Ann Arbor Tales

as the home of the original bogey man. On an occasion,-so the story goes-three seniors resolved to spend a night in the ticklish place for the purpose of determining scientifically

t last an owner braver than those before him, and fortified by innumerable expressions of contempt in which a pictures

spirits, their own home gone, joined forces with the ghostly occupants of the

hill on the left of the so-called "Middle Road" to Ypsilanti. Behind it loomed a dense wood and to the right and left stretched dreary fields, deserted save by the gophers and ch

ight carnival-ground of the devil and his imps, and it was furt

man, skated, one freezing night, on the crust of that fam

sed back and forth across the ragged wall. No light shone anywhere. Several of the windows gaped black, like open mouths, waiting to devour. Others were boarded

toed within. A breath of wind whistled through the warped clap-boards and the old house sighed.

with the larger at the front. Against the rear wall of the back room stood an old bin, at one time probably used for storing grain. In the corner of the front room was an oil stove; near it, a

ween the boards of the window. As far as he could see in either direc

kidnappers. He would be bound, of course, and, more than likely, gagg

all on State Street, away back in town. Undetermined as to the means of accomplishment he was none the less conscious of the work that lay before him.

d through the crack again. That instant the thin moon mounte

ood at the step while the other held a whispered conversation with the driver; then, with his companion, he help

o advanced toward the house there was no sound. Norse tiptoed back into the smaller room. He held out his arms and his fingers touched the corner of the grain-bin. He heard footsteps that advanced, then stopped, on the floor below. He

ld bring his eyes to the level of them. Groping he touched the hand-bag with his right hand and drew it nearer. The next moment he heard the stairs creak. He held his

m, one of which he flung upon the floor beside the oil stove. His companion set the lantern in the corner and stooping in front of the stove proceeded to light it. Kerwin stood in the middle of the floor. The man who had

quatted in front of it and one of them produced a pipe and pouch of

shook h

g; he dassent yell," pr

righ

difficult at first for him to get his mouth back into its norm

he was

There was an utter absen

im drew the second b

front of me.... I'm sittin' on 'em and

will, t

ed no re

cold?... We don't wa

cold," the ca

d which laste

g over his shoulder: "Well, we ain't

as the do

leg and kicked Ke

nted house bef

emember," Ker

ago. Fellow murdered there once, they said. Funniest things used to happen.... A hand would open the door

ompanion muttered edging near him.

empt. Next morning he didn't show up. The town marshal went to find him. He found him all right. It was in one of the up-stairs' rooms, and there he sat in a busted chair, stone dead, with his fishy eyes staring at a hole in the wall. They got a bu

Billy! Billy!

ened eyes upon each other. In that moment's stillness they noted that the wind

t?" His whi

eard somethi

ur

'm sittin

t seem to

e." He indicated the little room

the wind." Billy swaggered with a monstrous assumption of bra

ou 'bout that haunted

? I don't care a darn 'bout

't really afraid o

be I ain't

matter with

you min

denly and his fa

cried. "Did you see t

eadily. His mouth was ope

? You ain't drunk, are

! Lo

blue smoke. Then, before the instant became an ?on, they saw rise, as though from the very heart of the dazzle, the upper-half of a white, shrouded form. One arm waved sweepingly toward them. Befo