CHAPTER IX—ANOTHER FLIGHT
“What do you suppose that means?” demanded Fred in a whisper.
“Things are seldom what they seem,” said Grant.
“What do you mean?” again demanded Fred, turning sharply upon his friend. “Don’t you think there are lights there? Didn’t you hear the sound of the automobile horn?”
“I certainly did,” acknowledged Grant, “but that isn’t all there is to it. There are some things we don’t see in connection with these things.”
“Come on,” urged George, “let’s all get out and go in there and see if we cannot see those other things that Grant is telling about.”
For a moment there was silence in the little party, but at last, as no one was desirous of being looked upon as cowardly by his friends, all four boys stepped down upon the ground.
“Come on, Uncle Sim,” called George. “You aren’t going to be left behind.”
“We don’ lose one car,” remarked the aged negro, his teeth chattering as he spoke.
“And we don’t want to lose another, do we, Uncle Sim?” said George. “I don’t think anybody can take it without our knowing it, so you can come along, Uncle Sim, if you want to.”
“Yas, suh. Yas, suh,” responded the negro. “D’rec’ly, d’rec’ly.”
George laughed, as the old man slowly and with manifest reluctance climbed down upon the ground. His “mis’ry” plainly was unusually troublesome, for he walked with a great effort and very slowly. Indeed, he groaned with every step that he took, as he followed the boys on their way to the old house.
Silence fell upon the party when they drew near the building. No lights now were to be seen in any of its windows. Silence rested over the quaint old structure and apparently there was nothing to explain the strange sights and sounds which recently had issued from the venerable building.
“You boys stay here and go into the house by the front door and I’ll go around to the kitchen,” said George.
“What for?” demanded Fred.
“Why, we’ll be more certain,” explained George, “to find out if there is anything wrong here if we come at the old house from two sides.”
“I think I’ll go with you,” spoke up Grant quickly.
“There’s no need of that,” protested George sharply. Indeed the lad spoke too sharply, for the suspicions of Grant were instantly aroused by the evident desire of his friend not to have him accompany him. Knowledge of that fact, however, was sufficient of itself to increase Grant’s determination.
“We had better divide up the party evenly,” he suggested. “John and Fred can stay here and watch this side and I’ll go with you around to the kitchen door.”
With manifest reluctance, though he made no further protest, George accepted the suggestion of his friend and together the two boys soon disappeared from the sight of their companions.
“Who’s that?” whispered Fred as he grasped the arm of John, who was standing beside him, and pointing to an approaching figure of a man.
“That’s Uncle Sim,” replied John after a hasty glance at the approaching form.
John’s words were verified when a few moments later Uncle Sim, his voice trembling and his terror manifest in his entire bearing, approached the spot where the two boys were standing. Indeed, had it not been for the presence of John and Fred, Uncle Sim with all his “mis’ry” would not have been induced to approach the uncanny place.
“Come on,” said John a moment later. “We’re going into the house to find out about those lights.”
No protest was made and together the two boys, followed by Uncle Sim, whose reluctance manifestly increased with every passing moment, pushed open the sagging front door and entered the front room.
For a moment they were unable to distinguish any objects in the darkness. From the small windows the faint light entered, but it was not sufficient to enable the boys to see about them. Suddenly the strange whirring of winds was heard again. Now the sound came from the ceiling and then again it seemed to the startled boys that it was close to the place where they were standing. Back and forth and up and down the strange sounds continued, occasionally broken by a plaintive note as if the creature that was darting about the room was in terror or pain.
Uncle Sim, unable longer to control his feelings, began to pray, but even his prayer did not prevent him from speedily fleeing from the room.
Fred glanced through the open door and saw the old negro making most excellent time as he ran across the field toward the waiting automobile. Under other circumstances he would have laughed heartily, but just now there was excitement sufficient to prevent the boys from following the retreating old negro.
In the midst of the sounds of the wings suddenly a prolonged groan was heard. It seemed to both Fred and John that it issued from some place close to them. Several times the startling noise was repeated and then was followed by a strange whistling.
