"I saw something down there that looked like a woman's toe," went on Bonner very soberly.
"Good Lord! What did I tell you ?" cried the marshal, turning to his friends.

To the best of their ability they could not remember that Anderson had told them anything, but with one accord the whole party nodded approval.
"I fancy it was the ghost of a toe, however, for when I tried to pick it up it wriggled away, and I think it chuckled.

It disappear--what's the matter?
Where are you going ?" It is only necessary to state that the marshal and his posse retreated in good order to a distant spot where it was not quite so dark, there to await the approach of Wicker Bonner, who leisurely but laughingly inspected the exterior of the house and the grounds adjoining.

Finding nothing out of the ordinary, except as to dilapidation, he rejoined the party with palpable displeasure in his face.
"Well, I think I'll go back to the ice," he said; "that place is as quiet as the grave.

You are a fine lot of jokers, and I'll admit that the laugh is on me." But Bonner was mystified, uncertain.