“What else? Tell us about it. Why don’t you talk?” demanded John impatiently.
“It isn’t anything I want to talk much about,” said Fred positively in a low voice. “I tell you there’s something strange about that house. I went over there late this afternoon and found a tramp.”
“Where?” broke in George. “In the house?”
“Yes, it was in the house and he at once offered to become my guide, counselor and friend.”
“What do you mean?” inquired Grant.
“Just what I say,” said Fred. “He showed me through the old building. Finally he took me into the cellar and left me there, though he took pains not to close the old cellar-door. For a while I didn’t mind it, but when I found I couldn’t get out of the place, for the windows were too small for me to crawl through, and I couldn’t lift the big door, I didn’t know just what to do.”
“Well, what did you do?” demanded John.
“Why, I called, shouted and whistled through the window, but I couldn’t get anybody to pay any attention to me. Yes, there was one who heard me,” he added. “He was a small boy driving a cow and when he heard the calls from the old Meeker House he lost no time in withdrawing from that part of the country. Even the cow he was driving seemed to feel just as he did, for her tail went up and her head down and she joined in the race in that graceful, polite way that cows have when they run.”
“It’s plain you saw something besides the spooks then,” said George, laughing heartily. “Look yonder,” he added quickly, pointing as he spoke toward the end of the piazza.
In the dim light Uncle Sim was seen standing there, his eye-balls shining and his intense interest in the conversation of the boys manifest in the expression of his face.