For some reason, which neither of the two boys explained to the other, they had not advanced farther into the room. Both glanced behind them to make certain that the door was still open and their way of escape was unimpeded.
“Where are the other fellows?” whispered Fred.
“I don’t know. Shall I call them?”
“Yes,” said Fred eagerly,
“Hello, there is George. Where are you, Grant?” called John, striving to speak boldly, though in spite of his efforts his voice trembled as he spoke.
Instead of a response from their companion a faint sound of an auto horn was heard in the old building. It was mournful beyond the power of either boy to describe. Instead of the sharp, short “honk,” it was prolonged and weird.
“This is too much for me,” said Fred sharply. “I have seen all I want to see. The other fellows aren’t here and I’m not going into this old house any further unless I can see my way.”
“What’s that? What’s that?” whispered John excitedly.
As he spoke the sound of some one running around the corner of the house was heard by both boys. In a moment John and Fred were outside the old building and as they became aware that the fugitives were George and Grant they lost no time in following them.
In the distance Uncle Sim could be seen climbing into the automobile. It was marvelous too what excellent time all four boys were making. Swiftly as George and Grant were running they were soon overtaken by their companions and together all four arrived at the place in the road where their automobile had been left.
At that moment there came a sound from the old Meeker House very like a wild burst of laughter. This was repeated and the terror of Uncle Sim became still more pronounced.
“There goes that auto horn again,” said George, as he grasped the wheel and looked behind to see if his friends were ready to start. “Uncle Sim,” called George just before he started, “I wish you would see if that back tire on the left is all right. We don’t want to start out on a flat tire.”
“Yas, suh. Yas, suh,” answered Uncle Sim quickly, as he obediently climbed out of the car and inspected the tire. “It’s all right, suh,” he repeated. “It’s all right.”
In his eagerness to be gone George at once started, unaware that the aged negro had not yet returned to his seat.
His ignorance was speedily dispelled when from the darkness behind them came several agonizing calls for help, “Hi dar, don’t leave me! Don’t leave me! Wait! Wait dar!”
As the boys glanced behind them they saw the old man running swiftly toward them and making even better time than when he had departed from the old Meeker House.
Obediently George stopped the automobile and in a moment Uncle Sim, breathless and excited, climbed into the seat.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand, Uncle Sim,” said George, laughing as he spoke.
“Yas, suh. Yas, suh,” responded the negro. “Dat’s jes’ de way I feel.”
“What I can’t understand,” said George, “is why it is so hard for you to walk when you are working around the place and it’s so easy for you to run when you have been left behind.”
“Dat’s so. Yas, suh,” answered the negro. “I jes’ cain’t explain dat mahself.”
Apparently George was the only member of the party that was willing to talk and even he soon lost his desire as few responses were made to his various suggestions.
Uncle Sim, however, with chattering teeth and trembling voice, frequently expressed his displeasure over the attempt of the boys to belittle the sounds which had come from the old Meeker House.
At last Uncle Sim declared solemnly, “I jes’ made up my mind how dat ar automobile was taken.”
“How was that?” demanded George.
“It’s de spooks back in de ole Meeker House. Dey make all de trouble.”
The four boys were now far enough from the scene of their recent adventure to permit of their looking more calmly at their surroundings. Their former fear had departed as the distance between them and the old house had increased. When Uncle Sim made this solemn declaration as to the cause of the loss of the automobile they all laughed heartily, although the aged negro strongly maintained his repeated declarations.
“Yas, suh. Yas, suh,” he declared, “Dar’s somethin’ strange ‘bout all dis rumpus. Yo’ hear de spirits in de ole house and you see de lights from de windows, and den you hear de autermobile ho’n. Dat’s de way it is, yas, suh. Yo’ couldn’t find that automobile if yo’ was to search dat old house from de cellar up to de garret and yet de ho’n kept er blowin’ and er blowin’ all de time.”
“I think you’re mistaken, Uncle Sim,” laughed George.
