inned at them with an appearance of unconcern.

"Hullo!" he said in a shaking voice, which he tried to control. "What
on earth's to pay in that vacant lot now?"

"Well, what is it?" demanded his father.

"Oh, nothing, only--well, there are lights over it exactly as if there
was a house there, just about where the windows would be. It looked as
if you could walk right in, but when you look close there are those old
dried-up weeds rattling away on the ground the same as ever. I looked
at it and couldn't believe my eyes. A woman saw it, too. She came
along just as I did. She gave one look, then she screeched and ran. I
waited for some one else, but nobody came."

Mr. Townsend rushed out of the room.

"I daresay it'll be gone when he gets there," began George, then he
stared round the room. "What's to pay here?" he cried.

"Oh, George, the whole house shook all at once, and all the
looking-glasses broke," wailed his mother, and Adrianna and Cordelia
joined.

George whistled with pale lips. Then Mr. Townsend entered.

"Well," asked George, "see anything?"

"I don't want to talk," said his father. "I've stood just about
enough."

"We've got to sell out and go back to Townsend Centre," cried his wife
in a wild voice. "Oh, David, say you'll go back."

"I won't go back for any such nonsense as this, and sell a twenty-five
thousand dollar house for five thousand," said he firmly.

But that very night his resolution was shaken. The whole family
watched together in the dining-room. They were all afraid to go to
bed--that is, all except possibly Mr. Townsend. Mrs. Townsend declared
firmly that she for one would leave that awful house and go back to
Townsend Centre whether he came or not, unless they all stayed together
and watched, and Mr. Townsend yielded. They chose the dining-room for
the reason that it was nearer the street should they wish to make their
egress hurriedly, and they took up their station around the
dining-table on which Cordelia had placed a luncheon.

"It looks exactly as if we were watching with a corpse," she said in a
horror-stricken whisper.

"Hold your tongue if you can't talk sense," said Mr. Townsend.

The dining-room was very large, finished in oak, with a dark blue paper
above the wainscotting. The old sign of the tavern, the Blue Leopard,
hung over the mantel-shelf. Mr. Townsend had insisted on hanging it
there. He had a curious pride in it. The family sat together un