“Oh, poppycock!” exclaimed Ned. “Ghosts don’t swipe money out of bureau drawers. Besides—”
“Besides they couldn’t spend it if they had it,” said Dutch. “Just the same I think it’s sort of funny about that thing we saw in the apple orchard; and then Spud seeing something in white in here just a little while after and—and—”
“Look here, Cal,” interrupted Hoop, “you said you dreamed of robbers last night, didn’t you?”
“Yes, it seemed to be robbers.”
“There you are then! Robbers it was! Or, at least, a robber. There was one in the house, don’t you see, and although Cal didn’t get wide awake his consciousness warned him of danger and—”
“Oh, you fellows make me tired,” said Ned peevishly. “Forget about the money. I guess I can get some more somewhere.” He turned to Cal. “Sorry I can’t lend you that two, though, Cal,” he said constrainedly. “You see I’m wiped out.”
“It doesn’t matter, thanks,” replied Cal. “I cal’late I’ll have to get some money from home.”
They discussed the affair for half an hour longer, Spud and Dutch advancing ingenious theories to connect the mysterious visitant in the orchard with the midnight marauder in the Den. Claire—or Clara, as we ought to call him to conform to custom—sat enthralled and timorous. Claire was only thirteen, we must remember, had been brought up on fairy stories and was far from being convinced that ghosts were all moonshine. Presently Spud recalled the girl that he and Cal had seen that evening next door and told about her and her cryptic remark when they were carrying the apples home.
“I think,” said Spud, “that that kid knows more than she’s telling.”