There was no question about the repetition of the strange sound in the upper room. To the excited boy there were evidences that people were walking over the board floors. Indeed, he was positive he could hear the slow, measured footfalls of some one who was walking back and forth in the room directly above him. A moment later he was equally convinced that the sound of the whistling creatures which had been heard when the four boys first visited the house was now repeated.

A moment later there came a rushing sound of many wings. For a moment Fred’s courage almost deserted him, his flesh seemed to creep. He stopped abruptly in the darkness and spoke aloud to himself, “This will never do. It is all foolishness. There isn’t any such thing as a spook anyway, so why should you be afraid of one?”

At that moment, however, the sound of the rushing wings was heard again and all Fred’s efforts to strengthen his heart proved unavailing. The flying creatures were in the cellar, there was no question about that now. Fred almost cried aloud as he heard the wings coming closer to the place he was standing.

A moment later the flying creatures seemed to be circling the cellar and in the midst of it all the sharp twitter which had so strangely impressed him the preceding evening was now heard again and within a few feet of him. Then, too, there was the sound of some one walking again in the room above him. Had Fred been in a less nervous condition he would have been aware that it was no ghostly walk which he heard, for the footfalls were heavy and plainly those of some one whose weight was not slight. Fred, however, was in no condition calmly to consider these things. The darkness was almost appalling now and surrounded as he was by unseen winged creatures his fears redoubled.

He looked again at the cellar windows, but escape through them was impossible. Almost in a frenzy the frightened boy decided that help must be found from some source. In his desperation he ran to the cellar door and pushed against it with all his strength. To his amazement the door readily yielded to his onslaught. He pushed up the heavy door and in a moment he was in the yard.

He was in the kitchen when the door once more fell back into its place. The loud report startled the unseen creatures and even after he had gained the ground outside the building he heard the strange twittering that seemed now to come from the chimney. The noise made by the wings of the flying creatures also was plainly heard. Whatever the explanation might be the whole place and experience seemed so uncanny to the nervous boy that he instantly fled toward the road not far away.

Even when he gained the highway his one supreme thought still was of flight. Instantly beginning to run he steadily increased the pace at which he was fleeing until his breathing became labored and perspiration was pouring down his face. Occasionally he glanced behind him in his mad flight and on one occasion as he did so his foot was caught in some obstruction and he was thrown heavily upon the ground.

Falling, however, was not uncommon in the experience of Fred. Indeed, his friends declared that he was like a rubber ball, he bounced up after every fall as if the contact with the ground had only afforded him additional power.

The road was dusty and as Fred’s flight continued his appearance became steadily worse. Fortunately, however, in the dim light not one of the few people who met him recognized him, or discovered his plight. The one great purpose in his mind was still to run. The greatest possible distance between himself and the old Meeker House must be made and in his determination this distance steadily and rapidly increased. Occasionally he glanced behind the trees, the dim outlines of which were plainly to be seen. Somehow there was a fear in his mind that some enemy might be loitering behind these shelters. Once when he ran past an old and deserted barn that stood near the roadway he was confident that he heard sounds of weird laughter issuing from the tumbling structure. Indeed, in whichever direction the boy looked, it seemed to him he discovered evidences of the very enemies whom he had left behind him in his flight.

Somehow at last Fred found himself in the long, shaded lane or driveway that led from the road up to the house of his friend. The trees were tall poplars and stood like sentinels guarding each side of the road. Even now Fred’s fears had not disappeared, although he saw the lights gleam from the windows of the old farmhouse before him.

So weary was he by his long flight and worn by his excitement that when at last he swiftly mounted the steps of the piazza his foot slipped and once more the unfortunate boy fell upon the floor.

Aroused by the sound his three friends instantly rushed from the room in which they were seated and a moment later discovered their friend in his predicament.

“What in the world is the matter with you?” demanded George as the three boys gazed in astonishment at Fred.

“N-n-o-t-h-in’. N-n-o-t-h-in’,” gasped Fred.

