Elfreda walked boldly up to the house, although she felt her courage oozing rapidly.

“I’ll go inside with you, and show you the room.  It’s that little room off the hall,” volunteered Alberta.

The outside door stood wide open.  Elfreda peered fearfully down the little hall, then stepped resolutely into the little room at one side of it.  A door slammed.  There was the sound of a key turning in a lock, a rush of scurrying feet; then silence.  Across the field fled the dark figures, nor did they stop until they had crossed the highway and entered the little grove that led to Hunter’s Rock.

Suddenly a piercing scream rang out.  It was followed by a succession of wild cries, and with one accord the terror-stricken conspirators made for the highway.  But at every step a white figure rose in the path filling the air with weird, mournful wails.  Fright lent speed to sophomore feet, and without daring to look behind, eight badly scared girls ran steadily along the road to Overton, intent only on putting distance between themselves and the terrifying apparitions that had sprung up before them.  If they had stopped to deliberate for even five seconds they would, in all probability, have stood their ground, but the silent, ghostly figures that had bobbed up as by magic, coupled with the tale of the haunted house which Alberta had related, was a little too much for even vaunted sophomore courage.

A death-like stillness followed the ignominious flight of the plotters.  Then from behind a tree stepped a white figure and a cautious voice called softly:  “Come on, girls.  They have gone.  We must hurry and let Elfreda out of that awful house.”  At this command a ripple of subdued laughter rose from all sides and the ghosts began to appear from their nearby hiding places.

“Wasn’t it funny?” laughed a tall ghost with the voice of Frances Marlton.

“I know several sophomores who will walk softly for the rest of this year at least,” predicted another ghost, ending with the giggle that endeared Mabel Ashe to all her friends.

“These masks are frightfully warm,” complained a diminutive spectre.  A quick movement of her hand and the mask was removed, showing the rosy face of Arline Thayer.

“Keep your mask on, Arline,” warned Gertrude.  “Even in this secluded spot some one may be watching you.”

The party proceeded with as little noise as possible to the haunted house.  Pausing at the front door a brief council was held.  Then removing their masks and the sheets that enveloped them, Grace and Miriam resolutely entered the hall and went straight to the locked door, behind which Elfreda was a prisoner.  The key had been left in the lock.  It turned with a grating sound.  Slipping her hand in the pocket of her sweater, Grace produced a tiny electric flashlight which she turned on the room.  In one corner, seated on the floor, her back against the wall and her feet straight in front of her, sat Elfreda.  She eyed the flashing light defiantly, then saw who was behind it and said grimly:  “I might have known it.  If I had taken your advice I wouldn’t be here now.”