"Then it's worth investigating," announced the Boston man. "It is certainly a very mysterious affair, and you, at least, Mr. Town Marshal, should back me up in the effort to unravel it. Tell me again just what it was you saw and what it looked like."
"I won't let no man tell me what my duties are," snorted Anderson, his stars trembling with injured pride. "Of course I'm going to solve the mystery. We've got to see what's inside that house. I thought it was tramps at first."
"Well, lead on, then; I'll follow!" said Bonner with a grin.
"I thought you was so anxious to go first!" exclaimed Anderson with fine tact. "Go ahead yourself, ef you're so derned brave. I dare you to."
Bonner laughed loud enough to awaken every ghost in Bramble County and then strode rapidly toward the house. Anderson Crow followed slowly and the rest straggled after, all alert for the first sign of resistance.
"I wish I could find that derned lantern," said Anderson, searching diligently in the deep grass as he walked along, in the meantime permitting Bonner to reach the grim old doorway far in advance of him.
"Come on!" called back the intrepid leader, seeing that all save the marshal had halted. "You don't need the lantern. It's still daylight, old chap. We'll find out what it was you all saw in the window."
"That's the last of him," muttered Isaac Porter, as the broad back disappeared through the low aperture that was called a doorway. There were no window sashes or panes in the house, and the door had long since rotted from the hinges.
"He'll never come out. Let's go home," added Ed Higgins conclusively.
"Are you coming?" sang out Bonner from the interior of the house. His voice sounded prophetically sepulchral.