Cleo F. Garis

“ She laughed and added: “What will people think when all this comes out?”
“There is no need for it to come out,” said Harry. “There is no need for anyone except ourselves knowing that Mrs. Tucker was the ghost. As for the old stories, they will always be told, I suppose—stories of Nathaniel Greene and Patience Howe. But they will gradually die down when the Hall is gone. So there is no reason why Mrs. Tucker need be exposed. We can keep the secret among ourselves.”
“I think that would be best,” Granny said. “Oh, what a wonderful Christmas this has been!” ”

“ Having carried the unconscious man out of the cellar, the men stood at the top of the steps leading down into the darkness, awkwardly holding their burden. The girls had a momentary glimpse of Jim Danton’s face. There was blood on it. With a little shudder and murmur of horror Dorothy turned away.
“Poor fellow!” murmured Sim.
“Can’t we do something to help?” asked Terry.
“You ought to put him down—lay him down flat!” commanded Arden. “There may be broken bones! It isn’t doing him any good to hold him all crumpled that way.”
“He ought to have a doctor!” declared the contractor. ”

“ The Christmas Party
Harry Pangborn came over to dinner and to spend the evening. It was a most delightful meal, for Moselle and Althea had done their best, which was very good indeed. But it was the talk, the banter and laughter that lent spice to the food. Young folks are inimitable at that sort of thing.
“It certainly is mystifying,” Harry had to admit when he was told, more in detail, what Dot had sketched to him over the telephone about the “mistletoe” experience of Sim and Arden. “Very strange. You say there was no more sign of other footprints than your own?” ”

“ One day, as the poor, tired army was forced to go still farther back beyond the advancing British troops, a wounded soldier was carried into the house. Nathaniel Greene, his name was, and his comrades begged Patience to take him in and keep him, for he would surely die if made to march in the bitter cold. Patience hid him in her own room, disguised herself as an old servant, and moved out here to live.”
“What a—girl!” breathed Arden, as Granny paused a moment.
“Imagine waiting on a wounded soldier,” followed up Terry.
“And imagine the danger she was in,” concluded Sim. ”

“ Sim decided. “Arden, you get the prize of a fur-lined Santa Claus suit in which to make the announcement to Granny!”
“Oh, won’t it be fun!” sighed Terry. “How long until Christmas?” and she began to count on her fingers. The ankle was now being all but forgotten.
“Then we’ll regard it as settled,” said Arden. “I’m so glad I thought of this, and so glad you mentioned having it in the Hall, Dot. Things are looking distinctly brighter; in fact, they begin to shine!”
“In spite of the fact that we haven’t solved the mystery,” added Sim.
“But we shall!” predicted Harry. ”

“ The Ghost of Patience
“Move over, Terry, give me a look!” demanded Sim, elbowing her way nearer to the long mirror before which Terry was admiring herself.
“There’s plenty of room and at least two more mirrors within easy walking distance,” Terry replied. “Why we all have to congregate in here, I don’t know.”
“It’s more fun, that’s why,” Arden crisply replied. “And we can talk better. Moselle can hear every word we say if we call to each other from room to room. Don’t forget she’s under suspicion too.” ”

“ Several rather tense seconds passed after the jolly holiday greetings before Granny Howe recovered her usual poise. The smile that had been on her cheery face when Dick and Betty led her into the fire-warmed and candlelighted room of the old mansion, and she had seen the merry young people, faded as she sank into the rocker. ”

“ When the three girls had finished lunch in Sim’s beautiful home on the outskirts of Pentville, a few miles from Jockey Hollow, Arden went to the library across the hall and began to scan the shelves impatiently.
“Know anything about these books, Sim?” she asked.
“Yes, of course I do. What do you want to know?”
“I want to find out something about our Revolution. Perhaps we can get a volume that will tell who really lived in Sycamore Hall in Jockey Hollow.”
“That’s a great idea, Arden! At times you seem almost brilliant,” laughed Sim. ”

