Conversation ceased during the remainder of the ride. The silence was broken two or three times by George, who was driving the car as he looked behind him at his companions and laughed aloud. No response was given to his implied invitations to describe their feelings and as they came nearer the end of their journey the chagrin under which all three boys were suffering became still more marked.

At last when they were once more in the house, Fred, unable longer to remain silent, said abruptly, “I know there isn’t anything in the racket at the old Meeker House, but in spite of it all I confess I’m scared when I hear those strange sounds.”

“What are you afraid of?” laughed George.

“I don’t know what I’m afraid of,” said Fred, “but it scares me half out of my wits.”

“There’s something very strange about it,” broke in John. “I don’t believe in spooks and such things, but no one has told us yet what the sound of those flying wings means and they haven’t explained how a fellow can get in there and hear his name called from seven different parts of the house at the same time.”

“What about that horn?” inquired Grant. “That’s the strangest part of it all to me.”

“Do you know,” said Fred, “I’m sure that horn that blows in the old house is the one that used to be on George’s car.”

“No, it can’t be,” said George. “There’s nothing but ghosts in the Meeker House and so it could be only the ghost of that horn if there really is anything there.”

“Well, it isn’t the ghost of a sound,” declared John positively. “It’s a real noise let me tell you and when you hear it as I did to-night, first right close to your ear, and then, a second or two later, sounding as if it came from the attic or the cellar you’re ready to believe almost anything.”

“Too ready, I’m afraid,” laughed George.

“The next time we go there,” spoke up Fred, “I move that George Sanders be selected to go into the house by the front door. If you remember, fellows, he has always slipped out every time we went there and gone around to the kitchen door.”

“I believe he knows more about it than he has told us yet,” declared John.

“All I know,” said George solemnly, “is that some of the Go Ahead boys have reversed their name. Whenever they pluck up courage enough to go to the old house they always go there with fear and trembling. They walk as if they were traveling to their own funeral, but when they leave they make better time than I ever saw any of them make on the cinder path. I think that we ought to change the name. They aren’t Go Ahead boys any more, they are the Go Backward or the Get Away boys.”

“I notice,” spoke up Grant, “that you didn’t stand very long in the way of your own departure. At least I haven’t noticed yet that you have been very far behind any of us when we ran from the place.”

“Of course you haven’t,” said George. “I have to look after my guests, don’t I? And if they are in such a hurry to leave, it wouldn’t be very polite for me to stay.”

“Don’t leave on our account,” said Fred dryly.

“I guess there isn’t much danger that you wouldn’t any other time,” laughed George. “Perhaps you don’t need any help after all. I was just trying to be polite.”

“It’s too great an effort,” said Fred. “Don’t try it again, but what are you going to do about that stolen car?”

“I’m going ahead,” replied George.

“You certainly have a strange way of doing it then,” retorted Fred. “It seems to me you were going all around it.”

“Never you mind,” said George. “We’ll have that car back in our garage in less than a week, you mark my words and see if we don’t.”

“If we do,” declared Grant, “it won’t be any fault of ours. I guess your father will be the one that will find it.”

“He will help,” laughed George.

“Help,” repeated Fred. “If we keep up the idiotic kind of a search we made to-day I guess he will have to do the whole thing.”

“Perhaps he will,” admitted George. “I’m not jealous. If we can only get that car back, that’s about all I want.”

“Well, I’m going to bed,” declared John. “This has been my busy day.”

“And you haven’t told us yet what you were doing,” suggested Grant.

“I guess I don’t have to tell you,” said John. “All three of you seem to know more about Uncle Sim and me and what we have been doing to-day than we do ourselves.”

In a brief time the boys had withdrawn from the room and sought their beds.

The following morning when three of the Go Ahead boys went down stairs they discovered George talking over the telephone.

“Yes,” he was saying. “That’s all right. We’ll start right after breakfast. Thank you very much. Good-by.”

As he hung up the receiver George turned to his friends and said, “What would you fellows say if I told you that I had some word about the car?”

“We would all say that it was a good word, anyway,” said Fred promptly.

“I was just talking to my father who told me that he had received a telegram this morning from Newburgh.”

“That’s in New York State,” spoke up Fred.

“Correct,” answered George. “I’m glad that for once in your life you are correctly informed.”

“You want to be thankful,” retorted Fred, “that once in your life you were able to appreciate the information I possess. I haven’t a stingy thing about me, and I have been trying to be generous and give you some of the knowledge I have acquired, after long and painful effort, but you do not seem to appreciate my kind heart.”

“My father says that the best thing for us to do will be to take the old car and go straight to Newburgh. We may have to stay all night, so you had better go prepared.”

