"Then you shan't come to my house, but you _will_ come to the haunted house." Then he called aloud in a weird voice: "Spooks, Spirits, Ghosts, Wraiths, Banshees, and all, come quick--here is Billy Bounce in Spookville." With a rattle of chains, screams, groans, and a thousand odd and terrible sounds, the inhabitants of the village swooped down on them. For a few moments Billy was absolutely frozen stiff with fear, and when he looked around him at the horrible shapes and faces that surrounded him he was worse frightened than ever. Some of them breathed fire and steam while their eyes glowed like red-hot coals. Others had old, crafty and wicked faces with huge snaggle teeth. Some looked like fierce and bloodthirsty pirates--all sorts and conditions of ghosts were there, and all seemingly intent on tearing Billy limb from limb. "See him tremble!" called one old Pirate. "Ah! this reminds me of old times on the Spanish Main--make him walk the plank!" "Scream into his ear until he is deaf!" cried a Banshee. "Put a ball and chain on him and throw him in a cell!" suggested the ghost of a convict. "He's the boy who discovered Shamville--he will tell on all of us if we let him live!" said a crafty-looking old merchant. "Make him eat his own head!" cried a headless horseman. "Get away!" cried Billy; "you are a host of delusions! I don't believe in ghosts anyway, and I'm not afraid of you," for he had just remembered what Mr. Gas said about being afraid. He took a step forward, and in doing so walked through five or six ghosts who were crowding him closely. "Swish!" and every mother's ghost of them had disappeared and he was standing in the meadow alone. The moon came from behind its cloud and distinctly winked at Billy. And what a relief it was to be sure! "There," he said to himself; "Mr. Gas was right--so long as a fellow is afraid in the dark he will see all kinds of things, ghosts and everything else; but if he just grits his teeth and makes up his mind _not_ to be afraid, there is no more in the dark to hurt you than in the sunlight." And with that he planted the Singing Tree, curled up beneath it, and in a minute was sound asleep. CHAPTER XVII. IN THE VOLCANO OF VOCIFEROUS. When Billy awoke the next morning and saw the dear old sun grinning down at him, and looked about at the green meadow dotted with Black-eyed Susans and Dandelions, he could hardly realize that his adventures of the night before were real. But there on the edge of the open space stood the trees that had creaked so dismally; while even then among its trunks lingered some of the mist that had made the walls of Spookville. "What did you think of it, dogibus?" he said to Barker. But that merry little chap looked so happy and contented, and his eyes seemed so clear of unpleasant memories, that Billy decided that dogs don't see ghosts--perhaps because they are not afraid in the dark, and anyway haven't any nurses to tell them things that are not true.