Ghosts don't hang aroun' a place when there ain't nothin' to ha'nt.

Her son-in-law was hung, an' she ain't got no one else to pester.

I tell you it's tramps." "Well, we just thought we'd tell you, Mr.Crow," said the first boy.
In a few minutes it was known throughout the business centre of Tinkletown that tramps were making their home in the haunted house down the river, and that Anderson Crow was to ride forth on his bicycle to rout them out.

The haunted house was three miles from town and in the most desolate section of the bottomland.

It was approachable only through the treacherous swamp on one side or by means of the river on the other.