192
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT RAINBOW LAKE
It was late, and after a jolly session—a marshmallow roast, to be exact—they had all retired. No one remained awake now, for the girls had become used to their surroundings, and the boys—Allen included, for he had come up—were sound sleepers.
There was a crash of underbrush, a series of snorts—no other word describes them—and the screaming girls, hastening to their tent flaps, cried:
"The ghost! The ghost!"
"Get after it, fellows!" called Will, as he recognized his sister's voice. "We'll lay this chap—whoever he is!"
There was a vision of something white, again that rattling of chains, and a plunge into the lake. Then all was still.
