There had been a moment of intense silence which was sharply broken by a long whistling sound, that seemed to come from some place directly behind the spot where the boys were standing. This sound was followed by a prolonged sigh and this in turn was abruptly ended when out of the darkness there came a call, “F-r-e-d! Fred Button!” The call was in a low tone but coming as it did after the startling events which had occurred was almost more than Fred was able to bear. His nerves were unstrung and without a word he turned and swiftly made for the door, which fortunately had been left open.

Nor had Fred been long out of the house before he was joined by his companions. George, who previously had gone around to the rear door, came as quickly as John and Grant.

For a brief time the boys assembled under the branches of a huge cherry tree that was growing in one corner of the yard.

“What do you make of that?” demanded George. “I told you you might hear something about Fagan and the Cowboys if you went into that old Meeker House.”

“It wasn’t what I heard about them that troubled me,” retorted Fred. “It was when I heard my own name called.”

“Honest?” demanded George.

“Yes, sir. You ask the other fellows. Somebody right behind me called ‘Fred.’ ‘Fred Button.’ I was standing where I could see straight through the window and I am perfectly sure there wasn’t anybody there. If you’ll tell me how the thing was done I’ll be much obliged to you.”

“It wasn’t done at all,” laughed George. “You were just dreaming. It’s one of those attacks of nightmare that you have some times. Don’t you remember when we were at Mackinac,^[1] how one night we had to throw some cold water in your face to make you wake up?”

“I guess that was the same night,” retorted Fred, “when I had to administer condign and physical chastisement to you, you were kicking so in the bed.”

“Yes, I have a very vivid recollection of that part of that night.”

“Almost as vivid as you have of to-night,” laughed George.

“I don’t see anything to laugh at,” said Fred sharply. “You ask the other fellows if somebody didn’t call my name.”

“It did sound like it,” said John, “but then we were ready to believe almost anything and when Fred said there was somebody calling him we all heard ‘Fred’ on every side of us. What are we doing out here, anyway? Why don’t we go back there and look into it?”

“I’m going to look into it,” said Fred quickly, “but I’m not going to look when I can’t see. It’s so dark to-night that you can’t find anything.”

“You seem to have found some things that made you leave the room faster than George goes when he runs the hundred in ten flat.”

“Maybe I did,” admitted Fred, “but if I did I want to tell you I never ran a race in which I was so hard pushed as I was to-night. There wasn’t room to put a sheet of paper between Grant and me.”

“That’s all right,” spoke up Grant. “I didn’t take any part in your foolish conversation, but what I want to know is how you can account for these things.”

“If you ask me,” said George, “I’m not accounting for them.”

“But there’s some way to find out what these things mean. There isn’t one of us a big enough fool to believe that there is such a thing as a ghost and yet we got into the old Meeker House,—”

“If there isn’t any ghost,” spoke up George, “then I don’t see where the trouble is. You can’t be afraid of something that isn’t, can you?”

“I don’t suppose you can,” admitted Grant, “but sometimes you can be afraid of things you think are when they are not.”

“You’re getting too deep for me,” said Fred. “What I want to know is about those wings. That room seemed to be just full of something that was flying all around.”

“I’ll tell you what it was,” spoke up John.

“What was it?” inquired Fred quickly.

“Cherubs.”

“What?”

“Cherubs. Don’t you know what cherubs are? They are just heads with wings. You can find them on old tomb-stones and in the pictures of some of the old books. I have always thought that a cherub must be almost as happy as the people said he used to be. He didn’t have to bother about any clothes except neckties and a hat. It doesn’t take him very long to get from one place to another. In fact I think if Fred here was a cherub he would have had less trouble getting out of that house to-night than he did.”

“You seem to be greatly troubled about my leaving that house,” spoke up Fred testily. “I noticed that I wasn’t alone.”

“Except when you started,” suggested Grant. “We thought you were in trouble and came out to see if we could help.”

