When you first walk into a room in a house, or into a stable, they have a way of telling you they know you’re there. It ain’t nothing particular noticeable, but the air inside of ‘em changes like it’s saying, “I’m watching you.” But I’d got into this stable so quiet and sneakish that nothing knowed I’d cracked open the door, held my breath, and took a step inside. Then I heard a humming sound so near that my blanged legs and breathing frozed up all over again. Whatever it was that was making that sound was so close that even my eyeballs locked where they were at. Then I started sliding my eyes off to the left. Someone had leaned some dark bundles or sacks up ‘gainst the left hand side of the stable. There were five of ‘em. The noise commenced again, sounding like someone fishing ‘round trying to figure which song they were ‘bout to hum. It was one of the bundles! It had four live, moving arms! I couldn’t believe I’d come all they way to the United States of America to see my first haint!