“You don’t suppose I would let a little thing like that keep me at home, do you?” he queried. “Just watch me.”
At that moment the three officers stalked out again, Aunt Emma, flushed and excited, at their heels. They seemed in a great hurry. They rushed out of the lodge, the girls and boys after them.
Down toward the swamp they ran, the continued wailings of the “ghosts” drowning the sound of their footsteps. Only a few feet from the swamp now, and those absurd white figures still flitting eerily among the trees.
The shrill note of a whistle sounded, followed by the answering shout of men, who came dashing from the shadows.
The shrouded white figures stood still for a moment as though frozen into immobility. Then shrieks and shouts rent the air. The ghosts turned to fly—and were surrounded.
Several of them, dropping the sheets that swathed them, ran for cover, away from the police. But the boys were too quick for them. Darting from their hidden vantage point among the trees, they waylaid the rascals and engaged them in lusty warfare. Back and forth they lunged, fighting desperately, while the girls watched with fascinated interest.
Suddenly Jessie clutched Amy’s arm and pointed through the trees.
“Over there!” she cried. “Do you see what I see?”
“Those are women—trying to get away! Come on!” cried Amy.
Without stopping to think, the girls started in pursuit of the two creatures slinking off through the trees. The women, hampered by their clinging skirts, could not run swiftly, and it was comparatively easy for the three athletic girls to overtake them.