CHAPTER II—COWBOYS AND SKINNERS
“I don’t know just what happened next,” laughed George. “There were two peals of thunder so near together that you could hardly clap your hands between them. When the first one came and I heard that call, I didn’t stand on the order of my departure. When the next clap sounded I was away down the road under that old oak tree.”
All the four boys laughed heartily, even George apparently not being crestfallen by his lack of courage on the night he was describing.
“What is it you call the house?” inquired John.
“The Meeker House.”
“You think it’s haunted?”
“I didn’t say so,” responded George somewhat warmly. “I merely said it is a common report that it is a haunted house. I’m just telling you what happened one night when I ran in there to get out of a storm.”
“Poor old house,” said George thoughtfully, as he looked back at the old building, which still could be seen in the distance. “It makes me think of Uncle Sim. He’s the last leaf on the tree and I guess this is the oldest house in this part of the country.”