After she had left the piano, Ronald Trent launched into a lengthy tale concerning his recent exploits in South America. In many particulars the story did not hang together, and Doris and Kitty were bored. Iris and Azalea were flattering listeners and, whenever he showed signs of pausing, urged him on with interested questions.
As Doris listened, doubts began to form in her mind. It seemed incomprehensible that this boasting, crude stranger could really be her cousin. There must be a mistake, she told herself. Ronald Trent wasnota relative; of that she felt certain.
“Well, girlies, isn’t it about time you trundled off to your little beds?” he asked, looking insinuatingly at Doris and Kitty.
“I imagine you girls are tired,” Azalea murmured. “If you like, I can have Cora show you to your room.”
“Oh, we’re not sleepy yet,” Kitty said mischievously.
Ronald Trent fairly glared at her.
“Run along now,” he said lightly, but with a look which warned the girls he expected to be obeyed. “I have some business to talk over with Iris and Azalea.”
Iris rang for Cora, and the girls reluctantly followed her upstairs through a long hall and down a number of steps into a wing which branched off to the right. Cora showed them their room and left them alone.
“Looks as if we’re to be off in this wing all by ourselves,” Kitty said uneasily. “This place is too spooky to suit me.”
The room was large and austere with long mirrors and an old-fashioned four-poster bed and dresser. Several rag rugs were scattered over the bare floor. Double windows looked down over the side veranda and the branches of a sprawling maple tree brushed against the panes.
As a precautionary measure Kitty looked under the bed and peeped into the closet.
“Wasn’t that man terrible?” Doris said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “And the way he sent us to bed just as though we were infants! Do you think he really could be a cousin of mine?”
“I don’t see how he could be,” Kitty comforted. “He doesn’t look or act like any of your relatives that I ever saw.”
“Well, I hope not! Wonder what he wants of Iris and Azalea?”
“Something he didn’t want us to hear, that’s certain. Say, where is he from, anyway?”
“Some place about four hundred miles from here—Cloudy Cove, I think he said.”
“And he drives that far every few days to see Azalea and Iris? It looks fishy to me.”
“I think so, too,” Doris agreed. “The Misses Gates are lovely ladies—far too good for that loud creature—but at the same time they’re scarcely the type a man would drive four hundred miles to see.”
“He doesn’t care a whit about them. You can tell that.”
As they undressed, the girls continued to discuss Ronald Trent and to make disparaging remarks. Then Kitty jumped into bed and Doris put out the light. Snuggling down into the covers, they shivered a bit as the wind rattled the window pane. They could almost imagine that in the pitch dark room someone was slowly creeping toward them.
“I’d hate to stay here very long,” Kitty whispered. “Folks are so funny. Even Henry and Cora.”
“I’m eager to find out why they sent for me,” Doris whispered in return. “It looks to me as though there’s something strange going on here.”
Save for the moaning of the wind, the old house was quiet, and presently the girls heard the front door slam shut.
“That was my illustrious cousin departing,” Doris murmured.
A few minutes later they heard two doors close farther down the hall and knew that Azalea and Iris had retired.
The girls closed their eyes and tried to go to sleep, but the brushing of the branches against the windows, and the weird sounds made by the wind, kept them in a state of nervous suspense. Then, just as Doris was dozing off, she heard a low whimpering moan from the yard below.
“Wags!” she whispered to Kitty.
“Maybe he’ll stop,” her chum suggested.
But Wags did not stop. He continued to whimper until the girls were afraid he would disturb the entire household.
“Poor thing!” Doris sympathized. “He’s out there all alone in a strange place. I’ll bet he’s lonesome.”
At last, unable to bear it any longer, she slipped out of bed and began to dress.
“What are you going to do?” Kitty whispered.
“I’m going to bring him up here for the night.”
“Cora will just about kill you, if she catches you!”
“I’ll sneak down so quietly no one will hear me.”
“I don’t like to stay here alone while you’re gone, Dory. It’s too scarey.”
