"Then we'll go with you," said Mrs. Spiker firmly.
"Can't you go on home?" I said testily. "There's no use of your
troubling yourself further."
"Does you think we'll walk by that graveyard alone?" demanded the
tavern-keeper's wife.
"But there are no ghosts," I argued.
[Illustration: "But there are no ghosts," I argued.]
"We know that," returned Mrs. Pulsifer. "Everybody knows that, but
it's never made any difference."
"A graveyard is a graveyard even if there is no bodies in it," said
Mrs. Spiker, planting herself behind me so as to cut off further
retreat.
Tim must have caught some echoes of the argument on the spirit world,
for down the hill, through the darkness, came his call.
"Go on home, Mark--I'll be back in a minute."
I believed him, and I obeyed.
XV
Tim's minute? God keep me from another as long!
I had my pipe in my chair by the fire, and knocking the ashes out, I
went to the door, and with a hand to my ear listened for his footsteps.
Tim's minutes are long! Another pipe, and the clock on the mantel
marked nine.
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