“What do you suppose that means?” demanded Fred in a whisper.

“Things are seldom what they seem,” said Grant.

“What do you mean?” again demanded Fred, turning sharply upon his friend. “Don’t you think there are lights there? Didn’t you hear the sound of the automobile horn?”

“I certainly did,” acknowledged Grant, “but that isn’t all there is to it. There are some things we don’t see in connection with these things.”

“Come on,” urged George, “let’s all get out and go in there and see if we cannot see those other things that Grant is telling about.”

For a moment there was silence in the little party, but at last, as no one was desirous of being looked upon as cowardly by his friends, all four boys stepped down upon the ground.

“Come on, Uncle Sim,” called George. “You aren’t going to be left behind.”

“We don’ lose one car,” remarked the aged negro, his teeth chattering as he spoke.

“And we don’t want to lose another, do we, Uncle Sim?” said George. “I don’t think anybody can take it without our knowing it, so you can come along, Uncle Sim, if you want to.”

“Yas, suh. Yas, suh,” responded the negro. “D’rec’ly, d’rec’ly.”

George laughed, as the old man slowly and with manifest reluctance climbed down upon the ground. His “mis’ry” plainly was unusually troublesome, for he walked with a great effort and very slowly. Indeed, he groaned with every step that he took, as he followed the boys on their way to the old house.

Silence fell upon the party when they drew near the building. No lights now were to be seen in any of its windows. Silence rested over the quaint old structure and apparently there was nothing to explain the strange sights and sounds which recently had issued from the venerable building.

“You boys stay here and go into the house by the front door and I’ll go around to the kitchen,” said George.

“What for?” demanded Fred.

“Why, we’ll be more certain,” explained George, “to find out if there is anything wrong here if we come at the old house from two sides.”

“I think I’ll go with you,” spoke up Grant quickly.

“There’s no need of that,” protested George sharply. Indeed the lad spoke too sharply, for the suspicions of Grant were instantly aroused by the evident desire of his friend not to have him accompany him. Knowledge of that fact, however, was sufficient of itself to increase Grant’s determination.

“We had better divide up the party evenly,” he suggested. “John and Fred can stay here and watch this side and I’ll go with you around to the kitchen door.”

With manifest reluctance, though he made no further protest, George accepted the suggestion of his friend and together the two boys soon disappeared from the sight of their companions.

“Who’s that?” whispered Fred as he grasped the arm of John, who was standing beside him, and pointing to an approaching figure of a man.

“That’s Uncle Sim,” replied John after a hasty glance at the approaching form.

John’s words were verified when a few moments later Uncle Sim, his voice trembling and his terror manifest in his entire bearing, approached the spot where the two boys were standing. Indeed, had it not been for the presence of John and Fred, Uncle Sim with all his “mis’ry” would not have been induced to approach the uncanny place.

“Come on,” said John a moment later. “We’re going into the house to find out about those lights.”

No protest was made and together the two boys, followed by Uncle Sim, whose reluctance manifestly increased with every passing moment, pushed open the sagging front door and entered the front room.

For a moment they were unable to distinguish any objects in the darkness. From the small windows the faint light entered, but it was not sufficient to enable the boys to see about them. Suddenly the strange whirring of winds was heard again. Now the sound came from the ceiling and then again it seemed to the startled boys that it was close to the place where they were standing. Back and forth and up and down the strange sounds continued, occasionally broken by a plaintive note as if the creature that was darting about the room was in terror or pain.

Uncle Sim, unable longer to control his feelings, began to pray, but even his prayer did not prevent him from speedily fleeing from the room.

Fred glanced through the open door and saw the old negro making most excellent time as he ran across the field toward the waiting automobile. Under other circumstances he would have laughed heartily, but just now there was excitement sufficient to prevent the boys from following the retreating old negro.

In the midst of the sounds of the wings suddenly a prolonged groan was heard. It seemed to both Fred and John that it issued from some place close to them. Several times the startling noise was repeated and then was followed by a strange whistling.

For some reason, which neither of the two boys explained to the other, they had not advanced farther into the room. Both glanced behind them to make certain that the door was still open and their way of escape was unimpeded.

“Where are the other fellows?” whispered Fred.

“I don’t know. Shall I call them?”

