"It must have rained here since we left," observed Toady, as they drew near the town.
"Why?" asked Irene curiously.
"'Cause there's a puddle of water in that hollow rock and unless it had rained, how would it get there?"
"By Jove, the lad is right," muttered Decker Simmons to himself. "Queer we didn't get any at the canyon, though. Wonder what's the trouble ahead. Town seems excited. Do you suppose the new postmaster has embezzled his funds already?"
"Uncle Decker," Tabitha's voice interrupted his meditations.
"Yes?"
"Something must have happened in town while we were gone."
"Why?"
"Main street is full of people and the bank platform is black with them. Do you suppose there is another run on the bank, or can it have failed?"
"Why, so 'tis!" ejaculated the man, noting for the first time what Tabitha's keen eyes had seen,—that the greater crowd of the people were gathered in front of the Silver Bow Bank. "Wonder what's up."
"Hello, Simmons," called Dawley, the grocer, from his position in the doorway of his store. "You don't look as if you'd heard the news."
"No. Let's have it." The whole party halted and waited curiously.
"Bank robbed."
"You don't say so! When?"
"Saturday night."
"Get much?"
"Don't know yet, but reckon 'twas only a few hundred. Brinkley lost a lot of provisions, too, but fortunately his safe was empty."
"Well, I declare! Any clue?"
"Not so far. Rain wiped out all tracks that might have been made. Had a corker of a thunderstorm that night."
"Well, well! Now what do you think of that! What steps are you taking toward the capture of the thieves?"
"Posse out scouring the desert."
"Humph!"
"Well, what else can we do without clues?"
"Findsome clues. You'll never catch the rascals by scouring the desert with a handful of men. They must have gone into camp close by, or they would never have stocked up. Bet they are new at the business.Mustbe to make a mistake like that. I'd laugh if they had never left town." And gathering up the reins, he drove on, followed by the cavalcade of burros.
The children were greatly excited. Burglaries in that lonely little desert town were unheard of, and this novel experience furnished food for their lively imaginations to feed upon. Tabitha was particularly impressed, for never before in her short life had a robbery occurred so near home, and she could think of little else. A reward of two hundred dollars had been offered for the capture of the thieves, and as soon as the little brood in the Eagles' Nest heard of this, they began to amuse themselves by telling how they would spend the money if by chance they could win the reward.
"I'd buy me a pony," said Toady, as they sat on the shady side of the house discussing the all-absorbing topic. "Ma said she never should get us another after Spotty kicked her when she struck it with the whip."
"I'd save it towards a motorcycle," declared Billiard boastfully. "No ponies for mine! With another hundred I could get a dandy machine, and then wouldn't you see me spinning about the country just as I pleased!"
"It would almost pay for another term at Ivy Hall," sighed Mercedes, who, though she never mentioned the matter, knew that the family purse was too flat to permit of her returning to her beloved school with the coming of September.
"I'd buy a little house in Los Angeles and go there to live," said Irene. "It must be pretty where there are real trees and flowers the year around."
"It's not your turn," Susie objected. "I'd buy—I'd buy—whatwouldI buy? There are so many things I want, but I b'lieve I'd go travelling. Two hundred dollars would take me quite a piece, and I'd see lots of big cities."
"And I'd go along," breathed Inez in ecstasy, "and we'd beat our way back on freight cars."
"Ho! That wouldn't be any fun," scoffed Rosslyn. "I'd buy candy, 'n' ice-cream, 'n' peanuts, 'n' popcorn."
"And a doctor," laughed Mercedes.
There was a pause, and seven pair of eyes turned expectantly toward Gloriana, who, perceiving the look, said shyly, "There are probably heaps of things I'd like to get for myself now and then, but I think the most of my two hundred would go to Granny Conover for taking care of me all those years. I'd like to see her have plenty of money to do as she pleased with before she dies."
"Wouldn't that be splendid?" cried the children, who were never tired of hearing the pitiful tale of Gloriana's life.
"Now, Tabitha," suggested Billiard. "Why, whereisTabitha?"
"Gone to put Janie to bed, I guess," said Toady, seeing that the youngest member of the family was also missing. "It's her nap time."
But in reality, Tabitha was far down the mountainside, speeding like a deer in pursuit of a tiny, white-clad figure toddling in and out among the sagebrush and greasewood toward a forbidden playground, where, half-hidden by rocks and rubbish, were several unprotected prospect holes, mysterious and alluring to the investigative baby eyes. Even as Tabitha came within calling distance of the child, Janie discovered that she was being pursued, and quickened her steps into a run, heedless of the path she was taking, until with a shrill cry of fright, she slipped over the brink of one of the very holes she had stolen away to visit, and disappeared from sight.
"O, God, don't let her be killed!" prayed the black-eyed girl, and her feet fairly flew over the uneven ground, till she, too, reached the edge of the deep excavation. But before she could discover the plight of the runaway, she felt the ground give way beneath her feet, and echoing Janie's cry of alarm, she, too, shot out of sight. Fortunately, however, little sand fell with her, and as by a miracle, she landed free and clear of the frightened, sobbing, but unhurt figure crouching in the opposite corner.
Scrambling to her feet, she seized the scared baby in her arms, exclaiming over and over again, "Janie, Janie, are you sure you aren't killed?" till at length she had soothed the child's fright and had coaxed her into laughing again. "Now, Miss Mischief," she cried, setting the baby down and beginning to investigate their prison, "we must find some way out of this place. 'Tisn't very deep, to be sure; but the sides seem pretty crumbly, so I don't dare to climb out. I reckon we'll have to shout. Help, help, help!"
