What was it that had awakened Billie Bradley?
Hardly had the girl asked herself that question when she heard it—a padding, stealthy, creeping noise that made her clutch the bed clothes and draw them tighter about her.
Then in a panic she realized that whatever it was had started upstairs.
Nearer, nearer came the stealthy padding, till Billie realized it had reached the landing. Her scalp crept and her hair began to stand on end. Her door was the nearest to the stairs, and she was all alone in the house with Chet!
Swiftly, she threw off the covers, jumped out of bed, and with her limbs trembling under her, ran to the door and softly turned the key in the lock.
Then she leaned weakly against the door and listened for the noise, but it had stopped. Evidently the burglar, if burglar it was, had paused to get his bearings.
Then another horrible thought struck her. Chet was sleeping in the next room, and Chet's door was unlocked!
On feet that seemed too weak to hold her she crept into Chet's room—luckily there was a connecting door between—and softly turned the key in his door also.
Evidently she was just in time, for as she listened the stealthy noise began again and it was coming toward the very door she had just locked.
She uttered a little involuntary sound, and Chet sat up in bed with a start.
"Wh-what's up?" he demanded sleepily.
"Oh, hush," cried Billie. Scurrying to his bed and leaning over, she whispered the awful words: "There's a burglar in the house, Chet."
"A burglar?" repeated Chet, wide awake by this time. "Who says so?"
"Don't be foolish! Didn't I hear him myself?" cried Billie in a desperate whisper. "Oh, Chet, he's on the stairs outside."
"Well, why doesn't he come in? Is he bashful?" queried Chet, seeming not in the least alarmed. Billie shook him impatiently.
"He probably would have come in if I hadn't locked the doors," she told him impatiently. "For goodness' sake, Chet, wake up and tell me what to do. He may have stolen everything we own by this time."
"Hush," cried Chet, grasping her arm, and in a tense silence they listened.
Yes, they could not be mistaken—something was surely brushing against the door.
Thank heaven, she had locked it, thought Billie, as she began to feel her hair stand on end again.
Once more came that brushing sound. And then, very distinctly, a sniff!
"Oh, Chet," cried Billie, clutching her brother's arm spasmodically.
"Nervy beggar," muttered Chet. "If I had a gun I'd know what to do. But say," he added, as a happy thought struck him, "there's Dad's!" He was out of bed and across the room before Billie could do more than gasp. Fearfully she followed after.
Luckily Chet had elected to sleep in his parents' room during their absence so as to be nearer Billie, and he had happened to remember the secret hiding place that his father had shown him not long before where he kept his revolver always loaded and ready for action.
"Oh, Chet, do be careful!" whispered Billie, as Chet drew the ugly-looking thing out of the hidden drawer and examined it. "I—I think I'm more afraid of that than I am of the b-burglar."
Chet's only answer was a grim "Come on," from between set young lips.Fearfully they made their way over to the door.
Their burglar seemed to have gone on to some other room, for they could hear the stealthy padding at the other end of the hall. But now he had turned in their direction.
Very carefully Chet turned the key in the lock, and then, while Billie pressed both hands over her heart to quiet its pounding, Chet flung open the door and stepped into the hall. Billie was right at his heels.
And then the impossible thing happened. A dark shape coming slowly toward them stopped at sight of them and uttered a low bark.
Yes, the sound that issued from their supposed burglar was a very distinct and friendly canine bark.
For a minute Chet and Billie just stared speechlessly. Then slowly the revolver in Chet's hand dropped to his side and he began to laugh. It was a weak laugh at first, but it gradually swelled into a roar as he took in the full humor of the situation.
And Billie, after a moment during which she seemed undecided whether to laugh or cry, presently joined him.
"A dog!" gasped Chet, when he could get his breath. "Come here, old man, and let's have a look at you."
The dog that had caused all the disturbance came forward at Chet's command and stood looking up at them, his handsome brush waving genially.
As the light of a street lamp shining through the window fell upon him,Billie uttered an exclamation.
"Why, it's Bruce—Nellie Bane's collie," she cried. "How in the world did he ever get in? Come here, Bruce, old boy, and explain yourself."
Obediently Bruce went over to her and laid a cold muzzle in her hand, his soft eyes looking lovingly into her face. For Billie had made much of Bruce on her frequent visits to Nellie Bane, and the dog, with the instinct of his kind, had developed a great liking for her—though the first in his loyal dog's heart was Nellie Bane, his mistress.
"You're a great one!" Chet scoffed. "You get a fellow all worked up to catch a burglar, and then you produce a dog. I think you did it on purpose."
"Yes, and I suppose I scared myself half to death on purpose too," said Billie sarcastically, as she patted the dog's great head. "Where are you going?" she asked, as Chet started back into his room.
"To put this thing where I got it," he explained, holding up the pistol from which Billie shrank back. "Don't imagine we'll have any further need of it to-night."
"Wait a minute," ordered Billie, and Chet turned back surprised. "We haven't found out yet how Bruce got in," she explained, looking fearfully over her shoulder, for the effects of her fright had not quite left her yet. "Don't you think we'd better take that along while we look through the house? We must have left a door or a window open somewhere. Bruce couldn't have come through the wall, you know."
"Something—I don't know what it can be—makes me agree with you," returned Chet sarcastically, but he turned to the stairs nevertheless, "Come on," he said. "If we have left a window open it is high time that that window was shut. Go ahead, Bruce, and show us where you got in—that's a good old boy."
At the best it was rather an eerie business—searching through the empty house at that time of night—and it was especially nerve-trying for Billie after the fright she had had.
And then they found it. The French window that opened from the dining-room upon the porch was swinging wide open—a wonderful invitation to enter for any sneak thief who might happen to pass that way.
Billie shivered again as Chet, with a final pat, put Bruce outside and closed and locked the window.
"There, I guess we won't have any more visitors to-night," he said, as they started through the dark living-room to the stairs.
"Let's hope not," returned Billie fervently.
When they reached their rooms upstairs they felt too excited for sleep, and sat for a long time talking over the incident.
