“No, not in a Dunesman, nor in the Dunes children, unless you mean those eighteen children of old Jacob Biggles that were named after wrecks and ragged as ghosts,” Mrs. Hand retorted. “But, Aunt, I’ve seen the Duneswoman,” protested Mermaid. “So has Dad.” “All you’ve seen is a face and an arm,” corrected Mrs. Hand. “And I can’t find any one else who has seen as much as that. A face and an arm are not a ghost. They’re a--I don’t know what,” she finished. “A hallucination,” Mermaid offered. “A hallelujah. That’s what you say when you see one. You say ‘Hallelujah!’” came from Ho Ha. “When I see one I may say something even more remarkable,” his wife responded, grimly. It was several nights later when she awoke and uttered a long-drawn scream of terror. “Hosea!” she cried, clutching her pillow. “Hosea, there’s someone at the window!” Ho Ha leaped up manfully, went to the window, stuck his head through the netting which was tacked on as a screen, and drew it in again. “Nonsense, Keturah,” he said, gently. “No one in sight except Captain Vanton standing on the dune in front of his house.” The Vanton cottage was a dune away, but a valley lay between. “You--why, you must have seen a ghost. Oh, ho-ho-ho!” He communicated the nature of the disturbance to Mermaid in the next room, and when Cap’n Smiley, who slept at the station, came over for breakfast next morning, there was some chaffing about the ghost Keturah had seen. “I certainly saw something,” said Mrs. Hand, emphatically. “And if it was a ghost it was the ghost of a live man. It had sidewhiskers exactly like Captain Vanton! You all know he prowls around at night. There’s something mighty queer about it; but then, everything about that man is queer. When it comes to his looking in my bedroom window, though, I think I shall do something.” “Oh, pshaw, Keturah,” said her brother. “Vanton may be a peculiar fellow, but it’s not likely he walks by your windows. At two in the morning, anyway.” “You seem to think I have nothing he might covet, John, but I have a few trinkets that anybody would set a value to!” “Is that why you hugged your pillow?” inquired her husband, innocently. Keturah gave a little jump and looked about her nervously, a performance entirely contrary to her nature. As if she realized that she had betrayed herself she said, finally: “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything about it but I did bring my stones over here. I felt it wasn’t safe to leave ’em in Blue Port, and of course I sleep with ’em under my head.” “Stones?” exclaimed Mermaid in mystification. “You don’t mean jewels, do you, Aunt Keturah?”