“No happier than we are,” said Dick as he looked meaningly at Dora.

“You are right, Dick,” she answered very earnestly.

CHAPTER XXIV

AT THE HAUNTED HOUSE

“Boys, I’ve got a proposition to make,” said Dick, one Friday afternoon, as he and his brothers, with Songbird and Stanley, were strolling along the river bank.

“All right.  We’ll accept it for twenty-five cents on the dollar,” returned Tom gaily.

“What is it, Dick?” asked Songbird.

“Do you remember the haunted house at Rushville, the place Mr. Sanderson called the Jamison home?” asked Dick of his brothers.

“Sure!” returned Sam and Tom promptly.

“Well, I propose we visit that house to-morrow and investigate the ghosts—­if there are any.”

“Just the thing!” cried Sam.

“I’ve heard of that place,” said Stanley.  “I am willing to go if the rest are.”

“If I go as far as Rushville I might as well go on to the Sanderson home,” said Songbird, who could not get Minnie out of his mind.

“Well, we’ll leave you off—­after we have interviewed the ghosts,” answered Dick with a laugh.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” asked Stanley with a faint smile.

“No.  Do you?”

“Hardly, although I have heard some queer stories.  My aunt used to think she had seen ghosts.”

“She was mistaken,” said Tom.  “There are no real ghosts.”

“Say, Tom, how could a ghost be real and still be a ghost?” asked Songbird and this question brought forth a general laugh.

The boys sat down on a bench in the warm sunshine to discuss the proposed visit to the deserted Jamison place, and it was arranged that they should drive to the spot in a two-seated carriage.  Then, while the Rovers and Stanley investigated to their hearts’ content, Songbird was to drive on to the Sanderson home for a brief visit.

“But, mind, you are not to stay too long,” said Dick.  “An hour is the limit.”

“I’ll make it an hour by the watch,” answered the would-be poet.  “Say, I just thought of something,” he went on, and murmured softly: 

  “To-morrow, ere the hour is late,
  We shall go forth to investigate. 
      The Jamison ghost
      Shall be our host;
  We trust we’ll meet a kindly fate!”

“That’s as cheerful as a funeral dirge!” cried Tom.

“We don’t want to meet any kind of a fate,” added Sam.  “We want to have some fun.”

While the boys were discussing the proposed trip to Rushville they did not notice that Larkspur was close at hand, taking in much that was said.  Presently Larkspur sauntered off and hunted up Jerry Koswell.

“The Rovers are going off to-morrow,” he said.  “Where do you suppose they are going?”

“I am not good at guessing riddles,” answered Koswell rather sourly.  He hated to hear the Rover name mentioned, since it made him think of his defeat at Tom’s hands.