"All right," agreed Russ, although he was less sensitive about being
laughed at than his sister.

But this habit the young Armatages had of laughing at what the little
Bunkers did caused all the trouble on this night. And it was a night
that all of the children and most of the grown folks, too, would be
likely to remember.

The Armatage children knew a great deal more about the plantation and
the country surrounding it than the Bunkers did. That was only natural.
Philly or Alice or Frane, Junior, would not have started off secretly,
as Russ and Rose Bunker did, after nine o'clock at night to go down to
the place where old Mammy June's cabin had been burned.

To tell the truth, the Armatage children had associated so much with the
colored folks about the plantation that they were inclined to believe
that there might be such things as "ha'nts." The little Bunkers had
heard of "ghosts"; but they looked on such things as being like
fairies--something to half-believe in, and shiver about, all the time
knowing that they were not real.

So Russ and Rose had no actual fear of haunts when they started down the
cart-path toward the wide brook where Russ had had his first adventure
catching the big fish.

The colored folks were all at home in their quarters; and although it
was a starlight night they were having no celebration. Everything about
the plantation seemed particularly quiet. And no sounds at first came to
the ears of the brother and sister from the forest.