CHAPTER XIII
A CHANGE OF BASE
"Talk to me about your ghastly specters, will you!" shouted a voice, as heads began to be thrust out of the several tents.
"I told you he'd come again to warn us!" chattered Bluff between rattling teeth.
"Oh! Please wait! My apparatus won't work! There, now!" And a sudden flash announced that Will had finally succeeded in his heart's dearest wish, and snapped off a picture of the terrible ghost of Oak Ridge.
The fierce illumination only added new terror to the flying feet of the two men. They could be heard crashing through the forest, howling with fear, and anger, as in the darkness they collided with sundry trees that were unseen in their blind haste.
"It's gone!" announced Jerry.
"All right. I've caught my view, just the same. Frank! Where are you?" whooped the exultant artist, capering around in his pajamas, as he hugged his camera to his breast.
"Here," answered the sentry, appearing at that juncture.
"A pretty guard, you are, old boy, to let all those chaps creep up on the camp while we slept in unconscious innocence," said Bluff, in pretended indignation.