It stormed the night you got here, and
when Becky Timpson had her warnin', and last night when Sol Cobb got
his. Ho! ho! ho! Patrick Henry's the ghost. Well, he's a healthy old
spirit."
Emily laughed until the tears came into her eyes.
"The pig!" she cried. "Oh, Aunt Thankful! You and I were frightened
almost to death last night--and of that creature there. Oh, dear me!"
Thankful laughed, too, but she was not fully convinced.
"Maybe 'twas the pig that snored," she admitted. "And of course whatever
we heard came up that pipe hole. But there was no pig there on that
first night; I didn't buy the pig until long afterwards. And, besides,
what I heard THAT night talked; it said, 'Oh, Lord!' Patrick Henry may
be a smart pig, but he can't talk."
This was something of a staggerer, but the captain was still certain he
was on the right track.
"Then somethin' else was there," he declared. "Somebody was down under
the house here, that's sartin. Who could it have been? Never mind; I'll
find out. We'll clear up the whole of this ghost business, now we've got
started. Maybe we can find some hint in there now. John, go up and fetch
a lantern, there's a good fellow, and we'll have a look."
John brought the lantern and by its light the two men explored the
recesses of Patrick Henry's bed chamber. When they emerged, covered with
dust and cobwebs, the captain held something in his hand.
"I don't know what 'tis," he said. "Maybe nothin' of any account, but
'twas trod down in the corner close to the wall.
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