"Then will you make yourself comfortable?"
Tavia sighed. "Oh, it's so spooky," she insisted. "I feel as if things are
getting ready to spring at us from every corner. And did you ever see so
many corners in one place in all your life?"
"Oh, come up and see the gallery room," called Nat from the top of the
stair-well. "If we don't bring the boys out here and have some doings!
This is the swellest kind of a place. Come on up, girls. Nary a ghost nor
a ghostie in the diggings."
Tom was singing snatches of songs, and Nat would join in when he came to a
"joining," so that the old house fairly rang with the echo of young voices
and merry laughter.
Ghost! What ghost could stand that? Tom Scott and Nat White singing coon
songs!
"Listen!" called Dorothy. "Tavia wants you to go down cellar to make
sure," she called to the boys.
"Oh, all right," agreed Tom. "We'll do the coal-bin and the wine cellar.
Now, if we only could chance upon an old bottle of home-made grape juice!"
He slid down the baluster rail in spite of Dorothy's protest, for the
floor below was of mosaics, and the rail might not be safe. But Tom landed
without accident, and presently was looking for a passageway to the
cellar.
With some difficulty the way was finally discovered, and Tom almost
tumbled down the dark passage as the door, first obstinate, suddenly gave
way to his pressure.
Pages:
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165