He halted with a sharp intake of breath, and raised his head to look up the garret stairs. It was very dark up there, for the door that opened into the great, open room extending the full width of the main part of the old Corner House was closed. In winter the children seldom went up there to play; and Uncle Rufus never mounted to the garret at all if he could help it.
“What’s dat?” he suddenly whispered.
“Tap, tap, tap; tap, tap, tap!” went the sound that had caught the old man’s attention. It receded, then drew nearer, then receded. Uncle Rufus turned a face that had suddenly become gray toward the three little girls.
“Dat’s—dat’s de same noise used to be up in dat garret befo’ your Unc’ Stower die, chillen. Ma mercy me!”
“Oh!” squealed Alfredia, turning to run. “Dat’s de garret ghos’! I’s heard ma mammy tell ’bout dat ol’ ha’nt.”
But Tess seized her and would not let her go.
“That is perfect nonsense, Alfredia!” she said very sternly. “There is no such thing as a ghost.”
“Don’ you be too uppity, chile!” murmured Uncle Rufus.
“A ghost!” cried Dot, coming nearer to the attic stairs. “Oh, my! What I thought was a goat when I was a very little girl? I remember!”
“Dat’s jest de same noise,” murmured Uncle Rufus, as the tapping sound was repeated.