The Pine Tree Inn was once a tavern and stagecoach shop before the Revolutionary War. Later, it was converted to a private residence. The sprawling red-clapboard home has welcomed many families in its almost four-hundreds years, yet some people have felt very unwelcome indeed. One night just before Halloween, came to the old inn to baby sit for the Armstrong family. The three little girls had done their homework, and were already in their pajamas and ready for bed. The Armstrong’s left for their dinner engagements. Around nine o'clock, with all three girls tucked safely into bed, Harper settled in front of the television to watch a movie.
About fifteen minutes later, Harper suddenly felt chilled to the bone. She set her cola on the end table and checked the thermostat. The room temperature was set to 70 degrees, and she could hear the oil burner chugging along in the basement. "Hmmn, that's strange," she thought. "It's freezing in here." She found an afghan on the back of the couch and settled back to watch television.
A few minutes later, she heard heavy footsteps on the stairs leading from the kitchen to the second floor. "Katie? Elizabeth? Laurel?" she called out the three children's names. The footsteps seemed to be coming closer. "Are you girls playing a trick on me?" Abruptly, the light on the end table flickered, flared and went out.
Harper checked the kitchen and the hallway. It was even colder back there than in the living room. Nobody was there. She shook her head and went upstairs. All three girls were sound asleep. She returned to the living room.
"Hmmm, that's funny," she said as she looked at the television. "I thought I left it on Channel 2. It's on Channel 4 now." These were the days before remote controls, so she walked over to the television and put it back on Channel 2. She sat back in the chair.
Suddenly the knob began to turn on its own switching to channel 4, 7… and then static.
A voice whispered through the TV, "Get out."
With a shriek, Harper pulled the plug from the television. Mrs. Armstrong found her upstairs, curled in her afghan, asleep at the foot of the children's beds. "Harper, are you all right?"
"T-t-take me home," Harper cried. "This place is haunted!"