“I don’t know just what happened next,” laughed George. “There were two peals of thunder so near together that you could hardly clap your hands between them. When the first one came and I heard that call, I didn’t stand on the order of my departure. When the next clap sounded I was away down the road under that old oak tree.”

All the four boys laughed heartily, even George apparently not being crestfallen by his lack of courage on the night he was describing.

“What is it you call the house?” inquired John.

“The Meeker House.”

“You think it’s haunted?”

“I didn’t say so,” responded George somewhat warmly. “I merely said it is a common report that it is a haunted house. I’m just telling you what happened one night when I ran in there to get out of a storm.”

“Poor old house,” said George thoughtfully, as he looked back at the old building, which still could be seen in the distance. “It makes me think of Uncle Sim. He’s the last leaf on the tree and I guess this is the oldest house in this part of the country.”

Uncle Sim was an aged negro, who for many years had been in the employ of George’s father. His labor was no longer efficient, but his faithful services in the years that were gone had caused Mr. Sanders to provide for the wants of the gray-haired negro. Uncle Sim’s form was bowed with the weight of years which he carried and his trembling limbs showed how much he had suffered from the “mis’ry.” Indeed, the boys had become convinced that there was no topic concerning which the old man loved to talk as he did concerning his various aches and pains.

In spite of his afflictions, however, Uncle Sim was a warm friend of the boys. When they got into mischief Uncle Sim’s face was lifted heavenward so that he was unable to see any of the pranks they committed and therefore was unable to impart any information when he was asked as to his knowledge of their deeds. He was a great favorite of the boys and many of his stories had been familiar to them from their earliest childhood. He knew why the red squirrel and the black hated each other so intensely. He was well informed concerning the perpetual warfare that existed between the dogs and cats on the farm. The call of the bluejays was in a language which Uncle Sim claimed to understand. And although he did not talk back to the chattering jays, nevertheless he strongly believed that they were much more guarded in their conversations when he was nearby.

“You go ask Uncle Sim if the house is haunted,” repeated George. “He’ll tell you what he thinks and you won’t have to wait very long for him to do it, either.”

“Has he never been there?” asked Fred.

“You’d better ask him,” declared George.

“What do you honestly think about it yourself, George?” said Grant more seriously.

“I don’t know just what to think. I haven’t been there since—”

“Since when?” spoke up John encouragingly.

“Since the last time I was there.”

“When was that?”

“That time I was telling you about when I ran in there to get out of the rain.”

“Will you go back there now if we’ll go?” challenged Fred.

“I don’t mind going,” said George, “but I don’t believe we’ll have time this afternoon.” His three companions laughed derisively and so aroused his spirit that he said brusquely, “That’s all right, fellows. I’ll go back there as soon as any one of you will go.”

“All right, sir,” called John. “Stop your car, and we’ll all of us go back to the old Meeker House and find out if what you have been telling us is true.”

“Who ever heard,” broke in Grant, “of ghosts walking around in the daytime? The time for us to go there is when the ghosts are showing up well.”

“You didn’t tell us, George, what the ghosts were?”

“No, I didn’t see them,” replied George.

“What do they say they are?”

“Why, the common report is, that ever since the days of the Revolution the ghosts of the Cowboys and Skinners have made their headquarters in the old Meeker House and whenever there’s a night that is especially dark or there is a particularly heavy storm, then they come there and join in the racket.”

“Cowboys?” demanded John. “What do you mean? Those fellows that drive the cattle out on the plains?”

“No, sir, I mean the men who lived in this part of the country when Washington was fighting for the independence of the United States. But even if they did live here they wouldn’t help him. They said they didn’t belong to either side, but the Cowboys usually took advantage of both sides. When the men were away from home they would go into a house, if they thought there was any money hidden in some old stocking, and they would take the women and hold their feet out over the fire until they told where the money was.”

“What were the Skinners?” inquired John.

“Why, they were about the same kind of men, the only difference being that the Cowboys took the families of the patriots, while the Skinners paid their first attention to the Tory families. I guess it didn’t make much difference to either party as long as they found some money or could get any valuables.”

