He drew the blanket closer about his
lean form and shivered as with a chill.
"I know this much about the place from hearsay," he said in a guttural
whisper. "It's supposed to be haunted. I've heard more than one of
these jays,--big huskies too,--say they wouldn't go near the place
after dark for all the money in the state."
"That's just talk to scare you, Ague," said Dillingford. "People live
up there and since we've been here two or three men visitors have come
down from the place to sample our stock of wet goods. Nothing
suspicious looking or ghostly about them either. I talked with a
couple of 'em day before yesterday. They were out for a horseback ride
and stopped here for a mug of ale."
"Were they foreigners?" inquired Barnes.
"If you want to call an Irishman a foreigner, I'll have to say one of
them was. He had a beautiful brogue. I'd never seen an Irishman in
slick riding clothes, however, so I doubted my ears at first. You
don't associate a plain Mick with anything so swell as that, you know.
The other was an American, I'm sure. Yesterday they rode past here
with a couple of swell looking women. I saw them turn up the road to
Green Fancy, so that knocks your ghost story all to smash, Bacon.
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