ng man's face was eager and his voice rang true. Besides, he was
a tall, athletic chap, with brawny arms and a broad back. Altogether, he
would make a splendid recruit, thought Anderson Crow. He was dressed in
rough corduroy knickerbockers, the thick coat buttoned up close to his
muffled neck. A woollen cap came down over his ears and a pair of skates
dangled from his arm.

"Yes, sir; I'm a detective, and we are up here doin' a little
investigatin'. You are from Chicago, I see."

"What makes you think so?"

"Can't fool me. I c'n always tell. You said, 'I've _bean_ hangin','
instead of 'I've _ben_ hangin'.' See? They say _bean_ in Chicago. Ha!
ha! You didn't think I could deduce that, did you?"

"I'll confess that I didn't," said Mr. Bonner with a dry smile. "I'm
from Boston, however."

"Sure," interposed Isaac Porter; "that's where the beans come from,
Anderson."

"Well, that's neither here nor there," said Mr. Crow, hastily changing
the subject. "We're wastin' time."

"Stayin' here, you mean?" asked Ed Higgins, quite ready to start.
Involuntarily the eyes of the posse turned toward the house among the
willows. The stranger saw the concerted glance and made inquiry.
Whereupon Mr. Crow, assisted by seven men and five small boys, told Mr.
Wicker Bonner, late of Harvard, what had brought them from Tinkletown to
the haunted house, and what they had seen upon their arrival. Young
Bonner's face glowed with the joy of excitement.

"Great!" he cried, fastening his happy eyes upon the hated thing among
the trees. "Let's search the place. By George, this is glorious!"

"Not on your life!" said Ed Higgins. "You can't get me inside that
house. Like as not a feller'd never come out alive."

"Well, better men than we have died," said Mr. Bonner tranquilly. "Come
on; I'll go in first. It's all tommy-rot about the place being haunted.
In any event, ghosts don't monkey around at this time of day. It's
hardly dusk."

"But, gosh dern it," exploded Anderson Crow, "we seen it!"

"I seen it first," said Isaac Porter proudly.

"But I heerd it first," peeped up Master Bud.

"You've all been drinking hard cider or pop or something like that,"
said the brawny scoffer.

"Now, see here, you're gittin' fresh, an--" began the marshal, swelling
up like a pigeon.

"Look out behind!" sang out Mr. Bonner, and Anderson jumped almost out
of his shoes, besides ripping his shirt in the back, he turned so
suddenly.

"Jeemses River!" he