“We aren’t going before breakfast, are we?” demanded Grant.

“No, my lean and hungry friend, we’ll wait until the wants of the inner man are satisfied.”

“Not that,” said Fred. “Not that. You mean you will wait long enough for him to eat all he needs, but not all he wants. We aren’t going to start from here before sunset, if you don’t mean that.”

Conversation was not as brisk after the boys entered the dining room, but when their breakfast had been eaten and they followed George as he led the way to the garage they were all as talkative as before.

“Going to take Uncle Sim with you?” inquired Grant.

“No,” answered George. “I’ll have to leave him to look after the place!”

“How long before we start?” inquired John.

“About three minutes. Are you going with us to-day?”

“You’re right I am,” declared John. “I stayed home yesterday to make my own investigations in the old Meeker House.”

“And you have finished them all?” inquired George with a laugh.

“I can’t say that the investigations are all finished, but I am. Yes, sir, I’m done. You don’t catch me alone in that old house again.”

“But I thought Uncle Sim went with you,” suggested Fred.

“Uncle Sim? Uncle Sim? I would rather have an infant in arms with me. Uncle Sim was scared before we were inside the house and after that everything he saw or heard all helped to scare him still more.”

“He surely was scared last night,” laughed Fred as he recalled the plight of the aged negro.

“He was that,” said John solemnly, “but the worst of it is he scared me too. You know they say that a man doesn’t run because he’s scared, he’s scared because he runs. I don’t know much about that, but I guess it worked both ways with me. I know I was scared before I ran and I know I was scared a good deal worse after I began to run.”

“Never mind, John,” said George, “We’ll have a fine ride to-day. We’re going up through Ramapo Valley, through that place my father was telling you about where young Montagnie was taken prisoner so many years ago by the cowboys.”

“I hope there won’t be anybody there to make prisoners of us,” declared Grant solemnly. “Do you ever have any hold-ups there now?”

“Not every day,” explained George.

“What do you mean by that?” demanded Grant as he turned sharply upon George.

“Just what I say,” repeated George.

“You don’t really think we’ll have any trouble, do you?” inquired Fred anxiously.

“I cannot say,” said George slowly. “There comes a gentleman now who belongs to the fraternity. Perhaps he can tell you more about it than I.” As he spoke the three boys glanced quickly toward the kitchen door. Approaching it was a man who bore every indication of being a tramp.

“Hold on, fellows,” whispered Fred, excitedly, “that’s the very same tramp I met over in the old Meeker House.”

“Sure about that?” asked George quickly.

“Yes, it’s the same man.”

“Come on, then,” said George, “We’ll go up and interview him.”

The tramp now was seated on the stone step and hungrily was devouring the breakfast which had been given him.

“How long since you have been in the old Meeker House?” inquired Fred as he approached the stranger.

As the man looked up he recognized his companion of the former night and a smile spread over his countenance. “I just came from there,” he said.

“Were you in the house all night?” demanded Fred quickly.

“Yes. Why?”

“Did you hear any strange sounds?”

“Not one.”

“Didn’t you see anything that scared you?”

“No, sir, nothing scared me.”

“And you say you were there all night?”

“That’s what I say. I crawled in there right after sunset and went to sleep. I told you the other night that I sometimes sleep there in my travels.”

“I don’t understand why you didn’t hear anything,” said John, “if you really were in the house. I was there and I heard some things.”

“What?” The tramp paused in his occupation and stared blankly at John as he spoke.

“The same things that happen there every night. There were some creatures flying all around the room—”

“Ostriches,” said the tramp soberly.

“And there must have been a good many people there too because they called me by my name and at the same time from every part of the house.”

“A part of Washington’s army,” said the tramp.

“I don’t know who they were, but the thing that scared me most of all was the tooting of an automobile horn. First it sounded right close to my ear and then it seemed to come from all parts of the house at once.”

“Nothing but the wind whistling around the eaves,” said the tramp. “I don’t mind telling you though that there have been times when I have heard sounds over there that made me think of the horn of an auto—”

“Didn’t you hear it last night?” demanded John.

“No. Where are you boys going?” the tramp abruptly added.

“We’re going to look for a lost automobile,” said Fred. “You haven’t seen one lately, have you?”

“Did you lose a car?” inquired the tramp, ignoring the question.

“We certainly have lost it,” said George, “or rather somebody has taken it.”

“And you know where it is now?”

“We’ve got word where it may be and we’re going to find out.”

Fred had been watching the tramp closely throughout the conversation and when George abruptly turned back to the garage he instantly followed him.