They could laugh now at their surprise in meeting friendly Bruce instead of a very unfriendly house-breaker, but more than once both of them caught themselves listening for sounds in the silent house below.
"It was just luck," said Billie, as she rose at last to go to bed, "that it was Bruce that happened to find that open window instead of—of some one else!"
Chet and Billie were very careful to leave neither doors nor windows unlocked, and the rest of the week passed without further mishap.
Then one morning came a telegram from their parents saying that they would be home the next day.
"Goodness, now I have to get busy!" cried Billie, jumping up from the table in such a hurry that she very nearly upset Chet's coffee cup, thereby considerably surprising that boy.
"Say, do you think it's catching?" he asked, with a smile. "What's the matter with you, Billie?"
"Oh, of course you wouldn't understand—you're a boy," remarked his sister condescendingly, as she put on the becoming dust cap and pulled some gloves on her hands.
"Don't you see," she added, as Chet continued to stare at her, "that this house has to be immaculate before mother gets back? I've simply got to live up to my reputation."
"Never knew you had one," remarked Chet cruelly, as he turned back to his bacon and eggs with a relieved sigh. "If you need any help," he offered graciously, as Billie swept out of the room, "just call on me."
"Thank you, I don't," called back Billie, making a face at him over her shoulder.
And then followed such a whirlwind of sweeping and dusting and throwing about of furniture that poor Chet was dismayed and was forced to take refuge on the porch.
However, when Billie, flushed and breathless and very, very pretty, took him by the arm and led him about to admire her handiwork, he told her that she was "some wonder."
"Now how about lunch?" he asked, and Billie, appetite sharpened by work, enthusiastically agreed.
It seemed an eternity to wait until the next morning, but somehow the time came at last, finding brother and sister on tip-toe with excitement.
Long before it was time to go to meet the train, they were ready and waiting. Billie was swinging back and forth in the porch swing, grasping a cushion in each hand to keep her from jumping out, while Chet walked restlessly up and down.
"If you don't sit down," said Billie so suddenly that her brother jumped,"I'll just scream."
"Well go ahead, if it will make you feel any better," invited Chet amiably. However, for the sake of peace he seated himself in one of the broad armed chairs.
"Isn't it train time yet?" asked Billie, as she had asked many times during the last fifteen minutes.
"Here," said Chet, handing over his watch, "take this and keep looking at it. My voice is getting hoarse saying 'no.'"
"But I don't see why we can't go down to the station anyway," argued Billie.
"Only that it's about a hundred times more comfortable to wait here."
"But we might miss the train," wailed Billie, and Chet jumped to his feet with a chuckle.
"Oh, come on," he cried. "We've missed the train several times according to you. In a minute you will almost have me worried."
"You're a dear old bear," said Billie, snuggling her arm into his as they set off.
"You certainly do have a way with you, Billie, that gets you what you want," he admitted, adding meaningly: "Besides, I'm thinking I'd better keep on the right side of you just now."
"Why?" asked Billie, puzzled.
"In case Aunt Beatrice left you something. You were her namesake, remember."
Billie glanced up at him, an eager look in her eyes. But her glance fell again and she shook his arm severely.
"What's the use of raising hopes?" she said dolefully, as a vision of the broken "Girl Reading a Book" rose reproachfully before her and she thought longingly of how happy she could be if it were only possible to replace it.
And there was Three Towers Hall—but she shook off the thought and had opened her mouth to speak when the sharp blast of an engine whistle made them jump.
"Chet," she gasped, "it's the train! We mustn't miss it."
"We can make it if we run," said Chet, as he took hold of her arm. "Come on! No, not that way—the short cut. That's the idea."
Warm and panting they came out upon the station platform just as the train drew in. They watched the passengers eagerly, but not at first seeing those they sought, had almost decided that they were coming on a later train when away down at the end of the platform, Billie espied a familiar hat.
"There they are! Mother!" she cried, as they came within hailing distance. "We thought you weren't on the train. Oh, what a fright we had!"
After the greetings were over Chet and Billie both noticed that their parents seemed to be in a state of suppressed excitement, and both of them wondered.
However, they had too much to talk about just then to do much wondering about anything, and they walked slowly toward home, asking and answering a very flood of questions.
Mrs. Bradley wanted to know how Billie had got along without her, at which both Chet and Billie tried to tell the story of Nellie Bane's collie at the same time and in the same breath.
When they had finished Mr. Bradley chuckled, but Mrs. Bradley looked grave.
"It happened to be funny," she said. "But it might have been very serious. I hope you were careful after that."
"Were we!" they cried, and Billie added with a laugh: "We locked and double locked all the windows and doors, and if it hadn't been for Chet I would have piled furniture against the doors. But we want to know what you've been doing," she cried, turning to her mother eagerly. "Tell us, please, quick. We've been waiting so long."
Again Mr. Bradley laughed and pinched his impatient young daughter's cheek.
"I think our news can wait till we get to the house," he said.
"ButIcan't," protested Billie.
"Anybody would think you really expected to hear something," chuckled Mr.Bradley, who seemed to be enjoying himself immensely over something.
"Oh, please," begged Billie, almost beside herself with impatience by this time—and Chet, in his quiet way, was just as bad. There was something about their mother's and father's manner that told them something was in the wind.
"I'm just dying by inches," went on Billie.
But this time it was Mrs. Bradley who interrupted.
"Here we are at home, dear," she said. "Can't you give Dad and me a chance to rest, and give us perhaps a cup of tea—"
"Oh, I'm a selfish old beast!" said Billie penitently. "I might have known you would be terribly tired after that long train ride!"
And still scolding herself she hurried them before her into the house and flew to find Debbie. She had not far to go, however, for Debbie was just lumbering, like a good-natured elephant, through the hall to greet her master and mistress. As soon as the greetings were over she lumbered back again to make the necessary tea.
Billie and Chet controlled their impatience, answering the questions their mother had to ask them about all that had happened while they had been away, for Mrs. Bradley had been anxious.
