sometimes her eyes turn green."

"Pouf!" scoffed Everett. "My father says there aren't any such things as
ghosts. I wouldn't be a fraidy cat, Ann."

"I'm not a fraidy cat," pouted the girl. "I always go upstairs alone,
don't I, Horace?"

Another answer in the affirmative, and Horace proceeded to roll the
train back over the carpet.

"If you had any mother," said Everett, "she'd tell you there weren't any
ghosts. My mother tells me that."

"I haven't any mother," sighed the little girl, listlessly folding her
hands in her lap.

"Nor any father, either," supplemented Horace, with seemingly no thought
of the magnitude of his statement. "I don't believe in ghosts, anyhow!"

He glanced up as he spoke, and the train fell with a bang to the floor.
Everett Brimbecomb dropped the toy he held in his hand, and Ann bounded
from her chair. A white face with wide eyes, staring through scraggly
gray hair, appeared at the window. For only an instant it pressed
against the pane, then vanished as if it had never been.

"It was a woman," gasped Horace, "or was it a--"

"It wasn't a ghost," interrupted Everett stoutly. "I dare follow it out
there. Look at me!"