“Then come along.”
“Ugh! It’s too far.”
Doris had finished dressing and now, without making a light, she moved cautiously toward the door.
“Don’t be gone long,” Kitty pleaded in a whisper. “If Wags lets out a yelp while you’re bringing him upstairs, we’re sunk!”
Quietly opening the door, Doris stood and listened. The old mansion was quiet save for the whistling of the wind and the rattling of doors and windows. Hesitating a moment, she noiselessly stole down the hallway. She was not afraid of being heard for she knew Azalea and Iris had rooms in the other wing.
At the head of the stairway she halted in astonishment. Below her she caught the glimmer of an oil lamp. To her further amazement she saw two men sitting at the table and instantly recognized them as Ronald Trent and Henry Sully!
Doris’s first impulse was to retreat. Then, realizing that she was standing in the dark and could not be seen, although she could plainly see what the others were about, she was tempted to remain. Instinctively, she had sensed that all was not as it should be. She distinctly remembered hearing Ronald Trent leave the house before the Misses Gates had retired. Why, then, had Henry Sully admitted him again and so quietly that no one had been the wiser?
She listened intently so as not to miss a word the men were saying.
“Any mail today, Hank?” she heard Ronald Trent mutter.
“No, but we’ll git something soon, I hope,” Henry answered so low that Doris scarcely caught the words. “Takes a while to git mail from the oil fields, I reckon.”
“Wish things would start breaking our way for a change,” Ronald said. “First thing we know that smart-looking Force kid will throw a wrench into the works and ruin our plans. I need money bad, too.”
“You ain’t the only one.”
“Everybody does,” growled Trent softly.
“I can’t stand this outfit much longer,” mumbled Henry dejectedly.
“How’s the crowd in town treating you?” inquired Trent, a bit maliciously. “The town officials haven’t decided on a clean-up week, have they?”
“Naw, that’s all right. But this law-abidin’ flock make me tired. Too many females pokin’ around—just too many,” muttered Henry disgustedly, taking out his watch, and winding the stem thoughtfully, tilting his head to one side in an attitude of alertness. The hour was growing late.
Doris shrank back, but there was no need. They were entirely unaware of her nearness.
Ronald Trent laughed suggestively. This made Doris’s cheeks burn with embarrassment as he said, “Gee, that bunch of flowers smell good to me! I love the ladies, especially the pretty girlies, Henry. I’m not so hard to be friends with,” the egotist mused. “I’m a swell dresser, too, everything the dames like.”
Henry envied him his position with the Misses Gates, it was plain to be seen, as he accepted the statement with a nod of approval.
There was a pause as Ronald Trent took out a wallet and looked over its contents.
Doris waited in the dark hallway, unable to see the contents.
“The old dames are shutting down a bit,” Ronald went on. “I had to play up to ’em tonight and got only two hundred at that.”
“Too bad the old gals got that letter off to the red-head. That was one you missed, Trent.”
This reference to her made Doris decide to creep a step or two nearer. She had heard enough to convince her that Henry and Ronald were conspiring against Azalea and Iris, the two trusting, flower-like ladies!
She strained forward to catch more of the conversation.
However, Doris was to learn no more that night, for as she moved softly down the stairs the two men pushed back their chairs.
“You’d better be gettin’ out of here before those old gals find out what we’re doing,” he warned. “I’ll let you out the back way.”
They moved on to the kitchen and Doris, made bold by her knowledge of the underhanded scheme, came down into the living room. She heard the back door close as Ronald Trent hurriedly departed. A moment later, as the gate creaked, Wags gave another savage yelp.
Not until she heard Henry starting up the back stairs to his own quarters, did Doris dare venture to the door. Waiting until everything was still again, she quietly let herself out of doors.
Wags whimpered joyfully as she stooped down to unfasten him, and lifted up his paws. Doris picked him up, and holding him close, stole back into the house. She closed and locked the door behind her and listened. The coast seemed clear.
