“That time I was telling you about when I ran in there to get out of the rain.”
“Will you go back there now if we’ll go?” challenged Fred.
“I don’t mind going,” said George, “but I don’t believe we’ll have time this afternoon.” His three companions laughed derisively and so aroused his spirit that he said brusquely, “That’s all right, fellows. I’ll go back there as soon as any one of you will go.”
“All right, sir,” called John. “Stop your car, and we’ll all of us go back to the old Meeker House and find out if what you have been telling us is true.”
“Who ever heard,” broke in Grant, “of ghosts walking around in the daytime? The time for us to go there is when the ghosts are showing up well.”
“You didn’t tell us, George, what the ghosts were?”
“No, I didn’t see them,” replied George.
“What do they say they are?”
“Why, the common report is, that ever since the days of the Revolution the ghosts of the Cowboys and Skinners have made their headquarters in the old Meeker House and whenever there’s a night that is especially dark or there is a particularly heavy storm, then they come there and join in the racket.”
“Cowboys?” demanded John. “What do you mean? Those fellows that drive the cattle out on the plains?”