in great wonder. “’Twasn’t raining.”
“I thought I could—could punch the ghost with it,” faltered Nan.
At this Bert could hold in no longer, and he set up a shout of laughter, which was instantly repressed by Mr. Bobbsey.
“Oh, Nan, I’m sorry I laughed,” said her twin brother, when he could speak. “But the idea of your poking at a ghost with an umbrella!”
“It was more than you tried to do,” said Mr. Bobbsey dryly.
“That is so.” Bert grew red in the face. “Did you see the ghost after that?” he asked to hide his confusion.
“No.”
“Not at all?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“No, mamma. I stayed under the covers for about a minute—just like Bert did—and when I looked the ghost was gone.”
“I will have to investigate this,” said Mr. Bobbsey seriously. “It is strange that neither I nor your mamma has seen the ghost.”
“I ain’t seen it,” said Flossie.
“Don’t want to see it,” piped in Freddie.
Dinah, in the kitchen, had heard Nan’s story and she was almost scared to death.
“Dat am de strangest t’ing,” she said to Sam, when he came for his dinner. “Wot yo’ make of it, hey?”
“Dunno,” said Sam. “Maybe sumbuddy’s gwine to die.”
The matter was talked over by the Bobbsey family several times that day, and Mr. Bobbsey remained awake nearly all of that night, on the watch for the ghost. The following night Mrs. Bobbsey watched, and then Dinah took her turn, followed by Sam, who sat in the upper hall in a rocking chair, armed with a club. But the ghost failed to show itself, and after a week the excitement died down once more.
“Perhaps you were dreaming, Nan,” said Mrs. Bobbsey.
“No, I wasn’t dreaming, mamma, and Bert says he wasn’t dreaming either.”
“It is strange. I cannot understand it at all.”
“Do you believe in ghosts, mamma?”
“No, my dear.”
“But I saw something.”
“Perhaps it was only a reflection. Sometimes the street lamps throw strange shadows on the walls through the windows.”
“It wasn’t a shadow,” said Nan; and there the talk ended, for Mrs. Bobbsey knew not what to say to comfort her daughter.
In some way the news that a ghost had been seen in the Bobbsey house spread throughout the neighborhood, and many came to ask about it. Even the boys and girls talked about it and asked Nan and Bert all manner of questions, the most of which the twins could not answer.
The “ghost talk,” as it was called, gave Danny Rugg a good chance to annoy both Nan and Bert.
“Afraid of a ghost! Afraid of a ghost!” he would cry, whenever he saw them. “Oh, my, but ain’t I afraid of a ghost!”
“I think it is perfectly dreadful,” said Nan one day, on returning from school. Her eyes were red, showing that she had been crying.
“I’ll ‘ghost’ him, if he yells at us again,” said Bert. “I’m not going to stand it, so there!”
“But what will you do, Bert?”
“I’ll fight him, that’s what I’ll do.”
“Oh, Bert, you mustn’t fight.”
“Then he has got to leave you alone—and leave me alone, too.”
“If you fight at school, you’ll be expelled.”
“I don’t care, I’m going to make him mind his own business,” said Bert recklessly.
Danny Rugg was particularly sore because he had not been invited to Grace Lavine’s party. Of all the boys in that neighborhood he was the only one left out, and he fancied it was Nan and Bert’s fault.
“They don’t like me and they are setting everybody against me,” he thought. “I shan’t stand it, not me!”
Two days later he followed Bert into the schoolyard, in which a large number of boys were playing.
“Hullo! how’s the ghost?” he cried. “Is it still living at your house?”
“You be still about that ghost, Danny Rugg!” cried Bert, with flashing eyes.
“Oh, but wouldn’t I like to have a house with a ghost,” went on Danny tantalizingly. “And a sister who was afraid of it!”
“Will you be still, or not?”
“Why should I be still? You’ve got the ghost, haven’t you? And Nan is scared to death of it, isn’t she?”
“No, she isn’t.”
“Yes, she is, and so are you and all the rest of the family.” And then Danny set up his old shout: “Afraid of a ghost! Afraid of a ghost!”
Some of the other boys followed suit and soon a dozen or more were crying, “Afraid of a ghost!” as loudly as they could.
Bert grew very pale and his breath came thickly. He watched Danny and when he came closer caught him by the arm.
“Let go!” cried the big boy roughly.
“I want you to stop calling like that.”
“I shan’t stop.”
“I say you will!”
Bert had hardly spoken when Danny struck at him and hit him in the arm. Then Bert struck out in return and hit Danny in the chin. A dozen or more blows followed in quick succession. One struck Bert in the eye and blackened that organ, and another reached Danny’s nose and made it bleed. Then the two boys clinched and rolled over on the schoolyard pavement.
“A fight! A fight!” came from those looking on, and this was taken up on all sides, while many crowded forward to see what was going on.
The school principal, Mr. Tetlow, was just entering the school at the time. Hearing the cry he ran around into the yard.
“Boys! boys! what does this mean?” he demanded, and forced his way through the crowd to where Bert and Danny lay, still pummeling each other. “Stand up at once and behave yourselves,” and reaching down, he caught each by the collar and dragged him to his feet.
CHAPTER XIX
Nan’s Plea
Bert’s heart sank when he saw that it was the school principal who held him by the collar. He remembered what Nan had said about fighting and being expelled.
“It was Bert Bobbsey’s fault,” blustered Danny, wiping his bleeding nose on his sleeve.
“No, it wasn’t,” answered Bert quickly. “It was his fault.”
“I say it was your fault!” shouted Danny. “He started the fight, Mr. Tetlow.”
“He struck first,” went on Bert undauntedly.
“He caught me by the arm and wouldn’t let me go,” came from Danny.
“I told him to keep still,” explained Bert. “He was calling, ‘Afraid of a ghost!’ at me and I don’t like it. And he said my sister Nan was afraid of it, too.”
“Both of you march up to my office,” said Mr. Tetlow sternly. “And remain there until I come.”
“My nose is bleeding,” whined Danny.
“You may go and wash your nose first,” said the principal.
With a heart