hat, all the kids in Bridgeboro said the wheel
was haunted. If you say a place is haunted, it's haunted.

But one thing, it kept the kids away from the old park. Because, anyway,
they weren't supposed to go there. Gee whiz, I can't say whether I'm
afraid of a ghost or not because I never saw one, but I know that white
is their patrol color. Anyway, if I were a ghost I wouldn't hang out in
a ferris-wheel, I know that. I guess they're half crazy, anyway, because
there used to be one in the old tumbled-down schoolhouse in North
Bridgeboro. Jiminy, I should think he could have found a better place
than that to stay in. But my father says it's pretty hard to find places
to live in these days. We should worry, the woods for us.

CHAPTER XV

A SCOUT IS OBSERVANT

Westy said, "I wonder how our old friend the ghost is?"

I said, "If we meet him we'll take him along with us. He ought to be
good on a bee-line hike because he can go right through anything."

I said, "If it wasn't for Warde Hollister I'd take him into my patrol.
I've got every kind of a freak in there now except a ghost."

"You haven't got me," Pee-wee shouted.

I said, "No, that's one kind of a freak I haven't got."

"If you could have a ghost and a bandit in this patrol we'd be
complete," Westy said.

"I'm bad enough," Warde Hollister said.

I said, "Sure, we're satisfied if you are. Take us for better or worse;
you'll probably find us a good deal worse."

Warde said, "It's been good fun so far."

"You haven't seen anything yet," I told him. "Wait till you get up to
Temple Camp. Even the laughing brook is all the time giggling at us.
Wait till you see the raving Ravens."

"That's all right," Pee-wee piped up. "Up there people in the village
always smile at us--grown-up people."

"It's a wonder they don't laugh out loud," I said.

All of a sudden, as we were going along, Pee-wee grabbed me by the
shoulder and whispered, "_Look!_"

"Have a heart," I told him; "don't knock me down. What is it?"

"Look!" he whispered. "Look! Where that board is broken."

Then I knew what he meant. About twenty feet off our path was a kind of
an old tumbled-down shack. It was boarded up in front with old odds and
ends of boards that were not painted. There was quite a big piece gone
from one of the boards, and as I looked through that I could see a face.

"Shh, do you see it?" I whispered to Westy. Then I kind of urged the
fellows along the path because