The storm had moderated, and Tom now had to hasten back to camp where he was welcomed for he had for distribution a large bag of apples, given him by Jackie's father.
That evening about the camp-fire Tom recounted his adventures to his friends, and a trip was planned for the next day to explore the secrets of the old house.
The following morning, after drill and the camp duties had been performed, Tom, Dick and Ben set out for the scene of the previous day's excitement.
“I don't believe half of these ‘haunted house’ stories,” said Tom, “ever since–,” and here he stopped.
“Yes, ever since you thought we had a real ghost, and suggested leaving the poor spirit to its own reflection while you and the rest of us made for home,” broke in Dick.
“When was that?” questioned Ben.
“Why, about a year ago,” Dick responded, “four of us spent a night in a house with a ‘haunted’ reputation, and after numerous fake alarms, caused by the wind shaking the windows or banging the shutters, we at last got track of the real disturber, who happened along the very night we were on watch.”
“Who was it?” questioned Ben, eagerly, while Tom, remembering his temporary terror on that night, grew suspiciously red in the face.
“None other than a marauding cat,” Dick replied, “whose head had stuck in a can it was drinking from, and who knocked the unwelcome helmet on the floor in an effort to disengage it.”
The boys had now reached the old mansion, and a trip through its ruined rooms failed to reveal anything unusual, so after gathering another supply of apples, the three returned to camp.