“I’m going to buy a little automatic pistol to-morrow,” said Nyoda, “and teach everyone of you girls how to shoot it.”
“I wonder if we hadn’t better try to get Calvin Smalley to sleep in the house,” said Migwan.
“I can take care of you,” said Tom, proudly. Nothing else was talked of for the remainder of the evening and when bed time came there was a general reluctance to become separated from the rest of the household. But, although they listened for footsteps in the attic they heard nothing, and the night passed away peacefully.
The next night the ghost became active again. Whether it was the same one or a different one they did not find out, however, for they did not see it this time, only heard it. Just about bed time it was, a strange, weird moaning sound that filled the house and echoed through the big halls. Whether it proceeded from the basement or the attic they were unable to make out; it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Migwan clung close to her mother and trembled. The sound rang out again, more weird than before. It was bloodcurdling. Nyoda opened the window and fired several shots into the air. The moaning sound stopped abruptly and was heard no more that night, but sleep was out of the question. The girls were too excited and fearful. The next day Mrs. Gardiner advised everybody to hide their valuables away. The peaceful life at Onoway House was broken up. The household lived in momentary expectation of something happening. “And this is the quiet of the country,” sighed Migwan, “where I was to grow fat and strong. I’m worn to a frazzle worrying about this mystery.”
“So’m I,” said Gladys.
“And I’m getting thin,” said Hinpoha, which brought out a general laugh.
“Not so you could notice it,” said Sahwah. Whereupon Hinpoha tried to smother her with a pillow and the two rolled over on the bed, struggling.
As if worrying about a burglar were not enough, Sahwah and Gladys had another exciting experience one day that week. If we were to stretch a point and trace things back to their beginnings it was the fault of the Winnebagos themselves, for if they hadn’t gone horseback riding that day—— Well, Farmer Landsdowne came over in the morning and said he had a pair of horses which were not working and if they wanted to go horseback riding now was their chance. The girls were delighted with the idea and flew to don bloomers. None of them had ever ridden before and excitement ran high. Naturally there were no saddles, for Farmer Landsdowne’s horses were not ridden as a general rule, and the girls had to ride bareback.
“It feels like trying to straddle a table,” said Migwan, marveling at the width of the horse she was on. “My legs aren’t half long enough.” She clung desperately to his mane as he began to trot and she began to slide all over him. “He’s so slippery I can’t stick on,” she gasped. The horse stopped abruptly as she jerked on the reins and she slid off as if he had been greased, and landed in the soft grass beside the road.
“Here, let me try,” said Sahwah, impatient for her turn. “He isn’t either slippery,” she said, when she got on, “he’s bony, horribly bony. He’s just like knives.” She jolted up and down a few times on his hip bones and an idea jolted into her head. Getting off she ran into the house and came out again with a sofa pillow, which she proceeded to tie on his back. Then she rode in comparative comfort, amid the laughter of the girls.