“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Nan. “Once, not long ago, father and I were riding by after dark. I’m sure I saw a kind of brightness in the thick woods where we knew that old tavern was. It was brighter, yet somehow pale; made me think of ghosts right away.”
“What did your father think of it?”
“He never said, but when I spoke of it he drove along faster; but all he’d say was, ‘Shucks!’ I guess he don’t more’n half believe in them ghosts nohow.”
They laughed at this, but they noted that the timber grew thicker as the car glided at slow speed along the little used road. Finally Nan began pointing in a certain direction as the road curved, and a thicker growth of cedar, pine and other evergreens began not far away.
“It’s somewhere in there,” she said. “We’ll glimpse some of the roof and walls presently.”
Sure enough, as the car hummed along, through the thick foliage they glimpsed weather beaten walls and parts of a roof covered by roughly rived boards, with gaps here and there, and all brown with age. It looked as if it might be eighty to a hundred yards back from the mere wagon trail the road had now become.
“Shall we stop and take a look?” asked MacLester, gradually slowing up. “It’s bright, noonday sunshine and if there are any haants about, I reckon now’s the time of day when they take a rest.”
But as the car slowed down Nan’s alarm began to increase. Phil watched her curiously. She did not look like a girl unduly afraid of ghosts, at midday especially. Yet it was plain enough to see that she was vaguely uneasy. After all, why stop now? They knew where the old tavern was and could begin their investigations later. Besides, they did not want outside witnesses.
“Better drive on, Davy,” said Phil. “We must take Miss Nan home.”
The girl’s relief was evident at once when Dave increased the speed. In another minute or so the house was no longer visible. Paul, looking back, said half to himself: