetite without being found fault with?" Chunky sulkily retorted.
"Not the kind of an appetite you have. It's a positive disgrace to the outfit."
"Huh!" grunted Chunky, walking away.
The lad wandered off by himself, and the rest forgot all about him in their investigation of the old church. Miss Brayton told them as much of its history as she knew.
"Some of the former priests are said to have been buried somewhere in the edifice," she said.