"Stayin' here, you mean?" asked Ed Higgins, quite ready to start. Involuntarily the eyes of the posse turned toward the house among the willows. The stranger saw the concerted glance and made inquiry. Whereupon Mr. Crow, assisted by seven men and five small boys, told Mr. Wicker Bonner, late of Harvard, what had brought them from Tinkletown to the haunted house, and what they had seen upon their arrival. Young Bonner's face glowed with the joy of excitement.
"Great!" he cried, fastening his happy eyes upon the hated thing among the trees. "Let's search the place. By George, this is glorious!"
"Not on your life!" said Ed Higgins. "You can't get me inside that house. Like as not a feller'd never come out alive."
"Well, better men than we have died," said Mr. Bonner tranquilly. "Come on; I'll go in first. It's all tommy-rot about the place being haunted. In any event, ghosts don't monkey around at this time of day. It's hardly dusk."
"But, gosh dern it," exploded Anderson Crow, "we seen it!"
"I seen it first," said Isaac Porter proudly.
"But I heerd it first," peeped up Master Bud.
"You've all been drinking hard cider or pop or something like that," said the brawny scoffer.
"Now, see here, you're gittin' fresh, an—" began the marshal, swelling up like a pigeon.
"Look out behind!" sang out Mr. Bonner, and Anderson jumped almost out of his shoes, besides ripping his shirt in the back, he turned so suddenly.