ner, "you'll excuse our bein' a little upset. You see, when my
brother came home and said he'd seen lights movin' around in the old
Barnes' house, he frightened us all pretty near to death. All Cap'n Obed
could think of was tramps, or thieves or somethin'. Nothin' would do but
he must drag Kenelm right back to see who or what was in there. And I
was left alone to imagine all sorts of dreadful things. Tramps I might
stand. They belong to this world, anyhow. But in THAT house, at eleven
o'clock at night, I--Mrs. Barnes, do you believe in aberrations?"

Thankful was nonplused. "In--in which?" she asked.

"In aberrations, spirits of dead folks comin' alive again?"

For just a moment Mrs. Barnes hesitated. Then she glanced at Emily,
who was trying hard not to smile, and answered, with decision: "No, I
don't."

"Well, I don't either, so far as that goes. I never see one myself, and
I've never seen anybody that has. But when Kenelm came tearin' in to say
he'd seen a light in a house shut up as long as that one has been, and a
house that folks--"

Captain Bangs interrupted. He had been regarding Thankful closely and
now he changed the subject.

"How did it happen you saw that light, Kenelm?" he asked. "What was you
doin' over in that direction a night like this?"

Kenelm hesitated. He seemed to find it difficult to answer.

"Why--why--" he stammered, "I'd been up to the office after the mail.
And--and--it was so late comin' that I give it up. I says to Lemuel
Ryder, 'Lem,' I says--"

His sister broke in.

"Lem Ryder!" she repeated. "Was he at the post-office?"

"Well--well--" Kenelm's confusion was more marked than ever.
"Well--well--" he stammered, "I see him, and I says--"

"You see him! Where did you see him? Kenelm Parker, I don't believe you
was at the postoffice at all. You was at the clubroom, that's where you
was. At that clubroom, smokin' and playin' cards with that deprivated
crowd of loafers and gamblers. Tell me the truth, now, wasn't you?"

Mr. Parker's tie fell off then, but neither he nor his sister noticed
it.

"Gamblers!" he snorted. "There ain't no gamblers there. Playin' a hand
or two of Californy Jack just for fun ain't gamblin'. I wouldn't gamble,
not for a million dollars."

Captain Obed laughed. "Neither would I," he observed. "Nor for two
cents, with that clubroom gang; 'twould be too much nerve strain
collectin' my winnin's. I see now why you come by the Barnes' house,
Kenelm. It's th