“Don’t you dare bark!” she whispered to Wags.
Tiptoeing up the stairway, she anxiously wondered if she could reach her room without being discovered.
“Azalea and Iris are probably asleep by this time,” she thought.
In this supposition she was not correct. The Misses Gates were at that moment lying wide awake in their adjoining rooms in the left wing, recalling vivid memories of their girlhood when each hoped to be the bride of the handsome John Trent.
Only a few close friends had understood why Doris’s uncle had gone away without marrying either of the twins, for by turns he had appeared in love with each of them. Some people had jokingly remarked that he could not tell them apart and that this was his reason for giving them up. At any rate, he had never been able to choose between them and had gone away, leaving heart-breaks behind. For Azalea and Iris the locked gates at the front entrance to the mansion were symbolic of a past which could never be forgotten.
With the passing of the years, the Misses Gates clung tightly to their memories, and the appearance of John Trent’s son had only served to freshen them. Perhaps in Ronald Trent they saw their lover of old. At any rate, they doted upon him and were flattered by his extravagant compliments. Believing that he was indeed the son of John Trent, they could not see his cheapness or his crude devices for gaining their favor. They regarded him indulgently, as a mother might her son.
Shut away from the world by their own wishes, Azalea and Iris lived only for their dreams. Wickedness was to them nebulous and unreal. They had trusted Ronald Trent because it was in their nature to trust.
As Doris stole quietly up the stairway with Wags snuggled in her arms, her thoughts were bitter. What right had Ronald Trent to ingratiate himself with Azalea and Iris, only to trick them? Obviously, his motive was money.
“He won’t get away with anything if I can help it!” she told herself.
As if to punctuate the thought, she unthinkingly gave Wags a tiny squeeze. He promptly yelped. Alarmed, Doris stopped and listened, but she could hear no one moving in the house. Quieting Wags, she continued up the stairs and down the long dark hall to her bedroom.
Letting herself in, she dropped Wags on the bed with a sigh of relief.
“I thought you never were coming,” Kitty whispered. “What in the world made you take so long?”
“Lots of things,” Doris told her impressively.
“I was scared to death here by myself.”
“It was sort of scarey down where I was too, Kit. Listen! I have the most astonishing news!”
In a few terse sentences she then told her chum all she had overheard.
“Why, the mean old scamp!” Kitty exclaimed. “So you think he is after their money?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“Do you suppose they have a lot?”
“I don’t know, but I should think so. This house must be worth plenty.”
Kitty and Doris were both ignorant of real estate values and did not know that if Locked Gates were placed upon the auction block, it would bring only a comparatively small sum. The house was not modern and had fallen into a general state of dilapidation.
“At least, I’m pretty sure that man isn’t my cousin,” Doris declared, “although Henry Sully did call him Trent.”
“I knew there was something wrong with that man the minute I saw him,” Kitty insisted.
Doris had finished undressing and slipped into bed. Wags snuggled down between the girls and they permitted him to remain, for his presence made them less afraid of the unseen dangers of the old mansion.
“What do you mean to do now that you’ve discovered that those men are plotting against Azalea and Iris?” Kitty asked.
“I don’t know,” Doris admitted doubtfully. “If they learn what we’ve discovered, there is no telling what they might do to us. They already suspect that I may try to make trouble. They called me a red-head! I’ll show ’em a thing or two before I get through!”
“Will you tell the twins what you have learned?”
“Not right away. I want to get all the proof I can before I say anything to them. If I should make a mistake, they never would forgive me. You know, Kitty, I even hate to hear that man Trent laugh.”
“To be honest with you, Dory, I do too.”
“It seems so insincere.”
“Yes,” agreed Kitty. “Whenever he bursts out into one of those loud guffaws of his one just can’t help but feel that he is doing something for effect—that there is not real honest effort back of anything he is planning or doing.”
At this moment Wags, as if to comfort the two girls and to protect them from sinister wiles of those around them, stretched forth his little red tongue and tried to bestow a wet kiss on an ear of each of the girls.
