Overcoming their natural eerie fears the Camp Fire Girls did listen. The sobbing was fainter now.
“Girls!” exclaimed Natalie firmly, seeming to become imbued with a new courage, “that’s some poor creature in trouble. We’ve got to help!”
“But—but suppose it’s one of those criminals,” suggested Alice, giving a glance over her shoulder.
“Criminals don’t cry—that way,” declared Natalie. “They aren’t sorry enough to cry—until after they’re arrested.”
“But how can we help this—this person when he is up the chimney?” asked Mabel.
“How do you know it’s a ‘he’?” asked Marie.
“Well, call it the ghost, then,” admitted Mabel. “How are we going to rescue the ghost from the chimney.”
“It isn’t in the chimney,” went on Natalie, who seemed to have assumed charge of matters. “Only the sound comes down that way. I understand it all now. The secret room is near the chimney. The ghost is in the secret room.”
“She will have that secret room!” murmured Marie.
“There is some poor person in trouble,” went on Natalie. “Maybe he fell and sprained its ankle and she can’t walk, just as I did.”