“No, suh. No, suh. Dat’s jes’ de way it is. I feel shore you’ll neber see dat autermobile agin.”
“You think it is in the old house?” demanded Fred.
“No, suh. No, suh. I didn’t say as how it is exac’ly in de ole house, but what I says is dat de persons what’s in de ole house can tell yo’ what become of dat ar autermobile, an’ it was our autermobile ho’n what was er blowin’ dar. Yas, suh, I’d know dat ho’n if I heard it er hundred miles from here.”
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said George suddenly.
“Tell ahead,” said Fred. “What is it you’ll do?”
“I’ll dare the crowd to go back to the old Meeker House.”
“We’ll take your dare,” responded Fred promptly.
CHAPTER X—THE CAPTURE IN THE PASS
There was no enthusiasm manifest among the four boys when again they walked across the field on their way to the old Meeker House. As they came near the building, suddenly lights were seen in the windows once more and a faint sound of the automobile horn again was heard.
“Shall we go in?” inquired Fred, his voice trembling in spite of his attempt to control it.
“It’s getting late,” suggested George. There was a note of laughter in his voice, but his companions were so excited that they were scarcely aware of it. “Perhaps we had better put it off until some other time.”
“That’s the way I feel about it,” joined in John.
“All right,” said George, “and we must look after our car too. My father wouldn’t want me to lose the old car as well as the new one.”
Like the famous soldiers who marched up the hill and then marched down again, the Go Ahead boys without protest on the part of any member of the party retraced their way to the road and silently took their places in the car.
Conversation lagged and when at last they arrived at George’s home they left the car in the garage and then quickly entered the house.
When they came into the room where the lights were shining they stared blankly at one another for a moment and then laughed loudly.
“What a pack of brave fellows we are, aren’t we?” said George.
“We are going to find out about that old house,” declared John quietly.
To the surprise of the boys George’s father had arrived during their absence. He was an interested listener to the story which the boys had to relate, although none of them detected the sly glance which passed between him and George. Evidently there was something understood by them which was unknown to the others.
“Yes,” said Mr. Sanders when the boys were seated in the room. “There have been some strange occurrences in this part of the country from the days when it was first settled.”
“I guess that’s so,” said Grant. “We were hearing about the young fellow who was captured up here in the Ramapo Pass in the Revolution.”
“Do you mean young Montagnie?”
“We don’t know his name,” replied Grant, “but it was the one who was used by Washington as a messenger without his understanding it.”
“That’s the fellow,” said Mr. Sanders. “I have always been greatly interested in him. I do not think people ever have appreciated the part he took in the plan which Washington wanted to try. He was a fine young chap, about twenty years of age, and was a licensed preacher. Washington had heard such good reports of him that when he came to try his plan he sent for young Montagnie one morning up on the Hudson at Dobbs Ferry. It was there the Continental army was encamped at the time. The general told Montagnie that he had heard good reports of him and the young soldier was so embarrassed that he could only stammer his thanks. Then Washington went on to tell him that he wanted him to go across the country and through the Ramapo Pass and carry a message to General Heath, who was then at Morristown. He explained carefully how the papers were to be sewed inside the lining of his coat. Young Montagnie agreed, but suggested that he knew a better way across the country. There was danger of his being taken if he should go down through the Ramapo Valley. It is said that Washington drew himself up to his full height and looked sternly at the young soldier as he thundered at him, ‘It is your business to obey.’ And of course there was nothing more to be said.”
“He must have had a strange feeling when he went down through the Pass,” suggested John. “He knew what the danger was and at the same time he knew that he could find his way safely across the country without going into the Pass. It seems strange that he did not suspect the trick Washington was trying to play.”
“Apparently he didn’t suspect anything,” said Mr. Sanders. “It was early in the morning when he entered the narrow defile. The only weapon he had was a stout club and he was swinging along at a good rate, confident that if he once safely got through the Pass many of his perils would be over. He had just entered one end of the Pass when he saw five men coming in at the other end.
