“And that’s a fact, too!” said Jimmie. “The people in there may be ignorant of the fact that a man named Redfern ever existed.”
“But the chances are that the Redfern bunch is doing the work all the same!” insisted Sam.
“The only way to find out is to go on in and see!” declared Carl.
The two boys darted in together, leaving Sam standing alone for an instant. He saw the illumination thrown on the interior walls by their searchlights and lost no time in following on after them.
The place was absolutely silent. There was not even the sound of bird’s call or wing. The moonlight, filtering in through a break in what had once been a granite roof, showed bare white walls with little heaps of debris in the corners.
“It seems to me,” Sam said, as he looked around, “that the ghosts have chosen a very uncomfortable home.”
“There must be other rooms,” suggested Carl.
“There are two which still retain the appearance of apartments as originally constructed,” replied Sam, “one to the right, and one to the left. There seems, also, to have been an extension at the rear, but that is merely a heap of hewn stones at this time.”
As the young man ceased speaking the two boys darted through an opening in the west wall, swinging their flashlights about as they advanced into what seemed to be a stone-walled chamber of fair size. Following close behind, Sam saw the lads directing the rays of their electrics upon a series of bunks standing against the west wall. The sleeping places were well provided with pillows and blankets, and seemed to have been very recently occupied. Sam stepped closer and bent over one of the bunks.
“Now, what do you think about ghosts and ghost lights?” asked Jimmie.
“These ghosts,” Carl cut in, “seem to have a very good idea as to what constitutes comfort.”
“Three beds!” exclaimed Jimmie, flashing his light along the wall. “And that must mean three ghosts!”
Sam proceeded to a corner of the room as yet uninvestigated and was not much surprised when the round eye of his electric revealed a rough table, made of wooden planks, bearing dishes and remnants of food. He called at once to the boys and they gathered about him.
“Also,” Carl chuckled, “the three ghosts do not live entirely upon spiritual food. See there,” he continued, “they’ve had some kind of a stew, probably made out of game shot in the mountains.”