“You did?” laughed Fred derisively. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Grant, if you’ll go back into that house with me right now I’ll go too.”

“I’m going back there,” said Grant slowly, “but as has been said I am going back when I can see something.”

“That’s what I thought,” retorted Fred tauntingly.

“It’s all right, fellows,” spoke up George. “I guess we have had enough for one night. I don’t suppose there really is anything in the things we have heard to-night, and we’ll find out pretty soon just what it is, but until we do I think it’s great fun to go into the old house and stir up the spooks.”

“Do you know, I have an idea what those flying creatures were?” suggested John.

“What were they?” inquired George.

“Bats probably.”

“Bats?” exclaimed Fred scornfully. “Bats? Why those things had wings at least two feet long. You could hear them flapping over your head.”

“That’s about on the scale that you heard and saw everything to-night, Fred. That is, everything except the length of the steps you took when you were leaving. I would like to understand how a fellow who is only five feet four can take steps that are ten feet long.”

“There’s only one answer to that,” said George, “and that is, he didn’t.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” retorted Grant. “You didn’t see him. I did.”

“See me?” exclaimed Fred. “See me! Why his hands were right on my shoulder all the while. I couldn’t shake him off. He almost had me there two or three times. I’m not sure that I wouldn’t rather have Fagan’s spook get hold of me than Grant’s hands when he is as scared as he was to-night.”

“Well, fellows, what shall we do?” inquired George. “Do you want to give it up or go back?”

“Both,” said Fred quickly. “We’re not going back again to-night and we’re not going to give it up. We’re going ahead and find out what there is in that tomfoolery.”

“Well, I see you have a little piece of nerve left yet,” laughed George. “I told you what was coming but you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Was that the reason why you went outside, George?” demanded John. “You remember, fellows,” he added, turning to his companions, “George went around to the back of the old house. He was outside where he could get a fine running start if he had to.”

“That may all be,” said George slowly, “but my running start wasn’t much compared with the one you fellows had. If you didn’t get a running start I am wondering what time you would make if you had one. My, what a thing it would be at the track meet to have one of these ghosts to start the fellows off. I think the next time I see Grant on the track I’ll yell Fagan at him. I think he will break the record if I do. Especially if Fred is just ahead of him. If you’re not going back into the house,” he continued, “I think we had better go back to the machine and start for home.”

The boys all agreed and soon were seated in the car, riding swiftly back toward the farm.

Their confidence returned in proportion to the distance that intervened between them and the house which they had just visited. Indeed, when at last they arrived at the farmhouse every one was loud in his declaration that he had not been frightened by what had occurred and was strong in his determination to go back and investigate the things which had seemed so mysterious.

Nevertheless, in spite of their boasting, it was plain that Fred was somewhat chagrined by the quickness and rapidity of his departure from the old Meeker House. Several times that evening a sly allusion to his speed brought a quick retort.

The following morning, however, the courage and good spirits of the boys had returned in full measure. Even Fred was not afraid to acknowledge his fear of the night before and laughed as heartily as any of his friends when they described his antics in his flight from the house.

“That doesn’t make any difference,” he asserted strongly. “I’m still one of the Go Ahead boys and I haven’t given up the plan I spoke about.”

“What’s your plan, Freddie?” laughed John.

“I’m going to look into the old house by daylight.”

“I wouldn’t do that yet,” suggested George soberly. “It seems to me the best plan will be for us to go down there again to-night and find out whether or not there really is anything in what we thought we heard and saw last night.”

“We might take a gun,” suggested Grant.

“What would you shoot?” said Fred scornfully. “Suppose you did find a spook and shot it, what good would it do? I suppose they aren’t like other people.”

After a long consultation it finally was agreed that another visit to the mysterious house should be made that evening and then if anything strange occurred the boys would make further investigation the following day.

[1] See “The Go Ahead Boys on Smugglers’ Island.”