“That suits me!” “Don’t lose any time—this whole building may be coming down!” As the last words were uttered the boys heard another crash behind them. It was so close that it made all of them jump. “Hurry up, everybody!” yelled Biff Hooper. “Can’t get out any too fast for me,” returned Jerry. “You said it!” muttered Chet. One by one the boys scrambled up on the window sill and squeezed their way out between the boards until at last all were standing outside the old house. The storm was still raging. Rain poured down in a drenching torrent. “Now let’s get as far away from this place as we can travel!” said Jerry. “Somebody is going to get killed if we stick around here much longer.” He was pale with fright and it was plain that the strange experiences of the past hour had completely unnerved him. “That’s the way I feel about it,” agreed Biff Hooper. “I’m not a bit comfortable around here. Let’s beat it.” “I’d like to find out what is wrong with the place,” persisted Frank doggedly. “You couldn’t drag me back in there with a team of horses,” objected Chet. “Let’s clear out. I’ve had enough of it.” “Come on,” urged Jerry. “There’s no use going back. The whole place will cave in on us if we aren’t careful. And, anyway, there’s something fishy about the house.” Frank saw that the others were determined on leaving, in spite of the pouring rain, so, reluctantly, he gave in, and the five boys hastened around the side of the house over to the shed where they had left the motorcycles. “We can at least stay in the shed until the rain goes over,” he said. “Not on your life,” declared Chet Morton. “I’m going to put as much distance between little me and that haunted house as I can. That place gets on my nerves.” And with that he began tinkering with the machine, preparatory to starting it. Frank and Joe decided that no good would be served by arguing the matter, so they prepared to leave with the others, although they privately resolved to return to the Polucca place at the earliest opportunity, to investigate the mystery of the house on the cliff more thoroughly. Jerry and Biff Hooper took their places, and in a few minutes the three motorcycles drove slowly out of the shed and across the yard toward the lane. It was then that they heard the laugh! From the haunted house came a harsh, mocking laugh that rang out in peals of derisive merriment. It continued for several seconds, and could be heard quite plainly even above the noise of the engines and the drumming of the rain on the roof. Then it stopped, abruptly. The boys looked at one another. “Did you hear some one laugh?” asked Frank, unable to believe his ears. “You bet I did!” exclaimed Chet. “And that _does_ settle it. I’m leaving here right away.” “That was the most nerve-racking laugh I ever heard in my life,” declared Jerry. “Let’s get out of here, quick.” “Somebody’s playing a joke on us!” Frank said angrily. “I’m going back.”