“He instantly recognized the leader as young Richard Smith, whose father he had seen hanged up in Goshen a few days before this time. You see his father was one of the worst of the cowboys. At least many of his dastardly deeds were committed against the colonists, but he didn’t stop for that and he was willing to have dealings with either side, provided he made by the transaction.”
“What was he hanged for?” inquired John.
“Why, the people became so indignant at last that about two hundred of the boys and men started after him one day. Of course he ran then, but they chased him clear down to Long Island.”
“Did they catch him?” inquired John.
“They most certainly did, and they brought him back to Goshen and he was hanged there in the courtyard. Then his son, Richard, declared he would revenge his father’s death and it was this young man whom Montagnie saw when he came into the Ramapo Pass just at sunrise that morning away back in 1781.
“The young messenger felt of the letter inside the lining of his coat to make sure that it was safe and grasping his club more firmly and doing his utmost to appear indifferent he at once turned and approached the men. Very likely he would have run if he thought he could escape in that manner, but he had no weapon except his club while the others were armed. He well knew that if he should try to escape they would at once start after him.
“He quietly saluted the men when he passed them and received a grunt from Richard in response. However, he was not critical, as now he was hoping that his peril had been passed. He was not to get away so easily, however, for before he came out into the open road he was hailed by the men behind him and ordered to stop. Once more the young preacher was tempted to run, but he was aware that his effort would be useless. Accordingly he waited for the men to come back to him, and when Richard Smith gruffly demanded who he was and where he was going he answered in a general way saying that he was simply going across the country, ‘That won’t do,’ said Richard loudly, ‘that may mean to New York or it may mean to Morristown. Who are you anyway?’
“By this time Montagnie was convinced that he was in deadly peril and he quickly decided to sell his life as dearly as possible. Swinging his club he knocked down one of them and leaping over his prostrate body started up the steep side of the Pass. For some reason he was not fired upon but before he gained the top he was astonished to see two of the party whom he had left in the valley now approaching from above him, almost as if they had dropped out of the clouds.”
“How did they do it?” inquired Grant.
“Very likely they knew of a short cut. At all events the young messenger was caught between the two parties. They took him to a little shanty in the woods and then began to search him. They cut his hat into shreds, and of course found nothing valuable. Then they made him take off his coat and as soon as they had cut the lining they discovered the letters which were hidden there.
“Young Montagnie expected every moment that he would be shot or hanged. One of the common methods of hanging employed by the cowboys in those days was to put a noose around the prisoner’s neck, tie the rope to the limb of a tree after they had put the man on horseback, and then, when they struck the horse and it started quickly, the wretched victim was left hanging in the air. But for some unexplained reason young Montagnie was simply kept in the house three days. Then when he still confidently believed that he was being led to his death he was taken down the Hudson and carried across to New York, where he was shut up in the old Van Cortlandt Sugar House, which stood near the corner of what is now Broadway and Cortlandt Street. You see there were so many American prisoners in New York that the British had to make use of some of the big buildings besides the jails.”
“Yes,” suggested John, “I have heard that they used some of the churches as jails.”
“They did,” responded Mr. Sanders.
“Well, what happened to young Montagnie?”
“I was just about to tell you,” said Sanders, smiling as he spoke. “Naturally he felt very bitter when he found himself a prisoner in the old sugar-house. He was so thoroughly convinced that his capture was useless and that he might have made his way successfully across the country to Morristown, that he was angry at Washington for his arbitrary command.
“However, three days later his keeper showed him a copy of Rivington’s Gazette. Rivington was a printer in New York and was a very bitter Tory. Montagnie was not especially interested when he first took the paper, but in a moment he was keenly excited when his eye fell upon an announcement that one of Washington’s messengers had been captured and that valuable information had been found concealed in his coat. The statement further announced that in this paper was a letter from General Washington to General Heath in which the commander explained that he was about to attack the British in New York and expected to find General Clinton entirely unprepared for such action.
