"Now then," I said, "what's all this nonsense about bogies? A big
strong girl like you ought to have better sense than to imagine such
things."
She began to whimper.
"I seen it--I seen it! It was all spoutin' fire! It was Jakey
Menning as sure as there's a livin' God! Oh-h--I don't want to look
at it ... I don't want to!"
She went off into another hysterical spasm, and it took all my force
to hold her still while her aunt went for water. When it was over,
and she lay back on the pillows, still sobbing exhaustedly, I took
Mrs. Sliefer aside.
"Give me pen and ink," I said, "and have someone drive down to the
drug store with this prescription at once. I'll wait here till it's
brought back. Your niece will probably be all right tomorrow, after
a night's sleep, but keep her in bed a day in any case."
She took the prescription and gave it to her husband. We heard his
heavy boots creaking out to the back door. I turned to Mrs. Sliefer.
"And now," I said, "you're a clever, sensible woman. What's your
idea of all this nonsense?"
Mrs. Sliefer was obviously flattered by my description. She mopped
her flat round face, still shining from the walk.
"Rebecca ain't no liar," she said. "She's a good up-standin' girl,
an' she ain't never showed no foolishness before this. We was
talking about Dutchman's Hill on'y a few nights ago, and Rebecca was
the first to laugh about it. 'I'd like to see the ghost'd scare me!'
she said, right there. No. Rebecca seen suthin, or she wouldn't ha'
come home the state she did. An' as for it's bein' Jakey, she'd
oughter know Jakey Mennin' well enough, seein' he's brought the wagon
round here time an' ag'n when Aaron was busy."
"You don't tell me you believe in the foolish talk there's been, Mrs.
Sliefer!"
She stiffened.
"No, an' I ain't sayin' I do, but sperrits or no sperrits, Mr.
Sliefer's goin' to get to the bottom of this. Seems to me there' a
law had ought to deal with respectable girls bein' frightened out of
their wits ten yards from their own door-step!"
"Listen," I said. "It seems that your niece has been the victim of a
very cruel and foolish practical joke, but there's no good going into
the matter here and now. Only look after her. If anyone is playing
tricks around the saw-mill, keep her away from there. She's in no
state to risk any more shocks. Don't let her go wandering about
alone."
"I wouldn't ha' let her last night, on'y she was so sure of findin'
George Freeman there. Rebecca was born an' brought up here, and she
knows the woods as well as our own front yard. But there'll be an
end of these doin's, an' I told her so."
"That's right." I paused a moment. "Who was here, the evening that
your niece spoke of not being frightened?"
"Only us an' Mis' Scholl there, an' George Freeman. There wasn't one
of 'em would play a trick on her. An' George Freeman was in at the
house a'ready when Rebecca come runnin' back."
I did not leave until the farmer returned, and I had seen Rebecca
already quiet and subdued under the influence of the sleeping draught
I had prescribed for her. Then Herrick and I drove home through the
dusk to the ruined supper which Mrs. Searle had prepared so
painstakingly for six o'clock.
"Well," I said to him, "what do you make of it?"
Herrick smiled.
"Ghosts don't usually 'holler,'" he said, "and Rebecca seems to have
been very clear on the hollering, if on nothing else. I think we may
dismiss the theory of the defunct Jakey. And by the way, who was
Jakey Menning, and what is this extraordinary tangle about a place
called Dutchman's Hill?"