see reason, Miss West, I will find out the truth of the matter."

Susan departed for Rainbow Valley, valiantly grasping a pitchfork
which she found leaning against the back fence where the doctor
had been working in his little hay-field. A pitchfork might not
be of much use against "ha'nts," but it was a comforting sort of
weapon. There was nothing to be seen in Rainbow Valley when
Susan reached it. No white visitants appeared to be lurking in
the shadowy, tangled old Bailey garden. Susan marched boldly
through it and beyond it, and rapped with her pitchfork on the
door of the little cottage on the other side, where Mrs. Stimson
lived with her two daughters.

Back at Ingleside Rosemary had succeeded in calming the children.
They still sobbed a little from shock, but they were beginning to
feel a lurking and salutary suspicion that they had made dreadful
geese of themselves. This suspicion became a certainty when
Susan finally returned.

"I have found out what your ghost was," she said, with a grim
smile, sitting down on a rocker and fanning herself. "Old Mrs.
Stimson has had a pair of factory cotton sheets bleaching in the
Bailey garden for a week. She spread them on the dyke under the
tamarack tree because the grass was clean and short there. This
evening she went out to take them in. She had her knitting in
her hands so she hung the sheets over her shoulders by way of
carrying them. And then she must have dropped one of her needles
and find it she could not and has not yet. But she went down on
her knees and crept about to hunt for it, and she was at that
when she heard awful yells down in the valley and saw the three