They screamed themselves hoarse, but no one came to answer their call, and Janie began to wail dismally, for the minutes seemed like hours to her, and she was tired and cross. "Never mind, honey," Tabitha comforted. "If they don't find us around the house by supper time, they will know something has gone wrong and send General to find us. Now let's amuse ourselves for a while, and then we'll shout again. Here is a stick. See if you can dig a deeper hole than I can. Why, what's this?"
Stooping over to pick up a fragment of redwood bark at her feet, she uncovered a small bag, which rattled as she touched it; and as she untied the drawstring, a shower of glittering gold pieces fell into her lap.
"Pennies!" cried Janie, making a dive for a share of the shining coins.
"Yes, dear, gold pennies, but Janie mustn't touch," answered Tabitha, busily sorting the money into various piles according to its denomination. "It doesn't belong to us, and we must take it to the— Say, Janie McKittrick, what will you bet this isn't the money stolen from the bank Saturday night? Mr. Dawley said they got only a few hundred. Let's count it. One, two, three, four, five hundred dollars. Janie, that's just what we've found! The robbers didn't dare take it with them, and so hid it here, thinking it would be absolutely safe."
"Well, Tabitha Catt! Of all things! Look, girls, she's as calm and cool as if she had gone on a picnic, instead of tumbling into a prospect hole."
So intent had the two prisoners become in their find that neither had heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and as breathless Susie's voice rang out above their heads, both started guiltily.
"Why, how did you know where to look for us?" cried Tabitha, bouncing to her feet, and slipping the bag out of sight, lest the children see and ask questions.
"Well, when we couldn't find you about the house anywhere, Glory remembered that Janie had slipped off down the trail while we were talking, and so we decided that you must have chased her. Then Mercy happened to think of these holes. Janie is always possessed to play down here, and has run away three times before; so we came down to look, and here you are in the very first one," explained Susie.
"You hauled us out of the abandoned mine one day, and now we are going to fish you out of a prospect hole," exulted Billiard, much relieved to find the two girls unhurt, but unable to resist crowing a little over their mishap.
"How?" asked Tabitha, a frown of anxiety gathering in her forehead. "Don't get too near the edge there, or some of you may join us in our retreat. You must go for help. You can't get us out all alone."
"Mercy has gone for the assayer," began Inez.
"And here he is now," Billiard interrupted. "He has got a long board and a rope. Stand back, Irene, so you won't be in the way. There, now, Tabby, tie up the baby, and we'll lift her out first."
In a surprisingly short time, both girls were hoisted from the sultry pit and landed laughing gaily among their mates.
"Well," said the assayer, shaking his gray head in a puzzled fashion, "I don't understand how you kids work the stunt."
"What stunt?" they all inquired.
"Why, tumbling into every hole you come across and not getting hurt. You aren't hurt, are you?"
"No, indeed!"
"And Kitty finded a whole sack full of gold pennies down there, but her won't div Janie any," volunteered the baby quite unexpectedly.
"She—what?"
"Gold pennies!"
"What does she mean?"
The children lifted questioning eyes to Tabitha's crimson face, and even the assayer looked down at her curiously. She had not meant to let the children know about the money; at least, not until she had consulted older and wiser heads than theirs; but now that Janie had betrayed her secret, she displayed her find, and explained how it had come into her possession.
The assayer's eyes grew thoughtful, as he examined each coin minutely, and counted the treasure, to make sure that Tabitha's figures were right. "What shall you do with it?" he finally asked, as he dropped the last piece into the sack and returned it to Tabitha.
"Take it to the bank. I thought it might be part of the money the robbers got."
He glanced at her quickly, keenly; then answered, "That's the thing to do, all right, and I don't believe your surmise is far off, either. But see here, children, don't you dare lisp a word to a single soul about this money until we know for certain whose it is."
"We won't," hastily promised the wondering, round-eyed flock, for they stood much in awe of the silent, almost taciturn man who worked wonders with the rock which the miners brought him; and the little company set out for home, leaving Tabitha and the assayer to carry the precious find over to the bank.
"Do you know," said Gloriana, as the black-eyed girl finished relating the afternoon's happenings to her, "I half believe that man snooping around the pesthouse is the robber."
"What man?" demanded the startled Tabitha.
"Well, I don't know who he is, but it is someone I've never seen here in town. He was there this morning, but I didn't think much about it then. We were so excited over the robbery. But this afternoon while the assayer was dragging you out of the prospect hole, and I was watching through your field glasses, I happened to turn them in the direction of the pesthouse, and there he was again, humped up on the doorsill, watching through glasses of his own. When you started off toward town, he hustled into the house and shut the door. Now, it seems to me no one would stay in apesthouseunless he was hiding from someone."
"No one ever had smallpox there."
"Then why does everyone avoid it so?"
"I don't know. The name, I reckon. It was built for a pesthouse, but the doctors decided the patient didn't have smallpox after all, so the building has never been used."
"Then perhaps he knows there is nothing to be afraid of in the house."
"That may be, of course. Is he there yet?"
"Yes, I think he is. I've kept a close lookout ever since I discovered him, and I haven't seen him leave."
Tabitha seemed lost in thought a moment, then turned an eager face toward her companion. "Gloriana, the reward!"
"Could we?"
"Can't tell till we try!"
"But how——"
"There are only two small windows in the house,—funny, isn't it, when air is so necessary in case of sickness,—he can't get out of them. So all we have to do is guard the door."
"But how shall we get him to the—police?"
"Sheriff? I hadn't thought of that part. We couldn't tie him up and march him to jail,—we aren't strong enough, just us girls. We'll have to make sure he is there, lock him in, and then while one of us guards the door, the other must go for help."
