I did so, and what he said was true. Mack (Morgan gave all his dogs names that rhymed--Zack, Mack, Jack, Tack, and even Whack and Smack), when carried to the entrance of the kennel, resolutely refused to cross the threshold, barking, whining, and exhibiting unmistakable symptoms of fear. I knelt down, and peering into the kennel saw two luminous eyes and the distinct outlines of a dog's head. "Morgan!" I exclaimed, "the mystery is easily solved; there's a dog in here." "Nonsense!" Morgan cried, speaking very excitedly. "But there is," I retorted, "see for yourself." Morgan immediately bent down and poked his head into the kennel. "What rot," he said. "You're having me on, there's nothing here." "What!" I cried, "do you mean to say you can see no dog?" "No!" he replied, "there is none!" "Let me look again!" I said, and kneeling down, I peeped in. "Do you mean to say you can't see a dog's face and eyes looking straight at us?" I asked. "No," he answered, "I can see nothing." And to prove to me the truth of what he said, he fetched a pole and raked about the kennel vigorously with it. We both, then, tried to make Mack enter, and Morgan at last caught hold of him and placed him forcibly inside. Mack's terror knew no limit. He gave one loud howl, and flying out of the kennel with his ears hanging back, tore past into the front garden, where we left him in peace. Morgan was still sceptical as to there being anything wrong with the kennel, but two days later wrote to me as follows:-- "I must apologize for doubting you the other day. I have just had, what you declared you saw, corroborated. A friend of my wife's was calling here this afternoon, and, on hearing of Mack's refusal to sleep in the kennel, at once said, 'I know what's the matter. It's the smell. Mack scents the poison which was used to destroy Zack. Have the kennel thoroughly fumigated, and you'll have no more trouble.' At my wife's request she went into the yard to have a look at it, and the moment she bent down, she cried out like you did, 'Why, there's a dog inside--a terrier!' My wife and I both looked and could see nothing. The lady, however, persisted, and, on my handing her a stick, struck at the figure she saw. To her amazement the stick went right through it. Then, and not till then, did we tell her of your experience. 'Well!' she exclaimed, 'I have never believed in ghosts, but I do so now. I am quite certain that what I see is the phantom of Zack! How glad I am, because I am at last assured animals have spirits and can come back to us.'" In concluding the accounts of phantasms of dead dogs, let me quote two cases taken from my work entitled _The Haunted Houses of London_, published by Mr. Eveleigh Nash, of Fawside House, King Street, Covent Garden, London, W.C., in 1909. The cases are these:-- _The Phantom Dachshund of W---- St., London, W._ In letter No. 1 my correspondent writes:--