When they finally left the table and Mrs. Bradley led the way back into the library, Billie uttered a long sigh of relief.
"Well," said Mrs. Bradley, and they leaned forward eagerly, "we found that what we always supposed about the amount of money Aunt Beatrice had was right. She left only a few thousand, and that—queer soul that she was—she left to a missionary society."
"Oh!" cried Billie, and it must be admitted that she both felt and looked horribly disappointed. She had not known just how much she had hoped, both for herself and for Chet, until this moment. And Chet, poor fellow, felt just as bad, although he showed it less.
"Then she didn't leave anything either to you or Dad?" Chet asked.
"No. But she did leave something to you and Billie," was Mrs. Bradley's startling announcement.
Billie and Chet looked at one another as if to be sure that they had heard aright.
"You say she left us something?" cried Billie breathlessly.
"Yes. But don't let your hopes run away with you," Mr. Bradley warned them, "for it wasn't very much."
"Oh, tell us," the two commanded eagerly and in unison.
"She left a gold watch to Chet," Mrs. Bradley told them. "It is really a very beautiful watch, Chet, and worth a good deal of money. And to Billie—" She paused for emphasis and Billie wriggled impatiently. "And to Billie she left her rambling old homestead at Cherry Corners."
"A homestead at Cherry Corners!" gasped Billie, unable to believe her ears while Chet looked interested. "What sort of a house is it, Mother?"
"I haven't been there for a number of years," replied her mother, knitting her brows in an effort to recall the details of Billie's queer inheritance. "As I remember it, it is an old-fashioned rambling affair. It must have been considered rather handsome in its palmy years, and it has been in the Powerson family for generations. In fact, I believe it dates back to revolutionary days. It has great large rooms, and rather spooky, dark hallways. I'm afraid I wasn't very much impressed with it the first time I saw it," she finished, with a smile.
"Wh-what a funny thing to leave me," said Billie, her eyes big and round with wonder. Then she added, without thinking—as Billie always did: "Oh, don't I wish she had left me a hundred dollars instead! It would have been much more useful!"
Billie was instantly sorry for her speech, as she saw the old troubled expression cross her father's face.
"Forgive me, please!" she pleaded. "I think I must be the most ungrateful girl alive."
"Well, I should say so!" cried Chet, to whom the description of the queer old house, while dismaying his sister, had appealed immensely. "Say, I'd like nothing better than to go out right now and look your property over, Billie. Big rooms and spooky halls and—say, Mother, it must have a cellar and an attic. What are they like?"
"I suppose," said his mother, smiling at his enthusiasm, "that since you seem to like the ghostly part, you would be more than ever pleased with the attic and cellar."
"As I remember it, the cellar was the most peculiar part of the whole queer place. Aunt Beatrice took me through it, and seemed immensely proud of the funny old tunnels and store-rooms that were tucked away in all sort of odd corners. The only thing I liked about it," she finished, with a reminiscent smile, "was the shelf-lined, icy room where she kept her fruit preserves."
"This gets better and better!" fairly crowed Chet. "A damp, gloomy old cellar with tunnels and storerooms in queer corners and—But you were going to tell us about the attic."
"Yes, the attic!" cried Billie, for by this time Chet had made her as much interested in her strange inheritance as he was. "Did it have trunks in it, Mother—and cobwebs?"
"Trunks, yes, but not cobwebs," smiled her mother, "for Aunt Beatrice was an excellent housekeeper—when she was at home."
"Then the attic wasn't spooky?" queried Chet, disappointed.
"I should say it was!" returned his mother, with an emphasis that set all his fears at rest. "It was the creepiest place I have ever been in, and I was never gladder in my life than when we left it for the more cheerful lower floor—though goodness knows that was dreary enough."
"Say, when are we going?" cried Chet, jumping to his feet, his face flushed with eagerness.
"Where?" asked Mrs. Bradley.
"To Cherry Corners, of course," answered Chet in a tone which very plainly meant, "why ask such a foolish question?" "To the ghosts that inhabit the garret and cellar of Billie's new house."
"Hold on, hold on there!" cried Mr. Bradley, who had been listening to the proceedings in amused silence. "Do you happen to know how far Cherry Corners is from here?"
"Very far?" asked Billie.
"A whole day's ride, that's all," their father answered.
"Say, Dad," cried Chet suddenly. "What do you suppose the old place is worth?"
"I can't say, Chet," answered Mr. Bradley. "Being so far from good roads and the railroad, I am afraid the land is not worth much."
"But it must be worth something," persisted the boy.
Mr. Bradley smiled faintly.
"For Billie's sake let us hope so. But you must remember, in this state there are thousands of abandoned farms. Folks simply can't make a living on them, and so they move away."
"But the buildings must be worth something."
"To live in, yes, but that is all. You can't move an old stone house to some other spot."
"Why do they call it 'Cherry Corners?'" asked Billie, for she had been following a little train of thought all her own. "It's a very queer name."
"Oh, they come by it naturally enough," her mother answered. "It is surrounded by a grove of cherry trees and is near a crossing of two rocky roads. So you see the reason for 'Cherry Corners.'"
"Goodness, that sounds as if it were away off in the wilderness!" cried Billie, adding: "But wouldn't it be awful to have to live in that spooky old house all alone? Are there any houses near it, Mother?"
"Not one for more than a mile," said Mrs. Bradley. "They are almost as isolated now as they used to be in the old Indian days."
"Indians!" cried Chet, pricking up his ears again. "Did you say something about Indians, Mother?"
"Why, I've heard Aunt Beatrice say," answered Mrs. Bradley, beginning to share in her children's enthusiasm, "that the Powersons who originally built the house built it especially for the purpose of resisting Indian attacks. Now that I come to think of it," she added, her eyes beginning to shine with excitement, "that was the reason for the winding tunnels and secret rooms. As the last resort, the family could take refuge in them."
"Oh, boy!" cried Chet, springing to his feet for the second time. "Did you hear that, did you? Indian raids and—oh, gosh!" Words failed him and he sank back in his chair with a sigh of joy.
