GHOSTS
Jack and Bob had to amuse Columbus with stories, to divert his mind from
the notion that Pewee and his party meant them some harm. The Indian
burying-ground was not an uncommon place of resort on Sundays for
loafers and idlers, and now and then parties came from as far as
Greenbank, to have the pleasure of a ride and the amusement of digging
up Indian relics from the cemetery on the hill. This hill-top commanded
a view of the Ohio River for many miles in both directions, and of the
Kentucky River, which emptied into the Ohio just opposite. I do not know
whether the people who can find amusement in digging up bones and
throwing them down-hill enjoy scenery or not, but I have heard it urged
that even some dumb animals, as horses, enjoy a landscape; and I once
knew a large dog, in Switzerland, who would sit enchanted for a long
time on the brink of a mountain cliff, gazing off at the lake below. It
is only fair to suppose, therefore, that even these idle diggers in
Indian mounds had some pleasure in looking from a hill-top; at any rate,
they were fond of frequenting this one. Pewee, and Riley, and Ben Berry,
and two or three others of the same feather, had come down on this
Sunday to see the Indian Mound and to find any other sport that might
lie in their reach. When they had dug up and thrown away down the steep
hill-side enough bones to satisfy their jackal proclivities, they began
to cast about them for some more exciting diversion. As there were no
water-melon patches nor orchards to be robbed at this season of the
year, they decided to have an egg-supper, and then to wait for the moon
to rise after midnight before starting to row and cordelle their two
boats up the river again to Greenbank. The fun of an egg-supper to
Pewee's party consisted not so much in the eggs as in the manner of
getting them. Every nest in Judge Kane's chicken-house was rummaged that
night, and Mrs. Kane found next day that all the nest-eggs were gone,
and that one of her young hens was missing also.
About dark, little Allen Mackay, a round-bodied, plump-faced, jolly
fellow who lived near the place where the skiffs were landed, and who
had spent the afternoon at the Indian Mound, came to the door of the old
log-house.
"I wanted to say that you fellows have always done the right thing by
me. You've set me acrost oncet or twicet, and you've always been
'clever' to me, and I don't want to see no harm done you. You'd better
look out to-night. They's some chaps from Greenbank down here, and
they're in for a frolic, and somebody's hen-roost'll suffer, I guess;
and they don't like you boys, and they talked about routing you out
to-night."
"Thank you," said Jack.
"Let 'em rout," said Bob.
But the poor little Pet Owl was all in a cold shudder again.
About eleven o'clock, King Pewee's party had picked the last bone of
Mrs. Kane's chicken. It was yet an hour and a half before the moon would
be up, and there was time for some fun. Two boys from the neighborhood,
who had joined the party, agreed to furnish dough-faces for them all.
Nothing more ghastly than masks of dough can well be imagined, and when
the boys all put them on, and had turned their coats wrong-side out,
they were almost afraid of one another.
"Now," said Riley, "Pewee will knock at the door, and when they come
with their lantern or candle, we'll all rush in and howl like Indians."
"How do Indians howl?" asked Ben Berry.
"Oh, any way--like a dog or a wolf, you know. And then they'll be scared
to death, and we'll just pitch their beds, and dishes, and everything
else out of the door, and show them how to clean house."
Riley didn't know that Allen Mackay and Jack Dudley, hidden in the
bushes, heard this speech, nor that Jack, as soon as he had heard the
plan, crept away to tell Bob at the house what the enemy proposed to
do.
As the crowd neared the log-house, Riley prudently fell to the rear, and
pushed Pewee to the front. There was just the faintest whitening of the
sky from the coming moon, but the large apple-trees in front of the
log-house made it very dark, and the dough-face crowd were obliged
almost to feel their way as they came into the shadow of these trees.
Just as Riley was exhorting Pewee to knock at the door, and the whole
party was tittering at the prospect of turning Bob, Jack, and Columbus
out of bed and out of doors, they all stopped short and held their
breaths.
"Good gracious! Julius Caesar! sakes alive!" whispered Riley.
"What--wh--what is that?"
Nobody ran. All stood as though frozen in their places. For out from
behind the corner of the house came slowly a skeleton head. It was
ablaze inside, and the light shone out of all the openings. The thing
had no feet, no hands, and no body. It actually floated through the air,
and now and then joggled and danced a little. It rose and fell, but
still came nearer and nearer to the attacking party of dough-faces, who
for their part could not guess that Bob Holliday had put a lighted
candle into an Indian's skull, and then tied this ghost's lantern to a
wire attached to the end of a fishing-rod, which he operated from behind
the house.
Pewee's party drew close together, and Riley whispered hoarsely:
"The house is ha'nted."
Just then the hideous and fiery death's-head made a circuit, and swung,
grinning, into Riley's face, who could stand no more, but broke into a
full run toward the river. At the same instant Jack tooted a
dinner-horn, Judge Kane's big dog ran barking out of the log-house, and
the enemy were routed like the Midianites before Gideon. Their
consternation was greatly increased at finding their boats gone, for
Allen Mackay had towed them into a little creek out of sight, and hidden
the oars in an elder thicket. Riley and one of the others were so much
afraid of the ghosts that "ha'nted" the old house, that they set out
straightway for Greenbank, on foot. Pewee and the others searched
everywhere for the boats, and at last sat down and waited for daylight.
Just as day was breaking, Bob Holliday came down to the river with a
towel, as though for a morning bath. Very accidentally, of course, he
came upon Pewee and his party, all tired out, sitting on the bank in
hope that day might throw some light on the fate of their boats.
"Hello, Pewee! You here? What's the matter?" said Bob, with feigned
surprise.
"Some thief took our skiffs. We've been looking for them all night, and
can't find them."
"That's curious," said Bob, sitting down and leaning his head on his
hand. "Where did you get supper last night?"
"Oh! we brought some with us."
"Look here, Pewee, I'll bet I can find your boats."
"How?"
"You give me money enough among you to pay for the eggs and the chicken
you had for supper, and I'll find out who hid your boats and where the
oars are, and it'll all be square."
Pewee was now sure that the boat had been taken as indemnity for the
chicken and the eggs. He made every one of the party contribute
something until he had collected what Bob thought sufficient to pay for
the stolen things, and Bob took it and went up and found Judge Kane,
who had just risen, and left the money with him. Then he made a circuit
to Allen Mackay's, waked him up, and got the oars, which they put into
the boats; and pushing these out of their hiding-place, they rowed them
into the river, delivering them to Pewee and company, who took them
gratefully. Jack and Columbus had now made their appearance, and as
Pewee got into his boat, he thought to repay Bob's kindness with a
little advice.
"I say, if I was you fellers, you know, I wouldn't stay in that old
cabin a single night."
"Why?" asked Jack.
"Because," said Pewee, "I've heerd tell that it is ha'nted."
"Ghosts aren't anything when you get used to them," said Jack. "We don't
mind them at all."
"Don't you?" said Pewee, who was now rowing against the current.
"No," said Bob, "nor dough-faces, neither."