"
"Well, that's neither here nor there," said Mr. Crow, hastily changing
the subject. "We're wastin' time."
"Stayin' here, you mean?" asked Ed Higgins, quite ready to start.
Involuntarily the eyes of the posse turned toward the house among the
willows. The stranger saw the concerted glance and made inquiry.
Whereupon Mr. Crow, assisted by seven men and five small boys, told Mr.
Wicker Bonner, late of Harvard, what had brought them from Tinkletown to
the haunted house, and what they had seen upon their arrival. Young
Bonner's face glowed with the joy of excitement.
"Great!" he cried, fastening his happy eyes upon the hated thing among
the trees. "Let's search the place. By George, this is glorious!"
"Not on your life!" said Ed Higgins. "You can't get me inside that
house. Like as not a feller'd never come out alive."
"Well, better men than we have died," said Mr. Bonner tranquilly. "Come
on; I'll go in first. It's all tommy-rot about the place being haunted.
In any event, ghosts don't monkey around at this time of day. It's
hardly dusk."
"But, gosh dern it," exploded Anderson Crow, "we seen it!"
"I seen it first," said Isaac Porter proudly.
"But I heerd it first," peeped up Master Bud.
"You've all been drinking hard cider or pop or something like that,"
said the brawny scoffer.
"Now, see here, you're gittin' fresh, an--" began the marshal, swelling
up like a pigeon.
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