"Vell, dot vos nice! Oxcuse me while I haf a chill!"

At this moment a hollow groan seemed to come from beneath the chair on which Hans sat, and the Dutch lad gave a jump, getting on his feet quickly, and peering under the chair, his face growing pale, as he chattered:

"Vot vos dot, ain'd id?"

Some of the other boys were not a little alarmed, for all had heard it distinctly.

"It--it actually sounded like a groan!" said Wat Snell.

"That's what it did," agreed George Harris.

"But you know it couldn't have been anything of the sort," laughed Frank, "for you fellows do not believe in ghosts."

"Who--who--who said anything about ghosts?" stammered Snell.

At this moment another groan, louder and more dismal than the first, seemed to come from directly beneath the table.

There was a scrambling among the boys, as they hastened to get their legs from beneath that table.

"I don'd feel very vell aroundt der bit uf mein stomach," gasped Hans.

"I pelief I vos going to be sick alretty yet."

One of the boys held the light, while they all looked under the table, but they did not find anything there.

"Now, that is singular," commented Harvey Dare. "If that wasn't a groan, I never heard one in my life."

"And a real ghostly groan at that!" said Leslie Gage.

"I never did take any stock in this rot about ghosts, but----"

"Beware, young man, how you mock at the spirits of the departed!"

The voice seemed to come from one of the alcove bedrooms, and it was of the sort to make the hair stand on the head of a superst.i.tious person.

"Oh, dunder und blitzen!" panted Hans. "Dot vos a shook! Uf I don't ged avay oud uf here righd off, I peen gone grazy! I don'd vant any shook in mine!"

"It is some fellow playing a joke on us," said Harvey Dare, angrily.

"Some one has concealed himself in there. Bring the light, fellows, and we will soon find out."

He started for the alcove, but no one seemed anxious to take the light and follow him. After a moment, however, Frank did so.

All through both alcoves Harvey searched, and his face was rather pale when he and Frank returned to the table.

"What did you find?" asked Wat Snell, thickly.

"Not a thing but dust," replied Harvey. "There hasn't been a living soul in either of those bedrooms since the room was closed after the suicide."

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the hollow voice. "You are right. They dare not come, but I am doomed to stay here till this building shall crumble and decay."

"Vell, you may sday till der cows come home!" gurgled Hans; "but I don'd peen caught in here any more bretty soon righd avay, you pet!"

and he made a break for the door.

The others quickly extinguished the light, and followed him.

There would be no more gatherings in that room.

CHAPTER IX.

IN THE MESHES.

Frank Merriwell fancied he had hit upon a scheme to stop the card games from which he could not remain away. Being a skilled ventriloquist, he was the author of the dismal groans and the mysterious voice that had so alarmed the boys.

Bart was not in the secret, and so he wondered, when he heard Frank chuckling to himself, after they had safely reached their room and were getting into bed.

For several days the "gang" was disconsolate, having no place in which they could play a game of cards without fear of detection at any instant.

Frank Merriwell seemed restored to his usual jolly self. He laughed and joked, and did not seem worried over anything.

But the "gang" would not remain long without a place in which to play cards.

One day Frank received an invitation to "sit into a little game" that evening.

Snell tendered the invitation.

Merriwell's face clouded instantly.

"Why, there is no place to play, is there?"

"Sure!" was the reply. "You didn't suppose we'd be knocked out so easy, did you?

"Where do you play?"

"Come along with Hodge to-night, and he will show you. You have been there before."

But Frank did not come along.

Three nights he knew of Bart rising and stealing out of the room. Then there was an interval of two nights, during which Bart, plainly too much used up to stand the strain, or else out of money, remained in his bed.

When Hodge arose again, and prepared to go out, he heard a stir in Merriwell's alcove.

"Are you awake, Frank?" he asked, softly.

"Yes," was the reply, "and I am going with you."

Bart hesitated. He was tempted to undress and return to bed, but he had received his money from home that day and, having lost heavily the last time he played, he was anxious for "satisfaction."