ost directly below
that section of the bank on which Anderson and his friends were herded.
The result was startling. Every man leaped a foot in the air and every
hair stood on end; bicycles rattled and clashed together, and Ed
Higgins, hopelessly bewildered, started to run in the direction of the
haunted house.

CHAPTER XVII

Wicker Bonner, Harvard

"Hello, up there!" was what the deep, masculine voice shouted from the
river. Anderson Crow was the first to distinguish the form of the
speaker, and he was not long in deciding that it was far from
ghost-like. With a word of command he brought his disorganised forces
out of chaos and huddled them together as if to resist attack.

"What's the matter with you?" he demanded, addressing his men in a loud
tone. "Don't get rattled!"

"Are you speaking to me?" called the fresh voice from below.

"Who are you?" demanded Mr. Crow in return.

"Nobody in particular. What's going on up there? What's the fuss?"

"Come up an' find out." Then Mr. Crow, observing that the man below was
preparing to comply, turned and addressed his squad in low, earnest
tones. "This feller will bear watchin'. He's mixed up in this thing
somehow. Else why is he wanderin' around here close to the house? I'll
question him."

"By gosh, he ain't no ghost!" murmured Ed Higgins, eyeing the newcomer
as he crawled up the bank. "Say, did y' see me a minute ago? If you
fellers had come on, I was goin' right up to search that house from top
to bottom. Was you all askeered to come?"

"Aw, you!" said Anderson Crow in deep scorn.

The next instant a stalwart young fellow stood before the marshal, who
was eyeing him keenly, even imperiously. The newcomer's good-looking,
strong-featured face was lighted up by a smile of surpassing
friendliness.

"It's lonesome as thunder down here, isn't it? Glad to see you,
gentlemen. What's up--a bicycle race?"

"No, sir; we got a little business up here, that's all," responded
Anderson Crow diplomatically. "What air you doin' here?"

"Skating. My name is Wicker Bonner, and I'm visiting my uncle,
Congressman Bonner, across the river. You know him, I dare say. I've
been hanging around here for a week's hunting, and haven't had an ounce
of luck in all that time. It's rotten! Aha, I see that you are an
officer, sir--a detective, too. By George, can it be possible that you
are searching for some one? If you are, let me in on it. I'm dying for
excitement."

The you