He broke off with a shrill squeal of fright as Cavvy’s flashlight, sweeping suddenly across the room, brought into clear relief an unmistakably human form, lank and white-clad, looming up beside the rough shelves that hung between the fireplace and the window.
Furn’s cry choked, died away, changing to a surprised gasp which, in its turn was drowned in the shout of laughter that came from the others. For what the clear white light revealed was nothing more spectral than the lank figure of Ted Hinckley clad in voluminous white pajamas—he had been the only one to so thoroughly prepare for bed—and placidly munching the remains of a cold baked potato.
For a long moment he stood motionless, paying not the slightest attention to the noise, and continuing to eat the cold potato as if it had been the most delicate of viands. Then, as the remaining scouts woke and added their clamorous questioning to the din, an odd change came over him. He started slightly and the potato slipped unheeded from his fingers. His eyes, already open, widened, and into them came a dazed, bewildered stare which merged presently into a broad, sheepish grin.
“Sleep-walking again, Ted?” inquired Cavvy, when he could get his breath.
“Doggone it!” mumbled Hinckley. “What the deuce was I doing, anyhow?”
“Eating a cold potato,” chuckled Cavanaugh, “and scaring Furn most to death. He took you for Morford’s ghost. Some ghost, eh, fellows?”
“Oh, you Furny!” laughed McBride.
He clutched the blushing Barber in the ribs and created a diversion for which Furn was only too thankful. Hinckley, chilled in his scant attire, piled wood on the fire and hastily sought his blankets, but it was a good while before the chuckles died away and silence fell upon the cabin, this time to last until morning.
There was more joking then, and a good deal of fun was poked at both Barber and Hinckley. But the necessity of making an early start for town cut this rather short, much to the former’s relief.
“I reckon no respectable ghost would stand half a chance with this bunch,” laughed McBride as they started off. He glanced back at the cabin which looked cheery enough now in the full glare of the morning sun. “It’s a swell place, fellows, and I don’t see why we shouldn’t make it a regular troop headquarters. If we could scrape up enough money to buy some furniture and fix it up a bit, there wouldn’t be a scout cabin anywhere that could beat it.”