“A ghost!” cried the girl.  “A ghost!  Over there in the corner!”

Frances Martin gave a cry, and Betty and Bobby went white.  Even Gilbert afterward confessed that his scalp prickled when a figure stepped forward from a narrow closet against the wall.

“Ugh!  Howdy!” he grunted, and they saw that he was a very old and very dirty Indian.

“Rain,” he said slowly, pointing to the door.  “Stop soon now.  Go get supper.”

He shuffled over the doorsill and at the edge he turned.

“Howdy!” he said, apparently with some vague idea of farewell.  “Much rain!”

Petrified, they watched him hobble away through the woods.

CHAPTER XVIII

LIBBIE’S SECRET

Gilbert Lane was the first to recover his voice.

“Well, what do you know about that!” he ejaculated.  “The old bird was here all the time.”

“Are—­are—­are there any more of them?” stammered Louise.

“No, that old fellow is the only Indian for miles around,” said Gilbert carelessly.  “He was left behind, the fellows at school say, when that band stole the Macklin treasure.  They had a grudge against him, it seems, and they tripped him and left him with a broken leg.  He worked around on different farms for years and now does a day’s work often enough to keep him in food.  Queer old dick, I guess.”

“What makes you girls look so funny?” demanded Sydney.  “You’re not afraid now, are you?  That Indian won’t come back—­he was more afraid of us than we were of him.  I figure out he was asleep when we came in and the noise woke him up.  What are you smiling about?”

“My grandmother is Mrs. Marcia Macklin,” explained Norma.  “And you see it was her gold and silver and jewels the Indians stole.  I wonder what he would have said if we had told him?”

“Gee, is that so?” asked Sydney, ignoring the latter half of Norma’s sentence.  “And is all that stuff down in the chasm yet?”

“As far as we know, it is,” said Norma.  “And likely to remain there,” she added, with a sigh.

Bob and the boys returned in less than half an hour, to announce that they had found the right road and were prepared to pilot the girls expeditiously homeward.  Libbie’s cheeks were unnaturally flushed and she looked miserable, but she refused to let Bob and Tommy carry her by forming a “chair” with their hands.

“I’m all right,” she insisted hoarsely.  “I only want to get home.”

Knowing the way positively saved much fumbling and time, and soon the familiar buildings of Shadyside loomed up before them.  The boys had a long tramp still before them, and if they were not to be late for supper, must walk briskly.  They continued on their way, while the girls ran up the steps of the dormitory building.

“There’s no use talking, Libbie, you’ve got to see the infirmary nurse,” said Bobby resolutely.  “I promised your mother to look after you, and if you’re going to be sick you’ll at least have the proper care.  Wait till we get into some dry things, and I’ll take you.”