Gloriana shuddered. She hoped it would not fall to her lot to guard the door, and yet she could not bear to think of Tabitha's staying there alone with only a flimsy structure between her and a desperate character.
"I—we—had we better try it alone?" she asked timidly. "Wouldn't it be wiser to tell the assayer and get him to help?"
"The more people there are connected with his capture, the smaller our share of the reward will be. We can do it all right."
Tabitha's daring swept away her objections. "That's so," she answered. "Well, we better not wait any longer then, or perhaps he will get away yet."
"I'm ready," Tabitha replied promptly, and with quaking hearts but determined steps the two set out, armed with a stout stick and the rusty old pistol which Gloriana had used the night the boys had played burglar.
"What is that broom handle for?" questioned the red-haired girl, wondering if she would be expected to crack the desperado over the head with it.
"To lock the door with."
"Lock the door?" Could Tabitha have gone suddenly crazy?
"Yes. It's the only way we can fasten him in. The door has an iron handle on the outside, instead of a knob, you see."
"Oh!"
"Is that the man?" The door of the pesthouse had opened abruptly and a short, portly man roughly dressed, unshaved and florid of complexion, appeared on the threshold a moment, eyed the approaching girls indifferently, glanced searchingly toward town, and again vanished within, closing the door behind him. Gloriana's heart seemed to stop beating, then pounded so loudly that it sounded to her like the pulsing of the engines in the Silver Legion Mine. "Yes," she gasped.
"Then we've got him!" Scared but exultant, Tabitha leaped to the door, thrust her stick through the handle, and cocked her revolver, just as the man, hearing the noise outside, grasped the knob and tried to open the door.
"What the deuce!" they heard him exclaim, and then he wrenched again. "Who's out there, and what do you want?" he bellowed in rage, when the door refused to budge.
"You're our prisoner," Tabitha answered boldly, though trembling like a leaf with nervous dread; "and you might just as well keep quiet as to make a fuss. Glory, hurry for the sheriff, the assayer—anyone! He's desperate!"
And indeed he sounded desperate as he kicked and banged the door, shouted and swore, tearing about his small prison like a madman, and breathing threats of vengeance against his jailer, who stood pale but undaunted in front of the door, with a cocked revolver clinched tightly in both hands, waiting anxiously for the return of Gloriana with help from town, and thanking her lucky stars that neither of the small windows was on the door side of the house.
Then suddenly the tumult ceased within, and terrified Tabitha began to take courage again. "He has decided to behave himself at last," she thought. "It's the only sensible thing to do, for he can't get away from here now without being caught. There comes Glory at last, but oh, gracious! look at the crowd following her. Half the town is out."
Just then a subdued grunt from around the corner of the house caught her attention, and beckoning wildly to the approaching throng, she crept cautiously forward to investigate, but paused again, paralyzed at the sight which met her eyes. The portly prisoner had attempted to escape by means of one of the small windows, and now hung suspended by the middle over the sill, his hands clawing the air helplessly inside, and his heels waving frantically without. At another time, Tabitha, would have shouted with laughter at the ridiculous figure he cut, but now her only thought was to prevent his escaping, and flinging aside her pistol, she plunged toward the body seesawing through the air, and clutched the feet with a determined grip, while the helpless victim protested in emphatic language.
Thus the crowd found them and went wild with delight at the spectacle, much to the discomfiture of both captor and captive, and when at length the florid prisoner was freed from his uncomfortable position, his face was purple with rage and exertion. "What is the meaning of this outrage?" he exploded as soon as he could find sufficient breath to voice his indignation. "Who put you up to such a trick as that, you young minx? Do you know who I am?"
"Why, Jerry Weller!" exclaimed an astonished voice from the interested throng of onlookers. "What are you doing here?"
"I bought this old shack and was to have had it moved onto my claims to-day, if the movers had showed up," exclaimed the irate man, his voice thick with anger. "But along come these jades and fasten me in——"
"We thought he was the bank robber," Tabitha murmured faintly, sick at heart over the mistake. "He was acting so—so suspiciously."
"Bank robber!" echoed the speaker from the crowd. "Why, Jeremiah Weller is owner of the biggest placer mines in the country. He made a fortune in Alaska. He's a millionaire! Bank robber! Ha—ha! That's rich!"
The crowd roared appreciatively, but the victim of the mistake quite unexpectedly lost his glowering look, and gruffly declared, "Well, you needn't laugh at her. She's pluck to the backbone. Show me another girl who would have undertook to corral a bank robber as she did. I don't wonder she thought that was my occupation. I certainly look rough enough—" Suddenly his roving eyes fell upon the timid, shrinking Gloriana, so depressed at the way matters had turned out that she could scarcely keep back the scalding tears. If it had not been for her, Tabitha would never have gone on such a wild-goose chase. Why hadn't she kept her suspicions to herself?
"What's your name?" demanded the stranger so abruptly that he seemed positively rude.
"Gloriana Holliday," she managed to articulate.
"Did you ever have an Uncle Jerry?"
"If I did, he never came near us that I can remember," she candidly replied.
The purple of his face deepened. "That's right, too," he muttered. "But your mother ran away to get married."
"And her folks told her never to let them see her face again," supplemented Gloriana bitterly.
"Was her name Weller at one time? But of course it was. There couldn't be two people on earth look as much alike as she and you unless they were mother and daughter; and besides, she married a Holliday,—Jack Holliday."
Gloriana nodded.
