etty well, for an old man," was the answer. "Who are you?"

"We are four boys from Fairview. We came up here to go camping.
Who are you?"

"Me? Don't you know who I am? I am Peter Peterson."

"Oh!" exclaimed the boys. They remembered having once heard Jed
Sanborn speak of Peter Peterson as an old fellow who lived among
the hills bordering Lake Cameron. Peterson was a hermit, and
having been crossed in love when he was a young man, he hated the
sight of a woman.

"My name is Charley Dodge," said Snap. "My father owns a share
in the Barnaby saw mill." And then the leader of the club introduced
his chums. In the meantime the old hermit allowed his canoe to
drift to shore and he stepped out and sat down on a rock.

"I know your father," he said to Snap, "and I know your folks," and
he nodded to Shep. "Your father gave me some medicine when I was
sick. So you came up here to go camping?"

"Yes."

"You are pretty brave lads to do that."

"Oh, we've been out camping before. We came out last summer and
also last winter."

"Up here?"

"No, to Lake Cameron and Firefly Lake."

"That's different from Lake Narsac. Don't you know this place is
haunted?" And Peter Peterson looked at the boys very solemnly.

"We've heard something about that, but we aren't afraid," said Shep.

"We are more afraid of snakes than we are of ghosts," added Whopper.
"We met a lot of them just before we reached the lake."

"To be sure you did,--- the river is full of them, and so is the
north side of the lake shore---anybody who has camped up here can
tell you that. But I don't mind the snakes---but I do mind ghosts."
And the old hermit shook his head in a manner to prove he meant what
he said. "I would stay up here to do some fishing and hunting only---"

"Only what?" asked Giant.

"I don't like the ghosts, or spirits, or whatever you may call them."

"Have you seen any ghosts?" asked Snap.

"Well, I've seen something, and heard it, too. I don't know what
it was,---but it didn't suit me," answered Peter Peterson. "But
maybe I hadn't better tell you about it---it might only worry you,"
he continued, thoughtfully.

But the boys wanted to hear the old man's story, and so they invited
him to take dinner with them. During the meal he told his tale,
which was certainly a curious one.

"The first of it happened day before yesterday," said Peter Peterson.
"I was up to the very end of the lake, in a little cove, looking fo