“Just a minute,” said Scoop, fumbling with the key.
And now comes the part of my story that always gives Mother the shivers!
There was a sound from behind. And wheeling, I got the scare of my life. For coming at me out of the shadows was a white, vapory, gliding thing, shaped like a man, yet without arms or legs.
I screeched and pounded. And every second that Scoop fumbled with the lock the ghost glided closer and closer. Its invisible feet were now on the porch steps. I could detect a pair of horrible, consuming eyes.
“I’ve been using the wrong key,” muttered the fumbler.
Well, I guess I would have jumped right through the door if it hadn’t swung open.
I tumbled in a heap at my companion’s feet. Sort of clutching his legs for protection.
“The ghost!” I screeched. “Shut it out—quick!” [[173]]