This could be a tale, but it has a location and relative detail. And it happens in January!
Mexican Ghost Stories. By Douglas Grahame.
[…] Guadalajara is the location of a queer house. The dwelling is a misfortune for its owner. It is a pretty place, of most modern type and with all conveniences and in a choice section of the city. The landlord offers it rent free for three months, including light and water gratis. But nobody wants to live there. For a while it was not difficult to find tenants, even though one family after another moved in but left after a short stay. The place has a bad reputation; it seems to be haunted by creatures that throw stones and k nock at windows.
A railroad conductor and his considerable family were the last tenants. He says that all went well during the first two weeks they lived in the house. Then when he returned from a “run” his wife advised him that something seemed to be wrong with the roof as there were frequently sounds of falling pebbles. He made a thorough investigation of the roof but found it to be in excellent condition.
When he next came home his wife reported that two of the children had been struck by stones while playing in the yard, but that she had failed to discover the thrower. She also mentioned hearing knocks at windows and doors without a trace of the knockers. The husband laughed at these stories, inasmuch as the children had not been hurt.
But his mirth vanished and he began to wonder when he himself was struck by a stone while he was pottering in the garden one afternoon. The children were at school and his wife and the two servants were busy in the house. He thought that perhaps the “mozo” (boy of all jobs) was having a little joke. But that youth was on an errand far from the house when the stone was thrown. A high wall surrounded the part of the garden where the man was when he was struck and there was no point of vantage from which a stone could be thrown without the thrower being immediately detected. The man was driven in panic into the house when he was struck by other stones.
Upon his next return his wife had alarming news for him. One of the children had been badly hurt in the face by a hurled pebble while playing in the yard. While the mother was dressing this wound in a room which contained another young child, the two servants, and the mozo, a sharp rap came at one of the closed doors. She answered the door, but it opened into a deserted hall. The mother had just finished dressing the child’s hurt when there came a loud knock at the other door of the room. Again, there was no one at the door. She led the children and the servants in a search of the house. The front and rear doors were locked and the windows shut and bolted and so was the skylight, for it was a cold January day. There was no possible way for a prankster to enter.
Terror reigned in the household. The servants fell upon their knees and stammered prayers to their patron saints. In the midst of this the eldest son, a lad of fifteen came home. The mother and he made a tour of inspection of the place. While they were in a bedroom on the second floor the window pane was shaken by a loud knock. The boy had enough courage to dash to the window, even before the glass had ceased vibrating, and to throw it up and look out. The knocker could not be discovered. There was a sheer drop of about thirty feet to the ground from the sill and the window was a dozen feet from the roof. No ladders were in place and it would have been difficult for even the finest athlete to scale the wall of the house to that window. There were other mysterious knocks at windows and doors during the afternoon. The servants could not be induced to remain longer in the place.
When the man of the house returned he gathered the family in the parlour for prayer. But during these devotions pebbles fell from the ceiling and there were loud knocks at intervals at both doors of the chamber. The conductor was convinced that something was wrong with the house and he decided to move forthwith. He and his wife and children reached the street without incident. He had just locked the front gate when there was a sharp knock from the inside. Thinking that perhaps one of the children had lagged behind and been locked in the garden he unlocked the gate and looked in. No one was there. This was evidently a parting shot from the spectres.
The Rosicrucian Magazine, June 1936.