Everybody dies, don't they?

Everybody come back, isn't that so?

You tried to get into the locked drawer today, didn't you?

How do the dead come back, mother?

What's the secret? The middle toe of the right foot by Ambrose Beers.

From Can Such Things Bees by Ambrose Beers, copyright by the Neal Publishing Company by permission

of the publishers.

One, it is well known that the old mountain house is haunted.

In all the rural district near about, and even in the town of Marshall a mile away,

not one person of unbiased mind entertains a doubt of it. Incredulity is confined to those

opinionated persons who will be called cranks,

as soon as a useful word shall have penetrated the intellectual domain of the martial advance.

The evidence that the house is haunted is of two kinds. The testimony of disinterested witnesses

who have had ocular proof, and that of the house itself.

The former may be disregarded and ruled out on any of the various grounds of objection which may be urged against it by the ingenious,

but facts within the observation of all are material and controlling.

In the first place, the mountain house has been unoccupied

by mortals for more than ten years, and with its outbuildings is slowly falling into decay,

a circumstance which in itself the judicious will hardly venture to ignore. It stands a little

way off the loneliest reach of the Marshall and

Hariston Road, in an opening which was once a farm, and is still disfigured with strips of

rotting fence and half covered with brambles overrunning a stony and sterile soil, long,

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