“Well, of course I didn’t see it myself,” spoke Mr. Lagg, “but Hi Sneddecker, who stopped there to eat his supper one night when he went out to set his eel pots—Hi told me he seen something tall and white rushing around, and making a terrible noise in the bushes.” “I thought ghosts never made a noise,” remarked Grace, languidly. She was beginning to believe now that it was only a poor attempt at a joke. “Hi said this one did,” went on Mr. Lagg, being too interested to quote verses now. “It was him as told me about the clanking chains,” he went on, “but, as I said, I don’t take no stock in that part.” “I guess Hi was telling one of his fish stories,” commented Frank. “Oh, Josh Whiteby seen it, too,” said Mr. Lagg. He was enjoying the sensation he had created. “Is he reliable?” asked Will. “Well, he don’t owe me as much as some,” was the judicious answer. “Josh says he seen the white thing, but he didn’t mention no chains. It was more like a ‘swishing’ sound he heard. “Dot any more tandy?” asked Paul, and the laugh that followed in a measure relieved the nerves of the girls, for in spite of their almost entire disbelief in what they had heard, the talk bothered them a little. “There are no such things as ghosts!” declared Betty, with excellent sense. “We are silly to even talk about them. Oh, there is something I want for my boat,” and she pointed to a little brass lantern. “It will be just fine for going up on deck with,” she proceeded. “Of course the electric lights, run by the storage battery, are all right, but we need a lantern like that. How much is it, Mr. Lagg?.” “That lantern to you Will cost—just two!” “I’ll take it,” said Betty, promptly. “Dollars—not cents,” said the storekeeper, quickly. “I couldn’t make a dollar rhyme in there, somehow or other,” he added. “You might say,” spoke Will, “‘’Twill cost you two dollar, but don’t make a holler.’” “That isn’t my style. My poetry is always correct,” said Mr. Lagg, somewhat stiffly. The lantern was wrapped up and the young people got ready to go down to the boat. “Say, Mr. Lagg,” asked Will, lingering a bit behind the others, “just how much is there in this ghost story, anyhow?” “Just what I told you,” was the answer. “There is something queer on that island.” “Then the girls will find out what it is!” declared Will, with conviction. “If they could find the man who lost the five hundred dollar bill, they’re equal to laying the ghost of Elm Island. I’m not going to worry about them.” “Let’s go down a little way farther and have a look at the haunted island,” proposed Grace, when they were again on board the _Gem_. “Have we time?” asked Betty. “Lots,” declared Will.