"Not the least in the world," laughed Granny. "None of them ever happened in my sight or hearing. I just don't believe them. Though, I suppose, there must be something queer, for there are many stories dating back a long time. And surely those workmen wouldn't act as they did unless something happened. And that one poor man wouldn't purposely slide down an ash-chute, I think. But it's all a mystery to me."
"Do you know any more stories about the place you haven't told us?" asked Arden. "I mean a sort of ghost story that isn't about Patience Howe or Nathaniel Greene?"
"I might manage to remember one," smiled Granny.
Dorothy was on the outer edge of the little circle about Granny, who sat near the crackling fire. Harry had wandered to a distant window, and Dorothy followed him.
"To go and look for a ghost instead of sitting here listening to stories about one. Come on! I dare you!" she challenged, her eyes sparkling in the hearth glow. "We each can take a flashlight. Let's slip away while the others are listening to Granny tell that story, and see if there isn't a real ghost on some of the upper floors. Night and Christmas Eve ought to be a proper time for a ghost, hadn't it? Will you come with me?"
"I will!" said Harry without a moment of hesitation.
They slipped out of the room, attracting no attention, and, flashing the beams of their electric torches ahead of them, walked softly up the broad stairs. It was cold and gloomy away from the gay Christmas room, but they did not mind. The spirit of the quest was upon them.
They walked the length of the long upper halls. In a far corner of the second one, where the work of demolition had not started, half hidden by old boards and trash, stood a cedar chest.
"Perhaps," said Dorothy with a nervous little laugh, "the ghost lies in there. If it were a closet we might look for the skeleton. But let's have a look, anyhow."
Harry raised the lid, which was covered with dust and white plaster dust. Dorothy flashed her light within. Then she uttered a suppressed scream. For the first glance seemed to show in the chest the body of a woman clad in a red cloak resting beside the form of a Continental soldier with high black boots.
"No, only their garments!" said Harry, laughing. "But I think, Dot, that at last we are on the trail of the mystery!"