won't, and I'll have it on my hands if I don't look out."
"We can't promise," spoke Mollie. "Maybe the boys—Grace's brother and his chums—will undertake it, Mr. Lagg. If they don't, when we come back from our tour, we'll consider it once more."
"Well, I'll hold you to that!" he declared. "This is getting serious with me."
"Have the doctors made any other move?" asked Betty.
"No, not yet. They asked me if I could guarantee that there would be no queer disturbances, and of course I couldn't so they said they'd have to wait. But they're dickering for another place, and may take it. I wish there was no such things as ghosts."
"There aren't!" declared Mollie, decidedly.
"Then how do you account for what happened in the old mansion?" asked Mr. Lagg.
"Imagination," said Betty.
The storekeeper shook his head.
"A fellow like Pete Skillinger, or some of the fishermen around here, might imagine," he admitted, "but not those scientific doctors. They certainly saw, and heard, something they couldn't explain. They sure did!"
"Did you make any inquiries to be sure they