“ Terry argued. “Mr. Callahan might claim, as they say they do in some insurance policies, that it was an act of God, an unforeseen calamity, and so get out of it—I mean he might say it was the ghost of Jockey Hollow.”
“I hardly believe he would do that,” remarked Arden, brushing her hair vigorously. “But it surely is puzzling. Well, we’ll see what Harry Pangborn can figure out of it, though I think, since we sort of promised, in a way we should try and do something for the Danton family. There is no social service agency around here.” ”

“ Mr. Callahan turned a pleased face to Sim as he handed back the lighter. “There! These men didn’t run. I guess they’re onto the trick.” He started toward the house, then stopped and said: “If you girls want to see the ghost you may as well. Come in with me, I’ll show you what’s been scaring my men.” There was a bragging tone in his hearty voice, and a confident tread in his heavy stride.
The girls needed no urging, quickly getting out of the car and following the triumphant lead of the contractor through the light snow. ”

“ Harry promised. “I’ll go see Dick at the livery stable in the morning and also stop at the library and tell Betty. I’ve been in there for books before.”
“What about Viney?” asked Sim. “Should she be told?”
“I’ll leave that to Dick and Betty,” said Harry. “They can use their best judgment. I only hope she doesn’t break up the little affair. She’s very queer, you say?”
“More than queer—vindictive,” declared Arden. ”

“ Arden demanded.
They seemed confused at that straightforward question.
“No,” one finally murmured.
“Then come back to the house with me!” insisted Arden. “We girls will go with them, Mr. Callahan,” she promised. “We’ll have another good look all around. There is nothing in that house to harm anyone. And we don’t believe in ghosts, so the man must be found.”
“If it comes to a question of ghosts, miss,” said a tall, lanky man, “I don’t believe in ’em myself. But when a man is snatched away, you might say, right from under your nose, why, that’s something different.” ”

“ Betty did not need to add the word “queer,” Arden could see that for herself. But there was nothing abnormal about Viney Tucker. She had once been a handsome woman, Arden reasoned, perhaps even more so than Granny Howe.
“Cousin Viney helps Granny with the work, as she used to do when we all lived in the Hall,” Betty hurried to say. “But don’t bother about her. She goes and comes as and when she pleases. But the man in the cellar—the dead man. Oh, I was so frightened! What shall we do?”
“This probably explains the whole mystery,” said Arden. ”

“ Arden took the book eagerly. It was pitifully small, she thought regretfully, but thanked the librarian and, after having it stamped, left to get one of the rickety village cabs and tell the girls all about it.
It was odd though that Betty Howe was not there, and she had not appeared at tea, either. “Oh, well,” thought Arden, “perhaps she’s gone into New York or some place.” And holding the precious book close to her, she climbed into old Pop Warner’s car and told him to take her to Sim’s house. He was a talkative old man, and he knew Arden and her friends quite well. ”

“ I just don’t believe them. Though, I suppose, there must be something queer, for there are many stories dating back a long time. And surely those workmen wouldn’t act as they did unless something happened. And that one poor man wouldn’t purposely slide down an ash-chute, I think. But it’s all a mystery to me.”
[235]
“Do you know any more stories about the place you haven’t told us?” asked Arden. “I mean a sort of ghost story that isn’t about Patience Howe or Nathaniel Greene?”
“I might manage to remember one,” smiled Granny.
“Oh, do tell us!” begged Terry and Sim. ”

“ Dorothy asked.
“Work,” echoed Arden. “What Harry does is never just—work.” She had called him “Harry,” and a self-conscious flush made her look even prettier.
“I understand Jockey Hollow, with its Revolutionary associations, is to be made a state or national park,” Harry went on, smiling kindly at Arden. “The bird sanctuary will only be incidental to its historic value. ”

