"Yer said that once before," snapped Summers looking nervously about him, "get on with your story."
"Well I am, ain't I?"
"Not fast enough."
"Waal this is a ghost story and ghosts don't move fast."
"Ho! ho!" laughed Bellew hollowly.
"As I was sayin', grandpop didn't like the idee of some night seeing a tall form, all in white, come gliding down among them tombstones, and raising its hand cry to him in a solemn voice—"
"Wow."
The shout came from Summers. He had suddenly felt something light on his shoulder. Thence it had crawled to neck and laid clammy feet upon him. It was an immense dragon fly, but he had evidently mistaken it for something else, to judge by the start and exclamation he had given.
"Ain't gittin' on yer nerves, be I?" asked the black-mustached man innocently.
"No, no. Get on with your fool story for goodness sake."