I vill
die, I am sure."
"Yer kin bet on that ez a shore thing, an' I reckon I will, too."
"Listen!" Carl grasped Bud by the arm with the clutch of despair.
There was a faint and stealthy noise on the roof.
Both stood for a few moments listening breathlessly.
Then they heard a faint, far-away wail, like that of a banshee.
Carl threw his arms around Bud in an agony of fear.
"Dere it iss. Ve are gone. All iss lost."
Again the gruesome wail came to them, this time louder and clearer, and
in a moment or two a hand was at the door. The latch clicked softly, and
the door swung slowly open.
CHAPTER IV.
THE BIG COON TREE.
"Hello, what's the matter with you fellows? Are you going to have a
waltz, or is it going to be a two-step, or a catch-as-catch-can
wrestling match? Perhaps you've suddenly grown very fond of one
another."
It was Ted who spoke, standing in the doorway, laughing as if he would
burst his buttons off, at the strange tableau in the middle of the
floor, Carl clinging to Bud, who was trying to shake him off.
"Let loose o' me," shouted Bud. "Why, ther feller's plumb daffy on
ghosts. He says as how this shack is haunted, an' he's plumb loco."
"Yah. Didn't we just hear der ghostes yell mit der outside?" said Carl,
who had been thrust away from his clutch on Bud, and was standing in the
middle of the floor, trembling like one with the ague.
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