“I must say I don’t like this,” said Shep, after they had questioned the old hermit to ascertain that his story was a straight one.  “There seems to be something supernatural about it; don’t you think so?”

“Perhaps it can be explained,” answered Snap, slowly.

“We promised ourselves not to be afraid of any ghost,” put in little Giant.  “I, for one, don’t believe in turning back until we have seen and heard these things for ourselves.”

“I’d like to have my shotgun handy when that yellow ghost shows itself,” said Whopper.  “I’d soon find out whether it was real or not.”

“I don’t think your shotgun would do you any good,” answered Peter Peterson, with deep conviction.  “You can’t shoot a spirit.”

“Well, if I aimed right at it and it wasn’t touched, I’d know it was a ghost for sure.”

“That’s true, but I reckon when you came to fire on that ghost your hand would be so shaky that you couldn’t hit the side of a barn,” answered the old hermit.  “After I saw that spirit I felt like I had a chill.  I am not going to stay up here another night—–­it’s bad enough to be here in the daytime.”

The old hermit remained with the boys two hours, and then embarked in his canoe and was soon out of sight down the stream leading to Firefly Lake.  The young hunters watched him out of sight with some regret.  He had told them he did not think anybody was now on the lake but themselves.

“Well, if we really are here alone we ought not to be troubled by anybody,” was Shep’s comment.  “Still, it does seem tremendously lonely.”

“Just listen to the stillness,” remarked Whopper.  “You can cut it out in chunks!”

“No use of listening—–­I can feel it,” answered Giant.  “But what’s the use of acting like that?”

“You’ll give us all the blues.  Let’s be cheerful,” and he began to whistle a merry tune, and one after another the others joined in.  Then they started to fix up the tent for the night and cut a quantity of wood for the fire, and this put them in better spirits.  For supper they had some fine fish, baking them to a turn on some hot stones, in a fashion Jed Sanborn had taught them.  They also had hot biscuits—–­the first since leaving home.

“I think somebody ought to remain on guard after this,” said Shep, when it came time to retire.

“We don’t know what to expect in such a place as this.  There are the ghosts, and the snakes, and unknown wild beasts, and other things we know nothing of.”

“I am willing,” answered Snap.  “We can divide the night into watches of two hours and a half each, and draw sticks for turns,” and so it was arranged.

It must be confessed that the boys were a trifle timid that night, and those that tried to sleep had hard work to close their eyes.  But no alarm came, and when the sun came up all felt relieved.

“We may stay up here for weeks and never see or hear of that ghost,” said Snap.  “I don’t believe it shows itself very often.”