it across country had grown up in grass and weeds. Some adventurous
boys who went out there once declared it was a most gruesome place,
with pools of water covered with green scum lying around, and all
sorts of holes looking like the cave Robinson Crusoe found on his
island home to be seen where granite building rocks had been
excavated from the towering cliffs.

It was K. K. who laughed first, actually laughed scornfully, though
Julius took it all so seriously. Thad Stevens followed with a
chuckle, after his peculiar fashion.

"You give me a pain, Julius, you certainly do," ventured K. K.

"To think," added Thad, assuming a lofty air of superior knowledge,
"of a fellow attending Scranton High believing the ridiculous yarns
these uneducated tillers of the soil and their hired help pass
around, about there being some sort of a genuine _ghost_ haunting the
old quarry--why, it's positively silly of you, Julius, and I don't
mind telling you so to your face."

"Oh, hold on there, fellows!" expostulated the other boy; "I didn't
say that I really and truly believed any of those awful stories, did
I? But so many different persons have told me the same thing that,
somehow, I came to think there _might_ be some fire where there was
so much smoke. Of course, it can't be a ghost, but, nevertheless,
there are queer goings-on about that deserted quarry these
nights--three different people, and one of them a steady-going woman
in the bargain, assured me they had glimpsed moving lights there, a
sort of flare that did all sorts of zigzag stunts, like it was
cutting signals in the air."