"Isn't it wonderful!" breathed Billie. "At first I was disappointed but now—Is that all she left, Mother?"
"Isn't that enough?" her father interjected, with a laugh.
"I suppose so, but I thought—"
"Why, yes, that was all," said her mother, adding the next moment, surprised that she should have forgotten the most important part of all: "Oh, I forgot to tell you—Aunt Beatrice left you the house with all its contents."
"Oh!" breathed Billie again. "Now I know we're going to have a wonderful time!"
"What does the old house contain?" questioned Chet. His mind was on getting some money out of the inheritance for Billie.
"I am sure I do not know," answered his mother, "It may be completely furnished or it may be quite bare. I imagine, though, that Aunt Beatrice left it furnished. But everything is very old, and maybe the rats and moths have played sad havoc there."
They talked for a little while more about this strange thing that had happened. Then Mr. Bradley went off to pick up the loose ends of his business and Mrs. Bradley adjourned to the kitchen to discuss supper preparations with the mountainous Debbie.
Left alone, Billie and Chet looked at each other wonderingly.
"Well," said Billie in a slightly, awed tone, "we expected something to happen, and it certainly did."
"But we didn't expect her to leave you an old stone mansion," crowed Chet. "Say, Billie," he added, stopping before her in his excited pacing of the room to gaze at her eagerly, "aren't you crazy to go out and see it?"
"I'd like," said Billie fervently, "to start for Cherry Corners on the very next train. But I'm not so sure I'd like to stay in that place after nightfall," she added on second thought.
"Why, you're not afraid of the ghosts, are you?" he asked, with intense scorn. "Don't you know that ghosts are all in the imagination?"
"Of course I do. Who said I was afraid of ghosts?" retorted Billie with spirit. "You know that I don't believe in them any more than you do."
"Well, then what are you afraid of?" insisted Chet.
"Oh, thieves and things. Tramps maybe," said Billie thoughtfully; then she added with spirit, as Chet smiled a superior sort of smile: "I just guess you wouldn't be able to spend a night in that sort of a gloomy old house away off from everybody without feeling nervous. Goodness! I'd be expecting every minute to have the ghosts of dead and gone Indians rise up and scalp me."
"Thought you didn't believe in ghosts," gibed Chet.
"I don't," flared Billie, adding rather weakly: "But I'm not going to take any chances, anyway."
"But oh," she added after a few minutes of thoughtful silence, "I can't help it if it is ungrateful, but I do wish Aunt Beatrice had left me a few hundred dollars instead. We've still got that old statue to worry about, and Three Towers Hall and the military academy."
Chet was silent for a minute, then he said with sudden inspiration: "There's the watch Aunt Beatrice left me, you know. Mother said it was very valuable."
Billie's face lighted for a moment, then fell again.
"But you know Uncle Bill always said that you never could get anything like the value for old gold. And anyway," she rose and put a loving arm about him, "I couldn't let you do that for me, Chet, dear. I think you're the dearest brother in the world."
A few hours later Laura Jordon and Violet Farrington came over, trying their best not to look curious. They had waited as long as they could, but knowing about the death of Billie's queer old aunt and knowing also that Billie, as her namesake, might expect some share of the fortune—if there was one—they had been filled with excitement, and now as they ran up the steps to Billie's porch it was all they could do to keep from blurting out the question.
For both Laura and Violet had been perfectly certain that Billie's Aunt Beatrice had been some sort of miser who had piled up an immense fortune simply for their chum's benefit.
"Just think," Violet had said in one of their excited conferences on the subject, "what a wonderful thing it will be for Billie just now when she is so worried about that miserable old statue. And for Chet too!"
"Yes, it would mean they could both go to school and we'd all have such a good time," Laura had chimed in. "Goodness!" she had added with a chuckle, "I feel almost as much obliged to Aunt Beatrice as Billie will."
But now that the great moment had come, they sat decorously in Billie's porch swing and tried to appear not at all curious as to whether Billie had gathered in a fortune since they last had seen her or not.
And Billie, her little imp of mischief at work again, guessed the object of their visit and decided with an inward chuckle to keep them guessing.
She managed to accomplish her purpose for just about five minutes. Then Laura, unable to stand the suspense a moment more, took the bit in her teeth and bolted.
"For goodness' sake, Billie," she cried desperately, "why don't you tell us?"
"Tell you what?" asked Billie, trying to look innocent. "Haven't I been telling you—"
"Yes, about the way Debbie makes potato salad," cried Laura disgustedly."You know well enough why we came."
"Why you came?" Billie repeated, looking still more surprised. "Why, naturally, I thought you came to see me."
"Billie Bradley, if you don't tell us what we want to know this instant,"cried Laura, jumping to her feet and making a threatening movement towardBillie's mischievous head, "I'll—I'll—oh, I don't know what I'll do.Are you going to be good? Are you?"
"Yes, yes," cried Billie, pretending immense fright, while her eyes danced with mischief. "Tell me what it is you want to know and I'll do my best, Your Highness," this last in such a very humble tone that Laura chuckled.
"All right, go ahead then," she said while Violet leaned forward eagerly."What did your aunt leave you?"
"Straight from the shoulder," Billie murmured. Then as Laura made another threatening gesture toward her, added hurriedly: "All right. Don't shoot and I'll tell you everything. Only it will take time."
Billie paused, to allow the proper amount of emphasis, then said, in a deep whisper:
"She left me a—haunted house!"
Laura screamed and Violet jumped clear out of her seat.
They stared at Billie, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
"Wh-what did you say?" asked Laura when she could get her breath.
"I said," said Billie, speaking very distinctly and enjoying the sensation she had caused, "that Aunt Beatrice left me a haunted house."
"Th-then I wasn't dreaming," stammered Violet, while Laura just continued to stare. "Is th-that all, Billie?"
"Isn't that enough?" asked Billie, just as her father had done a few hours before.
"It's either not enough or it is too much," replied Violet. "If I had to have the ghosts, I should want some very substantial compensations to make up for such housemates as those airy and playful ladies and gentlemen are said to make."
