“You mean, follow the boys?” asked Nell, doubtfully.
“We will follow nothing but our own inclinations,” retorted Amy. “I want to find those ghosts.”
“Good! Suppose we pack us a lunch and get started right away!” from Jessie. “We may find out more about Phrosy’s ghosts than the boys do before we get through.”
Miss Alling helped them pack a lunch—though they really had not the slightest intention of being gone more than an hour or two—and they were soon ready to start on their own prospecting expedition.
“This is the life!” cried Amy, as they swung along a rock-strewn sloping trail that led in the direction of the swamp. “The boys thought they would leave us at home to twiddle our thumbs, did they? We’ll show them!”
But as they approached closer to the swamp and were enveloped by the damp, unpleasant vapor rising from it, their spirits underwent a decided slump. Nell and Amy held back, and finally Jessie was forced to wait for them to catch up to her.
“What is the matter? Not afraid of ghosts, are you?” she teased them. “Why, you haven’t even seen any yet.”
“I keep expecting to have them jump out at me from behind the bushes,” confessed Nell. “I have a horrible feeling that those ghostly white figures are chasing us.”
“Goodness, let’s hurry then,” said Amy, with a laugh and a nervous glance over her shoulder. “At the rate we are going they will surely catch up to us.”
“I guess this is about where the swamp begins,” said Jessie, sliding a foot about in the oozing mud. “See how rank the vegetation is.”