"We'll scare them. That's what we'll do!" she said. "A bunch of us girls will 'wait upon' Kate and Lottie as the old saying goes. We'll tell them that if they don't keep still we'll blind-fold them and make them walk the plank. If there are enough of us we ought to turn the trick."
Such methods were risky, as none knew better than the conspirators.
"Still, if we choose the right time and place we ought to get by with it all right," Nan decided, after some talk on the subject.
"And if we don't, then will be time enough to go to Miss Jane," added Jo.
The secret club called itself the "Knights of Darkness" and giggled a great deal in private over the title.
Rumors of this club—to which only a special few were admitted—came to the ears of Kate and Lottie, who were hurt because they had not been invited to join. So when two notes reached them mysteriously one day they joyfully prepared to obey the summons contained therein.
So ran the nonsensical contents:
"At fifteen minutes to twelve on Friday night next meet the gathering of ghosts in the haunted cellar beneath the house. Be prompt and make no noise lest ghosts shall take to heel and naught remain."
The signature was a drawing of an irregular figure attired as far as could be ascertained in something resembling a pillow slip.
The "haunted cellar" was, of course, the gymnasium, and in this promptly at quarter to twelve on Friday night a ghostly company assembled. The figures were arrayed in sheets that persisted in getting under their feet and tripping them, much to the giggling delight of the wearers.