The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1893-08-27
Drugs and oiiet-
TIL MAE.
Market, Taylor and Golden Gate Avenue.
A GHOST STORY.

One morning the head of our firm re-
marked: "Mr. Nelson'-my name, by
the way. is John Nelson, and very good
and bold name it isl want you to go up
to Greeuyille and take those dispositions in
the Shindler case. Catch the night train
back or stay until morning. as you
prefer"
Many people 60 to Greenville once.
Nobody goes second time if he can help
it. l remembered in a vague sort of way
that Greenvlle had come into notoriety
for day or two a few years before
through reason of hotel fire, in which at
least one man had persisted so successfully
as TO justify the newspaper use of the
word holocaust However, this need not
alarm me. as intended to return ON the
night express. l like to travel at night
There is such a comforting, ghost-dispell-
ing sound in the snores of my fellow pas
Sengers.
Fate was against me. My business. in
deed. was quickly and easily dispatched,
and at o'clock / was at the station. only
to learn that serious washout was re-
ported up the road and that all trains had
been abandoned for the night There was
no help for it, and back l went to the
hotel. which, suggeStively enough, was
cheerful view OF the situation. as was per-
haps natural. He gave me the best drink
at the bar, which was bad enough, and
the best room in the house, which was not
so bad.
l am light sleeper, another result of a
nervous organization. and the circum-
stances under which l was sleeping in n
strange bed in a strangeutown were not
likely to deaden my 81 mbers. What
awoke me l cannot say, but my first recol-
lection is that of sitting up in bed, holding
my pistol in my hand ana looking with
considerable astopishment at the dim out-
line of a man apparently slowing away
clothing in great haste in an ordinary
gripsack. That the man was a burglar
and that he was taking unwarrantable
liberties with my possessions | had not
the slightest doubt. My caImness under
such trying conditions surprised me. /
remember experiencing actual pleasure in
cooking and aiming my revolver. The
click of the lock alarmed him. He turned
hastily and said in tone so thin that 1t
seemed to come from great distance:
Here, don't shoot, please"
Enough light came In through the win
dow from lamp across the street to
enable me to see the fellow more closely
as he turned. He was appallingly thin
the merest shadow, in fact-wth sunken
cheeks and the glowing spectral eyes that
Lena had told me about thirty years
before. | saw that he was no match for
ME physically, and it was plain that he was
unarmed. So | said, facetously:
You are not built for your calling. my
friend. You would do better as ghost
than a burglar.
And the reply came, nfully and
hollow: 81 am a ghost"
You'll excuse me-" said the ghost. eff
go right on with my packing-but time
flies"
pardon thesbluntness of the question"
! answered, feeling under the pillow for
my watch, but in the pressure of time
are you hacking up any of my things by
n stake%
IF ynu knew anything at all about
Spirits" said the ghost, carefully brushing
aud folding a coat, ''you would know that
they are strictly and invariably honest and
were ever known to appropriate any arti-
Gle not belonging to them"
Thanks - said l. considerably relieved
by the assurance. Now may l ask who
you ale, and to what / am indebted for
this unexpected pleasure?"
The ghost glided over to the washstand.
gathered up toothbrush and cake of
soap and tossed them into the bag. Then
he answered:
ut doesn't matter who l am. / was
Richard Barnard, aud all of me that was