"Then, my girl, I'm your Uncle Jerry, and if you didn't catch your bank robber, you made a pretty good haul anyway. Your mother—she—she's—dead, isn't she? And your father? You're an orphan——"
"She's not any longer!" Tabitha broke in savagely. "We've adopted her and she's my sister."
"Oh! Well, that simplifies matters, too, for I'm a bachelor and have nohometo offer, but— Say, I want to talk with you. Where's your adopted father? Not in town now? Well, isn't there some place we can go where we won't be gawked at by all these hoodlums? Bring your black-haired sister,—my jailer. I certainly do admire pluck."
At this broad hint, the curious crowd reluctantly withdrew, and left the trio alone at the pesthouse threshold. Standing there bare-headed with the waning sunlight glinting through the heavy, red locks, Gloriana told what she could remember of the pitiful struggle of her parents, their deaths, and her unhappy lot until the scholarship at Ivy Hall had opened the way to better things.
So affected was the bluff stranger by the sad tale that he made no effort to check the tears which filled his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. "Well, the past is passed," he said when the story was done, "and we can't do anything now to change it. I've been downright sorry at the way we treated your mother, but she effaced herself pretty well. We never got a trace of her whereabouts, though years afterwards we heard that she was dead. We never knew there was a child, but never mind, you shall not want again as long as I live. Being a rover and unmarried, I have no home to offer, as I said before; so I am glad to find you settled with such good friends. But I've got all kinds of money, and insist upon paying for your education from now on. Here's a check for pin money."
Drawing a check-book from his pocket, he rapidly scribbled a few lines, tore out the slip and handed it to Gloriana. Mechanically she took it, and her gray eyes grew round with wonder as she read. "One hundred dollars! Oh, you must have made a mistake, Mr.——"
"Uncle Jerry," he corrected her.
"Uncle Jerry," she dutifully repeated.
"Not a bit of it! And what's more, there will be one of those ready for you every quarter."
"Oh, that's too much!" she protested. "Whatever would a girl do with four hundred dollars a year spending money?" The sum appalled her, and well it might, for never before had she possessed more than five dollars at one time.
He laughed at her dismay. "Why, I often spend that much in a day. You can lay in a stock of jimcracks like the other girls have. You'll find plenty of ways to dispose of every cent, I know."
"Maybe," she half whispered. "You see, I never had so much as a dollar all my own that I can remember until I came to live with Tabitha, but perhaps when I get used to knowing it's really mine and—genuine, I'll find ways to spend it. I—I thank you. It's nice to have an Uncle Jerry."
"It's nice to have a Niece Gloriana, too," he answered gruffly, clearing his throat with much gusto; and as there seemed to be nothing further to say, the trio turned from the lonely pesthouse, and silently climbed the hill toward town.
"Billiard, did you ever see a ghost?"
It was almost a week since the bank robbery had occurred, and still no clue as to the identity of the robbers had been found, although posses were still searching the country, determined to catch them if such a thing were possible. But the excitement of the event had already died down in the youthful minds of Silver Bow, and other topics of conversation absorbed their attention.
"Naw," answered Billiard contemptuously, without looking up from the stick he was whittling. "What's eating you, Toady? There ain't any ghosts, and you know it."
"What about that haunted house in the east end of town?"
"'Tain't haunted."
"Susie says it is."
"And Tabitha has lived alone near it for six or seven years and she has never seen anything stirring there."
"But ghosts walk only at midnight. She's never been there at night."
"Aw, you softy——"
"Susie says the Gates boy declares he saw a ghost in the graveyard one night."
"Well, that's different. I don't blame a ghost for walking there."
"Why, Billiard McKittrick, what do you mean?"
"Did you ever see a lonesomer place on earth than the Silver Bow graveyard?" demanded Billiard. "Why, it's the worst looking cemetery in the country, I believe,—just heaps of rocks and wooden sticks to show where folks are buried. Tabitha says theyblastout the graves with dynamite, six at a time, and fill them up with people as fast as they die. Would you rest easy if you were planted in that style? Wouldn't your ghost want to get out and walk?"
"Billiard McKittrick!" Toady looked positively shocked. Then after a moment, as the older boy made no reply, the younger one continued thoughtfully, "Maybe that's what is the matter with the ghost in the haunted house."
"Oh, pshaw, Toady, I tell you there ain't such a thing as a ghost!"
"I'll stump you to go down to the haunted house some time and find out."
"All right, come along!"
"Not during daylight. It must be after dark. Midnight is the best time, Susie says."
"Bother Susie! Why don't you get her to go with you?"
"You are afraid to go!" jeered Toady.
"Am not!" retorted Billiard angrily.
"Then why don't you take my dare?"
"It's all tommy-rot," insisted Billiard, with a fine show of scorn.
"'Fraid cat!"
"Oh, I'll take you up," cried the other, stung into recklessness by Toady's taunts. "We'll go to-night."
"To-night?" stammered Toady, much abashed at his brother's sudden acceptance of the dare.
"Yes, to-night!"
"What's your hurry?"
"Who's the 'fraid cat now?" taunted Billiard.
"Not me! To-night's the time. We'll set the alarm-clock for half-past ten."
"Suppose it wakes the rest of the bunch?"
"They'll think it's a mistake, and in a few minutes will be asleep again, and we can steal outside without their hearing us at all."
So it was decided, and though each boy, deep down in his heart, hoped that the other would back out before the hour set, both resolved not to show the white feather, and as the alarm-clock pealed forth its summons in the silence of the night, two sleepy lads crept stealthily out of bed, drew on their clothes, and without exchanging a word, started for the haunted house at the other end of town.
