"Well, I can't stand this-- I'm too fidgety!" declared Grace. "I'm going to sit up a little while, and read. I'm going to eat a chocolate, too. I'll give you some, Mollie, if you like. I bought a fresh box of Mr. Lagg.

"Chocolates they are nice and sweet, Good for man and beast to eat."

"Give me a young lady-like brand," suggested Amy.

"Why don't we all of us sit up a while, and-- I have it-- we'll make a pot of chocolate," exclaimed Mollie. "That will make us all sleep, and warm us-- it is getting real chilly already."

"Perhaps that will be best," agreed Betty, as she donned her heavy dressing gown and warm slippers, for the tent was cool even in July.

Soon there was the aroma of chocolate in the little cooking shelter, and the girls sat around, in various picturesque and comfortable att.i.tudes, sipping the warm beverage and nibbling the crisp crackers.

Then gradually their nerves quieted down, and even Grace, more aroused than any of the others, began to feel drowsy. One by one they again sought their cots, and finally a series of deep breathings told of much-needed sleep.

It must have been long after midnight when Betty was suddenly aroused by a queer noise. She had slept heavily, and at first she was not fully aware of her surroundings, nor what had awakened her. Then she became conscious of a curious heavy breathing, as of some animal. She sat up in alarm, her heart pounding furiously. Her throat went dry.

"Girls-- girls!" she gasped, hoa.r.s.ely. "Aunt Kate!"

The latter was the first to reply. Quickly reaching out to the lantern near her, she turned up the wick. Following the sudden illumination in the tent there was a cracking in the underbrush near it.

"Oh!" screamed Grace, sitting up. "What is it?"

"I'm going to look!" said Mollie, resolutely.

"Don't! Don't!" pleaded Amy, but Mollie was already at the flap of the tent, which she quickly loosed. Then she screamed.

"Look! It's white! It's white!"

Betty, forcing herself to action, stood beside her chum. She was just in time to see some-thing big and white run down toward the lake.

There was a clash and jingling as of chains, and a splashing of water.

Then the white thing disappeared, and the girls stood staring at one another, trembling violently.

CHAPTER XX

THE STORM

Grace "draped" herself over the nearest cot. Amy followed her example, with the added distinction that she covered her head with the blankets. Betty and Mollie stood clinging to each other.

"Though I don't think they were any braver than we," declared Grace afterward. "They simply couldn't fall down, for Betty wanted to go one way and Grace the other. So they just naturally held each other up."

"I couldn't stand," declared Amy. "My, knees shook so."

Aunt Kate was the first to speak after the apparition had pa.s.sed away, seeming to lose itself in the lake.

"Girls, have you any idea what it was?" she asked.

"The-- the--" began Amy. "Oh, I can't say it!" she wailed from beneath the covers.

"Don't be silly!" commanded Betty, sharply. "If you mean-- ghost-- say so," but she herself hesitated over the word.

"If that was the ghost it was the queerest one I ever saw!" declared Mollie, with resolution. "I don't just mean that, either," she hastened to add, "for I never saw a ghost before. But in all the stories I ever read ghosts were tall and thin, of the willowy type---- "

"Like Grace," put in Betty, with rather a wan smile.

"Don't you dare compare me to a ghost!" commanded the Gibson girl,"

with energy that brought the blood to her pale cheeks. She ventured to peer out from under the tent flap now. "Is it-- is it gone?" she faltered.

"It's in the lake-- whatever it was," said Mollie. "But wasn't it oddly shaped, Betty?"

"It was indeed. And it made plenty of noise. Real ghosts never do that."

"Oh, some do!" a.s.serted Amy. "I read the 'Ghost of the Stone Castle,'

a most fascinating story, and that ghost always rattled chains, and made a terrible noise."

"What did it turn out to be?" asked Aunt Kate.

"The story didn't say. No one ever found out."

"Well, this one is exactly like Mr. Lagg described," spoke Grace, "chains and all. What could it have been?"

"I imagine," said Betty, slowly, "that it may be some wild animal---- "

Grace screamed.

"What is it now?" asked Betty, regarding her.

"Don't say wild animals-- they're worse than ghosts!"

"Nonsense! Don't be silly! I mean it may he some wild animal, like a fox or deer that has been caught in a trap. Traps have chains on them, you know. This animal may have been caught some time ago, have pulled the chain loose, and the poor thing may be going around with the trap still fastened to him. That would account for the rattling."

"Yes," said Mollie, "that may be so, and there may be white foxes, but I never heard of any outside of Arctic regions. But, Betty Nelson, there never was a fox as large as that. Why it was as-- as big as our tent!"

"Yes, and how it sniffed and breathed!" added Betty. "I guess it couldn't be a wild animal. It may have been a cow. I wonder if any campers here keep a white cow?"

"A cow would moo," declared Grace.

"But whatever it was, it was frightened at the light," said Aunt Kate, practically, "so I don't think we need to be afraid of it-- whatever it was. We'll leave a light outside the tent the rest of the night, and it won't come back."

"I'm going to sleep in the boat!" declared Grace.

"Nonsense!" cried Betty. "Don't be a deserter! Have some more chocolate, and we'll all go to sleep," and they finally persuaded Grace to remain. It took some little time to get their nerves quiet, but finally they all fell into a more or less uneasy slumber that lasted until morning. The "ghost" did not return.

Wan, and with rather dark circles under their eyes, the girls got breakfast the next morning. The meal put them in better spirits, and when they bustled around about the camp duties they, forgot their scare of the night before.

They made a partial tour of the island, though some parts were too densely wooded and swampy to penetrate. But such parts as they visited showed the presence of no other campers. They were alone on Elm Island, save for an occasional picnic party, several evidently having been there the day before.

"Then that-- thing-- couldn't have been a cow," said Grace, positively.

"Make up a new theory," suggested Betty, with a laugh. "One thing, though, we're not going to let it drive us away, are we-- not away from our camp?"