“I would hate to try,” said Jessie, trying to laugh. “Probably we would end up by walking into the lake. Oh, Darry, where are the others?”
“Right ahead of us. Why, Jess, what is the matter?”
“Darry! Listen! Oh, what is that?”
From the direction of the marsh came a sound, eerie, moaning, rising to a terrible wail and dying off gradually into a throbbing silence. It came again and again.
Jessie caught Darry’s hand and ran wildly, blindly, toward the lodge.
CHAPTER XVI
FROM THE SWAMP
The girls and boys burst into the lodge to find Phrosy on her knees, hands raised heavenward in supplication.
“Dos ghosts is after me! Ah done knows it! Dis time dey gwine kill me fo’ sure!”
“Nonsense, Phrosy,” scolded Miss Alling, but even her voice was not so assured as usual. “That was only a fog horn.”
“An’ what am a fog horn doin’ out in dat swamp, Miss Emma?” quavered the colored woman. “Ain’t no boats out dere as Ah knows on.