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Thomas Westwood

I The Halloween Ghost.

T was the thirty-first of October and a wild blustering night, too. "A regular witches' night," Hal Merritt exultingly remarked, peering out into the gloom, as he stood in the front doorway, with his little sister Gladys beside him, watching his father and mother as they hurried down the walk leading to the gate. "Now, be good children until we come home," called back Mrs. Merritt. "Have as merry a time as you can and play all the games you want to, but don't take the lamp off of the mantel-piece and don't get on fire. We will come back as soon as we can," and they hurried off down the street. "My! the wind is blowing hard, isn't it?" said Gladys, looking up to see how the branches of the tall elms were being tossed to and fro by the fierce wind, which seemed to be having an uproarious frolic. It came in rough gusts around the house, banging the shutters and whirling the dry leaves through the air and every now and then it would send the clouds scudding across the moon at a great rate.

As ten-year-old Hal said, it did seem just the kind of night that would tempt the witches to hunt up their broomsticks and start out for a ride. The two children were just about to go in and shut the door when Hal noticed that the sky in the south had grown suddenly red and he called to the others to come out and look. "It must be a fire down towards the city," they said, in awe-struck tones, as they watched the columns of smoke roll and saw the sky grow brighter. But the air was keen, and they were soon chilled through and glad to go back again into the warm, brightly lighted sitting-room. There were six of them in all, Hal and Gladys and four of Hal's friends, whom he had invited to his Halloween party-Ned and Sally Morris and Will and Tom Merrihew.

Mr. and Mrs. Merritt had expected to spend the evening with the children, but a neighbor's boy had brought them word that a sick neighbor needed them and they had gone over for a few minutes.