"Do you hear what he says?" whispered Rose to her brother.
"Yes. But I'm not frightened. Are you?"
"Nope. What's a ghost, anyhow, Russ?"
"Oh, it's something white that comes in the dark and scares you."
"Well, it isn't dark now," went on the little girl, "so we're all right. And at night, when it is dark, we go to bed, so I don't guess we'll see any ghost."
"No, I guess not. But listen!"
Grandpa Ford was speaking again.
"Of course I don't believe in ghosts," he said, "and I only use that name, speaking about the queer things at Great Hedge, because I don't know what else to call them. Your mother," he went on to Daddy Bunker, "calls it the same thing. We say the 'ghost' did this or that. In fact we laugh over it and make fun of it. But, all the same, it is very strange and queer, and I should like to have it stopped, or explained."
"Do you think Mr. Ripley can stop it or explain it?" asked Daddy Bunker.
"I should think he could," said Grandpa Ford. "Mr. Ripley owned Great Hedge a long while before he sold it to me. He ought to know all about the queer, big old house, and why there are so many strange noises in it."