Never, it seemed to the quaking boys, had the desert night seemed so black. The stars were shining, to be sure, but the very heavens seemed further away, and the silence was appalling. Nervous, excited, dreading the ordeal, each boy waited for the other to propose that they give up their wild-goose chase; but neither was willing to acknowledge his cowardice first, so they stumbled fearfully on, clutching each other's hands to keep from falling, they told themselves, but really to feel the nearness of another human being.
At length, however, they reached the old, abandoned shack, where they were to keep their ghostly vigil, and with bated breath they opened the sagging door and crept trembling over the threshold into the black shadows of the interior. Fear held them tongue-tied, and they crouched upon the dusty floor as close to the door as they could get. The silence was intense, terrifying.
Then the stillness was sharply broken by a hoarse whisper, "What was that, Bill?"
Billiard, thinking Toady had spoken to him, was about to reply when a second voice answered, "Only the wind, I reckon. Shut up."
"But it sounded like someone opened the door."
"You're as bad as an old woman with the fidgets," said the second voice crossly. "Go to sleep, can't you? At least, let me sleep. I tell you we're safe enough. The fools will never think of looking for us here. This is ahauntedhouse and no one ever comes here. When they get tired of scouring the desert and give up hunting for us, we'll light out, but until then we'vegotto lie low; and we might as well spend our time snoozing as to be worrying all the while."
"The bank robbers!" thought each boy to himself. What should they do? It would be impossible for two small boys to capture such desperadoes in the dead of night, especially as neither lad was armed, they argued. Their only course was to steal noiselessly away, rouse the sheriff, bring back a posse and surprise the men in hiding.
With one impulse, the terrified boys clasped hands, slipped cautiously out of the house, hardly daring to breathe for fear of being heard, and raced off along the road toward the sleeping town with all the speed they could muster. Once they fancied they heard a voice call to them, but this only increased their head-long flight. Their feet seemed fairly to skim over the ground, and when they reached the main street of the town they were breathless, exhausted and frightened almost past speaking.
"Where—does—the sheriff—live?" panted Billiard, as they tore down the last steep slope.
"Dunno," gasped Toady.
"Then how'll we find him?"
"Drug-store."
"It's shut."
"Ring the night bell."
And ring they did, sending peal after peal echoing through the silent building until the sleepy proprietor, dishevelled and wrathy, stumbled through the doorway, and demanded fiercely, "What the deuce is wanted?"
"The robbers—" half sobbed the boys.
"Well, they ain't here," snarled the angry druggist, not catching the meaning of their words. "Now you hike for home and the next time you want to play a practical joke——"
"Oh, this isn't a joke!" cried Toady imploringly. "We've found the sure 'nough robbers, but——"
"We aren't big enough to capture them," finished Billiard.
"Aw, come off!" said the man, beginning to see from the boys' demeanor that something was really wrong. "You are having a bad dream. How do you happen to be wandering around town this time of night?"
"We dared each other to visit the haunted house to see if there was a really ghost, like Susie said."
"And you found one, did you?" the druggist laughed sarcastically.
"Oh, this ain't a ghost. It's burglars, truly! They talked and we heard what they said," cried Toady with convincing earnestness.
"And whatdidthey say?" persisted the druggist, though in a different tone of voice.
Briefly they recounted their adventure in the vacant house, and as the man listened he took down the telephone, said a few words which the boys could not hear, and hung up the receiver again. Almost immediately there was a sound of footsteps without, and an armed citizen of Silver Bow appeared in the doorway, then another, and another, until a score or more had gathered just outside the building. There was a hasty consultation one with another, then the boys were bidden to repeat the story they had told the druggist, and after the men had heard the meagre details, the posse separated, vanishing one by one in the blackness. But instinctively the boys knew that they would attempt to surround the haunted house, and taking its occupants by surprise, would compel them to surrender.
They wanted to remain at the drug-store until the capture was effected, but the keeper ordered them home to bed, and they reluctantly obeyed, listening every step of the way for the sound of shots. But nothing occurred to mar the stillness of the night, and they wondered if the desperadoes had after all escaped. So anxious were they, and so nervous over their unusual experience that it seemed as if sleep would never come to close their eyes, as they lay once more in their bed at the Eagles' Nest; and they were astonished to find themselves waking up the next morning at the sound of someone knocking at their door.
"Who is it?" called Billiard, vaguely wondering if he could have dreamed all that had transpired during the past twelve hours.
"Susie," answered a voice from the hall. "The sheriff wants to see you."
"The sheriff?"
"Yes. Hurry up! The bank robbers have been caught and you have to go to the justice of the peace's office."
"Then it's really so," sighed Billiard in relief.
"Course it is!" retorted Toady, now thoroughly awake. "But what do you s'pose thesheriffwants us for?"
"Dunno. Quickest way to find out is to go down and see."
Susie and the twins were waiting for them when they emerged from their room, and ecstatically announced, "We're all going, too. They want you to bewitnesses, and Tabitha to take notes. No one else in town writes shorthand."
"But what is it all about?" demanded Billiard. "Ain't the robbers in jail?"
"We have no real jail here," explained Tabitha, who chanced to overhear his question. "When a man does anything that he has to go to prison for, they take him to the county seat. This court only tries to prove whether or not there is evidence enough to hold him for trial by the county. Hurry up, they are waiting for us. And children, remember, you must come straight back here after you take a look at the prisoners. Queer how youngsters want to see such things, isn't it? Perhaps it will be quite a while before I can get back, but I know I can trust you to keep out of mischief and mind Mercedes. Oh, Glory, I've got nervous chills already about taking that dictation. The lawyer who is to defend the robbers can talk like lightning."
