thing. It aint always safe!" he added, huskily, meaningly.
Pinkie Ball began to worm his way back into the outer circle.
"Oh, go on!" said one of the bolder spirits, impatiently.
Lonely hunched up one of his shoulders in a shrug that plainly intimated that their blood was to be on their own heads, should disaster befall them.
"It was in the old Guiney house, that stood just about a mile outside o' Cowansburg," began Lonely, slowly. "That house was ha'nted!"
Ominous shakes of the head followed this declaration.
"None of the town gang 'd go near it, not even to gather walnuts. And there was bushels of 'em goin' to waste there, for the house was empty, and even grown folks would n't pry round there none, I can tell you! And it was so dark and quiet and lonesome-like that when you shoved in through the bushes, and you put your foot on a stick, and it cracked—why, the sound 'd nearly make you jump out of your skin. Well, Speck Litsey and me
