“What do you think it was?” asked Whopper.
“I can’t for the life o’ me tell.”
“Are you sure you heard that voice, or was that imagination?” asked Snap.
“It wasn’t no imagination whatsoever,” answered the old hunter, positively. “I heard thet voice jest as plain as I can hear yourn, an’ it come right out o’ the sky, too!”
“That is certainly queer,” mused Snap. “You say the ghost was yellow?”
“I thought most ghosts were white,” put in the doctor’s son.
“Was it a man?” asked Frank.
“If it was, how did he walk on the water?” demanded Jed Sanborn. “Oh, it was a sure ghost, no two ways on it!” And the old hunter shook his head positively.
“Are there any houses near the lake?” questioned Giant.
“Not a house within two or three miles. It is the wildest place you ever visited,” answered Jed Sanborn. “Hunters don’t go there much on account of the rough rocks in the stream flowing into Narsac. If you take a boat you may have to tote it a good bit—–an’ it ain’t much use to go up there less you’ve got a boat, because you can’t travel much along the shore—–too many thorn bushes.”
After that the old hunter told them all he knew about Lake Narsac. He said the lake and its surroundings were owned by the estate of a New England millionaire who had died four years before. In settling the estate the heirs had gone to law, and the rightful possession of the sheet of water with the mountains around it was still in dispute.
“One thing is sartin,” said the old hunter. “If ye go up thar, ye won’t have no Andrew Felps chasin’ ye away—–as was the case up to Lake Cameron.”
“No, but we may have the ghost chasing us,” answered Giant.
“Say, maybe we had better go somewhere else,” suggested Whopper, hesitatingly.
“Whopper, are you afraid of ghosts?” demanded Snap.
“N—–no, but I—–er—–I’d like to go somewhere where we wouldn’t be bothered by anything.”
“I am going to Lake Narsac, ghosts or no ghosts!” cried the doctor’s son.
“So am I,” added Snap, promptly. “If Whopper wants to stay behind—–”
“Who said anything about staying behind?” demanded Whopper. “If you go so will I, even if there are a million ghosts up there.”
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” came from little Giant. “It’s some humbug, that’s what it is.”
“Maybe, maybe,” answered Jed Sanborn. “But if you hear that voice and see that yellow thing—–well, I reckon your hair will stick up on end, jest as mine did!”
A FOURTH OF JULY CELEBRATION
On the following Monday Snap and Shep were walking down the main street of Fairview when they heard a cry and saw Giant beckoning to them from the post-office steps.
“What’s up?” asked Snap, as he came up to the small youth.