“A—­a musical ghost?” giggled Laura hysterically, but Billie pinched her into silence.

“Keep still,” she cried.  “There it is again!”

The girls listened to the eeriest, weirdest music they had ever heard, and Violet slipped shivering under the covers and hid her face with the sheet.

“C-come out of that,” cried Billie, pulling at the sheet.  “What g-good do you suppose it’s going to do to put the sheet over your head?  Come on, I’m going to investigate.”

With sudden determination she slipped out of bed and stood up.

“Billie,” gasped Laura, “you’re never going to go down there?”

“I’m going to call the boys,” said Billie, who, despite all her determination, could hardly stand up her knees trembled so.  “We’ll all go and rout that old ghost.  He’s got to,” she added with a hysterical giggle that matched Laura’s, “get off my piano!”

Fearfully the girls watched her start into Mrs. Gilligan’s room.  Then Laura pushed down the covers and got to her feet.

“If Billie isn’t afraid,” she said stoutly, “I don’t see why I should be.  Are you coming, Vi?”

“I s-suppose so,” said poor Violet, more afraid of being left alone than of facing the ghost in company with the others.  “If you’re going I—­I’ve got to.”

So it was that Mrs. Gilligan was startled to find three ghostly, scared figures standing by her bed calling nervously to her to “please wake up.”

“For goodness’ sake, what’s the matter?” she said, rubbing her eyes and staring at them sleepily.  “Have you heard your ghostly motor again?”

“Oh, much worse!” cried Violet.

“We heard a ghost playing a piano!” said Laura.

“Listen,” commanded Billie.  “There it goes again.  Oh, Mrs. Gilligan, I’m f-frightened.”

Mrs. Gilligan listened, and even she, matter-of-fact, humorous Irishwoman that she was, felt that same strange tendency on the part of her hair to stand up straight in the air.

“Well, here’s the time for my rolling pin,” she said, jumping out of bed and wrapping a kimono hastily about her.  “We’ll call the boys and see what that piano thinks it’s doing anyway.”

So they called the boys.  The three lads were on tiptoe with excitement at the thought of an actual encounter with a ghost.

“And a musical ghost, at that,” crowed Ferd, as they started down the stairs with the girls following cautiously and holding their candles over their heads.

“Say, don’t make so much noise,” cried Chet in a stage whisper.  “You’ll frighten his ghostship away.  I wouldn’t miss seeing a real ghost for anything you could offer me.”

“In here, fellows, here’s the piano,” Ferd directed, and, their hearts in their mouths, the girls watched them go into the dark room.

“Ouch! hang that chair,” they heard Ferd cry out.  “Come on with those lights, girls.  I’m ruining all the furniture.”