“ They all seem to be spirits of soldiers, farmers, and sometimes there’s the ghost of a lovely girl,” Dick went on. “You see this place was built during the Revolution. The Continental army ‘dug in’ at Jockey Hollow, here, for the winter of 1779.”
Terry, growing bolder, preceded the others into the hall. Rooms very much dilapidated were on either side. One room, probably a parlor, was dominated by an enormous fireplace with a faded picture above it.
“Oh, girls, come here!” Terry called. “Look at this! Is this your girl ghost, Dick?” ”

“ She talked about it a lot afterwards. No, I don’t believe in that ghost business myself. It’s just a lot of tricks those workmen think funny,” he suggested boyishly.
“Tell him about the scream you heard, Harry,” suggested Dorothy to the young man she was riding beside. As if that might change Dick’s opinion.
“No, I think I’d better not,” Harry answered. “I want to find that screamer first. Then, I’ll tell the big story.”
They broke into a brisk canter. It was a splendid ride in the friendly snow, and in due time they reached the old Hall. ”

“ We’ll knock off now. And I’m a thousand times obliged to you young ladies for all you’ve done—and are doing,” he added as he saw Arden and Sim getting into the car, while in the rumble seat a man was carefully holding the still unconscious Jim, supporting his head very gently as the car started.
“We’ll be back as soon as we can,” Sim called to Terry and Dot as they walked, with Betty, toward the little cottage.
“Don’t hurry,” was the answer. “We’ll be all right. And do all you can for the poor man.”
“This will be a surprise for Granny,” said Betty as she led the way to the cottage. ”

“ One of them said:
“Then I guess Jim couldn’t have gone into that closet like Nate thought he did. Though he may have gone in there, and have come out without Nate seeing him. Next he went into the fireplace room and, somehow or other, he slipped down the ash-chute.”
“That’s the way of it,” said Mr. Callahan. “It explains everything, boys, and tomorrow we’ll get on this job and clean it up. The mystery is all solved.”
“In my eye!” someone muttered.
“What makes you say that, Nate Waldon?” asked the contractor.
“Because Jim did disappear right out of the closet. I know it. ”

“ Jim said he would. He tried, but—the ghost got him!”
She hid her face in her folded arms on the table and sobbed. The little girl looked frightened.
“Stop!” commanded Arden. “You mustn’t give way like this. Everything is going to be all right. Your husband isn’t badly hurt. He will get well!”
“But how can we live, meanwhile?” She raised her tear-stained face.
“I will see Mr. Callahan about that,” said Sim determinedly. “He must carry workmen’s compensation insurance. My father does in his stores. You will be looked after. ”

“ Sim assented. “Take him to my car. Come on, Arden. We certainly have run into something all right—whether or not it’s a mystery will develop later. But about you girls?” she asked, looking at Dot and Terry and, incidentally, at Betty.
“We’ll wait here until you two come back,” Terry suggested.
“Please come with me and have some tea at our cottage,” invited Betty. “You can wait there.”
“That will be better,” Arden accepted. As the men started to carry Jim to Sim’s car, she inquired, of no one in particular: “Where did you find him, and is there any explanation of how he got into the cellar?” ”

“ But doesn’t it all hinge on the fact that papers—deeds, wills, or something—are necessary for me to prove my claim?”
“Yes, I suppose it would be much easier if you had the missing papers,” said Harry. “But I understand they cannot be found, so we must do the best we can without them.”
“They have been lost for many years,” sighed Granny. “With them to prove my claim and the claims of my grandchildren, everything would be easy. Years ago I used to hunt day and night in this old house for those papers, for I always felt they must be hidden here. ”

“ Granny ought to have little comforts, though really she’s been swell about it all. Never complains. And the stories she knows!”
“What does she say about the ghosts?” Sim asked.
“Just laughs. She says she’d sleep here on All Souls’ Eve or any other particularly ghostly time. I guess she likes ghosts.”
“I’d love to meet her sometime. Do you think we might? I wish we could help some way,” said Arden thoughtfully.
“I’ll ask her. I’m sure she would. She leads rather a lonely life,” Dick answered. “And she loves young folks.”
“Say, Dick, who is this girl in the picture? ”