"Fudge!" replied Gloriana reassuringly. "You won't have any trouble at all, I know. They will take into consideration the fact that you have no experience outside of school. Is this the place? What a funny looking court! Does he live here, too? The justice of peace, I mean."
"Why, Tabitha!" interrupted Irene, clutching the older girl by the arm. "Look there! That's our candy man,—the tallest one—and they've got him hand-cuffed. Does— Ishethe man they say robbed the bank? I don't believe he ever did it!"
"Hush!" warned Inez, giving her twin a vicious dig in the ribs. But the damage was already done.
"What do you mean?" demanded Tabitha, pausing on the threshold of the tiny, dirty room that served as courthouse for the town of Silver Bow.
"Yes, what do you mean?" asked one of the lawyers, who had chanced to overhear the remark.
"He made candy for us the day you went to the river and left us at home," explained Irene, ignoring the frowns of her partners in guilt.
"Tell us all about it."
Bit by bit the story came out, and to Irene's great grief it forged another link in the chain of evidence already so strong against the cheery stranger. "I don't want him to go to jail," she sobbed. "He's an awfully nice man."
"But, dear, he is a thief," Tabitha told her. "He ought to go to jail."
"If they'd only let him loose this time, I'm sure he would never steal again," the child staunchly maintained. But in spite of her faith in him, the "candy man," as the children continued to call him, was sent to the county seat for trial, convicted, and sentenced to a long term in prison.
"He shouldn't have stolen if he didn't want to go to prison," asserted Billiard virtuously. "If he hadn't robbed the bank, he never would have had to hide in the haunted house and we wouldn't have found them there."
"But as 'tis," added Toady, "they paid Billiard and me each fifty dollars for finding them. I mean the town paid us."
"Though you didn't discover whether there are any ghosts or not," said Susie much disappointed.
"Who cares?" retorted the boys, drawing out their little hoard of gold pieces and gloating over them. "I wish there were more haunted houses if they'd all pay us as well as this one did. Now, what shall we do with our money?"
"Only two weeks more of vacation," sighed Tabitha, sinking wearily into the hammock one August afternoon, and looking longingly away to the west where the train was just puffing into view. "I never dreamed we should be here all summer when I offered to take care of the kidlets for Mrs. McKittrick."
"Are you sorry?" asked Gloriana, glancing up from her sewing in surprise at the tone of Tabitha's voice.
"No, oh, no!" she answered hastily, for fear her companion would think she was complaining. "I don't regret staying here at all, for that was the only way Mr. McKittrick could get well; but still—I should have enjoyed getting a peek at the ocean again, and having a good time all around, like we'd surely have had with Myra."
"Yes, that would have been lovely," sighed Gloriana, who could not help feeling sorry that their vacation had not turned out as they had planned, although she admired Tabitha more than ever because of the unselfishness which had prompted her to shoulder such a responsibility in the first place.
"You see, I never have spent the summer at the seashore," Tabitha continued; "nor anywhere else, for that matter, except here in Silver Bow, since we came here to live; and I had planned so much on Myra's invitation. She is such a whirlwind for fun."
"It's too bad Miss Davis didn't let us know any sooner that she didn't intend to come back to the desert till fall. Perhaps we could have found someone else—"
"I'm afraid not. It's awfully hard to get anyone dependable away out here.Hired helpis simply out of the question. They think Silver Bow is beyond the bounds of civilization, I reckon."
"I don't blame them," began Gloriana impetuously; then blushed furiously, and stammered, "Oh, what did I say? What will you think of me? I didn't mean—"
"Yes, you did mean it," laughed her companion. "And I don't blameyou. I used to feel the same way myself."
"And did youreallyget over it?" Gloriana eagerly asked. "Do you truly like this—this desolate place now?"
"Ilove Silver Bow," she answered slowly, yet with emphasis. "I sometimes wonder what kind of a girl I would have been if we had stayed on at Dover or Ferndale, where there was no Carrie. Then there would have been no Ivy Hall, either, I suppose."
"And no me," half whispered the red-haired girl. "Then I should be thankful for the desert, too; because if it hadn't been for you, I never should have been adopted by the best people in the whole wide world, nor found an Uncle Jerry who really belongs to me. And anyway, there will be other summers, and the ocean will keep."
"No, it won't, either!" thrilled a bubbling voice behind them, and a red-faced, perspiring, disheveled figure swept around the corner of the house and plumped itself down in the hammock beside Tabitha whom she proceeded to hug rapturously.
"Myra!" gasped the black-haired girl, trying to return the embrace, but finding herself held fast by a pair of strong, sinewy arms.
"Myra!" echoed Gloriana, dropping her sewing and staring with fascinated eyes at the newcomer, who promptly dragged the lame girl from her chair into the already overloaded hammock and hugged her vigorously. "Where did you come from andhowdid you get here?"
"On the train," Myra paused long enough to pant, "and as to finding you,—haven't you described and sketched the Eagles' Nest often enough in your letters for me to know it when I saw it? I never even had to ask directions how to find the trail. Now just rustle your things together and we'll catch that train back to Los Angeles this afternoon. It leaves at three o'clock, doesn't it? I simply had to come after you, but it's too beastly hot to stay here a minute longer than necessary."
"But Myra, the children!" cried the two maids, looking oh! so eager at the mere thought of the seashore, but determined to turn their backs on temptation at once.
"Hark ye!" answered Myra in tragic tones. "What sound doth smite your ears? Or be youdeef?" Her abrupt change of tone and manner was too comical to be resisted, but her upraised hand checked the mirth of the other two, and they dutifully cocked their heads on one side and listened intently.
