"If we don't find those girls to-night, then to-morrow morning we'll get
out of here," announced George. "They know that they have won and we'll
let them come and tell us so rather than hunt all summer for them."

"What about that half-breed?" asked Sam. "I think we'd better find out
who he is. I didn't like the looks of that fellow a little bit."

"Neither did I," agreed George. "Queer we never saw him around here
before."

"You must remember this is a large lake," Billy informed them. "He
probably is a fisherman who hangs out on the island, and who resented
our encroaching upon his preserves. I think I saw the same fellow once
in a canoe, but he was so far away that I don't think I would know him
were we to meet face to face."

"There are too many mysterious things on this island," averred Larry
Goheen, with emphasis. "I, for one, shall be glad to get away from it. I
know there are spooks here."

"Spooks!" jeered George. "Who's afraid of spooks? Who--" George's voice
trailed off almost into a whisper. "I heard something," he exclaimed.

"So did I," added Larry, nodding.

A laugh, a distinctly human laugh, shrill and mocking, was wafted to
them. The boys gazed questioningly at each other. Larry glanced about
apprehensively. Then out of the night came the most weird, most
demoniacal laugh any member of the Tramp Club ever had heard.

The boys sprang to their feet.

Other laughs, accompanied by shrieks, followed each other in quick
succession. The laughs seemed to come from all quarters. It was
difficult to say from just what particular point any one of them did
come.

"Spooks!" yelled Larry Goheen, bolting toward the lake. Billy caught and
jerked him back.

"No, you don't," growled Billy. "We stand together."

"I don't want to stay here," chattered Larry. "I never try to fool
people with fake courage when I know that running is my one best course
to pursue."

"Is there a lunatic asylum in this part of the country?" asked Baker.
"Can it be possible that any of the inmates have escaped."

Billy Gordon shook his head. "Nothing as easy as that," he sighed.

"Great Scott! There it goes again!" breathed Larry. "It's down that way,
too," pointing in the direction taken by Harriet Burrell.

It was a long, weird wail, well calculated to freeze the marrow in one's
bones.

"Come on, fellows!" cried George, with a fine showing of resolution.
"We'll lay that ghost!"

George was the only one of the boys who th