“Dear little Waggsie, you are our friend, aren’t you, even though we are not sure of the rest of them in this house?”
Wags gave a yawn of contentment, and snuggled closer between the girls.
“What do you suppose this Trent does to earn a living?” ventured Kitty.
“I can’t imagine what he does, but he surely is well dressed, and has a snappy car.”
“Dave said that car was a special imported model from France. They are very expensive—cost plenty, besides the transportation charges from the other side,” replied Kitty.
“I wonder if Uncle John Trent was anything like this Ronald. Perhaps Uncle Ward never mentioned Ronald to me, because he was so loud and coarse. However, if Uncle really never knew he existed, he won’t approve of him in our family circle now. This is really a dreadful thing to discover,” and Doris sighed disconsolately, as she pushed back her soft hair that was massed over the pillow.
“Well, Doris, I think we’re in for an adventure.”
“It certainly looks like trouble after that conversation I just overheard between Trent and Henry,” replied Doris.
“It was surely lucky they didn’t see you in the dark hallway—that would have been unfortunate,” and Kitty drew the coverlet over her bare, white arm, and shook her pillow into a more comfortable position.
Wags snored contentedly as if bored with hearing his bed-fellows chattering so late into the night.
“I’m not a bit sleepy, Kitty.”
“Neither am I,” responded her chum; “this has been such an exciting and thrillingly adventurous day, with your playing detective and getting information, that I can’t go to sleep. I’m thinking about it too much.”
“When do you suppose we’ll hear why we are here to visit?” inquired Doris of Kitty.
“Well, maybe the Misses Gates will tell us soon, and that will be helpful to place the motive.”
Far into the night the girls continued to talk, but at length, from sheer weariness, they turned over on their sides and tried to sleep.
“Hope no one finds Wags here,” Doris murmured drowsily as she closed her eyes. “We must wake up early in the morning and get him out of the house before any one is up.”
Doris and Kitty fully intended to awaken early, but when they did open their eyes the sun was streaming brightly in at the windows and some one was pounding on their door.
“Come in,” Doris murmured sleepily.
Cora Sully thrust her head in at the door and glared at the girls.
“Do you think you can get your breakfast in bed?” she demanded harshly.
“What time is it?” Doris asked, sitting up and nudging Kitty, as a signal for her to keep Wags hidden under the covers.
Wags, however, had ideas of his own and at this unfortunate moment he gave a smothered yelp and pawed his way out from under the bed clothes. He leaped to the floor and darted playfully toward the housekeeper.
“How did that dog get in here?” Cora asked sharply. “Youbrought him up here last night,” she accused Doris. “You little sneak!”
“I am not a sneak,” Doris retorted. She had been confused and ashamed at the untimely discovery of her pet, but now that the housekeeper had made such an uncalled for remark, she was inclined to defend herself. “We heard him barking and were afraid he would awaken every one in the house.”
The explanation did not mollify the woman but rather seemed to fan the flame of her wrath.
“Yes, you are!” she snapped. “You just wanted an excuse to prowl about the house!”
“I did not!” Doris refuted. “It didn’t seem right to leave Wags out there all by himself.”
“You had no right to bring him into the house! I’ll get him out of here!”
Vengefully, Cora bore down upon the dog.
Wags, sensing that she was an enemy to be avoided, whisked past her and leaped upon the bed. Cora began to tear viciously at the blankets in an effort to capture him.
By this time Kitty’s arms had closed protectingly upon the little dog, and Doris had jumped out of bed.
“We’ll take him downstairs just as soon as we get dressed,” she declared. “Wags hasn’t done any harm. Please don’t get so excited about it!”
“I’ll show you who’s excited!” Cora muttered.
She had completely lost control of her temper and as Kitty rolled out on the opposite side of the bed, she made another dive for Wags. By this time Doris had lost all patience.
“Don’t you dare touch my dog!” she said quietly. “If you do, I’ll call the Misses Gates!”
