“Because when those ghosts, or whatever they are, get to moving things about I want a man, or at least a good-sized boy around,” was the answer.
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Cora. “It isn’t so bad as that.”
“Say it again,” begged Bess. “You told about unseen hands moving chairs and tables.”
“I didn’t mean it exactly that way,” and Cora smiled. “You see there is a man and his wife who have rooms in the bungalow, Mr. and Mrs. Floyd. They look after the place, and they’ll be our chaperons. I did think mother might be able to go with us, but she won’t. But mother knows Mrs. Floyd, and says she’s very nice.”
“I hope the ghosts will be nice,” said Belle.
Cora laughed.
“Oh, you funny girl! Why will you persist in calling them ghosts?”
“Well, aren’t they? Moving chairs about?”
“Is that what happened—or happens?” asked Bess.
“So I understand,” returned Cora. “Mr. and Mrs. Floyd don’t use the main bungalow, keeping to their own rooms. But they wrote mother that, of late, there have been some queer goings on. They said they would go out, leaving the rooms in perfect order, only to find them all upset on their return. Chairs would be misplaced, tables that had been in the middle of the room would be shoved back against the wall. Dishes would be taken out of the closets, and——”