He led the way and half a dozen followed, including Wilberforce Chaster, who kept well to the rear.  Just as the party reached the door of the apartment Joe and the bell boy came up.

Without hesitation Andrew Mallison threw open the door of the room and looked inside.  Of course he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

“Where is your ghost?” he demanded.  “I see nothing of it.”

“Don’t—­don’t you see—­er—­a skeleton?” demanded the man who had been victimized.

“I do not.”

Trembling in every limb Wilberforce Chaster came forward and peered into the room.

“Well?” demanded the hotel proprietor, after a pause.

“I—­I certainly saw them.”

“Then where are they now?”

“I—­I don’t know.”

By this time others were crowding into the apartment.  All gazed around, and into the clothes closet, but found nothing unusual.

“You must be the victim of some hallucination, sir,” said the hotel proprietor, severely.

He hated to have anything occur which might give his establishment a bad reputation.

“No, sir, I saw the things with my own eyes.”

The matter was talked over for several minutes longer and then the hired help was ordered away.

“I shall not stay in this room,” insisted Wilberforce Chaster.

“You need not remain in the hotel,” answered Andrew Mallison, quickly.  “You can leave at once.  You have alarmed the whole establishment needlessly.”

Some warm words followed, and the upshot of the matter was that the fussy old boarder had to pack his things and seek another hotel that very night.

“I am glad to get rid of him,” said the hotel proprietor, after Wilberforce Chaster had departed.  “He was making trouble all the time.”

“We fixed him, didn’t we?” said the bell boy to Joe.

“I hope it teaches him a lesson to be more considerate in the future,” answered our hero.

Several days passed and Joe had quite a few parties to take out on the lake.  The season was now drawing to a close, and our hero began to wonder what he had best do when boating was over.

“I wonder if I couldn’t strike something pretty good in Philadelphia?” he asked himself.  The idea of going to one of the big cities appealed to him strongly.

One afternoon, on coming in from a trip across the lake, Joe found Andrew Mallison in conversation with Mr. Maurice Vane, who had arrived at the hotel scarcely an hour before.  The city man was evidently both excited and disappointed.

“Here is the boy now,” said the hotel proprietor, and called Joe up.

“Well, young man, I guess you have hit the truth,” were Maurice Vane’s first words.

“About those other fellows?” asked our hero, quickly.

“That’s it.”

“Did they swindle you?”

“They did.”

“By selling you some worthless mining stocks?”