The mention of the old ladies produced a surprising effect upon Cora. For the moment she seemed to forget about the dog and her resentment was turned upon Doris and Kitty.
“So you’re trying to get me in trouble, eh?” she demanded harshly.
“No, of course not,” Doris tried to explain. “We’ll not say anything to the Misses Gates, if you’ll go away and leave us alone. We didn’t mean to do any harm and we’re sorry we brought Wags up here, since it has caused you so much worry.”
Cora cast baleful glances upon the girls.
“Had to come here interfering—” they heard her mutter wrathfully to herself.
“What did you say?” Doris asked.
“Nothing!”
“But I heard you say something about us coming here to interfere.”
“Well, didn’t you?”
“With what could we interfere?”
Cora shifted her weight uneasily and looked confused. She felt that she had said too much.
“You seem to be afraid of something,” Doris observed shrewdly.
“Afraid!” the housekeeper snapped. “It’s you who ought to be afraid. Let me tell you a thing or two. If you don’t want to get into trouble, you’d better be starting back home!”
With that she flounced out of the room, leaving Kitty and Doris to stare blankly after her.
“Well did you ever?” Kitty exclaimed. “What did she mean by that?”
“I think she was threatening us,” Doris said in a low tone, listening to make certain that the housekeeper had gone on down the hall. “She was excited and didn’t know how much she was giving away.”
“She undoubtedly thinks we’re interfering with something.”
“Their plans, of course. Undoubtedly, Cora is in on the scheme. We’ll have to be careful not to let her suspect that we know anything.”
“Perhaps we had better go home,” Kitty suggested doubtfully. “I don’t like the way things are happening.”
“Oh, Kit, we don’t want to go home now,” Doris protested. “If we do, that horrid man will get all of the Misses Gates’s money. We must help them if we can.”
“I suppose so,” Kitty sighed. “All right, I’m game if you are. We’ll see it through to a finish. Thank goodness we have Wags with us, only I wish he were a bulldog so he could take a chunk out of any one that tries to annoy us.”
“Wags isn’t very popular now,” Doris laughed, “and he’s the sweetest little dog in the world. I don’t see how folks can help but like him. Hurry up, and get that other shoe on, Kit, or we never shall get downstairs.”
Hastily the girls finished dressing, and carried Wags down to the porch where they once more tied him.
“Poor thing must be about starved,” Doris said sympathetically. “After breakfast we’ll see if we can’t get a bone for him.”
Returning to the living room they found Azalea and Iris waiting for them. Contritely, the girls apologized for oversleeping.
“It isn’t very late,” Iris said kindly. “Only nine o’clock and we seldom have breakfast before eight-thirty.”
“We were tired last night,” Kitty declared, “and we spent a lot of time talking. We’ll see that it doesn’t happen again.”
“It really doesn’t matter,” Azalea assured her with a smile. “We were young once and remember how hard it was to get up early in the morning.”
Breakfast was waiting and the four went at once to the dining room. As Cora served, she cast sullen glances at the two girls, and this was not lost upon them. Breakfast finished, Doris went to the kitchen to ask for something to feed Wags. As she had anticipated, the request met with a storm of anger, but the timely appearance of Iris caused Cora’s manner to abruptly change. She gave Doris a pan of scraps with a show of good grace.
“After you have fed your dog, you girls might like to see the garden,” Iris suggested.
“Indeed we would.”
Doris left the pan of food at the side porch and then, with Kitty and the Misses Gates, began a tour of the yard. She glanced curiously toward the locked gates at the front of the house and wondered if either of the ladies would offer an explanation.
Iris had brought her garden shears with her, and as they wandered about, she cut each of the girls a gorgeous bouquet of roses. Presently they came to a stone bench and a tiny lily pool and here they paused.
“How well I remember,” Azalea murmured, half to herself, as she sank down upon the bench to rest, “it was just at this time of year that Iris and I first met John Trent. The roses were in bloom then, too.”
