End of last post:

"There is nothing like the lure of a haunted house to draw a group of young sleuths out on a warm summer night. So, on the evening of my story, we decided to bundle our collective courage and spend the night in the old house. We stuffed our backpacks full of everything we could think of we might need to survive our adventure. We also packed enough fireworks to start a small war for a front lawn party. Haunted houses can't just be entered straight away, you see. You have to work your way up to them."

The Story Continues:

"We soon arrived at a rather expansive and neglected front lawn just before dusk. We made a pile of all our backpacks beneath an enormous towering oak that stood about 200 yards from the front gate of the mansion. From where we stood, we could only catch glimpses of the castle-like building, hidden, as it was, behind scores of tangled trees and undergrowth. Still, its very presence sent a chill down our spines.

"The tree we camped beneath was amazing to look at. In the growing dark, its huge overhanging branches gave the appearance of an old man bending and standing, bending and standing, swaying with the breeze.

"As the wind blew, the old tree seemed to rock back and forth, picking up and putting things down, or as Tabby said, digging up dirt and slinging it over his massive green shoulders. The wind, screeching through its branches, gave the illusion that the old man was whistling as he worked. What was he working so hard at digging up, we wondered, or was it something he was burying?

"Close by the tree, but carefully not directly beneath, we built a small campfire. It was not necessary for warmth, but would serve as a source of fire for the fireworks, and as light for a game we would play later. After piling up all of our ammunition, we began to set off the tantalizing smoke filled displays. It took a full two hours to launch them all.

"When we finished, it was totally dark outside except for, of course, around our small campfire. As a precaution, and from weeks of tradition, we pulled out flashlights and placed them on the ground close by. We sat together on a few logs we had pulled in near the blaze.

"And now, I would like to turn the story over to my little sister, Sally, to tell about the Courage Game and our ultimate approach to the house. Sally, if you would, please."

Sally rose quietly from her seat and walked to the podium, her dark head bowed as though in thought. After a pause, she looked up, her face alight with childlike wonder. Dark hair framed a face that reflected the image of Nancy, though smaller and more sharply defined.

"I am honored and humbled to be given first turn to tell the story," she began. "I would say I don't know why, but I do; however you'll find more out about that later. First, I need to explain the game, which is something my father invented long ago, and had became a tradition for our group.

"It always started out after dark, and beside a light source, like the campfire we built that night. Each participant got a stone colored their favorite color. This she or he held tightly and walked out into the dark as far as possible before getting scared or accidently dropping it.

"As soon as the stone hit the ground, whoever's turn it was returned to the group. When the last had dropped their stone, the one who got the farthest won the coveted, Courage Trophy, built by my husband Bruce, long before he joined our group.

"I had never won before, but decided I was going to that night. I had grown weary of watching other hands receive the trophy, knowing that I needed to learn courage. I was, after all, a Daredevil Girl.

"Each girl took her turn holding a small penlight and her stone. First went Elizabeth, who happened upon a swaying tree she took for a man. Terrified, she dropped her stone and ran back.

"Next was our resident country girl, Becky, who had problems with clumsiness at the time. It seems her legs were outgrowing the rest of her body. She tripped on a root after passing Elizabeth's stone, dropping hers to the ground with a squeal of disappointment.

"Tabby went next, and the farthest, but was distracted by a small gray kitten beside the path which she was determined to rescue. She left her stone and returned, clutching a mewing kitten with a hurt paw. She told us she had decided to name it Sage after the sage bush she found it in, and we took a break while she tended to it.

"Once the break was over, it was Nancy's turn, but it didn't last long as she tripped over a root and flung her stone backwards. It grazed Elizabeth's head as it soared past her like an angry eagle.

"Finally, it was my turn. I grasped my pink stone and headed off down the path toward the formidable mansion. I'm not afraid to admit I was petrified, but, young people, you must know, courage is not the lack of fear, but the overcoming of it.

"I heard the creaking of trees whipped by wind, crickets squeaking nearby, the screech of a crow, and a host of other frightening noises. I could smell the odor of decay and the sulfurous remains of our fireworks. I felt the warm sting of wind.

"All I could not do was see--that is anything besides a tiny spot covered by an even tinier flashlight. I tried to keep my beam on the path ahead so as to not repeat my companions' mishaps.

"I smiled as I passed Elizabeth's red stone, Becky's green, and finally Tabby's orange. Nancy's blue was still on the ground somewhere behind the starting point. I paused a moment and let the moment overtake me.

"I felt the exhilaration of having won start deep within my solar plexus, and quickly spread throughout my body. I could see the trophy clutched in my young hands, and knew I would return in victory, and then join the others where we could approach the house as a united group. The game was over--or was it?

"Something inside me made me turn and point the beam of my flashlight towards the mansion. It was so close... I began to walk forward and away from the safety of my friends. Closer and closer I crept toward the sinister house.

"At first, I think it was pride that drove me, and then later, I realized it was something more deadly. Something or someone in the house was pulling me onward. I was no longer afraid as I continued to walk.

"Finally, I made it all the way through an old iron gate and up to a heavy wooden door. I reached a tiny hand up and knocked. I don't know why I bothered, as the house was supposed to be empty, but it seemed the proper thing to do.

"To my surprise, the door slowly creaked inward. I took a deep gasping breath and peered inside. Somewhere in the distance, I seemed to hear my sister calling my name. I wanted to turn around and run back to her, boldly declaring the trophy as mine, but that same force that pulled me towards the house now held me in its powerful grasp."