[The Chums of Scranton High on the Cinder Path by Donald Ferguson]@TWC D-Link bookThe Chums of Scranton High on the Cinder Path CHAPTER II 1/8
ON THE OLD QUARRY ROAD When Julius made this assertion, the other fellows looked at each other in what might be said to be a queer way.
In fact, they had all heard certain absurd stories told in connection with the old quarry that had not been worked for so many years that the road leading to it across country had grown up in grass and weeds.
Some adventurous boys who went out there once declared it was a most gruesome place, with pools of water covered with green scum lying around, and all sorts of holes looking like the cave Robinson Crusoe found on his island home to be seen where granite building rocks had been excavated from the towering cliffs. It was K.K.who laughed first, actually laughed scornfully, though Julius took it all so seriously.
Thad Stevens followed with a chuckle, after his peculiar fashion. "You give me a pain, Julius, you certainly do," ventured K.K. "To think," added Thad, assuming a lofty air of superior knowledge, "of a fellow attending Scranton High believing the ridiculous yarns these uneducated tillers of the soil and their hired help pass around, about there being some sort of a genuine _ghost_ haunting the old quarry--why, it's positively silly of you, Julius, and I don't mind telling you so to your face." "Oh, hold on there, fellows!" expostulated the other boy; "I didn't say that I really and truly believed any of those awful stories, did I? But so many different persons have told me the same thing that, somehow, I came to think there _might_ be some fire where there was so much smoke.
Of course, it can't be a ghost, but, nevertheless, there are queer goings-on about that deserted quarry these nights--three different people, and one of them a steady-going woman in the bargain, assured me they had glimpsed moving lights there, a sort of flare that did all sorts of zigzag stunts, like it was cutting signals in the air." "Hugh, do you think that could be what they call wild-fire, or some folks give it the name of will-o'-the-wisp, others say jack-o'-lantern ?" demanded Horatio Juggins, who had been listening intently while all this talk was going on. "I'd hardly like to say," replied Hugh thoughtfully.
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