“Nonsense, Phrosy, what a ridiculous thing to say.”

Miss Alling’s tone was sharp as she pushed past the colored woman into the house.

“But, Miss Emma, I done tell yo’ Ah knows what Ah’m talkin’ about,” persisted Phrosy. “’Taint no ’magination. Ah done heered ’em screechin’.”

“Well, suppose you light a lamp or two,” Miss Alling suggested, adding dryly: “Ghosts don’t like light, you know. Probably they will wait till we go to bed to bother us.”

Phrosy groaned and the girls giggled nervously.

“Den I don’t nebber go to bed no mo’e, Miss Emma,” said the colored woman, while she went about lighting the rooms to a mellow cheerfulness.

“You could take a lamp to bed with you, Phrosy,” suggested Amy.

“Wouldn’t take dose ghosts more’n one second to put out dat light, li’l missy. An’ den where’d Ah be?” she said darkly.

“What is this we hear about ghosts?” asked a laughing, masculine voice from the doorway, and the girls turned gleefully to greet the boys.

“Come on in, do,” cried Jessie. “There is one attraction here that we didn’t bargain on. Phrosy says there are ghosts in the swamp.”

Miss Alling, who had been putting lamps in the other rooms, returned at that moment and confronted the black woman.

“Still talking ridiculous nonsense, are you, Phrosy?” she said severely. “Well, let me remind you that ghosts are not good to eat, and we are all very hungry after a long ride. I hope you followed my instructions and laid in a good stock of eatables.”

“I done follow yo’ instructions, Miss Emma,” grumbled the black woman, as she moved toward the small lean-to that served for a kitchen. “I mos’ always tries to do my duty, but Ah’s goin’ away f’om here fust thing in de mo’nin’ sho’ as mah name am Euphrosyne Black. Ah kin stand mos’ anything, but Ah caint stand fo’ ghosts.”

“Phrosy, what is that you say?” cried Miss Alling, in a tone that brought the big black woman up short. “You don’t mean to tell me you actually intend to leave here in the morning?”

“Yas’m, Ah sho’ does,” said Phrosy, firmly. “Ah stayed here las’ night an’ Ah gives you mah word, Miss Emma, Ah nebber done close mah eyes.”

“Come here to me, Euphrosyne Black,” commanded Miss Alling, in a tone that proved her determined to get at the root of this nonsense. “What was it you heard last night, or thought you heard?”

“Ah done hear it wiv mah own ears, Miss Emma,” said Phrosy, her voice quivering with suppressed emotion and her eyes rolling till there was scarcely anything visible but the white eyeball. “A screechin’ an’ a moanin’ an’ a wailin’ like all de ghosts in de world was ober by dat swamp. It done make mah hair stand clear on end, Miss Emma. Ah’m tellin’ you de truf.”

“What did you do then?” asked Jessie.

“I bet I can tell you what she did,” interrupted Burd, with a grin. “I bet she just took down one of these guns I see hanging on the walls and went gunning for the ghosts.”

“Ah would need mo’ dan a gun to kill a ghost, yassuh,” said Phrosy, earnestly, and once more Miss Alling broke in impatiently.

“I suppose what you actually did was to put your head under the covers and shiver for the rest of the night,” she said, and Phrosy nodded her head and rolled her eyes in admiration of this remarkable logic.

“Yas’m, dat’s jest what Ah did. But Ah don’t expects to do it no mo’e,” she added, with a return to stubbornness. “Sho as de mo’nin’ comes, Ah done take de fust boat what leaves dis place.”

“Phrosy, I do hope you won’t be so foolish and unkind,” said Miss Alling, resorting to argument and cajolery. “You know there are no such things as ghosts. And have you stopped to think how I could get along without you?”

“Ah’s sho sorry, Miss Emma, but dis place ain’t gwine see me no mo’e after de mo’nin’. If dat ghost stays, Ah gits.”

Regretful, but obviously determined, Phrosy stalked off into the kitchen, having enjoyed the advantage of the last word.

The young folks exchanged amused glances, then looked at Aunt Emma. Her face was a study of conflicting emotions, but the most dominant among them seemed to be an intense irritation.

“That is what you have to suffer from being partial to black servants,” she said, in a voice lowered so that it might not reach the ears of Euphrosyne Black. “They are so superstitious they carry their ghosts along with them. I don’t know how I will ever manage if Phrosy leaves me.

“Where is this swamp............