“Why there were a dozen or more bands of these Pine Robbers. They used to make their headquarters in the Pines back of Lakewood. They would dig a hole in the sand and hide in it the stuff they had stolen, and then, when they had enough to make up a cargo they would take it to Toms River and ship it to New York, where William Franklin helped them dispose of it.” 

 “Who was William Franklin?” demanded Grant. 

 “Why, every educated man knows that William Franklin was the last royal governor of New Jersey. He was the son of old Ben Franklin. He inherited his father’s brains, but not his father’s disposition. He was one of the bitterest of all the Tories, and when the war of the Revolution broke out he went to New York to be with his friends.” 

 “What happened to this man Fagan?” asked Fred. “Is his ghost around here, too?” 

 “I can’t tell you,” replied George, “whether it is here or not. I know Fagan got to be such a bad man stealing, shooting, tormenting the women and children that finally a big gang of men took after him and caught him down here between Trenton and Freehold.” 

 “Did they do anything to him after they caught him?” inquired Grant. 

 “Not very much. They just hanged him from the limb of a big tree by the side of the road and left the body swinging there in the air for two or three days. Finally they left the head in the noose, stuck a long pipe between the jaws and my grandfather used to tell me that the head was there until the crows had picked out the eyes and left nothing but the grinning skull.” 

 “That’s a nice story to tell just before we make our bows at a spook party,” said Fred. 

 The boy was striving to speak lightly, but his voice sounded strange even in his own ears. Indeed, by this time, after the gruesome stories of the Cowboys had been told, the nerves of all the boys were on edge. 

 The dim outlines of the Meeker House were now plainly visible. The silence that rested over the place was unbroken except for the sighing of the wind as it swept through the ancient pine trees that grew in the front yard. 

 “This is a ghost story up to date, isn’t it?” said Grant. “I don’t suppose many of those Cowboys or Skinners ever traveled around in automobiles.” 

 “Probably not,” said John dryly, and conversation 

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