hobgoblins and haunted houses. Of course, with such a propensity, Chatz could be depended on to try and frighten his chums from time to time. He was forever "seeing things" in the dark.

The rest of the boys had plenty of fun with Chatz, which he took in good part; but although, as a rule, his alarms proved to be false ones nothing seemed to disturb his deep-rooted convictions. They even said he carried a rabbit's foot, for good luck, the animal having been killed by Chatz himself in a graveyard, and in the full of the moon.

Needless to say Chatz Maxfield was a Southern-born lad, as his accent alone proved. He was a fine fellow, taken as a whole, outside of this silly belief in ghosts, which he possibly imbibed from the small darkies with whom he played on his father's Georgia plantation, years back.

"I don't see any boats around here, fellows!" remarked Ty Collins, when there came a little lull in the conversation, after Mr. Garrabrant had been explaining some puzzling matter that one of the boys had put up to him.

"Why, that's a fact!" exclaimed "Lil Artha," as the long-legged secretary, Arthur Stansbury was called by his mates—he was a devoted amateur photographer, and even then had been busying himself with some part of his equipment as he sat by the fire.

Arthur was keenly desirous of learning all the various kinks that a first class scout must know. He was somewhat of a joker in his way, and at times a little addicted to the use of current slang; but a warm-hearted, impulsive lad all the same.

"They are to be on hand in the morning, boys," remarked Mr. Garrabrant. "And of course we shall not think of leaving here until they come. Make your minds easy on that score, Nat and Jasper. Your heels will have a chance to get well, never fear."

"Where's Chatz?" asked one of the other boys, suddenly.

"He asked permission to walk back a bit over our trail," observed Elmer. "Said he missed a buckle from his coat, which he was carrying over his arm when he tripped. I let him take a lantern with him to see if he could find it."

"Lil Artha" began to laugh, and several of the other boys joined in.

"Oh! my! what if he happens to run across one of those ghosts he's always talking about?" suggested Toby Ellsworth Jones, whose grandfather had been a veteran, and a soldier under the colonel who died at Alexandria, Va., in the Civil War; whence the name of Ellsworth—Toby was just wild on the subject of aeronautics; and while thus far everything he attempted had proven as flat a failure as the famous flying machine of Darius Green, still he lived in hopes of accomplishing something that would make the name of Jones renowned.

Several of the boys struggled to their feet at this, finding themselves stiff in the legs after their long walk.

"Look! there's a light coming just flying along the road right now!" cried Larry Billings.

"And that must be Chatz on the full run, though he wouldn't yell out for anything!" exclaimed Mark.

"Something must be chasing him, fellows!" declared Toby, in great excitement.

"Perhaps it's a wildcat!" suggested Jasper Merriweather, who was a bit timid.

"Here he comes, and he can speak for himself. What ails you, Charlie; what happened to start you running?" asked the scout master, as the boy came hurrying up, breathing hard, and showing signs of positive alarm.

"Reckon I saw something, suh, that was mighty mysterious!" replied Chatz; at which the entire group of scouts looked at each other, and held their breath in awe.

CHAPTER II.

"I see you found your buckle, Chatz," remarked Elmer, noticing what the other was holding in the hand that was not occupied in grasping the lighted lantern.

"Oh! yes, I picked that up where I tripped, and nearly fell flat," replied the other, quickly. "Just as I got up off my knees I happened to look alongside the road, where the trees grow so thick, and I give you my word, fellows, I saw a moving white figure that had the most terrible yellow eyes ever! I know you all laugh at me whenever I say I believe in ghosts; but if that wasn't one I miss my guess, yes suh."

"I'll dare you to go back with me till we find out," said Elmer, quickly.

Chatz hesitated; but for all his silly notions in this one line the boy was far from being a coward.

"All right, if you say so, I'm willing," he declared. "I'd just like to know what that was, anyhow, if not a specter. Come on, Elmer."

"Take me along, won't you?" asked Lil Artha, gaining his feet, as he thrust his kodak away.

"Me, too!" called out several others; while a few hung back, not caring to take chances of a meeting with a real ghost.

"You can go along, Arthur, likewise Ted and Toby. The rest had better stay here with me to guard the camp, in case there happens to be a raid of ghosts," remarked the scout master, in a tone that put an end to all protestations.

So the little party trotted off, followed by wishful glances from the balance of those who would have liked to be with them.

Down the road they went, Chatz keeping in close contact with Elmer, and maintaining a discreet silence. Presently they arrived at the spot where he had found the missing buckle.

"Here's where I stooped down to hunt, boys," he remarked, in a low voice; "and when I looked over yonder, I saw IT standing just back of that fringe of brush, waving its long arms at me, and staring to beat the band. Do you see anything there, fellows?"

"Not a thing, Chatz," replied Artha, cheerfully. "To the foolish house for you!"

"What's that?" said Toby, holding up his hand, suddenly.

"Did you see anything move?" demanded the Southern lad, eagerly, as though he wanted to prove that his alarm had been well founded.

"I thought I did," replied Toby, quivering with eagerness.

"Listen, fellows," observed Elmer, with a chuckle.

From somewhere back in the woods there came a weird sound, mournful enough to strike a chill to the heart of anyone not familiar with its nature.

"Oh! whatever can that be?" cried Toby. "Sounded just like some poor feller calling for help."

"Elmer, you know; tell uth, pleath!" entreated Ted, with his usual lisp, which even the alarm that was seizing hold of him now could not dissipate.

"Well, I declare, I'm surprised to think that none of you fellows ever heard an owl hoot before!" laughed the scout leader of the Wolf Patrol.

"An owl—that only a poor little dickey of an owl!" cried Toby.

"Yes, it sounds just like the white owl we used to have up in Canada," continued Elmer, seriously. "And ten to one now, it was what Chatz here saw in that brush alongside the road. Of course it had staring yellow eyes; and in the dim light he must have fancied he saw an arm waving at him. That was only a shadow, Chatz. So come along, let's get back to the fire."

"Well, anyway, it looked mighty spooky," declared the Southern boy, stubbornly.

And he persisted in this attitude, even when some of his companions, who might not have been one half so brave as Chatz, if ever put to the test, began to "josh" him because of his recent alarm.

Mr. Garrabrant, accompanied by Elmer, went the rounds to ascertain just how the boys had erected their tents. He found little cause for complaint, since the young assistant scout master had drilled the members of the troop in this science, and they had it down quite pat, at least so far as theory went.

While the Boy-Scout movement of to-day has little to do with military tactics, still discipline is taught; and numerous things that soldiers employ in their daily