There Was a Logical Explanation for the
Ghostly Doings in This Haunted House
THE HAUNTED MANSION
IN THE PINES
THE HAUNTED Mansion stood in a lonely pine grove, just on the edge of a large old Connecticut town. That the house was haunted there seemed to be no doubt, for the different families who had been induced to occupy it all moved away after a short stay. Strange noises were heard during the night, and peculiar things happened. Only a short time ago, a farmer passing the house late at night was badly scared by a horrible wailing, which was followed by an inhuman laugh.
How long the mansion had possessed the reputation of being haunted, no one seemed to know. It was built just before the Civil War, and the owner was found murdered in his bed a few years later. He had been well-to-do, and lived alone after his three sons went into the army, for the wife and mother had died the same year the house had been built. Only one of the sons lived to come home. Arriving the day of his father's funeral, the boy was grief-stricken. He spent the night alone in the house, and the next day some workmen, passing along the road, were attracted by screaming, and the sound of running, then the smashing of glass. Rushing into the mansion, they found him putting his fists through all the window panes, and laughing insanely as the glass broke under the blows.
"They killed my father, and now I'm killing them,” he shouted at the top of his voice.
He was overpowered by the men, and passed the remainder of his days a frothing maniac.
At night the mansion had an extremely dismal appearance. Standing back from the road a hundred feet or more, surrounded by great pine trees, it looked strangely forbidding to the townspeople passing that way to their homes, in the dark. Many a man and woman quickened their pace on coming near the Haunted Mansion, and instinctively looked back over their shoulders, as if expecting to find something horrible at their heels.
During the late world war the house was unoccupied for more than two years. No one in the town could be induced to rent it, so the owner's agent was compelled to advertise in out-of-town newspapers. He offered a very low rental, and would give one month's rent free to anyone willing to lease the place for at least six months.
It so happened that a man and his wife, in a city nearby chanced to read this advertisement and were impressed with the terms and the glowing description of the house. The husband was a writer, recuperating from an illness. This seemed to them an opportunity to spend a few pleasant months in the country, which would be beneficial to both. Accordingly, all arrangements having been completed by mail, the Drakes arrived, with a servant, on the first day of May. Mrs. Drake brought with her a pet monkey, to which she was very much attached. The house was always let furnished, so their only baggage consisted of two or three trunks, and some hand luggage.
The Haunted Mansion consisted of two stories of eight rooms each, an attic and a large cellar. At the rear, a coachman's house was joined to the main building. A door led from the cellar of the house to the unused stable, under the coachman's quarters. Drake and his wife occupied two connecting rooms on the second floor, and the maid had a smaller one on the same floor, in the rear. On the first floor were their dining room, living room, kitchen, and library. The other rooms they did not use. The house was lighted by gas. In the cellar was a large hot-air furnace; store rooms, rows of shelves for preserves; a coal bin, and several cords of old wood. A dozen jars of jam stood on one of the shelves, mute evidence of somebody's hasty departure.
To anyone not acquainted with the awful history of the house, its appearance was attractive, and the Drakes congratulated themselves on obtaining such a beautiful place on such reasonable terms.
They were at breakfast after their first night in the house, when Hannah, the girl, startled them by saying that the milkman had acted very queer that morning. He had winked at her knowingly, and remarked that he didn't expect to have them as customers very long. "I wonder what he meant by that?" Drake asked of his wife. "I'm sure I don't know," she replied absently.
At about ten o'clock that night, the three occupants of the old mystery house retired. The lights had been extinguished, and in a short time they were all asleep. Some time later, Drake was startled out of a dream. He sat up in bed, and listened. He could have sworn that he had heard footsteps outside his door. There they were now. Very softly at first, and then quite loud, they seemed to go up and down the hall. It was possibly the maid, or his wife. To satisfy himself, he got out of bed. Stumbling across the room in the dark, he struck a match. Peering into the next room, he found his wife peacefully sleeping. The match went out, and he made his way back to the bed and sat down. In a short time, he again heard the sound of footsteps. He trembled a little as he lit another match. He opened the door cautiously and peered out. The moonlight streamed in through the back window, and he could see faintly down the long hallway. The big house was as still as death. He could see nothing strange, and went back to bed, quite puzzled. The next morning he mentioned the incident to the women, but neither had been disturbed during the night, nor had they left their rooms.
In the afternoon, Hannah went to the cellar for a glass of jelly. The Drakes were accustomed to having tea, with bread and jelly, about four o'clock each day. Seated in the library at a small table, they were surprised by a wild scream, and the sound of someone run-