“And at that very time,” resumed Mr. Sanders, “Washington with his little army had crossed the Delaware River and was on his way toward Yorktown to help Greene and Lafayette. It was impossible now for Clinton to leave New York, believing as he did that it was about to be attacked, and even after he had found out the trick which Washington had played upon him it was too late for him to try to transport his army by sea because Washington would arrive at Yorktown before the red coats possibly could come to the aid of Cornwallis. The battle of Yorktown followed, as you know, and Cornwallis and his army were made prisoners. Indeed it was at Yorktown that really the final independence of the Colonies was won. But I have always felt that the part which young Montagnie took in winning the victory at Yorktown has never been known as it ought to be.”
“What became of him?” inquired Fred.
“I don’t know. I have often tried to find out,” replied Mr. Sanders. “You see the men in those days were so busy making history that they had little time in which to write it. As a consequence there are many things which we would like to know, but do not.”
“Now,” continued Mr. Sanders as he arose from his seat, “I understand that you boys have lost an automobile.”
“We didn’t lose it,” exclaimed George; “it was stolen.”
“It seems to me,” said Mr. Sanders, “that if you had an automobile and haven’t one now you must have lost it, whatever the way in which it disappeared.”
CHAPTER XI—THE SEARCH FOR THE MISSING CAR
“What are you going to do?” inquired Mr. Sanders.
“We don’t know what to do,” explained Fred. “We thought when you came out here you would tell us.”
“I think I shall leave it for you boys to settle among yourselves.”
“But don’t you want to get your car back?” demanded Grant in surprise.
“Indeed I do,” said Mr. Sanders.
“Then,” exclaimed Grant, “I should think you would want to help us find it.”
“It’s possible that I may try some plans of my own,” explained Mr. Sanders, “but meanwhile I am willing for the Go Ahead boys to see what they can do in the way of restoring the car.”
“It’s a strange thing,” said George, “how that car ever could have been taken out of our yard without some of us hearing it. I explained to the boys,” he added laughingly, “that it was such a good car that they couldn’t hear the engine.”
“That may be true,” spoke up Fred, “but we had another explanation.”
“What was that?” inquired Mr. Sanders.
“Why, we said some of the fellows were making so much noise that they might have taken a threshing machine out of the garage and not one of us would have heard it.”
“I don’t mind explaining to you,” said Mr. Sanders, “that I have sent a brief description of the car to several of the nearby cities. My impression is that the automobile hasn’t gone very far from home, but one cannot tell about that. Perhaps we shall get some word from Newark or New York pretty soon.”
“Do you think they would take that car to New York?” demanded Fred. “I thought George said that they had had trouble a year or two ago when a lot of automobiles were stolen and taken down to Lakewood or somewhere along the Jersey shore.”
“That may be true,” said Mr. Sanders. “I have taken a few steps in the matter, but I am going to leave the most of it to the Go Ahead boys. I shall expect you to get some trace of the car before I come out for the week-end. I am compelled to go back to the city to-morrow morning, so I must leave you boys to your own devices.”
“Well,” said George just before the boys sought their rooms, “to-morrow morning we’ll start out and begin our search for that missing automobile.”
The following morning, after the departure of Mr. Sanders, the boys were soon ready for their expedition. That is, all were ready except John, who, for reasons which he did not fully explain, said that he would wait until the following day before he joined in the search for the missing car.
Before the three boys and Uncle Sim took their seats in the automobile Fred drew his elongated friend to one side and pulling his head down until it was on a level with his own whispered to him.
The conversation between the two friends was brief, but when Fred responded to the hail of his comrades and ran to take his seat in the automobile, there was an expression upon his face which indicated that the cause of the failure of John to accompany them was not altogether unknown to him.
In a brief time the car with its inmates disappeared around the bend in the road and John was no longer to be seen.
“I think I’ll go first to Paterson,” explained George, to the two boys, “and then I’ll stop at every garage along the road between there and Newark.”
When they arrived at Paterson they sought the quarters of the chief of police and all three boys entered the room.
George was the spokesman for the party and he briefly explained the loss which had befallen them.