“ Terry answered, “but we were all together in the living room when we heard the noise.”
“Dick said there were no workmen in the house when I suggested it might be they who were responsible for the manifestations, so apparently he knew we were alone there,” Sim said. “It does seem as though he knows more than we think.”
[71]
“We will each have to report what we were doing and what we heard as we were in the house. Your story comes later in the course of events, Dot. You check up on us and ask questions when we leave anything out. Now——” Arden took a deep breath. ”

“ There was silence a moment, and Granny, looking from one to another, said gently:
“It is kind of you—more kind than I can appreciate now. I’m all in a flutter!” She laughed a little. “But I have for so long a time given up hope that now I don’t just know how to get hopeful again. I don’t want to discourage any of you, especially Mr. Pangborn, for I realize all he has done in getting this concession from the Park Commission. ”

“ Arden and Terry were Sim’s guests over the holidays until it should be time to return to Cedar Ridge College, where they were freshmen. A last-moment idea had been to invite Dot Keene, also a freshman, to make one of the house party. Now, it appeared, Dot was coming.
Although Arden and Terry had their own fine homes in Pentville, not far removed from the Westover residence, they thought it much more fun to come and live with Sim and help her manage over the Christmas vacation. Like all girls, they were sure they could do it if once given the chance. ”

“ So did Dot and Terry: it was their introduction to Viney Tucker. Arden had already met her, as Betty announced. She added:
“Don’t mind her. She’s Granny’s cousin—just a little odd—though I don’t need to tell you that. But she’s kind and good,” she explained as Mrs. Howe went out to get more hot water. “She thinks the world and all of Granny and of Dick and me. But there is no use denying she is a bit trying at times, and she often embarrasses us when we have company—which isn’t as often as I’d like,” and Betty smiled at her two new friends to make them sure of their welcome. ”

“ I came out here to the old smokehouse to get away from everybody. Folks get on my nerves—more than often! This old smokehouse sort of sets me up—better than the perfume you girls use. Bah!”
Sim and Arden were aware of a distinctly smoky odor floating out to them above the head of Viney Tucker. They were aware, now, of the use to which the small stone building had formerly been put. In the old days hams and bacon were cured there over a fire of hickory branches and corncobs, and that smoky smell always remained. It was a curious whim of the old lady to come there for solitude ”

“ Arden said sarcastically. “You have to get out where there is some room for ghosts. Like Pentville or Jockey Hollow.”
“Don’t you believe us, Dot?” Terry asked. Dot just smiled.
[48]
“We’ll show you. What do you say, girls—shall we go over to Jockey Hollow before we go home? The bags will be safe. Our ghost isn’t a thief.” Sim slowed down at the junction where one road led to the Hollow, which they would pass as they went to Sim’s house, though at some distance.
“Yes! Let’s go, Sim. If you’re not afraid of the car on those roads,” Terry said, plainly anxious to go back to Sycamore Hall. ”

“ The two grandchildren would escort Mrs. Howe to the old mansion the evening of the affair, at a predetermined hour, on pretense that it would probably be the last Christmas she would ever see with the old house standing.
It was the day before Christmas. Dick and Harry, with the help of a stable boy, had brought much dry wood into the old Hall. The girls had, each one, bought some little token for Granny and something for Viney, “in case,” Arden said, “she shows up at the last moment and starts a fuss. We’ll have to treat her like a child.” ”

“ They must pick up Terry and Dot.
“Well,” remarked Sim as she speeded the little roadster along, “we’ve got something to think of now.”
“I think,” said Arden seriously as she recalled the pathetic scene back at Jim Danton’s house, “that we have a stronger motive than ever in finding out about this ghost business—I mean a stronger motive than just trying to help Granny Howe prove her right to the place.”
[139]
“There is something queer under all this, Sim. Men shouldn’t be hurt like this just because, possibly, somebody is playing jokes. I’m going to find out the secret of Jockey Hollow!” ”