“What did they put up with such things for?”

“They had to put up with more or less of it,” answered George. “You see most of the men were away from home, fighting in the army. That gave the Cowboys and Skinners their chance and they took it. When the men came back the Cowboys and Skinners were gone.”

“They were something like Georgie Porgie, weren’t they?” laughed Grant. “I don’t know who he was, but when a certain part of the population of which he was afraid began to get busy, Georgie Porgie ran away,—likewise the Cowboys and Skinners.”

“It’s all very interesting,” spoke up Fred, “but I don’t believe there’s such a thing in all the world as a ghost.”

“All right, sir,” said George warmly. “All I want you to do is to talk to Uncle Sim and if he doesn’t convince you that the Meeker House is the special place where all the people that walk around in the night have their headquarters, then I’m mistaken.”

“I’ll ask him just as soon as we get back,” said Fred promptly.

Not long afterward the automobile entered the beautiful grounds of the farm where the four boys were spending a part of the summer. The place was attractive because of its quietness and the deep shade in the front yard. A collie dog, lying on the ground, arose and stretched itself and then bounded toward George as soon as the boys alighted. Around the corner of the garage at that moment came Uncle Sim, his broad-brimmed hat carried in his hand and his face shining with perspiration and good nature.

“Well, Uncle Sim,” called Fred. “You can’t guess where we’ve been.”

“No, suh, no, suh,” replied the negro, “I reckon I can’t. Mos’ gen’lly I finds out right soon whar yo’ boys has been. Sometimes I can tell the d’rection in which yo’ all is goin’, even when I can’t see none o’ yo’all.”

“How’s that?” demanded John.

“Why, from the d’rection in which all the dogs and cats and birds and cows and I reckon everything that’s able to get away, is movin’.”

The boys laughed heartily at Uncle Sim’s statement and Grant said, “But, Uncle Sim, you know we are the Go Ahead boys.”

“Yas, suh. Yas, suh, I reckon I’s somewhat familar with dat ar fac’.”

“Uncle Sim, have you ever been in the Meeker House?” spoke up Grant abruptly.

For a moment the old negro was silent as he stared blankly at the boys. Shaking his head he said, “What fo’ yo’ ask me that question?”

“Because I want to know,” said Grant.

“No, suh. I ain’t never been inside the Meeker House, but I’s been so close dat I could hear what was er goin’ on.”

“Why, what is going on there?” inquired Fred. “The house seemed to me to be deserted. Does any one live there?”

“No, suh. No, suh, no one lives dar. Leastwise, no one live dar in the daytime.”

“Who lives there at night?” inquired Fred.

Once more the negro was silent and it was evident that the boy’s question had aroused certain feelings in the heart of Uncle Sim.

“Yo’ all better take my advice,” said the old negro, shaking his head in a still more solemn manner. “Yo’ better keep away from de Meeker House.”

“Why?” inquired John.

“No good comes to anybody dat goes to the Meeker House in the night time.”

“But how do you know, Uncle Sim? You say you have never been there?”

“Yo’ all keep away from dar. Min’ what I tell you. Don’t none o’ you’ boys go near dat old Meeker House after sundown.”

“But you make us want to go all the more,” said Grant.

Uncle Sim merely shook his head and made no further comment. It was plain, however, that he was seriously troubled by the statement of Grant and that he was sincere in his warning.

“I say, fellows,” called Fred quickly, “why don’t we go over to the Meeker House to-night? It looks as if it is going to be cloudy,” he added as he glanced up at the sky. “This will be just the ideal night. If there’s anything uncanny around the place we’ll be likely to find it out. Oh, you needn’t go if you don’t want to,” he added quickly upon George’s unspoken protest. “You and Uncle Sim will be excused, if you don’t want to go.”

“If you fellows go I’m not going to be left behind,” spoke up George promptly.

“Then it’s all fixed,” declared Fred gleefully. “We’ll go to the Meeker House to-night.”