"But it is a house," persisted Billie. "And you know it isn't everybody who can own a haunted house."
"A haunted house!" said Laura, speaking in a hushed tone. "Is it a real haunted house, Billie, or are you fooling?"
"Well, I don't know that it is a regular honest-to-goodness one," admitted Billie reluctantly. "You see, it is the house Aunt Beatrice used to live in when she was at home, and she left it to me, with everything in it."
"How perfectly glorious!" cried Laura, clapping her hands with delight."Tell us about it, Billie. What made you say it was haunted?"
Then did Billie tell them all that her mother had told her about her inheritance and, if the truth be told, even added a few details of her own.
However that may have been, the fact remains that when she had finished the girls were as perfectly wild as Chet had been to visit the queer old place and, if need be, even confront its "ghosts!"
"Think!" cried Laura, clasping her hands rapturously. "Just think of being able to roam all over that romantic old place and pry into corners—"
"And get your hands dirty," interrupted Billie drily.
"Why, Billie," Laura stopped in her transports to regard her friend with wide eyes, "aren't you simply wild about the place too?"
"Oh, I suppose so," said Billie, adding as a shadow crossed her face: "The folks think I'm awful, all 'cept Chet, and I suppose I am—but I'd give the whole place, tunnels, spooky hallways, ghostly attic, and everything for just a few little hundred dollar bills."
The girls were silent for a few minutes, realizing that Billie's strange inheritance did not do a thing toward solving the old problems of the broken statue and of going to boarding school.
Then Violet, who was always thinking up some happy way out of a difficulty, gave a little bounce in the swing.
"How do we know," she cried, as the girls looked at her half hopefully, "but what you could sell some of the furniture in the old house and get enough to pay for the statue?"
"We might, at that," said Billie, her face lighting up again. "But mother said it must all be awfully old," she added doubtfully.
"All the better," cried Violet, growing more and more enthusiastic. "You say that the old house dates back to revolutionary times, Billie. How do we know but what some of the old furniture would be very valuable as antiques?"
"Violet, you're a wonder!" cried Billie, hugging her so hard that she gasped for breath. "I'd never have thought of that in a thousand years. Now you speak of it," she added thoughtfully, "I remember some antique furniture that Uncle Bill has in his library. He says it's worth all sorts of money, but I wouldn't give two cents for it."
"Well, as long as somebody will, what should we care!" cried Laura flippantly. "Maybe you'll make a fortune for yourself after all, Billie."
"Oh, and think what it would mean!" cried Violet, her eyes shining. "It would mean that you could pay for that beastly old statue, Billie. And it would mean that you could go to Three Towers with us."
"And Chet could go to the military academy with Teddy and Ferd,"Laura added.
"For goodness' sake!" cried poor Billie wildly. "You make me feel dizzy. What is the use of getting my hopes all raised? Probably Aunt Beatrice's furniture will be old, fallen-to-pieces stuff that nobody would give two cents for."
"Goodness, what a wet blanket!" cried Laura reproachfully.
"Well, I'd rather be a wet blanket," retorted Billie desperately, "than to plan for a lot of fun and then be disappointed. I—I've been disappointed enough, goodness knows."
There was a quiver in Billie's brave little mouth and instinctivelyViolet and Laura put an arm about her.
"We know what you mean," said Violet, soothingly. "And if you don't want us to, we'll try not to hope too hard."
"Or if we do, we'll keep it to ourselves," added Laura, and Billie hugged them fondly.
"I don't want you to stop hoping," she cried plaintively. "And I don't want to be a wet blanket, either. I'm just afraid, that's all."
The girls swung back and forth in silence for a few minutes. Then it wasLaura who spoke.
"When are you going out to look over your property, Billie?"
"Why, I don't know," answered Billie thoughtfully. "As soon as we can arrange it, I suppose. Dad says it's a full day's trip to get there, so we would have to make some arrangement to stay over night."
"Couldn't you spend the night in the house?" suggested Violet.
"We might," Billie answered doubtfully. "Although I must say I wouldn't like to—not the first night anyway. I'd want time to become acquainted with the place first."
"If you will promise on your word of honor not to laugh at me," said Violet after another short silence, "I'll tell you that I have another idea."
"We won't laugh," they promised, and Billie added eagerly: "Tell us about it, Violet. Even if we do laugh at your ideas at first, we generally end by following them."
"But you said you wouldn't laugh this time," Violet reminded her, adding, as the worst threat she could think of: "If you do I won't let you follow out my idea."
"All right," said Billie. "As Chet would say—'shoot.'"
"Why, I was just thinking," said Violet, looking at them intently, "that we haven't a plan in the world for spending our vacation—"
"Vi!" cried Laura joyfully, not waiting for her to finish, "youhavea good idea this time. You were going to say, why not spend our vacation there?"
"At Cherry Corners?" asked Billie surprised, adding with a demure glance: "Nobody seems to think of asking me about it. And it's my property, you know."
"Gracious, isn't she stuck up?" cried Laura flippantly. "I'll have you know you're not the only property holder in the community, Billie Bradley. Dad gave me the deed to three lots in some outlandish place, I don't even know where it is."
"Probably didn't have anything else to do with them, so wished them on you," said Billie cruelly.
"Shouldn't wonder," said Laura, adding with a rueful little smile: "I've never been able to find out whether it was an April Fool's present or not."
"Well, I don't see what all that has to do with my proposition," put inViolet patiently. "Now own up—don't you think it's a great idea?"
"Wonderful," said Billie unenthusiastically. "I don't know when I've ever heard of anything so brilliant."
"There's something wrong with Billie," said Violet, beginning to look anxious. "Don't you think we'd better send for a doctor, Laura?"
"I think you are the one who needs a doctor," retorted Billie. "Who ever thought of spending a vacation out in the wilderness a million miles or so from nowhere in an old tumbled-down house that makes your flesh creep and the hair rise on your head just to look at it?"
"My, but that must feel funny," said Laura, the irrepressible. "That's one experience I never did have."
"What?" asked Billie.
