"How will they know? They won't be able to see me any more than you can," said the ghost. "It's easy as shooting."
"Well, I don't know if it's square," said Parley. "In fact, I do know that it isn't; but if I get through this time I won't get into the same fix again."
"That's just the point," returned the ghost. "You're young, in spite of your trying not to be, and you've got into trouble. I'll help you out once, but after that you'll have to paddle your own steam-yacht. I suppose you scientific watermen wouldn't demean yourselves by paddling a canoe, the way we used to."
"I'm sure I'm very much obliged, Mr. Watkins," said Parley.
"Oh, botheration!" cried the ghost. "Mister Watkins! Look here, Parley, we're both Blue Haven boys—somewhat far apart in time, it's true, but none the less Blue-Havenites. Don't 'mister' me. Call me Billie."
"All right, Billie," said Parley. "I'll go you, and after it's all over I'll be as much of a boy as I can."
"That's right," said the ghost of old Billie Watkins, and then he departed. At least I presume he departed, for from that time on to the day of the examinations Parley did not hear his voice again.
What happened then can best be explained by the narration of an interview between Parley and the ghost of old Billie Watkins on the night of the concluding examination-day. Sick, tired, and flunked, poor Parley went to his room to bemoan his unhappy fate. In no single branch had he been successful. Apparently his reliance upon the assistance of Watkins's ghost had proved a mistake—as, in fact, it was, although poor old Watkins was, as it turned out, no more to blame than if he had never volunteered his services.
Flinging himself down in despair, Parley gave way to his feelings.
"That's what I get for being an ass and believing in ghosts. I might have known it was all a dream," he groaned.