"Nor don't I," rejoined his companion seriously. Both were superstitious men, a failing apparently not shared by Bellew, who stood regarding them, seated easily sideways in his saddle, with an amused look.
"Hey Bellew, why don't you come an' look. You alters wuz a good tracker?" demanded Red Bill looking up suddenly.
"Not fer me, thanks," was the easy response, "ef you want to hunt spooks—"
"Who said it wuz a spook or any such pack uv nonsense?" glared back
Summers.
"I didn't," declared the black-mustached man with great positiveness.
"No more did I," angrily sputtered Red Bill "thar ain't no such things nohow."
"I dunno," said the black-mustached man seriously. "I do recollec' hearing my old grandmother, back East, tell about a ghost what she seen once. Want ter hear about it?"
No one replied, and taking silence for consent, he went on.
"Grandmother was married to a decent old chap that was a teamster. He used to haul farm stuff to the city in the day and it was often pretty late afore he got out again. Well, on his way he had to pass a cemetery, a buryin' ground you know, and I tell you he didn't like it. It sort of got on his nerves to think that some night one of them dead folks lying there all so quiet might arise from ther graves.
"It seems as how it allers haunted him ter think that some night as he wuz drivin' by that ther buryin' ground—"