"Have my hair rise on my head. Please excuse me, Billie," as Billie in her turn looked threatening. "What was it you were about to say?"
"Goose," commented Billie and then turned to Violet. "Did you really mean that about spending our vacation there?" she asked.
"Of course I did," said Violet. "And I don't see what's so very funny about it anyway. We could take a chaperone, and maybe the boys could come along too."
"Oh, that would be fun," cried Billie, then flushed as she met Laura's laughing eyes. "I meant," she added, angry because of the blush, "that the place wouldn't be quite so lonesome and horrid with the boys around."
"Oh, yes, we know," said Laura, with an aggravating twinkle that madeBillie long to shake her. "We know all about it, honey."
Why, thought Billie, as she ignored the remark, pretending not to hear it, would Laura always be such a goose as to make a joke of the very real friendship between her and Teddy Jordon? She liked Teddy immensely and she was not going to stop liking him even if Laura would persist in being foolish.
"Then you will admit it is a good idea?" Violet asked eagerly.
"I liked it all, but Billie only likes the last part—about the boys," said Laura, and again Billie had a wild desire to shake her.
"It will be lots of fun," she said, beginning to see the possibilities in a vacation spent at Cherry Corners. "Mother says the rooms are large and there are plenty of them so we could have as big a party as we wanted. But I don't know how comfortable you would be," she warned them.
"Who cares about being comfortable on a lark like that?" cried Laura airily. "The more uncomfortable we are the more fun we'll have. I say, Billie, don't you think we'd better take Gyp along?" Gyp was a thoroughbred bull terrier of which Laura was the proud owner. "He might come in handy if any ghosts showed up."
The girls laughed at her.
"As if Gyp would be any good against ghosts!" scoffed Violet. "Why, they would walk right through him."
"Well," said Laura, with a little chuckle, "he could at least bark and let us know when they were coming!"
"But whom shall we get for a chaperone?" asked Laura Jordon, after they had thoroughly discussed these new and startling plans for a vacation. "We don't want to get any one who is too old and grouchy, and yet the folks probably wouldn't let us go unless we did."
Billie and Violet laughed, for they realized the truth of what she said.
"We do seem to be 'up against it,' as Ted says." Laura was always using her brother for an excuse for her own slang. "I can't think of a single person jolly enough to please us and dull enough to please the folks."
"How about one of our mothers?" Violet suggested.
"I know my mother wouldn't do it," said Billie. "The last time I asked her to chaperone us girls she said she would as soon chaperone a trio of eels."
"And when I asked mother," Laura added, "she said she would have nervous prostration in a week."
"My, we must have a terrible reputation," sighed Violet. "I never knew we were as bad as all that."
"Oh, I have an idea!" cried Laura suddenly, clapping her hands.
"Well, don't let it bite you," murmured Billie.
"Wait till you hear and you won't be so sarcastic," retorted Laura. "I'm sure I have just the very person that we want."
"Oh, who?" cried Violet.
"Maria Gilligan, our housekeeper," Laura announced, and then sat back with an air that said just as plainly as words: "There! how's that for an inspiration?"
"Maria Gilligan, your housekeeper?" Billie repeated.
"I think it's a rather good idea, Laura," said Violet. "Isn't Mrs.Gilligan the one who is always playing jokes on her husband?"
"Yes, she's the funniest thing you ever saw," Laura answered, her eyes beginning to twinkle at the memory of some of Mrs. Gilligan's escapades. "Why, one April Fool's Day she set the clock back an hour and Mr. Gilligan got up grumbling that it was awfully dark for six o'clock. Then when he was all ready and was starting out to work she told him about it."
"What did he do?" asked Violet, interested.
"I know what I'd have done if I'd been in his place," sniffed Billie."I'd have tied her in a chair and gagged her and left her there all day."
"Billie! how barbaric!" cried Violet. "What would you have done that for?"
"Just so she could have thought over her sins," said Billie with a chuckle. "I never did believe in practical jokes."
"And then another time," said Laura, her eyes twinkling, "she was upstairs straightening up the store-room when she pretended to have a tumble. You know she weighs about two hundred pounds—"
"At a rough guess, I should say three hundred," murmured Billie, forBillie was in a very contrary mood that day.
"And she came down with a thump that shook the chandeliers," Laura went on, ignoring the interruption, "and when Mr. Gilligan—you know he weighs only a hundred and fifty and is about half her size—"
"Now Iknowshe weighs three hundred," interposed Billie again. "It's just a matter of arithmetic."
"There she was with her head in her hands," went on Laura, too much amused by her story to notice the interruption, "sobbing as if her heart would break. And when he got down on his knees to comfort her, she just looked at him with a grin and said: 'April Fool.'"
"Well, I should say he was," said Billie, with another sniff. "And not only an April Fool, either. She would try a trick like that just about once with me."
"Well, anyway," Laura concluded, "I think she would be just the one to take on our trip with us. She's jolly and full of fun and yet she's old enough and fat enough to please our fathers and mothers. What do you say?"
"Do you suppose she's fat enough to scare away the ghosts?" asked Billie, with a chuckle.
"My, but I'd be sorry for any mistaken ghost that tried to have a set-to with her," laughed Laura. "She'd just laugh at them and say: 'Shoo, ghost, don't bodder me.'"
"All right, let's ask her," decided Billie. "Now that we have made up our minds to change Cherry Corners into a summer resort, I can't wait to get started."
"If only the folks will be willing," said Violet, looking worried. "Mother is funny about letting me go anywhere away from home without her."
"I guess all our parents are," said Billie, then added, with a sudden inspiration: "I tell you what! Let's all go together and ask them. Three are always stronger than one."
"You do have a good idea once in awhile, Billie!" exclaimed Laura, jumping out of the swing and holding out a hand to each of them. "Come on, we can't afford to waste any time."
"Where shall we go first?" asked Violet.
"To Laura's," Billie decided. "If we can get her mother and father to consent and then can get Mrs. Gilligan to go with us as chaperone, we'll have a pretty good argument to give our folks. Eh, what?"
