Lights began to appear all over the house. Aunt Martha in a weird
makeup came out of her room screaming, "What is it? What is it?"
followed by Uncle Peter and his trusty bow and arrow.

I began to pray. It was all over. A rosewood casket for Bunch.
Me for the Morgue.

Just as I was ready to rush down to investigate, Tacks came
bounding up the stairs, two steps at a time, clad only in his
nightie.

_Up the stairs_, mind you! The nerve of that kid!

"Gi'me the prize, sister!" he yelled; "I caught the ghost! I
caught him!"

"What do you mean?" I said, shaking him.

Tacks grinned from ear to ear. "You know they's a trap door in the
hall so's to get down in the cellar and it ain't finished yet, so
this evening I took the door up and laid heavy paper on it so's if
the ghost walked on it he'd go through and he did, and I get the
prize, don't I, sister?"

I rushed down to the scene of the explosion, followed by my excited
household.

Leaning over the yawning cellar trap door I yelled, "Who's down
there?"