Kitty and Doris exchanged quick glances, wondering if Azalea was about to branch into the story they had been waiting to hear. She remained silent for several minutes, and when she spoke again it was in a more matter-of-fact tone.
“I suppose you wonder why we invited you here, Doris. As I told you before, it is a long story, but if you would like to hear it—”
“Indeed I would!” Doris assured her eagerly.
“Your uncle, John Trent, was a very fine young man,” Azalea began. “He was handsome and dashing—everything that a girl could wish for. Frequently he called at our home and Iris and I became very fond of him. Unfortunately, we never knew which one he liked better as he seemed devoted to both of us.”
“It made us very unhappy,” Iris took up the story. “You see, until John Trent came into our lives we had never had a disagreement. We dressed alike and we enjoyed the same things—we were rather proud of being twins. After we met John, things were entirely different. We no longer wished to resemble each other. Vying for his favor, we even refused to dress alike.”
Though no mention was made of any bitter feeling, Doris, reading deeply, guessed that the two ladies had carried their rivalry to such an extent that they had come to actually hate each other. Undoubtedly, the affair had been the talk of the town.
“Finally Father stepped in and took a hand,” Iris went on. “He told John that he must marry one of us before the end of the month or he would forbid him to ever step inside the gate again. Oh, it was dreadful!”
Here Iris’s voice broke and she could not continue. After a few minutes Azalea tried to take up the story.
“The days passed and still John could not choose. Each hour was a nightmare to Iris and to me. We knew the townsfolk were aware of everything and were laughing behind our backs. We became nervous and fairly sick with it all. Father could not bear to see us suffer, and one afternoon, meeting John coming up the path to the house, he stopped him.
“I don’t know what passed between them. Iris and I saw only what happened. Father spoke a few angry words to him and then they began to fight. John walked out of the gate, never to return.”
“How unfortunate!” Doris murmured.
“Yes,” Azalea said quietly, “but that was not the real tragedy. After their quarrel, Father staggered up the walk toward the house. We ran out, but before we could reach him, he fainted. He had always been afflicted with heart trouble, and the excitement was too much. In spite of everything the doctors did for him, he passed away in three days.”
“How very sad!” Kitty said sympathetically.
“My poor Uncle must have felt dreadfully wicked when he learned of your father’s death,” Doris commented.
Iris nodded soberly.
“I imagine he did, for no one ever heard of him again.”
As she spoke, Iris wiped the tears from her eyes and Azalea turned her head to hide her face. Doris felt a lump arising in her own throat as she considered the sorrowful end to the romance. She gazed thoughtfully toward the locked gates and a hush fell over the group.
Doris and Kitty thought that the Misses Gates had finished their story, but presently, after a long pause, Iris went on with difficulty:
“After the funeral we closed the front gates and locked them. To this day they have never been opened.”
“We could not bear to remain in Rumson after all that had happened,” Azalea said quietly. “We went to Europe—Iris to France and I to Germany. There we plunged into study in the hope that it would help us to forget. Finally, when the old wound was partially healed, we once more turned to each other and returned home.”
“Then you both must be fluent linguists,” Doris broke in eagerly.
“Yes,” Iris agreed rather indifferently. “I speak French and Azalea has an excellent command of German.”
“Then perhaps you could help me! My singing teacher says I must study French and German this summer.”
“I am sure it would be a pleasure,” Iris declared.
“Yes, indeed,” Azalea added. “We have so little to occupy our time, and personally I shall be glad of an opportunity to brush up on my German.”
“We have troubled you enough for one day with our unhappy history,” Iris said lightly. “Come, I will show you the rest of the garden.”
Doris had hoped that the ladies would tell her why they had invited her to Locked Gates, but apparently they found it difficult to lead up to the subject.
