“Boo! it’s spooky,” repeated her sister.
“It won’t be, after we clean it up.”
“And Eva says that’s when the haunt appears—on stormy days.”
“I declare! you’re a most exasperating child,” said Ruth, and that shut Agnes’ lips pretty tight for the time being. She did not like to be called a child.
It was a day or two later that Mrs. McCall sent for Ruth to come to the back door to see an old colored man who stood there, turning his battered hat around and around in his hands, the sun shining on his bald, brown skull.
“Good mawnin’, Missie,” said he, humbly. “Is yo’ one o’ dese yere relatifs of Mars’ Peter, what done come to lib yere in de ol’ Co’ner House?”
“Yes,” said Ruth, smiling. “I am Ruth Kenway.”
“Well, Missie, I’s Unc’ Rufus,” said the old man, simply.
“Uncle Rufus?”
“Yes, Missie.”