doesn't exist." "A lot of people believe they do, though," said Mr. Farrer, breaking in. "I heard the other night that old Smith's ghost has been seen again swinging from the apple tree. Three people have seen it." "Rubbish!" said the sergeant-major. "Maybe," said the young man; "but I'll bet you, Mr. Ward, for all your courage, that you won't go up there alone at twelve o'clock one night to see." "I thought I ordered you out of my house just now," said the sergeant- major, glaring at him. "Going into action," said Mr. Farrer, pausing at the door, "is one thing —you have to obey orders and you can't help yourself; but going to a lonely cottage two miles off to see the ghost of a man that hanged himself is another." "Do you mean to say I'm afraid?" blustered the other. Mr. Farrer shook his head. "I don't say anything," he remarked; "but even a cockroach does a bit of thinking sometimes." "Perhaps you'd like to go," said the sergeant-major. "I don't mind," said the young man; "and perhaps you'll think a little better of me, Mr. Ward. If I do what you're afraid to do—" Mrs. Ward and her daughter flung themselves hastily between the sergeant- major and his intended sacrifice. Mr. Farrer, pale but determined, stood his ground. "I'll dare you to go up and spend a night there alone," he said. "I'll dare you," said the incensed warrior, weakly. "All right; I'll spend Wednesday night there," said Mr. Farrer, "and I'll come round on Thursday and let you know how I got on." "I dare say," said the other; "but I don't want you here, and, what's more, I won't have you. You can go to Smith's cottage on Wednesday at twelve o'clock if you like, and I'll go up any time between twelve and three and make sure you're there. D'ye understand? I'll