long
distance for boys to run, by the way, and hardly advisable under
ordinary conditions), and one of the registering places where every
contestant had to sign his name to a book kept by a judge so as to
prove that he had actually reached that particular and important
corner of the rectangular course, had been the quaint little old road
tavern just half a mile back of them.

"You're wondering just why I'm so curious about the country up here,
I can see, fellows," Hugh was saying about the time we meet them;
"and, as we all belong to the same school, and our dearest wish is to
see Scranton High win the prize that is offered by the committee in
the Marathon, I don't mind letting you in. I know something about
this country up here, and have traced on a surveyor's chart the
ordinary course a fellow would be apt to take in passing from the
second tally post, that old tavern back of us, along this road to the
canal, and from there across the old logging road to Hobson's Pond,
where there's going to be the last registering place before the dash
for home. Well, I've figured it out that a fellow would save
considerable ground if he left this same road half a mile below, and
cut across by way of the Juniper Swamp trail, striking in again along
about the Halpin Farm."

His remarks created no end of interest, for there were several others
among the bunch who had also entered for that long-distance race;
and, naturally, they began to figure on how they might take advantage
of Hugh's discovery. It was all for the honor and credit of good old
Scranton High; so that it really mattered little just which fellow
crossed the line first, so long as he "saved the bacon."

"It sounds pretty fine to me, Hugh," said Julius, "only I don't like
one thing."

"What's that, Julius?" demanded the Juggins boy.

"By following that Juniper Swamp trail and the old road Hugh
mentions, we'd have to pass close to that deserted stone quarry; and
say, the farmers all vow it's sure haunted."

CHAPTER II

ON THE OLD QUARRY ROAD

When Julius made this assertion, the other fellows looked at each
other in what might be said to be a queer way. In fact, they had all
heard certain absurd stories told in connection with the old quarry
that had not been worked for so many years that the road leading to
it across country had grown up in grass and weeds. Some adventurous
boys who went out there once declared it was a most gruesome place,
with poo