quickly. "I couldn't make a dollar rhyme in there, somehow or other," he added.
"You might say," spoke Will, "'Twill cost' you two dollar, but don't make a holler.'"
"That isn't my style. My poetry is always correct," said Mr. Lagg, somewhat stiffly.
The lantern was wrapped up and the young people got ready to go down to the boat.
"Say, Mr. Lagg," asked Will, lingering a bit behind the others, "just how much is there in this ghost story, anyhow?"
"Just what I told you," was the answer. "There is something queer on that island."
"Then the girls will find out what it is!" declared Will, with conviction. "If they could find the man who lost the five hundred dollar bill, they're equal to laying the ghost of Elm Island. I'm not going to worry about them."
"Let's go down a little way farther and have a look at the haunted island," proposed Grace, when they were again on board the Gem.
"Have we time?" asked Betty.
"Lots," declared Will.
The motor boat was headed for tHe place. The island was of good size, well wooded, and the shore was lined with bushes. There were a few bungalows on it, but the season was not very good this year, and none of them had been
