“The strange part of it was we had to pass a haunted house.”

“Haunted house!” repeated Joe, all eager for the sensational part of Tavia’s recital.

“So the man declared.  At least, I think he declared, or tried very hard to do so.  You see, I could scarcely tell when he was guessing, declaring or swearing—­”

“What a time you must have had,” remarked Mrs. White, with some show of anxiety.

“Well, I suppose I am exaggerating,” said Tavia apologetically, “but I am so accustomed to tell things as big as I can make them.  Brother Johnnie won’t listen to any tame stories.”

“But the haunted house?” questioned Joe.

“We are almost there,” said Tavia as the dinner things were cleared away.  “Did you ever see an old castle off toward Ferndale?”

“The Mayberry mansion?” suggested Ned.

“Perhaps,” replied Tavia.  “It is set in a deep woods or some sort of jungle.”

“Why, that’s Tanglewood Park,” declared Nat.  “How in the world did you get over that way?”

“Took a short cut through a lane,” replied Tavia, “and when we got right in the thick of it the old man meekly pointed out the haunted house.”

“Did you see the ’haunt’?” asked Dorothy jokingly.

“Saw what my friend declared was the haunt,” Tavia replied, “A light running all over the place as if it might have been tied to a cat’s tail.”

“A light in the house?” asked Ned and Nat in one breath.

“Certainly.  Not on the roof, but behind the big old stone walls.  I could see the place was made of stone, although it was almost dark.”

“Why, that place has been deserted for years,” declared Nat.

“Then the deserter has returned,” answered Tavia, “and the old man told me folks around there are just scared to death to be out after dark.”

“Folks around there?  Why, there isn’t a house within half a mile of the park,” Ned corrected.

“But don’t they ever go to sleep in trains and have to take short cuts through the lane?” Tavia asked.  “They don’t exactly have to live in the park to have occasion to go past it now and then.”

The boys laughed at Tavia’s defense, but Joe and Roger were impatient to hear all about the ghost, and they begged Tavia to go on with her story.

“What did the light do?” asked Roger, edging up so close to Tavia that his curly head brushed her elbow.

“Why, Roger, dear,” said Dorothy kindly, “you must not believe in such nonsense.  There are no such things as ghosts.”

“But Tavia saw it,” he insisted.

“No, she only saw a light,” corrected his sister.  “There are lots of reasons for having lights, even in empty houses.  Some one might have gone in there for the night—­”

“Or the rats might be giving a pink tea,” joined in Nat with a sly wink at Joe.

“Or some one might be trying to make gas,” Joe fired back, “and perhaps they were interrupted by the sound of wheels.”