"And since the door did open to let us in, suppose we take advantage of it," suggested Betty, "and go in."
"What—into the—the haunted house!" and Grace's voice was shrill.
"Now see here!" began Betty, and her voice was as severe as she could make it, for she recognized that now was the time to get the situation well in hand. "This house is no more haunted than you are, Grace Ford."
"But—but——"
"'But me no buts,'" quoted Betty, merrily—as merrily as possible under the circumstances. "We are going to be sensible—and—go in."
Suiting the action to the word she advanced into the hall, through which the wind was now sweeping in rather mournful gusts. Mollie hesitated a moment, and then followed her chum. The action of the two leaders with the lanterns had a good effect on the others.
This might have been accounted for in two ways. The presence of Betty and Mollie in the hall may have had its effect, or the kindly lights of the auto, glowing so cozily, disclosed a shelter that, whatever its disadvantages, at least afforded dryness.
Then, too, the taking away of the lights from the three of the party who remained outside may have added to the effect. At any rate Grace stepped into the hall, followed by Cousin Jane, and then timid Amy, finding herself alone on the small porch, scurried in.
"Well, we're here!" said Betty, with a smile—rather a pale effort to tell the truth, but a smile nevertheless. "Now what is the next thing to do?"
"If we had only brought something to eat," sighed Grace. "And our chocolate outfit!" for they carried one, with a small alcohol stove, that they might make a hot drink when they stopped at noon for luncheon.