ame in here,
walking in the dark, he might take a nasty header down this hole."

"Say, supposing your ghost did that," remarked the tall scout, as he
helped lift the wooden square back to where it belonged; "why, you could
do better than asking questions of an outsider, because, Chatz, you
might interview your old ghost himself."

The other drew himself up.

"Kindly omit calling it _my_ ghost, if you please, suh," he said,
stiffly. "I don't pretend to have any claim on the object in
question--if there really is such a thing. I'm only wanting to know; and
I come from South Carolina, suh, not Missouri."

Elmer, after one last glance around the kitchen, was heading for the
other room where an exit could be made.

And it was almost ludicrous to see with what haste the other two
followed after; just as if neither of them cared to be left alone inside
the walls of the haunted mill cottage.

Once outside, they found several of their comrades clustered near by,
evidently awaiting them. That curiosity was rapidly reaching fever heat
it was easy to see from the anxious looks cast upon those who had been
investigating the interior of the buildings.

No doubt every fellow had meanwhile been industriously engaged in
ransacking his brain to remember all he had ever heard concerning
Munsey's mill, and the troublesome spirit that had frightened away three
separate tenants in years gone by.

They were rather a demoralized trio of boys who welcomed the coming of
Elmer, Chatz, and Lil Artha.

"Find any signs of Nat?" asked one.

"Hope the plagued old ghost didn't get him," another ventured.

"Tell us all about it, Elmer?" asked the third member of the little
bunch.

But the scout leader instead raised the bugle to his lips and sounded
the assembly call.

Voices were heard, and immediately the others came hurrying to the spot.
Landy was the last to arrive, and he came up puffing and blowing as
though he might have been at some little distance when he heard the
summons for gathering.

"Listen!" said Elmer, raising his hand, and immediately the confused
chattering of many boyish tongues ceased.

This enabled them to hear distant shouts from the southeast, as though
newcomers might be approaching the mill over about the same course as
that they had pursued.

"Mark Cummings and the last detachment!" declared Matty.

"Hurrah! six more good fellows to do battle with the outlaws of the
haunted mill!" exclaimed Red; at which