I took a good squint and sure enough it was right in a bee-line with our beacon. It wasn't across our path but it was lengthways with our path. It was so narrow that we might have gone past on either side of it, but just the same it was right plunk in our path. It was quite a long ways ahead. Once, when Westy and I were going through that old park on our way home from Little Valley we got a good scare on account of that old ferris-wheel. And that's what started people thinking it was haunted. Maybe you've heard of haunted houses but I bet you never heard of a haunted ferris-wheel. That time we went through there--oh, I guess it was a couple of years ago. Anyway, it was in the night and everything was as dark as licorice bars. Maybe you never ate those, but they're mighty good, they're black. All of a sudden we heard a kind of a creaking noise and we couldn't make out where it was. Sometimes it sounded just as if it might be a person. We followed that noise the best we could and pretty soon we came to the old wheel. It isn't so big, that wheel. And it isn't so little either. Then we could hear the sound good and plain and it was up in the wheel. It sounded pretty spooky. Sometimes it was a noise like some one crying. And then it would kind of die away. When we got home we told about it and Mr. Ellsworth (he's our scoutmaster) said it was probably just the wind blowing in that creaky old thing. But after that, all the kids in Bridgeboro said the wheel was haunted. If you say a place is haunted, it's haunted. But one thing, it kept the kids away from the old park. Because, anyway, they weren't supposed to go there. Gee whiz, I can't say whether I'm afraid of a ghost or not because I never saw one, but I know that white is their patrol color. Anyway, if I were a ghost I wouldn't hang out in a ferris-wheel, I know that. I guess they're half crazy, anyway, because there used to be one in the old tumbled-down schoolhouse in North Bridgeboro. Jiminy, I should think he could have found a better place than that to stay in. But my father says it's pretty hard to find places to live in these days. We should worry, the woods for us. CHAPTER XV A SCOUT IS OBSERVANT Westy said, "I wonder how our old friend the ghost is?" I said, "If we meet him we'll take him along with us. He ought to be good on a bee-line hike because he can go right through anything." I said, "If it wasn't for Warde Hollister I'd take him into my patrol. I've got every kind of a freak in there now except a ghost." "You haven't got me," Pee-wee shouted. I said, "No, that's one kind of a freak I haven't got." "If you could have a ghost and a bandit in this patrol we'd be complete," Westy said. "I'm bad enough," Warde Hollister said. I said, "Sure, we're satisfied if you are. Take us for better or worse; you'll probably find us a good deal worse." Warde said, "It's been good fun so far."