Gaily the girls set off to win Laura's parents over to their side, and they were lucky enough to find Mrs. Jordon at home. Also Teddy was there, sitting beside her on the veranda. At sight of Billie the boy jumped to his feet and came running down to her.
"Hello," he cried. "I was just coming over your way, to see if Chet didn't want to fight out our singles tournament. He's two sets ahead of me now, and I'm thirsting for r-revenge."
"I think he'll give it to you all right," laughed Billie, as Violet and Laura ran up the steps in front of them. "I've never seen the time yet when Chet refused a tennis game."
"All right, I'm off then," he cried, and was starting away when she called him back.
"Don't you want to know about my—inheritance?" she asked him, with a demure little glance.
"Your what?" he cried, then suddenly he grasped her two hands and swung them joyfully back and forth. "Do you mean to say," he cried, "that your aunt really left you something? What is it, Billie? Go on, tell me."
"If you want to hear all about it just stay around for a little while," she laughed, leading him toward the group at the other end of the porch, two members of which were already in animated conversation.
"May we get in on this?" she called, interrupting an eloquent appeal onLaura's part.
"Oh, yes, come here, do," cried Laura, clutching at her dress and dragging her into the circle. "Mother's beginning to shake her head, and you mustn't let her, Billie. She'll do anything for you."
Mrs. Jordon laughed and made room for Billie on the divan beside her.
"Now perhaps you'll tell me," she said, "what this crazy daughter of mine is talking about. So far I've got a sort of confused jumble of a haunted house and vacations and Mrs. Gilligan. I must confess I don't see how the three can possibly be connected."
Then Billie told all over again the story of her strange inheritance, while Mrs. Jordon and Teddy listened with interest and Violet and Laura now and then put in a word to plead their cause.
As for Teddy, he was so busy watching Billie's flushed, excited and altogether charming face that he more than once lost the trend of the conversation.
"I don't wonder Laura said mother couldn't refuse her anything," he thought. "I don't see how any one could refuse her when she talks and looks that way. Billie's a wonder, that's all."
And in this case Billie did indeed prove herself to be a wonder. Within half an hour she had not only won Mrs. Jordon over to their side, but had persuaded her to let the girls borrow Mrs. Gilligan for the time of their vacation.
"Of course," Mrs. Jordon warned them, as the girls were hugging each other triumphantly, "we aren't at all sure that Mrs. Gilligan will want to undertake such an expedition. I couldn't blame her very much if she didn't," she added, with a rueful little smile, "knowing you girls as she does."
"I'll get her!" cried Laura, and promptly put her words into action.
She appeared the next minute, dragging a very much astonished housekeeper after her, and proudly presented her prize to her mother.
"She said she was busy, Mother, and couldn't stop," Laura said, adding, with a bright smile: "But I told her it was something awfully important you wanted to say to her."
"Sure and I suppose the young girl is up to some of her tricks," saidMrs. Gilligan, beaming fondly upon her captor, "but I came with her,thinking it possible you might really have something to say to me,Mrs. Jordon."
"Yes, I have, Mrs. Gilligan. Sit down, won't you please? It may take some time to persuade you—"
And then and there began another campaign. However, with Mrs. Jordon as a powerful ally the girls had little trouble in overcoming Mrs. Gilligan's objections, and in the end came off with colors flying.
"Now to see Billie's mother!" cried Laura.
The girls hugged Mrs. Jordon, waved to their new chaperone, and ran gayly down the steps. Teddy, with a whispered word to his mother, followed them.
"Say, wait for a fellow, can't you?" he cried, and they turned to wait for him.
"Come on, Vi," cried Laura, catching hold of Violet's arm and hurrying forward. "Ted and Billie will get there some time. We can't wait for them."
"How do you like our new plans?" asked Billie, looking up at him with sparkling eyes.
"I think you ought to have all sorts of fun," he told her, adding with a funny little smile: "But I can't quite make out yet where we fellows come in."
"Oh, didn't I tell you?" she asked, surprised. "Why, you are going with us!"
After permission for the outing was gained from all the parents concerned everything was bustle and excitement. For a week the girls spent the whole of every day at each other's houses, planning their vacation, talking about the clothes they would need to take with them, and generally enjoying themselves.
As the time drew near they could hardly contain their excitement, and the boys, who had decided they would follow the girls some days later, were almost as bad.
"I don't see why you don't come with us," Billie pouted one night, when the entire crowd of young folks had assembled at her home. "It would be lots more fun on the train if you boys were with us."
"But there is the tennis match we promised to play with the fellows of the south end," Chet pointed out for perhaps the hundredth time. "We couldn't back out of it at the last minute, you know; they'd think we were afraid."
"Now how do you know," Violet pointed out, "but what we will all have been eaten up by the ghosts by the time you get there?"
"Ghosts!" scoffed Ferdinand Stowing, who was to go with Chet and Teddy. "I don't see where you girls get this ghost stuff. Just because a house happens to be old doesn't say it's haunted."
"Gosh! listen to him," cried Chet indignantly. "Some one is always taking the joy out of life."
"Say, you don't think it's haunted, do you?" asked Ferd, in surprise.
"Of course not," answered Chet, adding, with a chuckle: "But I have my hopes."
"Well, so have I," spoke up Laura promptly. "If there isn't a family ghost or two about the place, we just won't have any fun. What's the use of going off into the wilderness to a spooky house if we're not going to meet a ghost?"
"Well, you know I didn't promise any ghosts," said Billie, looking up from a piece of fancy work she was embroidering. "If you are disappointed, you needn't blame it on me, Laura, or you either, Chet."
"Well, I don't see why we shouldn't have a good time without ghosts," put in Violet. "In fact, I don't think I'd particularly enjoy meeting somebody's great-great-ancestor in the dark."
"Oh, Vi, you give me the creeps," said Laura with a little shiver. "Billie, do you think half a dozen middies' would do? We won't want to dress up very much."
