It was here," said Betty.

"No, this one," declared Mrs. Mackson, indicating another opposite.

Betty turned to Grace and Amy.

"I was too frightened to look," admitted Grace.

"And I didn't see," confessed Amy.

"Well, there's one way to prove it--we'll call," spoke Betty. She raised
her voice and cried:

"Mollie! Mollie! Don't be frightened. We haven't deserted you! In which
room are you?"

They paused, waiting for what they expected would be a tear-choked
answer, but none came.

"Mollie! Mollie!" cried Betty again, her tones trembling now.

Anxiously they waited, but there was no response.

"She isn't there!" gasped Amy. "Oh, Betty!" and she began to cry.

"Hush!" cautioned Mrs. Mackson. "Probably the poor child has fainted,
and can't hear us. It's enough to make any one faint. But I'm sure this
is the room," and she indicated the one she had pointed out. "We must
break down the door and get her."

Not expecting the door to open, she turned the knob, but, to her
surprise, the portal swung back, creaking on rusty hinges.

"The light--quick!" the chaperone called to Betty.

The remaining lantern from the auto--one being with Mollie--was flashed
into the apartment. It took but a glance to show that it was empty.

"I thought it was this one," said Betty, trying to keep her voice from
trembling, as she moved to the door she had insisted was the right one.

She tried half a dozen times. The door was locked.

"She's in--there!" gasped Grace.

Again Betty called aloud, repeating Mollie's name over and over again,
but there was no answer.

"Oh--oh, what can have happened?" faltered Amy. "Poor Mollie!"

"At least we know that it was perfectly natural what happened--however
mean and unjust it was," declared Betty. "We have to do with natural
forces, and----"

Through the old house there once more sounded that mournful groan,
chilling the very blood of the girls, and causing them to cling
together. Several times were the groans repeated, and then there shone,
as if from a distance, a bluish light, and there came the clank of
metal.

"Oh--oh!" cried Grace.

"Quiet!" commanded Betty. "Mollie, are you in there?"

The storm had, in a measure, ceased now, and the only sounds from
without was the falling of the rain.

"That--that couldn't have been thunder or lightning," said Betty, with a
puzzled air.

"It was the wind--that is still blowing," insisted Mrs. Mackson. "Don't
be frightened, girls. We mu