Mark crawled over to the little door and peered around. He pushed both his fat legs through and sat with his feet dangling, and I saw him begin to pinch his cheek between his thumb and finger.

“There,” I says to the other fellows. “He’s got to work now. Just you wait, and Marcus Aurelius Fortunatus Tidd’ll fix up some sort of scheme to make that dog wish he was off in the woods barkin’ at a woodchuck.”

Pretty soon Mark began to drag in his legs, which was considerable of a job, and his little eyes were twinkling, though the rest of his face was solemn and without any more expression than a round apple dumpling, which it looked like a whole lot.

“Fellers,” he says, “have you got a slingshot among you?”

Both Binney Jenks and I had, and good full pockets of bully round stones, too.

“Good,” says Mark. “We’ll give Mister Man a s-s-seance.”

“A what?”

“A s-seance—that’s a sort of ghost party, where spooks go prancin’ around. Wonder if he’s s-superstitious.”

“He looked like he was right mean, if that’s any help,” says Plunk.

“Where you goin’ to git your ghosts?” I was curious to find out.

“These here’ll be sling-shot ghosts.”

“G’wan!” I sneered; but I was pretty sure he’d hit on some scheme better than ordinary.

“What’s the scary part to the ghost stories you know?” he asks.

I thought it over, remembering all the hair-raising stories I ever heard—sort of telling them over to myself to see what was the part that made them creepy. Well, sir, you’d be surprised, but it was the same thing in every one of them—noises. That was it—noises—mysterious noises that you couldn’t see any reason for. It didn’t matter what the noise was, just so there wasn’t anything around to make it. It could be a door squeaking or a chair moving or a footstep or a cat miauing or anything. I told Mark.

He nodded three times. “Sure—noises. Well, we’re goin’ to give this feller noises—mysterious noises.”

“How?”

“Sling-shots. See that dinner-bell?” He pointed to an old dinner-bell hanging on the pole back of the house.

We could see it, all right, but we couldn’t see what good it was going to do.

“Can you h-hit it with your sling-shot?”

I took a good stone and fitted it in the leather, then I knelt close to the door and took aim careful as I could. They waited, holding their breaths until I let go the rubbers, and in a second the old bell said glang just as plain as if somebody had rung it. Mark grinned until all the fat on his face looked as if it was trying to climb back of his ears. “Fine,” he says; “now keep away from the door.”

“Why?”

“So he won’t see us and think we done it. It’s got to be mysterious, ain’t it?”

We got a little back from the door, and I shot again, but this time I missed. Binney took a try at it, and glang went the old bell.

“Wait,” said Mark.

Pretty soon we saw the old man come poking out of the house and look around. He walked back to the bell and looked up at it and turned all around, watching everywhere, but of course there wasn’t a thing to be seen. When his back was to the bell Mark said to shoot again. I let her go, and glang went the bell. The old man jumped like I’d shot him instead of the bell, and looked up at it with his eyes sticking out big as eggs. I’ll bet it was a mighty mysterious happening to him.

“N-now,” says Mark, “shoot the d-dog.”

I scrouged close to the door and let the old whopper have one in the ribs. He jumped worse than the old man did when the bell rang and said “Yip, yip!”

Well, there was another noise for him. He came walking our way cautious, and he was as pale as a pond-lily. When he was about half-way I let fly at the bell again, and when it glanged I thought he was going to throw a fit. He wheeled around to look that way, and Binney reached out quick and gave the dog another. He yowled again, and around came the old man, but there wasn’t a thing to see. We could sit back where he couldn’t see us and plug away at his bell all day. We rang it twice, one glang right after another. If I’d been that fellow I calculate I’d most have jumped out of my skin, just as he did. What with the bell a-ringing without anybody to ring it, and the dog a-yelping without anybody to make him yelp, it was spooky enough to suit anybody, and a lot more than enough to suit him. You could see he wished there was five or six other men with him, or that he was off in the next state.

“Hey, up there!” he yelled, with his voice trembling and squeaky. “Hey!”

We never said a word; just kept as still as though we weren’t there at all; and I guess that helped. It always is sort of creepy to call somebody you’re sure is right there and not hear a sound. You get to wondering what’s happened to them, and—well, you know that kind of cold and wrinkly feeling you get just at the back of your neck. And to top it off we gave the old bell another lick. He turned and made tracks for the house.

Well, we weren’t helped much so far. “Give it to the dog,” says Mark; and we did, twice, good and hard. He set up an awful yelping and the man began to run, but he stopped and began whistling and calling. The dog went running after him, pretty glad to get away, I guess. I had it figured out the old man wanted some kind of company and wanted it bad, so he’d rather have the dog with him than watching us. He went hustling up to the back door, and just as he opened it Binney whanged the bell again. Well, Mister Man just waited to let in his dog and slammed the door shut so hard he ’most broke its window; and on top of everything I banged a stone right against the panel. I’ll bet he thought the ghost was rapping for him sure.

“He don’t come out again for a week,” says Plunk; and it did look as though he’d holed himself in for quite a stay.

“Guess we can git down now,” says Mark.

We climbed down the ladder cautious and sneaked out through the evergreens and behind the hedge, keeping out of sight of the house till we got to the road. Nobody made a move after us.

“Wonder who lives here?” Mark was always curious.

“Look on the mail-box,” I told him; “the name’ll be there.”

He crawled along to the little tin box on the post in front of the gate.............