“I think you had better be very careful how you visit in that neighborhood,” retorted Miss Alling, briskly. “More than one person has gone to the swamp never to return.”
“Oh, how thrilling,” cried Amy. “That explains Phrosy’s ghosts, doesn’t it? Maybe she didn’t imagine those noises after all.”
“Good gracious, Amy, I wish you would stop,” said Nell, with a shiver. “I declare, I feel creepy already.”
“No wonder—listening to Phrosy’s wild stories,” said Miss Alling. “Suppose we change the subject. For instance, how do you like my lodge, now that you are here?”
The change of subject was a fortunate one, and it was not long before Phrosy’s ghosts had been forgotten in the delight of inspecting the cozy interior of the lodge.
There was a combination living room and dining room opening off from the kitchen, and it was into this room that Phrosy had ushered them. By the light of the oil lamps they could make out the picturesque roughness of the raftered ceiling and side walls.
The walls were almost completely covered by handsome animal skins and rifles, and at one spot over the open fireplace depended the huge antlered head of a deer.
Woven rag rugs covered the rough boards of the floor, and at each side of the fireplace was a wooden settle. A large table surrounded by cushioned, comfortable chairs completed the furnishings of the room.
“All the comforts of home,” said Darry, and grinned at Aunt Emma. “My, I am glad you invited us.”
“You don’t live here,” retorted the lady. “The lodge isn’t big enough to accommodate all of you, so I have commandeered a small cabin just back of us. It has only two rooms, but as you boys will probably spend most of your time here I guess the cabin will be large enough for you.”