The chief of police listened attentively, made notes of several statements which George made and then said, “We shall do our best for you. The trouble is that stolen cars frequently are mutilated or repainted or something is done to them which prevents an owner from recognizing his own property.”
“My father too is sending out word about the car,” suggested George.
“That’s right, that’s the only thing to do. It’s one of the things you never can tell about. You may find the car in a country garage, or in a big city, or you may not find it at all.”
“Don’t you think we’ll find it?” demanded George.
“I cannot say. Have you offered a reward for its recovery?”
“I don’t know,” admitted George. “My father has charge of that. If he has offered a reward he hasn’t told me about it.”
“Yes, I see,” said the chief slowly, looking sternly at George as he spoke. “There may be reasons why he doesn’t want to tell you about it.”
“What reasons?” demanded George.
“If you don’t know I shan’t tell you.”
“Do you think we took the car?” demanded George hotly.
“I’m not saying anything about that part of it. I don’t know. I’m going to take your directions and do my best to locate the car and the thief too, if I can. It won’t make any difference to me where I hit or who it is. When we find the party that stole the car shall we report?”
George was too angry to continue the conversation and turning abruptly from the room he joined his companions, and together they hastily reëntered the car.
“Never mind, George,” said Fred cheerfully; “don’t forget that we’re the Go Ahead boys, and if the car is anywhere in Jersey we’ll try to find it.”
“But we haven’t any plan,” suggested Grant. “What do you intend to do, George?”
“Find the car. That’s as far as I have got now. I think I will stop at every garage along the road and find out if any one has seen or heard anything about our lost car.”
“You’ll stand about as good a chance of finding it as you will of finding a needle in a haystack,” laughed Grant. “However, if that’s what you want, I’m perfectly willing to go along with you.”
“That’s very kind and considerate on your part,” remarked George dryly, as the car started swiftly along the country road into which they now had turned.
“I don’t see anything,” suggested Grant, who was the first to break in upon the silence. “I don’t see anything to prevent the thief taking the car into New York City or going to Philadelphia with it.”
“There isn’t anything,” said George quietly.
“And even after he has gone into New York or Pennsylvania he can come back again and double on his tracks. I don’t see much hope of your ever finding your car.”
“Perhaps we shan’t find it,” admitted George, “but I belong to a crowd that’s known as the Go Ahead boys and we aren’t beaten before we start, anyway. If we have to give up it will be after we have done our best.”
“That’s the way to talk!” broke in Fred. “We’re going ahead anyway and we’re going to get where we started for, too.”
“What will you do if you find your car?” inquired Grant.
“Take it, of course,” said George.
“But suppose somebody has bought it from the thief? He won’t give the car back to you without your proving that it belongs to you.”
“Then we’ll prove it,” said George quietly.
“What will you do with your thief if you find him?”
“I’ll wait until I find him,” said George.
“You know,” broke in Fred, “I sometimes think it wasn’t any thief that stole that car anyway.”
“What do you mean, pygmy?” demanded both boys together as they looked keenly at their diminutive friend.
“You know just as well as I do,” said Fred sturdily.
“I haven’t the remotest idea what you mean,” said Grant. “You’ll have to try to make the point plain.”
“You mean,” retorted Fred, “that you have to be helped to see a point once in your life.”
“Go ahead, Fred,” called George sharply. “What do you mean?”
“Why you heard the tooting of that horn in the old Meeker House the same as I did,” said Fred.
“You think the car is in that old house?” demanded Grant.
“I didn’t say so,” said Fred, “but I do say that the horn that belongs to George’s car is in that old house, or else the horn that is there is so like it that you couldn’t tell them apart.”
George laughed quietly and said, “Next thing, Fred, you’ll be telling us that the spooks stole the car.”
“I’m not so sure that they didn’t,” said Fred.
“If they did, then what we’ll find in the old Meeker House will be only the ghost of the car, I’m afraid.”
Conversation ceased and at every garage along the road George stopped and made inquiries concerning the missing automobile.
It was late in the afternoon when the Go Ahead boys turned homeward. Not an inkling had they received of the stolen car. Several times they had been informed that “A good many cars of late have been stolen,” but the knowledge brought neither comfort nor light.
