Then there came another crash of thunder, and at the same instant a noise as of an overturned table, and the rattle of pans and pots upon the floor. But the eyes, they were gone-no, they were close upon the floor, and coming toward them. Tom could not deny that he felt a creeping feeling, and poor Jackie, always observant of the goings on, was simply overcome with fright, and buried his head in Tom's side to shut out the dreaded sight. "Come, Jackie, let's get out of here," encouraged Tom, and having observed a window in the room to the left, he once more took up his charge and made for it. Halfway to his objective point, however, he was startled for a moment to see revealed by a lantern the whiskered face of a man on the other side of the window. Tom stopped short an instant, but not so Jackie, who struggled from his protector's embrace calling out, "There's papa!" In a brief interval Jackie was in his parent's arms, and as they lived next door to the deserted mansion, Tom was soon being thanked time and again for the rescue of the little runaway. "And is the house really haunted?" asked Tom, and then without waiting for a reply he answered his own question "but of course I know it is not." "No," was the laughing response, "but it has been unoccupied except by cats, and in some way has gotten that name." "And then the eyes we saw-?" "Quite likely a stray cat, but still it would not be wondered at if your nerves got on edge. You are a brave boy, Tom Dare, and I know I shall hear of brave deeds of yours in the future." The storm had moderated, and Tom now had to hasten back to camp where he was welcomed for he had for distribution a large bag of apples, given him by Jackie's father. That evening about the camp-fire Tom recounted his adventures to his friends, and a trip was planned for the next day to explore the secrets of the old house. The following morning, after drill and the camp duties had been performed, Tom, Dick and Ben set out for the scene of the previous day's excitement. "I don't believe half of these `haunted house' stories," said Tom, "ever since-," and here he stopped. "Yes, ever since you thought we had a real ghost, and suggested leaving the poor spirit to its own reflection while you and the rest of us made for home," broke in Dick. "When was that?" questioned Ben. "Why, about a year ago," Dick responded, "four of us spent a night in a house with a `haunted' reputation, and after numerous fake alarms, caused by the wind shaking the windows or banging the shutters, we at last got track of the real disturber, who happened along the very night we were on watch." "Who was it?" questioned Ben, eagerly, while Tom, remembering his temporary terror on that night, grew suspiciously red in the face. "None other than a marauding cat," Dick replied, "whose head had stuck in a can it was drinking from, and who knocked the unwelcome helmet on the floor in an effort to disengage it."