Three days slipped by almost before the girls were aware of it. Once they had accustomed themselves to the quiet life of the mansion, they found it very enjoyable. They spent their mornings romping in the garden with Wags and their afternoons reading or sewing. Azalea and Iris left them alone a great deal, no doubt thinking the girls would have a better time by themselves. However, Kitty and Doris observed that the Misses Gates spent an hour of each day on the third floor, and as the ladies always took their Bible with them, they assumed that they were reading it there.
“Odd, isn’t it?” Kitty commented to her chum. “You would think they could read it in the living room as well as any other place.”
“Perhaps they don’t like to do it when we are around,” Doris suggested.
The girls did not mean to pry, but, suspecting that Cora and Henry Sully were aiding in a plot against the Misses Gates, they were more watchful than they otherwise might have been. On one occasion, as they passed through a hall, they chanced to hear the two engaged in conversation.
“Don’t see why they keep hangin’ on here unless they’re wise to something,” Henry muttered to his wife.
“What could they know?” Cora had demanded sullenly. “If you keep a close tongue in your head, nothing will get out.”
“You’re the one that has the wagging tongue,” Henry returned crossly. “I’d feel better if Trent would get back here. I’m for gittin’ the thing over with as quick as we can. No telling what may queer the deal.”
This snatch of conversation set Doris and Kitty to thinking anew of the sinister plot which was brewing. Yet, until they had learned more about Ronald Trent, they did not wish to alarm the Misses Gates. Since their arrival, Azalea and Iris had been very kind to them and had seemed to enjoy their company a great deal. Cora and Henry Sully had been most unpleasant, especially when there was no one about to observe their behavior, but the girls, knowing what lay behind the sullen actions, did not permit themselves to become annoyed.
“They mean to make it so unpleasant for us that we’ll leave,” Doris declared. “You know, Cora was hinting today that the mansion is haunted!”
“What!”
“Yes, she said that since Mr. Gates died, they have heard strange noises here at night.”
“Doris, do you believe the place is—”
“Of course not,” Doris laughed reassuringly. “You’re old enough to know there aren’t any ghosts.”
“Yes,” Kitty quavered, “but this house is old, and we have been hearing strange noises at night.”
It was true that each night the girls had been disturbed by loud groans and the sound of gruff voices. Doris had wondered if Cora and Henry Sully were trying to frighten them, for certainly it was not the wind that they heard.
It was lonesome and gloomy in the right wing of the old mansion and the girls had come to dread the nights. They would have been less nervous if Wags had been permitted to stay with them, but he had been consigned to the shelter of the porch.
Several times Doris and Kitty had been tempted to tell the Misses Gates everything they had learned, but knowing how partial the two ladies were to Ronald Trent, they hesitated. It would be better, they decided, to wait for the plotters to make the first move.
Doris had wondered if Dave would visit her at the mansion but she had not dared to hope that he would come for at least a week. On the afternoon of the third day she was, therefore, greatly surprised when she heard the rhythmical hum of an airplane motor.
“I wonder if it can be Dave?” she exclaimed to her chum.
Eagerly they watched as the plane swept closer. Then Doris recognized the familiar craft and scarcely could contain her excitement. The monoplane circled low and Dave waved to them. Finally he dropped a note to Doris telling her that he intended to come to see her soon. After that he turned back toward the airport.
“I suppose he’s just out for a trial flight today,” Doris declared.
When Kitty was not looking, she carefully folded the note and placed it in her pocket for future reference.
The sight of Dave, distant as it was, gave the girls a slight touch of homesickness, and for want of a better occupation they decided to write back to their friends. They had the library to themselves, for as usual Iris and Azalea had taken their Bible with them to the third floor.
“Jake certainly would enjoy this place,” Doris commented as she sat at the desk with pen poised. “He likes mysteries and things that smack of the unusual.”
“Jake has had an interesting past, didn’t you say?”
“Yes, Uncle Ward rescued him from a bad gang. I think Jake is still afraid of the old leader for he never uses his real name and always seems half afraid that some one he knows will find him. He is absolutely devoted to us now and would do anything in the world to help us.”
“Then tell him to come down here and rid this place of ghosts,” Kitty joked.
