nary. They thought they might catch sight of Dora and the Lanings, but were disappointed.
"Too bad that they have got to grind away on such a fine day as this," said Dick.
"Well, such is life," returned Sam. "One good thing, schooldays won't last forever."
"Just wait till the summer vacation comes!" cried Tom. "I'm going to have the best time anybody ever heard about."
"What doing?" questioned Stanley.
"Oh, I don't know yet."
They took their time climbing the long hill leading to the haunted house, and it was just three o'clock when they came in sight of the dilapidated structure, almost hidden in the tangle of trees and underbrush.
"Now, Songbird, you've got to be back here by four, or half after, at the latest," said Dick as he and his brothers and Stanley got out. "No spooning with Minnie till six."
"Huh! I don't spoon," grumbled the wouldbe poet. "I am—er—only going to show her some new verses I wrote. They are entitled"
"Keep them for Minnie!" cried Sam. "And remember what Dick said. We are not going to hang around here after dark."
"Scared already?" asked Songbird.