“Yes,” said Fred eagerly,

“Hello, there is George. Where are you, Grant?” called John, striving to speak boldly, though in spite of his efforts his voice trembled as he spoke.

Instead of a response from their companion a faint sound of an auto horn was heard in the old building. It was mournful beyond the power of either boy to describe. Instead of the sharp, short “honk,” it was prolonged and weird.

“This is too much for me,” said Fred sharply. “I have seen all I want to see. The other fellows aren’t here and I’m not going into this old house any further unless I can see my way.”

“What’s that? What’s that?” whispered John excitedly.

As he spoke the sound of some one running around the corner of the house was heard by both boys. In a moment John and Fred were outside the old building and as they became aware that the fugitives were George and Grant they lost no time in following them.

In the distance Uncle Sim could be seen climbing into the automobile. It was marvelous too what excellent time all four boys were making. Swiftly as George and Grant were running they were soon overtaken by their companions and together all four arrived at the place in the road where their automobile had been left.

At that moment there came a sound from the old Meeker House very like a wild burst of laughter. This was repeated and the terror of Uncle Sim became still more pronounced.

“There goes that auto horn again,” said George, as he grasped the wheel and looked behind to see if his friends were ready to start. “Uncle Sim,” called George just before he started, “I wish you would see if that back tire on the left is all right. We don’t want to start out on a flat tire.”

“Yas, suh. Yas, suh,” answered Uncle Sim quickly, as he obediently climbed out of the car and inspected the tire. “It’s all right, suh,” he repeated. “It’s all right.”

In his eagerness to be gone George at once started, unaware that the aged negro had not yet returned to his seat.

His ignorance was speedily dispelled when from the darkness behind them came several agonizing calls for help, “Hi dar, don’t leave me! Don’t leave me! Wait! Wait dar!”

As the boys glanced behind them they saw the old man running swiftly toward them and making even better time than when he had departed from the old Meeker House.

Obediently George stopped the automobile and in a moment Uncle Sim, breathless and excited, climbed into the seat.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand, Uncle Sim,” said George, laughing as he spoke.

“Yas, suh. Yas, suh,” responded the negro. “Dat’s jes’ de way I feel.”

“What I can’t understand,” said George, “is why it is so hard for you to walk when you are working around the place and it’s so easy for you to run when you have been left behind.”

“Dat’s so. Yas, suh,” answered the negro. “I jes’ cain’t explain dat mahself.”

Apparently George was the only member of the party that was willing to talk and even he soon lost his desire as few responses were made to his various suggestions.

Uncle Sim, however, with chattering teeth and trembling voice, frequently expressed his displeasure over the attempt of the boys to belittle the sounds which had come from the old Meeker House.

At last Uncle Sim declared solemnly, “I jes’ made up my mind how dat ar automobile was taken.”

“How was that?” demanded George.

“It’s de spooks back in de ole Meeker House. Dey make all de trouble.”

The four boys were now far enough from the scene of their recent adventure to permit of their looking more calmly at their surroundings. Their former fear had departed as the distance between them and the old house had increased. When Uncle Sim made this solemn declaration as to the cause of the loss of the automobile they all laughed heartily, although the aged negro strongly maintained his repeated declarations.

“Yas, suh. Yas, suh,” he declared, “Dar’s somethin’ strange ‘bout all dis rumpus. Yo’ hear de spirits in de ole house and you see de lights from de windows, and den you hear de autermobile ho’n. Dat’s de way it is, yas, suh. Yo’ couldn’t find that automobile if yo’ was to search dat old house from de cellar up to de garret and yet de ho’n kept er blowin’ and er blowin’ all de time.”

“I think you’re mistaken, Uncle Sim,” laughed George.

“No, suh. No, suh. Dat’s jes’ de way it is. I feel shore you’ll neber see dat autermobile agin.”

“You think it is in the old house?” demanded Fred.

“No, suh. No, suh. I didn’t say as how it is exac’ly in de ole house, but what I says is dat de persons what’s in de ole house can tell yo’ what become of dat ar autermobile, an’ it was our autermobile ho’n what was er blowin’ dar. Yas, suh, I’d know dat ho’n if I heard it er hundred miles from here.”

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said George suddenly.

“Tell ahead,” said Fred. “What is it you’ll do?”

“I’ll dare the crowd to go back to the old Meeker House.”

“We’ll take your dare,” responded Fred promptly.