Just then the missing one came around the house clasping a bologna sausage in his fist.

"Ye G.o.ds and little Polydores!" exclaimed Rob.

I caught Diogenes by the arm and rushed him in to Silvia.

I found her in company with an old colored mammy, who was laundress for the hotel.

"Sho'," she was saying, "I done gwine by de windah with ma baby cab full o' cloes, an' dis yer white chile done come tumblin' down an'

fall right in ma cab. Now, what do you think o' dat? I reckon I was nevah so done clean skeert afoah in ma life. An' ef de chile didn't grab one of ma bolognas and done git out de cab an' run around de house."

"Oh," cried Silvia, "poor little baby! Come to mudder. Lucien, where are you going with him?"

I had picked up the acrobatic Polydore and was going up the stairs two at a time. I gained our room, locked the door and proceeded to give the "poor little baby" all that was coming to him. Now and then above his howls, I heard Silvia's plaintive protests outside the door, but I finished my job completely and satisfactorily, and laid the penitent Polydore in his little bed. Then I went out into the hall, feeling better than I had in months.

Silvia essayed to pa.s.s me, but I took her arm and led her to a recess in the hall.

"I am convinced," I told her, "that we have Diogenes as a permanent pensioner on our hands, so it was up to me to show him where to get off. You can't go to him for a quarter of an hour."

We went down stairs and I was sure I read suppressed regret in the faces of most of the guests at learning of the soft place in which Diogenes' lot had been cast. Silvia tearfully told Rob and Beth of my cruelty.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Now and then above his howls, I heard Silvia's plaintive protests outside the door]

"Do him good!" approved Rob heartily.

"How mean men are!" declared Beth indignantly. "I am going up and comfort the poor little thing."

I held up the key to the room with a grin, and she had to content herself by making unkind remarks about me.

At the expiration of the allotted time, I handed Silvia the key. She took it from me without a word or a look. It was quite evident I was in wrong.

In half an hour my wife came down, carrying Diogenes, who, dressed in fresh white clothes, was a good picture of an angel child. She pa.s.sed me and went to a remote corner of the veranda and sat down. When he spied me, he leaped from her arms and ran to me.

"Ocean," he said propitiatingly, "me love oo."

I took him up. His arms clasped about my neck, and over his curly head, I winked at Silvia and Beth.

Rob roared.

CHAPTER XIV

_A Midnight Excursion_

The night was Satan's own: dark, wind-shrieking, and Polydorish. No one saw us leave the hotel when, at a late hour, we started on our little excursion. On account of the darkness and the poor landing near the haunted house, we decided to go by the overland route. I managed to purloin a lantern from the kitchen to light our path.

Rob and Beth kept behind Miss Frayne and myself, and in spite of the wildness of the weather, he was evidently pleading his suit, for now and then above the roar of the wind, I heard his ardent voice.

Apparently Beth had not yet given him any encouragement.

Going down the lane my lantern underwent a total eclipse, so we had a Jordan-like road to travel. Miss Frayne was quite impervious to unfavorable conditions, as it was a matter of bread and b.u.t.ter to her, she said, and she was accustomed to braving worse storms than this, and anyway she hadn't come here for a summer picnic.

When we came into the grove it was so dark, I lost my bearings.

"Why didn't we bring a flashlight?" asked Beth.

"There were none at the hotel," I told her.

"I know some boys," said Rob with a little laugh, "who would have lent us one--maybe."

Fortunately we were well provided with safety matches and after striking a box or so, we gained the open. A rise of ground hid the house, but when we climbed to the top, the ghost loomed up ghastlier than ever.

I felt the business-like Miss Frayne start and shiver as a little scream escaped her. I didn't wonder. Even I, knowing that it was an illusion and a snare, felt my flesh creeping as I looked at the ghastly thing in the window.

Every now and then according to schedule a light flashed from the windows below. And then came the blood-curdling sounds--whimpers and groans that were rivaling the whistling of the wind.

"This is awful!" said Miss Frayne in a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

"Do you want to go inside the house?" I asked.

"No--o! I couldn't. Not tonight."

We were some little in advance of Rob and Beth. When one spectral sound came like a tense whisper, Miss Frayne turned and fled, and of course I followed her. We could not see our two companions, but suddenly in an interim of wind and ghost whispers, we heard Beth say:

"Yes, Rob. I think we should really be cosier in a story-and-a-half cottage than we should in a bungalow."

"Ye G.o.ds!" muttered Miss Frayne, "did he propose in the face of that awful Thing?"

"Ship ahoy!" I called.

"Oh, didn't you go inside?" asked Rob.

"Go in! I wouldn't go inside that place; not if I lose my job on the paper. What can it be? You don't seem to mind it, Miss Wade."

"Well, you know," said Beth apologetically, "this is my third performance."

We were now down the hill out of sight of the gruesome, ghastly window display, and Miss Frayne gained courage as we retreated.

"Of course I don't believe in ghosts," she said, "but what do you suppose that is?"

"I had a theory," I said, "that it is the work of a lunatic, but I've since concluded it is due to practical jokers. I'll tell you what I'll do. If you wait here, I'll investigate and see what I can find out for you."

"Oh, would you really dare, Mr. Wade? I don't believe men ever have creepy nerves," she exclaimed.

I began to feel ashamed of my deception.

"I wouldn't go, Lucien," warned Rob, coming to my rescue. "There may be a gang of desperadoes in there, or counterfeit money-makers, or something of that kind. Besides, I have a far more interesting piece of news than anything the ghost could give you."