uple of schoolboys. You know the women
in our party will be disgusted with you."

Neither Harry nor David paid the least attention to Jack's excellent
advice. Both fighters had their blood up. Harry's face was crimson and
David's white. Few blows were struck, because David made a headlong rush
at his opponent and the combatants wrestled back and forth, each boy
trying to force the other on the ground. It was by sheer force of
determination that David won. David got one hand loose and struck Harry
over the eye. Harry went down with a sudden crash. His head struck the
earth with a whack that temporarily put him out of the fight.

But David kept his knee on Harry's chest. He made no effort to get up.
His face was still working with anger.

"Say, get off of Sears, Brewster, can't you?" growled Jack Bolling. "You
see he is down and out and you've won the fight. Don't you know that the
rules of the game won't let you hit a man when he is down?"

David straightened up and stood upright. "Thank you, Bolling," he said
curtly. "I wasn't a sport and I am glad you reminded me of it. I was too
angry with Sears to want to quit the fight."

Harry was sitting upon the ground, looking greatly chagrined. He had a
bruise over one eye and the place was rapidly swelling.

"I expect I ought to apologize to you, Sears, for not having let you
alone when you were down," remarked David proudly. "But in the future
you will kindly leave my private affairs alone."

David made off across the fields. He hoped to be able to get back to the
Preston house before Miss Betsey Taylor returned from her ride to the
haunted house. He was lucky enough to find Miss Betsey still out. As
David passed through the hall he was glad to find her bedroom door open.
He had just time enough to slip into her room and thrust a red cotton
handkerchief, which was tied up in a curious knot, under Miss Betsey's
pillow, when he thought he heard some one about to enter the room.

David hurried out into the hall just as Madge and Phyllis passed by.
Both girls nodded to David in a friendly fashion, though Madge's
expressive face was alive with the question: "What is David Brewster
doing in Miss Betsey's room?"

CHAPTER XVII

THE BIRTH OF SUSPICION

Miss Betsey Taylor had a very successful drive to the "ha'nted house."
She returned home with the secret curiosity of years partly satisfied.
Not that Miss Betsey saw the "ghosts walk," or that anything in the
least