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then they set fire to the house.”
    There was silence.
    “And so Sarah Sligo died,” Fay said at last.
    “Yes.”
    “And the ghost?” Fay’s voice was low. “What about the ghost?”
    Trixie moved restlessly. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Fay,” she said hurriedly. “I expect it’s just one of those silly stories that get passed around when people have nothing better to do.”
    Honey clasped her hands around her bent knees and glanced across at their new friend. “You’ve never seen a ghost here, have you, Fay?” she asked.
    Fay didn’t seem to be listening. It was as if she were following some thought of her own. All at once, she lifted her head and gazed steadily at Trixie. “And now tell me about the curse,” she said softly.
    Trixie had been half prepared for this particular question and had already decided not to answer it. “I don’t know anything about a curse, Fay,” she lied blandly.
    Honey’s eyes opened wide. “Why, Trix! You do, too! You told me that before she died, Sarah Sligo swore she would get her revenge. She placed a curse on this house and on everyone who would ever live in it—” She stopped in horror, clapping a hand to her mouth.
    “It’s all right, Honey,” Fay said quietly. “I only needed someone to confirm what I already knew.”
    “What do you know, Fay?” Trixie asked.
    Fay bit her lip. “I know that it’s bad luck to live in this house,” she replied. “I know that the first Lisgard who ever lived here went walking in the marsh one day and was never seen again. I know there was something funny about the death of the last owner, old Caleb Lisgard—”
    Honey frowned. “I hadn’t heard that. What sort of something funny?”
    “I’m not sure,” Fay answered, “but everyone in town has been talking about it for weeks.”
    Trixie made a mental note to ask Brian later. Perhaps he’d heard something about it.
    “And what’s more,” Fay continued, “we—my mother and I—haven’t had much luck lately, either. Last week I almost fell as I was coming downstairs. And now tonight”—her eyes filled with tears—“Mother’s in the hospital with a broken hip.”
    Both Trixie and Honey scrambled out of bed and hurried to Fay’s side.
    “You mustn’t listen to stupid stories about this house anymore,” Trixie said firmly.
    “And I shouldn’t have told you about the curse,” Honey added, looking as if she was close to tears herself. She put her arm around her new friend. “I’m sure that your mother merely had a nasty accident. It didn’t have anything to do with this house, or any stupid old curse, or any silly old witch.”
    “Honey’s right,” Trixie said. “There’re lots and lots of stories about spooky happenings in this part of the world. We’ve even had some spooky adventures, ourselves. For instance, did we ever tell you about the night we met a headless horseman in the woods?” She wiggled her eyebrows at Honey.
    “Oh, sure,” Honey said, realizing that Trixie wanted to distract Fay from her fears. “Then there was the time when we saw a ghostly galleon near an old pirate’s hideaway.”
    Fay looked from one to the other. “A headless horseman?” she echoed. “A ghostly galleon?” Honey nodded. “Would you like us to tell you about them?”
    Fay moved her legs to make room for the two friends on her bed. “I know what you’re doing,” she said, smiling through her tears, “and you’re very kind. So, yes, I’d like to hear about them.”
    “And when we’ve finished those,” Honey said with satisfaction, “remind me to tell you of the times we discovered an abandoned baby and searched for a phantom grasshopper!”
    It was very late when Honey finished the last exciting story. Fay was already yawning, and politely trying to hide the fact, while Trixie’s legs had long since gone to sleep. The rest of her was ready to join them.
    “Would you like me to tell you now about the time Trixie saw a shark in the Hudson