"Why no, Miss," said the driver reluctantly. "I don't know as they actually seen things, but they has heard queer noises. There was some boys once," he went on, warming to his task of story teller, "as thought they'd have some fun. You know the old lady what owned the place was nearly allus away and just left it to a caretaker that didn't take over much care of it—" He stopped to chuckle, and the girls leaned forward eagerly.
"What about them?" asked Billie impatiently.
"Well, they thought as they'd play burglar an' break into the place an' make a regular lark of it."
"Weren't they afraid they'd get caught?" asked Laura.
"Not with Sheriff Higgins on the job," chuckled the driver, in high good humor now that he was getting off his favorite yarn. They were nearing the house and the girls hurried him on impatiently.
"Well, they heard such funny humming noises and jingling like the rattling of chains an' things," said the driver, "that they got most scared to death and ran back home like the old Nick was after them. Ever since then folks has said the place was haunted."
"Stuff and rubbish!" said Mrs. Gilligan, as the team came to a stop before the house. "A nice lot o' talk I call that to fill the girls up with. Rattlin' of chains and hummin' noises! Huh!" And with her nose in the air to show her contempt of all such notions she swept out of the carriage.
The girls followed, and ran back to the wagon that contained their luggage and some provisions. The boy who had been driving this wagon was already unloading it, and the old fellow who had told them such gloomy tales came hobbling back to lend a hand.
Billie fished in her pocketbook for the key to the house which was supposed to be haunted, and, finding it, held it up with a hand that was not quite steady.
"Come on," she said. "We've got to do it, I suppose."