"No, the ghosts probably wouldn't know the difference," said Teddy wickedly. "By the way, boys," he went on, imitating Laura's tone to perfection, "that's one important thing we haven't decided, yet. What are we going to wear?"
"You poor fish!" cried Ferd, throwing a cushion at him. "Who let you in?"
"Stop wrecking the furniture," exclaimed Billie, from her corner. "And do stop talking all at once. You make my ears ache. And besides, I want to say something."
"Silence," cried Chet, in a dramatically deep voice. "The queen is about to speak."
"He said something that time," whispered Teddy in her ear, and a little pink flush mounted to Billie's face, making her look prettier than ever. It was so nice to have one's friends like you!
"Why, I was just thinking about the cooking," she said. "Do any of you boys know how to cook?"
"Heavens, listen at her!" cried Ferd in alarm. "Is she going to set us to work already—before we get there? What's the idea, Billie?"
"Well," replied Billie, biting off her thread calmly, "we have to eat while we're there, you know."
"No!" cried Chet sarcastically. "You may, sweet sister, but not us. We are too ethereal."
"Say, is he insulting us?" cried Ferd indignantly. "Say that again, I dare you—"
"Oh, for goodness' sake keep still!" cried Laura, clapping her hands to her ears. "You make me deaf, dumb and blind. Now, Billie, what were you going to say?"
"Simply, that since we do have to eat, Chet or anybody else to the contrary," she looked at her brother and dimpled adorably, "we will have to decide who is going to do the cooking."
"Why, I suppose we'll take our turns at it, as we've done before when we have been camping," said Laura, in surprise.
"I know. But what I want to find out is, are the boys going to do any of the work?"
"Good land, is she asking us to cook?" asked Ferd. "Why, Billie, we don't know a thing about it!"
"And don't want to learn," added Chet fervently.
"Oh, you big fibbers!" Billie's eyes danced as she looked at them. "I remember—oh, I have a very good memory," and she glanced sideways at Teddy, who was beginning to look uncomfortable. "I remember a certain person telling me how beautifully you boys cooked while you were at camp."
"Say, Billie, that's not fair," cried Teddy, with a guilty note in his voice that made his two comrades look at him accusingly.
"Aha, we see the villain!" cried Ferd threateningly. "What'll we do with him, Chet?"
"Nothing's bad enough for such a crime," said Chet ruefully. "What did you make such a break for, Ted? I thought I'd brought you up better."
"Gee, Billie, do you see what you've let me in for?" said Ted miserably, but Billie only regarded him with laughing eyes while Laura and Violet seemed to be enjoying the situation immensely.
"I don't see what I did," Billie replied innocently. "I thought I was paying you boys a compliment by saying that you could cook well."
"But we can't," cried Ferd, seizing the opportunity eagerly. "Gee, Billie, you couldn't eat the awful messes we make. Why, you're a good cook—"
Billie raised a cushion threateningly in the air.
"None of that! None of that!" she warned him. "We see through you, villain!"
"Say, she must think you're one of the Cherry Corners ghosts," broke in Teddy whimsically. "It's pretty hard on a fellow when you can see through him, Billie."
"But honest you couldn't," Ferd insisted, not to be defeated in this one last hope. "Really, I don't know enough about an egg to take the shell off when I fry it."
"Idiot," cried Billie, throwing the pillow at him in earnest. "Who ever heard of fried egg in the shell?"
"I did," cried Ferd, unabashed by the laughter and the scornful glances turned his way. "Ladies and gentlemen, you see before you to-night the man that invented it."
"Well, but nobody has answered my question," said Billie demurely, after the laughter had subsided. "Are the boys going to help cook or are they not?"
"I tell you what," said Chet desperately. "We'll cook if you will promise to eat it."
"Billie," cried Laura in alarm, "don't make any rash promises. They would probably put some awful thing into the food on purpose."
"Laura, that's some idea," cried Ferd, looking at her admiringly while Teddy and Chet chuckled. "Thanks. We never would have thought of that ourselves."
"Well," said Billie with a little chuckle, "I imagine we would rather eat our own cooking anyway, so you needn't worry. Only," she added warningly, as they sighed with relief, "there is one thing youwillhave to do."
"And what's that?" they cried fearfully.
"Help wash the dishes," she said; and in her tone was no relenting.
And so, even to the impatient girls the time passed quickly until at last the great day arrived.
It was a wonderful day, sunshiny and warm without being too hot, and all three of them were up with the birds. They were to catch the eight o'clock morning train, and so they had no time to waste in bed.
Billie was in a joyful mood as she got herself into the pretty new dress she was to wear on the trip. She ran around the room, humming to herself and every once in a while doing a little dance step as she realized that they were at last to embark upon their adventure.
And an adventure she somehow felt sure it was to be. For even though, contrary to Chet's hopes, and she smiled as she thought of him, they did not meet with ghosts at Cherry Corners, there would be the fun of seeing for the first time her inheritance.
It might be a queer old house and the contents and the grounds about it might be of small value, but there was a wonderful thrill nevertheless in being the owner of it.
And there was the fact that it dated back to revolutionary times, it was really historic and—it all belonged to her!
No wonder she sang as she gave a last fond pat to the pretty dress and tucked a wandering little strand of hair into place. Her eyes danced and her face was flushed, but Billie never noticed how pretty she was.
She was the first in the dining-room that morning, but her mother soon came in, scattering advice as she came and all through the meal Billie tried hard to listen dutifully to all the "must nots" and "don't dos." But all the time her eyes were on the clock and her mind was saying over and over again:
"In just half an hour we'll be on the train. In just half an hour we'll be on the train."
Then Chet came in and her father, and, finding that it was almost train time, postponed their breakfast to see her off. A few minutes later they started off to pick up the girls on the way to the station.
They found them waiting impatiently, and wildly eager to be off. About a block from the station they heard the whistle of the train, and the girls would run for it, though they really had plenty of time.
At last they were in the train with the boys and their parents waving to them. Then suddenly they realized that they were moving. They were actually on their way!
"Give my regards to the ghosts!" cried Chet as the train moved off, "and don't scare them all off before I get there!"