I can't do a thing with him in the game." "Keep cool," warned Leslie.

"Never mind what happens this time.

We'll get at him again." Hans Dunnerwust managed to blunder along and keep in the game by sheer luck, for he did not play the cards for their face value at any time.
Still he made enough to keep on his feet and not have to get out of the game.
"Vell!" Hans finally exclaimed, as he tried in vain to win, "uf I don'd do petter as dot, I vill suicide go und gommit bretty soon alretty." "By the way, Hans," said Frank, "do you know that the fellow who used to have this room committed suicide here ?" "Shimminy Gristmas!" gurgled the Dutch boy.

"You don'd say dot!" "Yes, I do, and the room is said to be haunted by his spook, which cannot rest in its grave." "Vell, dot vos nice! Oxcuse me while I haf a chill!" At this moment a hollow groan seemed to come from beneath the chair on which Hans sat, and the Dutch lad gave a jump, getting on his feet quickly, and peering under the chair, his face growing pale, as he chattered: "Vot vos dot, ain'd id ?" Some of the other boys were not a little alarmed, for all had heard it distinctly.
"It--it actually sounded like a groan!" said Wat Snell.
"That's what it did," agreed George Harris.
"But you know it couldn't have been anything of the sort," laughed Frank, "for you fellows do not believe in ghosts." "Who--who--who said anything about ghosts ?" stammered Snell.
At this moment another groan, louder and more dismal than the first, seemed to come from directly beneath the table.
There was a scrambling among the boys, as they hastened to get their legs from beneath that table.
"I don'd feel very vell aroundt der bit uf mein stomach," gasped Hans.
"I pelief I vos going to be sick alretty yet." One of the boys held the light, while they all looked under the table, but they did not find anything there.
"Now, that is singular," commented Harvey Dare.

"If that wasn't a groan, I never heard one in my life." "And a real ghostly groan at that!" said Leslie Gage.
"I never did take any stock in this rot about ghosts, but----" "Beware, young man, how you mock at the spirits of the departed!" The voice seemed to come from one of the alcove bedrooms, and it was of the sort to make the hair stand on the head of a superstitious person.
"Oh, dunder und blitzen!" panted Hans.