"The youngsters at play," both replied in the same breath.
"Is that all?"
"Yes."
"Then I guess you'redeef."
At that moment sturdy Rosslyn flew around the corner of the cottage, and throwing himself into Tabitha's lap shrieked out, "Kitty, Kitty, mamma's come, but papa must stay down there till it gets cooler."
"What!" whispered Tabitha, her face paling. "It can't be! Is she truly?"
Myra nodded solemnly.
"What wonderful things are happening—"
There was an ominous crack, the hammock rope snapped in two, and the quartette found themselves a tangled, huddled heap of arms and legs upon the piazza floor.
"Indeed, and I see nothing wonderful about that," spluttered Myra, who had just opened her lips to speak, when their downfall came, and in consequence she had shut her sharp teeth together on her tongue.
Gloriana scrambled to her feet, then laughed. She could not help it, for long-limbed Myra did look so funny, sprawled on the floor like a huge spider; and amazement was written so large upon Tabitha's face that sterner hearts than hers would have made merry at the picture which they presented. Rosslyn's wail of grief checked her mirth, however, and she came hastily to his rescue, but his mother had heard the outcry, and now appeared on the scene with the remainder of her brood clinging to her skirts, and Billiard and Toady following close at their heels.
"Well, for the land sakes!" she ejaculated, holding up her hands in surprise and amusement. "What a sight! Are any of you hurt? That's good! Now, girls, perhaps it will seem rude and ungrateful to rush you off this way, but I had orders to see that you caught the train back to Los Angeles this afternoon. So I reckon you will have to move lively, with your packing and all."
"Who gave you such orders?" demanded Tabitha in bewilderment, rubbing her eyes to make sure she was not dreaming.
"Your father. I met him in the city just as I was about to board the train for Silver Bow."
"But—but—"
"No 'buts' about it," put in Myra, still sucking her injured tongue. "I accidentally ran up against Mrs. McKittrick in Los Angeles, knew her at once because Mercy looks so much like her, discovered that she was planning to come back here before school opened; so I just attached myself to her and came along—"
"Aha!" crowed Gloriana jubilantly. "Then all that tale about finding the Eagles' Nest without help was a—fib!"
Myra's face crimsoned and her tell-tale eyes dropped, then lifted again, twinkling like twin stars. "Huh!" she giggled, "our detective again! Say, are you going to catch that train at three o'clock? If so, just take wings to your feet and fly for home. Mrs. McKittrick can hear all about everything when you get back. The children are alive and well, and that's the main point. I told her everything you had written me and—"
"Myra Haskell!"
"Well, she was on her way home and 'twas time she knew." She glanced across at Mrs. McKittrick, who smiled back through her tears. "And she says you are bricks. Also I told the station agent to send up his rig for your trunks, and if you don't make haste pretty lively, he'll be there before we are. I suppose your trunks are at your own house? That's where I told him to call. Now sling out the duds you've got here, and I'll pack them while you are getting slicked up. No, Mrs. McKittrick, I don't want another bite to eat, and it's evident from the looks of the house that either these folks don't get dinner, or else they have already eaten it."
"We've had it," volunteered Irene, "but it wasn't very good."
"Irene McKittrick!" gasped her mother.
"She is right," laughed Tabitha. "To-day was scrap dinner. We have it once a week to get rid of all the odds and ends. However, it isn't very popular. No, thanks, we won't need a lunch put up for us. If we get hungry before we reach Los Angeles, we'll patronize the diner. Sorry we can't stop to tell you all the news, but if Dad said we must go back on this train, I suppose we must. Where are you staying, Myra? Avalon? Catalina Island?"
"The very same."
Tabitha clasped her hands together and drew a deep breath. "How perfectly splendid!"
"I guess I'm dreaming," murmured Gloriana, half aloud, pinching herself vigorously to make sure she was really awake. "Do you get there by boat?"
"Of course, goosie! Did you think we took an airship? Hurry up, slowpokes!"
Laughing and chattering gleefully, the trio gathered up their possessions, made a hurried visit to the Catt cottage, packed their trunks, and were at the station long before the train rumbled its way back to the great city by the sea.
"We are going to have the grandest kind of a time," Myra told them. "All sorts of high jinks. We've got a dandy site for our camp,—a dozen tents—"
"A dozen!" cried Tabitha in a panic. "Why, who are with you? I thought it was just your family."
"You knew Gwynne was there?"
"Yes, but she wouldn't occupy a dozen tents. I'm scared!"
"You needn't be," mocked Myra soothingly. "I'll bet you will vote it the jolliest bunch you ever got mixed up with."
"Do I know any of them?"
"Do you consider yourself acquainted with Gwynne and me?"
"Of course. I meant any of the others."
"Well," Myra spoke dubiously, "if you don't, I think you will get acquainted easily." And with that remark she adroitly turned the conversation and managed to avoid that subject during the rest of their journey.
When the train drew into the dingy little depot the next morning, and the trio gathered up their wraps preparatory to alighting, Tabitha was suddenly heard to ejaculate, "Why, there is Dad! And he's talking with—Miss Pomeroy, as sure as I'm alive! Myra Haskell, is Miss Pomeroy occupying one of those twelve tents?"
Myra glanced hastily through the iron gates, saw that Tabitha was right, and demurely nodded her head.
"Then I can imagine who the others are."
"Bet you can't! At least, not all."
"Bet I can!"
"Who, then, smarty?"
"Grace Tilton, Bessie Jorris, Jessie Wayne, Julia, Chrystie—isChrystie there?"
