Was it Jo or his father? That was Ann’s first thought, but she wanted to make sure. From a second window in her room, across a corner, she could see the windows of the barn which the Baileys had made into a living room, and she leaned far out to see clearly. Jo was there. He was talking to some one at the back of the room.
If Jo and his father were talking together, who could be prowling around the boat? She crossed the room to look again at the schooner. And as she watched, the bright pin prick of light disappeared; the lantern had been carried behind some opaque object that hid it.
“What’s up, Ann?” Ben stirred restlessly in the adjoining room. “It will be morning before you get to bed.”
“Oh, I was looking out of the window. The stars are so bright in Maine!”
“Ann! What do you think about that ship? I feel as if ghosts lived on her.”
Ann climbed her little flight of steps and slid down between upper sheet and feathers.
“Nonsense,” she called to Ben. “Ghosts don’t carry lanterns.”
“What?” Ben’s voice sounded much more awake. “What did you say, Ann?”
“I said I don’t believe in ghosts.”
Ann slid farther into her feather nest and promptly went to sleep.