“George,” suggested Fred, “suppose we go home by the road where the old Meeker House is.”
George smiled dryly as he replied, “All right. The way is as short if I turn in there as in any other way. What are you looking for, the ghost of the lost automobile?”
Fred shook his head and did not reply, but when at last in the dusk they drew near the place where the mysterious old house was standing, all were convinced that they heard a faint sound of an automobile horn coming from the place.
CHAPTER XII—A HASTY DEPARTURE
As the speed of the automobile was instantly decreased, Fred said excitedly, “Stop, George! I say it is time for us to find out about this thing and quit all our foolishness.”
“What do you want to do?” demanded George.
“I want to go into that old house and find out just what all this mystery means.”
“I don’t dare leave the car,” said George.
“Then you stay here and look after it,” retorted Fred. “Grant and I will make our own inspections, won’t we?” he added as he turned to his companion.
Grant did not speak, but as he quickly leaped out of the car his example was at once followed by Fred and together the two boys started toward the house, the dim outline of which could be seen before them.
It was an ideal summer night. There was no moon, but as there were not many clouds in the sky the two boys were able to see about them in every direction. Crickets noisily were proclaiming their presence and the not unmusical notes of the tree toads joined in a chorus that arose from every side.
In silence the boys approached the front door of the house and just as they were about to enter there came again that mocking sound of an automobile horn.
In spite of his declaration of his courage Fred instantly gripped his companion’s arm. Neither of the boys spoke as they halted for a moment on the stone door-step.
The startling noise of the horn was followed by sounds even more unexpected. There were shouts and calls and cries issuing from within the building. In the midst of this strange confusion there was also heard the sound of laughter.
The combination at first appeared to be almost too strong for the nerves of the two Go Ahead boys. For an instant they turned and were looking back at the road where George was waiting for them in his automobile.
“Come on,” said Fred, his voice trembling in spite of his courageous attitude. “Come on in, Grant. We must find out about this thing.”
Before Grant could reply, suddenly around the corner of the house two men were seen. Both were running swiftly and apparently were unmindful of the presence of the boys.
The two ghostly forms moved swiftly across the intervening field and were apparently running directly toward the automobile in the road.
The sight was more than either Grant or Fred was able to endure. Without another word both leaped from the stone steps and in their swiftest paces ran down the old pathway eager to gain the shelter of the waiting automobile.
“What’s the trouble?” demanded George as his companions joined him. “What’s happened? Is there anything wrong?”
“Don’t talk about it now,” said Fred. “Put on all the speed you have got and we’ll tell you later what happened.”
“I don’t believe there’s any such great need of haste,” said George dryly. “Why not go back and find out what the cause of all the trouble is?”
“You may go if you want to,” retorted Fred, “but I’m not going to try it again to-night.”
“The Go Ahead boys apparently are in motion, but not in the right direction,” suggested George demurely.
“The right direction,” declared Fred, “is straight toward your house.” As he spoke he glanced again at the Meeker place and as he did so discovered the two ghostly forms that were still moving across the field.
“Both of them came out of the house,” he said in a loud whisper, “while we were on the front door-step.”
“Oh, I guess not,” said George tantalizingly. “It’s probably two men that took a short cut. They were coming from the other road.”
“Don’t you believe it!” maintained Fred stoutly. “They came out of that old Meeker House. Didn’t they, Grant?” he added, turning to his friend for confirmation.
“Yes, they came out of the house,” said Grant brusquely. It was plain the boy was not enjoying the recollection of the swift flight which he and Fred had made to rejoin George.
“Get your car under motion,” said Fred sharply. “We don’t want to stay here any longer. We’ll tell you what happened when you get out on the main road.”
“Just as you say,” laughed George.
A moment later the automobile was moving swiftly down the road. As it came near the place where the two forms had been seen it was evident that both were seeking to gain the road in advance of the automobile.
“Maybe the spooks will try to get this car, too,” suggested George in a low voice.