"Wait and find out," teased Myra.
"Possibly Madeline and Vera,—in fact, all our bunch."
Myra merely laughed, and as they were now spied by Mr. Catt and his companion, there was no further opportunity for discussion; for, after a hasty greeting all around, the man seized all the grips he could manage, and made for the street, saying briskly, "We must hurry. The boat goes at ten, and it is quite a ride to San Pedro."
"I hope," panted Tabitha, trotting along at the rear of the procession, tugging a heavy suit-case, "that you don't have your fun in such a hurry."
"What do you mean?" Myra demanded.
"Well, it's been nothing but hustle since we started out yesterday afternoon, and I was just wondering if that's the atmosphere of your camp, too."
"Perhaps you will think so," laughed Myra; "for there certainly are few idle minutes with us."
"How long has the bunch been at Avalon? Surely not all summer, or you never could have kept it secret for such a while."
"No," Myra acknowledged, "only—but there, not another question till we reach Catalina. Then you can ask all you want. I've said too much already. First thing I know, you will guess the rest of our surprise." And the girl resolutely closed her lips.
"Restof the surprise," mused Tabitha to herself, when further questions failed to bring forth any more information, and Myra was devoting her attention to quiet Gloriana. "I wonder what it can be. Seems as if there had been about all the surprises one human being could expect in twenty-four hours. Who would ever imagine that Dad would go on a jaunt like this? Isn't it great to be alive in this day and age?"
She fell to dreaming over the many changes that had come to pass in her life during one short year, and was only roused from her revery by Myra's gripping her shoulder and shouting in her ear, "The boat is whistling its warning now. Not a minute to spare. Run, Kit, run!" And again the little company tore frantically down the street toward the dock where theCabrillowas tugging at her anchor, waiting for the signal to steam away to the Enchanted Isle on her daily voyage.
It was the first time either Tabitha or Gloriana had been on the ocean; and with rapturous hearts they drank in every detail of their brief trip, counted the flying fish that darted out of the water on either side of them, watched the foam dashing high against the bow of the vessel, wondered at the long ribbon of silent water which the ship left in its wake, and were sorry when suddenly Myra called, "There's the island. We are almost there. Now for the fun! There's a bride and groom on board."
"How do you know?"
"Didn't you hear the whistle blow?"
"Sure, but I supposed it was to tell the islanders that we were coming. Doesn't it always whistle?"
"Yes, but not like it did just now. That's the way they have of letting the folks at Avalon know when there is a recently married couple on board. Then the men are ready and waiting at the dock with a wheelbarrow."
"A wheelbarrow! What on earth do they want of a wheelbarrow?" demanded both girls at once.
"Just for fun. They cart the groom all around the island in it and make a fearful racket. Regular chivari."
"How mean!" cried Gloriana compassionately.
"Oh, it's fun," Myra declared. "They like it. I believe an Avalon citizen who didn't get treated that way would feel insulted, really. Here we are at the landing, and there is the wheelbarrow brigade. It's Murphy, the ice-man, who got married this time. See, he's as proud as a peacock at the prospect."
"Yes, but look at the poor little bride," said Gloriana indignantly. "She is scared stiff."
"Bet she's game," replied Myra, after a quick scrutiny of the little, shrinking woman, clinging to the arm of the big, burly Irishman, as they stepped briskly down the gangplank.
"Do they put her in the wheelbarrow, too?" cried Tabitha in amazement.
"Oh, dear, no——"
"They will this one," said the bride with startling suddenness, having chanced to overhear both question and answer. "If they cart my Pat around town in that kind of a rig, they cart me, too." And to the delight and amusement of the crowd gathered to greet theCabrillo'spassengers, the little lady tucked herself in the barrow beside her husband and was trundled away by the surprised citizens, who had never wheeled just such a cargo before.
"'Here comes the bride'," a voice began to sing; the crowd took it up, and amid a shower of bright-colored confetti, the plucky bride disappeared down the street still seated beside her smiling Pat.
So intent was Tabitha in watching the queer procession that she had not noticed the quiet approach of a bevy of happy-faced girls; but now, as she turned toward Myra with the remark, "She's clear grit. I'd choose a wife like that if I were a man," she found the laughing eyes of Grace Tilton staring at her, and before she could find her tongue to voice her surprise, Gwynne's regal head bobbed through the crowd toward her. Jessie and Julia, Vera and Kate, all her particular friends at Ivy Hall, seemed to spring up around her, and although half expecting to find them there, she stood transfixed with amazement, silently regarding them one by one, while they in silence stared back at her. Then the circle parted, and among the familiar faces of her schoolmates appeared another, which dimpled and smiled and nodded engagingly, and Tabitha awoke with a start.
"Carrie Carson!" she cried, and ran straight into the outstretched arms of the golden-haired girl.
"Kitty, my puss!" whispered Carrie, cuddling the black head dropped on her shoulder; and the other girls thoughtfully turned away to watch the sea-gulls careening about the mastheads of the bigCabrillo.
But after a moment, that sweet, familiar voice spoke again, and turning back, the Ivy Hall girls saw Carrie stretching out her hands to timid Gloriana, as she said, "So this is my other sister, my Gloriana! It seems as if I had always known you. We are going to have great times at Ivy Hall this year. Come on, girls, the glass bottom boat is to take us to the Marine Gardens right after dinner, and we'll have to hurry, or be late."
Myra turned to Tabitha with a comical grimace, and said, "What did I tell you? Hurry's the word."
Then a babel of voices broke loose, all laughing and talking at once, and in triumph Tabitha and Gloriana were escorted to Ivy Hall Camp.