s ill-timed and grew
serious.

"What was the thing, anyway, Marsh?"

"That's more than I know, but just what I would have known if I'd hit
it with a bullet. That's the 'spook' Aleck warned us of. It's been
kitin' round the country ever since that first night after Pedro died.
Some say it's the ghost. It 'pears to be wrapped in a white blanket
and wears it same as he did. He had a white horse once that had
outlived all the horses ever was, I reckon; and the Simple Simons all
about us claim that it's the Indian's spirit on the Indian's horse,
a-ridin' round 'count of some trouble why he can't rest. There was a
letter thrown into our settin' room night before last, in poor
printing enough, too; and it said that Pedro had been banished from
the happy hunting grounds on account of a secret he'd told; and a
warning everybody not to touch to try and find the place the secret
told about. It scared the mistress pretty bad, though she didn't let
on much. The captain laughed, of course. She always laughs at
everything; and Mrs. Benton--well, she just pinned the paper in her
bosom, and says she: 'I'll know where that is when it's needed.' She's
some sense, Sally has, though nothing to boast of, and she's a mighty
good sewer of patchwork, though she's no good at pistol pockets. Well,
shall we go on?"

Ninian had remounted his horse, which still was restless and ill to
manage, and Prince was capering about in a fantastic fashion that,
however, was not greatly different from his behavior earlier in the
evening; and the reporter had satisfied himself that there was nothing
now to be seen of the apparition which had flashed upon them and
disappeared on the road back to Marion.

"Yes, let's go on. And I hope the least that will happen will be the
arrival of that 'spook' at Aleck McLeod's cheerful inn. I'd give much
to see his face if it did appear."

"Oh! it's been there already; last night. The kitchen window was
raised so softly none but Janet could have heard it, and before she
could get to it, a white, skinny hand came through and snatched up a
quail pie she'd baked for breakfast and off sooner'n she could catch
it. She was so mad about the pie that, for a minute, she forgot to be
scared; then it came over her that she'd been cookin' ghost's
victuals, and she shivered all the rest the night. She wouldn't ever
let Aleck far out of sight, she's so fond of him, but now he can't
stir three foot away. Every man I met has something