the ghost was very frightened, of course, and ran to the stairs. But Washington Otis was waiting for him there, with a big garden-syringe. There were enemies on all side! Aaaagh! the ghost cried, then turned quickly and disappeared into the fireplace, which, luckily for him, was not lit. When at last he got back to him room, he was terribly dirty, with black all over his favourite shroud, and very unhappy.