house, which in the daylight certainly looked 
harmless enough with its singing birds, was the 
abode of one, if not of two, ghosts. They said that 
the spirits of Lipsey and of the man he had killed 
came after nightfall to wander through the 
rooms, or romp about the garret, or set the creak- 
ing old rocking-chair swaying before the empty 
fireplace. People could be found who had even 
caught glimpses of the ghosts in the old window 
openings, or had heard them scream, when late 
at night the moon was low in the west. 
None of these stories had come to me when 
I went to the place that day at the request of a 
distant heir. So, except for a casual look 
through the lower rooms, I did not explore many 
of the nooks and crannies of the old building. 
Had I done so, I would have found something 
that few people have ever seen. 
That night back in Harrisburg I was the 
guest of a camera club. As I have long been 
interested in taking pictures out-of-doors, I was 
asked to give a little talk and to tell the mem- 
bers about some of the subjects that might be 
photographed with good results. The club was 
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