“Yes sir, I did. That tree was standing like any other tree, with its branches pointing upward, and when he said those words of his, one of the limbs pointed out so,” said Peleg, indicating the movement with his finger.
Mr. Graves looked rather hard at Peleg, as if he did not know whether to believe the statement or not, and the boy met his gaze without flinching. When Peleg told a lie he generally looked down at the ground.
“Well, go on. What did you see next?”
“Well, sir, when we got a little further he said I would hear something pretty soon, and it would make me wish that I had never been born. I tell you I did hear it, and—Oh, my soul! How can I ever tell it!”
“What did it sound like, Peleg?” asked his mother.
“A dead tree was standing a short distance away and when Nat went on with his words: ‘Here I am and there I am,’ one of the branches on that tree let go all holds and came down to the ground with a crash and broke all to pieces. I certainly thought I was going with it, too.”
For the first time that day Mr. Graves uttered an exclamation of disgust, turned on his heel and went into the house for his rifle.
“You can hear those sounds right here on the place,” remarked his mother. “That’s nothing new.”
“The little fule!” exclaimed Mr. Graves, who just then came out again with his rifle. “You got so frightened with the ghosts that you don’t know the signs of falling weather when you hear them. It is going to rain very shortly.”
“Well, I just want you to go up there if you dare,” said Peleg, somewhat taken aback by this explanation of the phenomenon which had frightened him. “Here you are, making all sorts of fun at my ghost stories, and you have gone and got your rifle to protect you. Leave that at home if you are not afraid to go up to Jonas’s house without it.”