“I’ll bet he could, all right. Jake wouldn’t hesitate to plow right into them.”
“Seriously, I wish he and that young man you call Marshmallow would ride out here. Perhaps they could help us to get a line on Ronald Trent.”
“That’s so,” Doris agreed. “But why bring Marshmallow in on it? I guess you’d like to see him yourself, wouldn’t you? I noticed you two took to each other on sight.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing Marshall if he happened to be coming this way,” Kitty admitted unembarrassed. “He’s so jolly and—”
“Fat!” Doris finished mischievously.
“He is a little plump,” Kitty admitted, “but I don’t mind that.”
“We might write to Marshmallow and tell him of our experiences here,” Doris said thoughtfully. “It may be that we will need his help before we get home again.”
The girls fell to writing their letters and for some time there was no sound other than the scratching of their pens. Kitty wrote home while Doris sent messages to her uncle, to a girl friend in Chilton, to Dave, and to Marshmallow. She did not fail to include a cheery word for Jake.
Having finished their writing, the girls took the stamped letters and placed them in the mail box where the postman would gather them up early the next morning. They walked slowly back toward the mansion, Wags trotting contentedly at their heels.
Already it was dusk and the old mansion appeared wrapped in gloom. During the day the ancient house seemed less austere and mysterious, but by night it took on a character which filled the girls with uneasiness. Their imaginations tricked them into believing that shadowy forms might lurk behind the trees. They tried to shake off the mood, but always with the darkness it came.
“This is entirely different from Barry Manor,” said Doris. “Fancy our sorority moving in here for a week-end, that surely would liven things up a bit, but would no doubt upset the lives of these two ladies who live so secluded and almost a hermits’ existence.”
“I don’t see how the Misses Gates can stand to live here all the time,” Kitty said as they turned toward the side door where Wags was to be tied for the night. “I’d be a nervous wreck. I wish they would hurry up and tell you why they invited you here.”
“So do I,” Doris returned earnestly. “I am sure they haven’t told us all of their story. To speak of the past revives old memories and they keep putting it off. Ronald Trent may come back any day now and I want to learn just how matters stand before he gets here.”
Doris and Kitty spent an unpleasant night in the right wing, for, as they had anticipated, the weird noises began shortly after they had retired. Once, hearing footsteps near their door, they clutched each other in an agony of fear, but the sound soon died away. They were on the verge of falling asleep when a strange noise from a distant part of the wing roused them into wakefulness.
“This is terrible!” Kitty whispered. “What can be going on in this dreadful house?”
“Perhaps it’s only Cora or Henry astir,” Doris suggested, but the explanation did not satisfy her, and Kitty refused to be comforted by it.
For long hours the girls lay awake, but once asleep nothing disturbed them and they awoke in the morning feeling refreshed in spite of the harrowing night.
“It’s always something of a surprise each morning when I wake up and find I’m still alive,” Kitty laughed.
At breakfast Iris chanced to remark that an old croquet set had been stored in the attic and Doris and Kitty asked if they might use it.
“Certainly,” Iris assured them. “I’ll get it out of the attic for you.”
“Oh, let us get it ourselves,” Doris begged. “I just love to poke around in attics. It’s on the third floor above our wing, isn’t it?”
Azalea and Iris exchanged quick, startled glances.
“Oh, no,” Iris returned hastily. “The attic is in the left wing.”
“But I thought there was a floor above our bedroom,” Doris said, somewhat puzzled. “We’ve been hearing such queer noises at night.”
“Mice undoubtedly,” Azalea explained and arose from the table. “If you want to see the attic, come with me.”
They went to the kitchen for a lantern and then mounted the stairs to the third floor above the left wing. Azalea unlocked the door and told them to look about as much as they liked.
After Azalea had gone back down stairs, Doris whispered to her chum:
“Didn’t you think the twins acted funny when I asked about the third floor on our wing?”
“Yes, I did, Doris. They switched the subject, too.”