“That’s queer!” he muttered. “But I ain’t surprised. Last night was the
night.”
“What night?” I demanded.
“Ten years ago an old man was murdered in that cabin, and his son swore
on his deathbed he’d come back every anniversary and lure somebody into
the cabin for the night and torture him.”
He shuddered, his white face staring at the cabin.
“Come away!” he whispered. “Come away! It’s haunted! It’s haunted!”