"Oh, yes," replied Nat. "Old Cummings and his wife live there. It's a
fine old place, too. Pity all the old places are allowed to go to rack and
ruin."

"No Christmas trees around here," declared Ned, wheeling about along the
turn in the drive. "Queer, I would have bet I saw spruce in this grove."

"I'll tell you," exclaimed Nat. "Tanglewood Park. That's the very place
for a choice selection of real old cheroot spruces."

"Yes," groaned Ned, "five miles away."

"I don't think it's very cold," ventured Dorothy.

"But the air is full of snow," announced Ned.

"Well, do we go to Tanglewood Park or back to The Cedars?" asked Ned.

"How long will it take to go to the Park?" questioned Dorothy.

"Oh, we may as well try it," concluded Ned, turning the Fire Bird in the
direction of the open road and starting off.

"Your haunted house, you know, Tavia," said Nat as they whizzed along.
"Now we will, have a chance to make the very intimate acquaintance of a
real, up-to-date ghost."

"Oh, is that the place?" said Tavia in surprise. "Well, I'll just be
tickled to death to pay a visit there. I have never quite made up my mind
whether the light was in the house or--"