trusted each other.
“When Danny threw the ice at me it flew past and broke Mr. Ringley’s window.”
“What, of the shoe store?”
“Yes. Mr. Ringley came running out after both of us. I ran one way and Danny ran another. I ran into the alleyway past Jackson’s barn, and got over the fence, and he didn’t come any further.”
“Does Mr. Ringley think you broke the window?”
“I guess he does. Anyway, he followed me and not Danny.”
“But you had nothing to do with it. Oh, Bert, what made you run away at all. Why didn’t you stop and tell the truth?”
“I—I got scared, that’s why. I was afraid he’d get a policeman.”
“Danny ought to own up that he did it.”
“He won’t do it. He’ll put it off on me if he can,—because I chased him in the first place.”
“Did Mr. Ringley know it was you?”
“I don’t know. Now, Nan, remember, you promised not to tell.”
“All right, Bert, I won’t say a word. But—but—what do you think Mr. Ringley will do?”
“I don’t know.”
When they reached the school Danny Rugg was nowhere to be seen. The boys continued to have fun snowballing, but Bert had no heart for play and went to his classroom immediately. But he could not put his mind on his lessons and missed both in geography and arithmetic.
“Bert, you are not paying attention,” said the teacher severely. “You just said the capital of Pennsylvania was Albany. You must know better than that.”
“Philadelphia,” corrected Bert.
“After this pay more attention.”
Danny Rugg did not come to school, nor did he show himself until an hour after school was out. Bert had gone home and brought forth his sled, and he and Nan were giving Freddie and Flossie a ride around the block when Danny hailed Bert.
“Come here, I want to talk to you,” he said, from across the street.
“What do you want?” asked Bert roughly.
“I’ve got something to tell you. It won’t take but a minute.”
Bert hesitated, and then leaving Nan to go on alone with the sled, he crossed to where Danny was standing, partly sheltered by a tree box.
“You can’t blame that broken window off on me, Danny Rugg,” he began.
“Hush!” whispered Danny, in alarm. “I ain’t going to blame it off on you, Bert. I only want you to promise to keep quiet about it.”
“Why should I? It was your fault.”
“Was it? I don’t think so. You began the fight. Besides, if you dare to say a word, I’ll—I’ll give you a big thrashing!” blustered Danny.
He clenched his fists as he spoke and looked so fierce that Bert retreated a step.
“I haven’t said anything, Danny.”
“Then you had better not. Old Ringley doesn’t know who broke his window. So you keep quiet; do you hear?”
“Are you sure he doesn’t know?”
“Yes, because he has been asking everybody about it.”
There was a pause and the two boys looked at each other.
“You ought to pay for the window,” said Bert.
“Huh! I’m not going to do it. You can pay for it if you want to. But don’t you dare to say anything about me! If you do, you’ll catch it, I can tell you!” And then Danny walked off.
“What did he have to say?” questioned Nan, when Bert came back to her.
“He wants me to keep still. He says Mr. Ringley doesn’t know who did it.”
“Did you promise to keep still, Bert?”
“No, but if I say anything Danny says he will give it to me.”
A crowd of boys and girls now came up and the talk was changed. All were having a merry time in the snow, and for the time being Bert forgot his troubles. He and Nan gave Freddie and Flossie a long ride which pleased the younger twins very much.
“I wish you was really and truly horses,” said Flossie. “You go so beautifully!”
“And if I had a whip I could make you go faster,” put in Freddie.
“For shame, Freddie!” exclaimed Nan. “Would you hit the horse that gave you such a nice ride?”
“Let me give you a ride,” answered the little fellow, to change the subject.
He insisted upon it, and soon Nan was on the sled behind Flossie, and Bert and Freddie were hauling them along where pulling was easy. This was great sport for Freddie, and he puffed and snorted like a real horse, and kicked up his heels, very much to Flossie’s delight.
“Gee-dap!” shrieked the little maiden. “Gee-dap!” and moved back and forth on the sled, to make it go faster. Away went Freddie and Bert, as fast as the legs of the little fellow could travel. They went down a long hill and through a nice side street, and it was a good half hour before they reached home,—just in time for a good hot supper.
CHAPTER V
Bert’s Ghost
Bert felt relieved to learn that Mr. Ringley did not know who had broken the store window, but he was still fearful that the offense might be laid at his door. He was afraid to trust Danny Rugg, and did not know what the big boy might do.
“He may say I did it, just to clear himself,” thought Bert. “And if Mr. Ringley comes after me, he’ll remember me sure.”
But his anxiety was forgotten that evening, when some of the neighbors dropped in for a call. There was music on the piano and some singing, and almost before Bert and Nan knew it, it was time to go to bed. Freddie and Flossie had already retired, worn out by their play.
But after Bert had said his prayers and found himself alone in the small bed chamber he occupied, he could not sleep. The talk of the folks below kept him awake at first, and even after they had gone to bed he could not forget the happening of the day, and he could still hear the crash of that glass as the chunk of ice went sailing through it.
At last he fell into a troubled doze, with the bright light of the moon shining across the rug at the foot of the bed. But the doze did not last long, and soon some kind of a noise awoke him with a start.
He opened his eyes and his gaze wandered across the moon-lit room. Was he dreaming, or was that really a figure in white standing at the foot of his bed? With a shiver he ducked down and covered his head with the blankets.
For two or three minutes he lay quiet, expecting every instant to have something unusual happen. Then, with great caution, he pushed the blankets back and took another look.
There was nothing there!
“But I saw something,” he told himself. “I am sure I saw something. What could it have been?”
Ah, that was the question. For over an hour he continued to lie awake, watching and listening. Nan was in the next little chamber and he was half of a mind to call her, but he was afraid she would call him a “’fraid-cat!” something he despised.
Bert had heard of ghosts and now he thought of all the ghost stories he could remember. Had the thing in white been a ghost? If so, where had it come from?
After a while he tried to dismiss the thing from his mind, but it was almost morning before he fell asleep again. This time he slept so soundly, however, that he did not rouse up until his mother came