she was. "You know
that haunts are only make-believe."

"We-ell!" sighed Rose, "maybe that's only a make-believe sound we hear.
But--but I don't like it. There!"

For a third time the screech was repeated. It seemed nearer. Russ could
not be confident that it was "make-believe." The strange sound seemed
very real indeed.

CHAPTER XXIII

A FOUR-LEGGED GHOST

"I don't like that noise a bit," whispered Rose, standing close to her
brother. "It--it makes me all shivery."

"But, if it is only just a woman calling----"

"There must be something awful the matter with her, if she has to scream
like that," declared Rose.

As they did not hear the noise again for a little while, both of them
plucked up courage, and they went on to the burned cabin. The sticks
they had set up were still standing. Russ fastened each of the four
pasteboard "letters" to a stick at the four corners of Mammy June's
ruined house.

There was light enough from the stars for the two children to see quite
plainly what they were about. Rose, however, was looking all about them
while Russ did the work of setting up the printed signs for Sneezer
Meiggs to see if he came home unexpectedly.

"What do you expect to see, Rose?" demanded her brother loftily.

"I don't know. Philly says ha'nts are all in white."

"I don't see anything very white around here," rejoined Russ.

"But there are so many colored folks, perhaps some of the ha'nts might
be black," suggested Rose. "Then we wouldn't see them very well in the
shadows."

"I don't believe----" began Russ.

The strange shriek was again heard. Russ stopped in his speech. Rose
uttered a sharp cry. The screech--and it did sound like a woman's voice,
the voice of a woman in fearful pain or fright--seemed very near them.

"It's right over there in that patch of woods," said Russ. "I guess she
is lost--or something."

"Do you believe it is only a lady and not a ha'nt, Russ?" demanded his
sister.

"Of course it isn't a ha'nt! Such things can't be! And if it was a
ghost, a ghost is nothing but air, and how could air have such a voice
as that?"

This reasoning seemed to close the argument. Rose felt that her brother
must be right. Besides, Russ went right on talking, and talking very
bravely.

"I think we ought to see what the matter is with her, Rose. She is in
trouble--maybe she is lost and scared."

"So am I scared," murmured Rose.

"But think how much more you would be scared," her