“Oh, no; I remember very well.  It was Pumfret, and I used to think she would have plenty to ‘fret’ about when Nick Mayberry went home, for he could keep a whole regiment busy while in service.”

“Then he has turned the castle into a barracks,” declared Joe.  “I’ll wager that solves the mystery.  He has got a lot of old ‘vets’ walled up in there, and they—­”

“Go on parade every night about time for reveille.  Now we have it.  And I propose we take a trip out there some evening at about the same hour,” put in Nat.

“Leave the girls at home,” suggested Ned, with an arch glance at Dorothy.

“Indeed, I’m not the least bit afraid,” declared his cousin.  “I did hear something like a scream, and I don’t believe in ghosts.  Therefore I should very much like to have a chance to investigate the matter.”

“Now, see here, children,” put in Mrs. White, “I want you all to retire early.  There are so many little things to do for the holidays, and I will need a lot of help to-morrow.”

This order broke up the evening party, and as the girls were quite tired after the run to the woods and its consequent incidents, they made no protest.

There was, however, some whispering between the boys before they left the room.  Then Nat stayed behind and detained the girls—­he had something very important to consult them about.  Ned and the younger boys went directly upstairs.

A half hour might have passed, during which time Nat seemed at his wits’ end in his efforts to keep the girls interested.  Finally Dorothy jumped up and declared she was going upstairs.  Tavia followed, but Nat managed to reach the second landing in advance of them by going up the servants’ stairs.

He called good-night from the hall that led to his own room, and soon all was quiet, and the ghost of Mayberry Hall evidently forgotten.

Between the two alcove rooms, occupied by Dorothy and Tavia, was a long wardrobe closet.  Into this both girls put such belongings as might not be used daily—­a sort of “dress-up” clothes’ closet.  It was in this closet that street apparel was placed, so that on the night of the auto ride both Dorothy and Tavia had something to hang on the padded hooks there.

“I’m going to town in the morning,” said Dorothy to her chum as she went to the hall closet.  “I simply could not do any shopping the other day.  Do you want to come, Tavia?”

“I don’t think so,” replied Tavia; and as she spoke a shadow crossed her face.  “I simply hate to shop.”

“Oh, very well,” said Dorothy somewhat stiffly.  “I only thought you might have some more things to buy.”

“I’m—­I’m—­broke,” declared Tavia frankly.  “I always am at this time of the holiday season,” and she seemed anxious to restore a more genial atmosphere.

A moment later she followed Dorothy out to the hall closet.  Dorothy had stepped back to make room for her chum.  Tavia pushed some garments rather roughly aside to make a place for the heavy cloak, thrusting her arm well into the depths of the closet.  No sooner had she done so than she jumped back, uttering a scream of fright.