The thought of a week of dishwashing braced the mate, and, lighting a lantern, he pushed open the companionway door and went out.
Almost immediately he was back again, white and shaking. “Say, boys, saw something queer in there—something white moving round—sure’s you’re born!”
“Did you find out about the boot?” inquired Ransom, inexorably.
“No; didn’t wait.”
“You had better go and find out.”
“I wouldn’t be hired to go in there.”
“Well, we’ll find out.” Frank wore a superior air, but he kept close to Kenneth for all that.
The whispers of the wind grew into shrieks as they approached the barn, and, as Frank reached out his hand to grasp the door-catch, a damp leaf slapped his face. Opening the door cautiously, they poked in their heads and looked. Startled, they saw a dim gray shape in the middle of the big open space, and as they were about to turn and run, the ghost stamped hard and whinnied gently. “Step Lively” was glad to see something alive and human.
“Hullo, old beast, broke loose, did you?” Kenneth was very bold; went up to the horse, felt her leg.
“Boot’s off, all right, but we’ve got the laugh on Art.”