“You look as if there was nothing doing,” said Grant, repressing a smile as the plight of Fred became manifest in the light. “Actually you look as if you belonged in a lunatic asylum.”

“I guess I do,” responded Fred.

“Well, what’s the matter?” demanded John. “You haven’t told us where you have been nor what you have been doing.”

“I can’t. I can’t now,” said Fred. “Give me a chance to rest up.”

“You need a bath more than you need a rest,” declared George laughingly, as he became convinced that nothing serious had happened to his friend. “Come upstairs and I’ll see that you get what you deserve.”

“It’s lucky everybody doesn’t get what he deserves. If he did—”

“Never mind that,” directed George. “Come on upstairs and take your bath and get a change of clothes and you’ll feel in your right mind once more.”

Acting promptly upon the suggestion Fred withdrew from his friends for a time and a half-hour later, when he returned to the piazza, he was not able entirely to conceal his feeling of chagrin. It was true that he had had some strange experiences, but it was difficult now to believe that they were all real. Certainly his companions were very much in evidence and as they seated themselves, George said promptly, “Now my lad, tell us what happened to you.”

“Well, I don’t mind telling you,” said Fred, “that I went over to the old Meeker House.”

“That’s just what I thought,” laughed George, “and you stayed there until it was so dark that you heard those strange noises again, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir, I did that, and a good deal more.”

“What else? Tell us about it. Why don’t you talk?” demanded John impatiently.

“It isn’t anything I want to talk much about,” said Fred positively in a low voice. “I tell you there’s something strange about that house. I went over there late this afternoon and found a tramp.”

“Where?” broke in George. “In the house?”

“Yes, it was in the house and he at once offered to become my guide, counselor and friend.”

“What do you mean?” inquired Grant.

“Just what I say,” said Fred. “He showed me through the old building. Finally he took me into the cellar and left me there, though he took pains not to close the old cellar-door. For a while I didn’t mind it, but when I found I couldn’t get out of the place, for the windows were too small for me to crawl through, and I couldn’t lift the big door, I didn’t know just what to do.”

“Well, what did you do?” demanded John.

“Why, I called, shouted and whistled through the window, but I couldn’t get anybody to pay any attention to me. Yes, there was one who heard me,” he added. “He was a small boy driving a cow and when he heard the calls from the old Meeker House he lost no time in withdrawing from that part of the country. Even the cow he was driving seemed to feel just as he did, for her tail went up and her head down and she joined in the race in that graceful, polite way that cows have when they run.”

“It’s plain you saw something besides the spooks then,” said George, laughing heartily. “Look yonder,” he added quickly, pointing as he spoke toward the end of the piazza.

In the dim light Uncle Sim was seen standing there, his eye-balls shining and his intense interest in the conversation of the boys manifest in the expression of his face.

“Yas, suh. Yas, suh,” he said when the boys first became aware of his presence, “I don’ tol’ yo’ not to go near dat ol’ Meeker House.”

“Don’t you ever go there?” asked Fred.

“Me go dar? No, suh. No, suh. It would take fo’ yoke ob oxen to make me go inside dat ol’ house in de daytime and in de night I reckon Caleb’s Army couldn’t drive me in dar’.”

“What became of your tramp friend?” inquired George when the boys arose to enter the room.

“That’s what I should like to know,” said Fred somewhat ruefully.

“Well, come on in, we’ll all feel better after dinner,” said George cheerfully, as he led the way into the dining room.

The strange experience which had befallen Fred was the chief topic of conversation. Even their interest, however, was broken when a half-hour had passed and word was brought that Uncle Sim was desirous of speaking at once to Mr. George.

Excusing himself George withdrew from the dining room and a few minutes later when he returned he said, “What do you think has happened, fellows?”

“We don’t know. How should we know?” retorted John. “If you’ve got something to say why don’t you say it?”

“That’s just what I am going to do,” said George, but he had scarcely begun his statement before his three friends leaped from their seats at the table and quickly followed him as he led the way out of the house.