A ghost prank by a bunch of youngster goes horribly wrong when one of them gets fatally injured by a loaded revolver. Was it really an accident or was it a pre-planned murder? Excerpt: Moy was about the same age, around twenty-five; small of stature, quick and eager in eye and movement. Tark, the third man, struck such a different note that at first glance one would have taken him for a foreigner. Moy liked Haliburton, but he did not care for his companion, whom he had met in his company a couple of times lately. But, though he did not like Tark, Moy was interested in the man. For the young solicitor was writing a play in secret, and was keenly interested in finding characters for it. Haliburton, he had decided, was no earthly good to a writer. Rich. Easy going. Kindly…but this other, the chap with the name that suited him somehow–because it rhymed with shark probably, Moy decided–he might be very useful. He turned to him now.