At that moment there came a hail from the two men in advance and at the sound George laughed loudly.
“Do you know who that is?” he demanded, turning to his companions.
“Who is it?” inquired Fred.
“Why it’s John and Uncle Sim. They want to ride home. I guess I’ll pretend not to know who they are and put on a little more speed.”
As he spoke the car began to move more swiftly, a sight which at once called forth louder shouts of protest from the two men who now were near the fence along the roadside.
“Let them in. Let them in,” said Grant.
“All right, just as you say,” replied George, and as he spoke he brought the automobile to a standstill.
“What do you want?” he called to the two men who now were climbing the fence.
“We want you to take us home,” replied one of the two.
“Is that you, John?”
“It certainly is.”
“Well, I couldn’t tell,” laughed George. “You look more like a string than ever. Is that Uncle Sim with you?”
“Yas, suh. Yas, suh,” spoke up the negro promptly.
“Then you have been over to the old Meeker House, have you?” inquired George as John and the colored man took their seats in the car.
“Yes, we have been there,” abruptly replied John.
“You didn’t seem to stay very long,” suggested George. “Were there any special reasons why you didn’t want to tarry any longer?”
“Dere sho’ was,” spoke up Uncle Sim, his teeth chattering as he spoke. “Yas, suh. Yas, suh, dere sho’ was.” Lifting his face toward the sky the old colored man muttered some incantations or prayers which in a measure indicated the terror which possessed him. He was trembling in every limb and when he tried to speak his lower jaw, over which he apparently had lost control, resounded as it repeatedly struck the teeth on his upper jaw.
“Never mind, Uncle Sim,” said George, noticing the abject terror of the old man. “We’ll soon be out of this. I don’t see why you went back there when you’re so afraid of the old place.”
“Yas, suh. Yas, suh,” stammered Uncle Sim. “I don’ went jes’ because dis young man ‘sist on my goin’ wif him.”
“Was he afraid to go alone?”
“Yas, suh. Yas, suh.”
“Did he think he would be less scared if there were two than he would be if he was there alone?” laughed George.
“That’s all right, George,” broke in John, “you don’t know what you’re talking about. If you had heard what we did you would have made better time than either of us when we were trying to head you off.”
“What did you hear?”
“Why, we heard the same old sound and a lot more. Just as true as I am sitting here there was a voice that sounded all through the house and it was calling, ‘John, John’.”
“Did you answer it?”
“Did I answer it? No, sir, I didn’t answer it. I was out of that house before you could count ten.”
“I didn’t know that it affected you that way,” laughed George, “to have anybody speak to you.”
“It doesn’t to have any live body, but that name was sounded all through the house. It wasn’t loud either, it was just that whispered, ‘John, John,’ that I don’t think I shall ever forget as long as I live.”
“It seems to have affected Uncle Sim even worse than it did you,” suggested George, as Uncle Sim clasped his hands and lifted them far above his head and offered various incantations, as if he were doing his utmost to ward off the evil spirits.
“Well, all I have got to say,” explained George at last, “is that the Go Ahead boys ought to change their name.”
“Why?” demanded Fred sharply.
“Because it seems to me that they can leave any place and make better time than anybody I have ever seen. Even Uncle Sim forgets his rheumatism and ‘mis’ry’ and keeps up with John when he races across the field. To-morrow morning I will give John one dollar if he will make as good time from the old Meeker House out to the road as he made to-night when it was dark.”
“Never you mind about that!” retorted John. “You didn’t see all that I saw.”
“But you haven’t told us what you saw.”
“I told you something I heard. If you had heard your own name coming down the chimney and through the windows and up from the cellar, out of the attic, in the hallway, down the stairs and everywhere at the same time you wouldn’t have stayed there any longer either.”
“Perhaps I wouldn’t,” admitted George, “but my feeling is that you didn’t hear half as much as you thought you did.”
“No, sir,” responded John. “I have told you only half what I did hear.”
“Well go ahead with your story.”
“I’m not going to talk until we get home.”