Our Next-Door Neighbors Part 11

"I'm on," I declared. "I don't dread ghosts near as much as I do some living folks I know."

"Right you air," chuckled the old man. "If you say so we'll go right off now jest as sure as shootin'. We may be ghosts ourselves tomorrow."

I a.s.sured him I was quite ready to encounter the ghost, so he jubilantly turned the machine from the road into a gra.s.s-grown lane.

We zigzagged for some distance and then got out and went on foot through a grove. The moon and the stars were half veiled by some light, misty clouds, so that the little house didn't show up very clearly, but as we came to the top of the hill, we saw something that shook even my well-behaved nerves.

From a window in the roof-room extended a white arm and hand, with index finger pointing threateningly and directly toward us.

My farmer friend turned quickly and fled toward the grove. I followed fleetly. "What's your rush?" I asked, when I had overtaken him.

"I just happened to remember," he explained gaspingly, "that there's a pesky autoo thief in these 'ere parts. Bukins had his stole jest last night."

The lights on his machine must have rea.s.sured him as to its safety when we emerged from the woods into the open, but he didn't lessen his speed. We got in the "autoo" and soon said good-by to the lane. At one time I believed it was good-by to everything, but at last we gained the highway, right side up.

"Well!" I said, when we were running normally again on terra firma, "that was some little old ghost,--beckoned to us to come right in, too!"

"You seen it then!" he exclaimed excitedly. "I'm mighty glad I had an eyewitness. Folks wouldn't believe me."

"They probably won't believe me, either," I a.s.sured him. "I am a lawyer."

"You don't tell me! Well, it did jest give me a start for a minute.

I'd like to hev gone in and seen it nigh to, if I hadn't happened to think of this 'ere autoo. You see I ain't got it all paid for yet. I'm jest clean beat. You don't mind my takin' a leetle pull at a stone fence, do you?"

"I guess not," I a.s.sented somewhat dubiously, however. "That was a rail fence we took a pull at back in the lane, wasn't it? Of course, if we shouldn't happen to clear the stone fence as well as we did the rail fence, it might be more disastrous."

"Oh, land!" he said with a cackling laugh, "I ain't meanin' that kind of a fence. I mean the kind you--Say! You ain't one of them teetotalers, be you?"

"Only in theory," I replied, "but this stone fence drink is a new one on me. What's it like?"

He stopped the "autoo" and pulled a bottle from an inner pocket.

"You kin taste it better than I kin tell it," he declared. "Take a pull--a condumned good one."

I rarely imbibed, confining my indulgences to the demands of necessity, but I thought that the flight of Ptolemy, the ghostly encounter, and my Mazeppa--wild ride all combined to const.i.tute an occasion adequate to call for a bracer in the shape of a stone fence, or anything he might produce.

I took what I considered a "condumned good one" from the bottle and it nearly strangled me, but I followed the aged stranger's advice to take another to "cure the chokes" caused by the first one. On general principles I took a third and then reluctantly returned him the bottle.

"Here's over the moon," he jovially exclaimed as he proceeded to make my attempt at a "condumned good one" appear most n.i.g.g.ardly.

"May I ask," I inquired when my feeling of nerve-tense strain had vanished, and I felt as if I were treading thin air, "just what is in a stone fence?"

"Well, what do you think?" he asked slyly.

"I think the very devil is in it," I replied.

"Well, mebby," he admitted. "It's two-thirds hard cider and one-third whisky. It's a healthy, hearting drink and yet it has a leetle come back to it--a sort o' kick, you know. But this is where I live,"

pointing to a farmhouse well back from the road, "but I am goin' to run you on to your tavern though."

The hotel was dark, save for a light in my room. I invited him in, but he was anxious to "git hum and tell the folks", so I gave him some cigars and went in to "tell my folks."

I found them in the room waiting for me. That is, Beth was in the room, sitting by the table and pretending to read. Silvia and Rob were out in the little balcony. They came inside as soon as they heard my voice.

"Oh, was he there?" asked Silvia anxiously.

"Yes," I replied. "He answered the telephone himself."

I was feeling quite exhilarated by this time. My wife looked a perfect vision to me. Beth, I thought, was some sister, and Rob the best fellow in the world. Even the Polydores at long range, and under the ameliorating influence of stone fences, seemed like fine little fellows--rather active and strenuous, to be sure, but only as all wholesome children should be.

Silvia was relieved at the announcement of Ptolemy's safety, but very much disappointed that I did not succeed in interviewing Huldah and finding out something about domestic affairs.

I a.s.sured her that everything was "hunky doory" at home, praised the telephone service, my expedition to town, and painted my return ride with "the honest farmer" in glowing terms. I was suddenly halted in my eulogy by becoming aware of an amazed expression on my wife's countenance, a most suspicious glance in Beth's wide-open eyes, and a very knowing wink from Rob.

"Lucien," said Silvia severely, "I believe you've been drinking. I certainly smell spirits."

"Maybe you do," I replied jocosely. "I certainly saw spirits. I went to the haunted house on my way back."

"I thought Windy Creek was a dry town," remarked Rob innocently.

"It is," I a.s.sured him, "but I rode home with an old man--a farmer."

"Does he run a blind pig?" asked Rob.

"It was more like a pig in a poke," I replied.

"Lucien," exclaimed Silvia reproachfully, "you told me two years ago, after that banquet to the Bar, that you were never going to touch wine or whisky again. What did that horrid old man give you?"

"A stone fence. That's what he said it was anyway."

"It's a new one on me," commented Rob.

"There was a new toast went with it. He drank to 'over the moon.'"

"You must have gone there all right and taken all the s.h.i.+ne from the moon-man," said Rob.

"Lucien," asked Beth, "did you really go to that haunted house?"

Again I was moved to eloquence, and I told of the farmer's yearning, the fulfillment, the beckoning hand and the beating of the retreat at length.

"Are you sure," asked Rob, "that you didn't take that stone fence before you visited the haunted house?"

"I know," I replied, loftily, "that a lawyer's word is worthless, but seeing is believing. We will all visit the haunted house tomorrow night and I'll make good on ghosts."

This plan was unanimously approved, and then Silvia suggested that she thought I had better go to bed. I had no particular objection to doing so.

"Lucien," she said solemnly, when we were alone, "I want you to promise me something. I want you to give me your word that you will never take another stone wall."

I did this most readily.