“All right, go ahead then,” she said while Violet leaned forward eagerly.  “What did your aunt leave you?”

“Straight from the shoulder,” Billie murmured.  Then as Laura made another threatening gesture toward her, added hurriedly:  “All right.  Don’t shoot and I’ll tell you everything.  Only it will take time.”

Billie paused, to allow the proper amount of emphasis, then said, in a deep whisper: 

“She left me a—­haunted house!”

CHAPTER X

OLD FURNITURE

Laura screamed and Violet jumped clear out of her seat.

They stared at Billie, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

“Wh-what did you say?” asked Laura when she could get her breath.

“I said,” said Billie, speaking very distinctly and enjoying the sensation she had caused, “that Aunt Beatrice left me a haunted house.”

“Th-then I wasn’t dreaming,” stammered Violet, while Laura just continued to stare.  “Is th-that all, Billie?”

“Isn’t that enough?” asked Billie, just as her father had done a few hours before.

“It’s either not enough or it is too much,” replied Violet.  “If I had to have the ghosts, I should want some very substantial compensations to make up for such housemates as those airy and playful ladies and gentlemen are said to make.”

“But it is a house,” persisted Billie.  “And you know it isn’t everybody who can own a haunted house.”

“A haunted house!” said Laura, speaking in a hushed tone.  “Is it a real haunted house, Billie, or are you fooling?”

“Well, I don’t know that it is a regular honest-to-goodness one,” admitted Billie reluctantly.  “You see, it is the house Aunt Beatrice used to live in when she was at home, and she left it to me, with everything in it.”

“How perfectly glorious!” cried Laura, clapping her hands with delight.  “Tell us about it, Billie.  What made you say it was haunted?”

Then did Billie tell them all that her mother had told her about her inheritance and, if the truth be told, even added a few details of her own.

However that may have been, the fact remains that when she had finished the girls were as perfectly wild as Chet had been to visit the queer old place and, if need be, even confront its “ghosts!”

“Think!” cried Laura, clasping her hands rapturously.  “Just think of being able to roam all over that romantic old place and pry into corners—­”

“And get your hands dirty,” interrupted Billie drily.

“Why, Billie,” Laura stopped in her transports to regard her friend with wide eyes, “aren’t you simply wild about the place too?”

“Oh, I suppose so,” said Billie, adding as a shadow crossed her face:  “The folks think I’m awful, all ’cept Chet, and I suppose I am—­but I’d give the whole place, tunnels, spooky hallways, ghostly attic, and everything for just a few little hundred dollar bills.”