The next morning Mrs. Gardiner sent Mr. Landsdowne to interview the
police force of the township in which the Centerville Road belonged, and
he brought the whole force back with him. He had to bring the whole
force if he brought any for it embraced only one man and he was well
along in years, but he had a uniform and a helmet and a club and a gun,
and presented an imposing appearance as he strutted up and down the
yard, before which an evil doer might be moved to pause. The three girls
from town had departed and Nakwisi had left her spy glass behind in the
excitement, and this was a source of great entertainment to the rural
gendarme. He spent a great deal of time sliding the lens back and forth
to fit his eye and peering up the road into the distance, or looking up
into the air, as if he expected to see the burglar approaching in an
airship. He was very talkative and fond of recounting the captures he
had made single handed, and declared solemnly that the man in this case
was as good as caught already, for no one had ever escaped yet when Dave
Beeman had started out to get him.
Nyoda, who was fond of seeing her theories worked out, still held to the
idea that the mysterious visitor was someone who wanted the job of
caretaker, and inquired closely of Farmer Landsdowne who the men were
who had applied for the position. When it came down to fact there was
only one who had really wanted the job very badly, although several
others had mentioned the fact that they wouldn’t mind doing it, and that
man had found a similar situation immediately afterward and left the
neighborhood. So her theory did not seem to be inclined to hold water.
She had another idea, however, and wrote to Mr. Mitchell, asking if he
had ever heard strange noises in the attic while he lived there. Mr.
Mitchell answered and said that not only had he heard strange noises in
the attic, but also in the cellar and in the barn, and that pieces of
furniture had apparently moved themselves in the middle of the night;
and it was on this account that he had left the place, as it made his
wife so nervous she became ill. This fact put a new face on the matter.
The hostility, then, was not directed against themselves personally, but
against the tenants of the house, no matter who they were. But this idea
left them more in the dark than ever, and they lost a good deal of sleep
over it without reaching any solution.
After a few days of zealous watching, during which time nothing
happened, the police force of Centerville township gave it up as a bad
job and relaxed its vigilance, declaring that the firebug must have
gotten out of the country, for that was the only way he could hope to
escape his eagle eye. “If he was still in the country, I’d a’ had him by
this time”, Dave Beeman asserted confidently. “So as long as he’s gone
that far you don’t need to worry any more.” And he took himself off,
eager to get back to the quiet game of pinochle in Gus Wurlitzer’s
grocery store, which Farmer Landsdowne had interrupted several days ago.
It was just about this time that Migwan had her biggest order for canned
tomatoes—from a fashionable private sanitarium a few miles distant, and
the rush of canning gradually took their minds off the mysterious
intruder. Migwan, picking her finest and ripest tomatoes to fill this
order, noticed that a number of the vines were drooping and turning
yellow. The half ripe tomatoes were falling to the ground and rotting.
One whole end of the bed seemed to be affected. She looked carefully for
insects and found none. Some of the leaves seemed worse shrivelled than
others. In perplexity she called Mr. Landsdowne over to look at them. He
looked closely at the plants and also seemed puzzled as to the cause of
the mysterious blight. “It isn’t rot,” he said, “because the bed is high
and dry and the plants have never stood in water.” Upon looking closely
he discovered that the affected plants were covered with a fine white
coating. He gave a smothered exclamation. “Do you know what that is?” he
asked. “It’s lime! Somebody has sprayed your plants with a solution of
lime. Are you sure you didn’t do it yourself?” he asked, quizzically.
Migwan shook her head. “I haven’t sprayed those plants with anything for
a month,” she asserted, “and neither has anyone else in the house.”
“Somebody outside of the house has done it, then,” said Mr. Landsdowne.
The work of the mysterious visitor again! It struck dismay into the
breasts of the whole household. They never knew when and where that hand
was going to strike next. And so silently, so mysteriously, without ever
leaving a trace behind!
There was nothing left to do but dig up the dead plants and throw them
away. Migwan almost stopped breathing when she thought that the rest of
the bed might be treated in the same way, and the source of her revenue
cut off. But why was all this happening? What could anyone possibly have
against the peaceful dwellers at Onoway House?
A guard was set over the tomato bed both day and night for a week and
the big order for the sanitarium was filled as fast as the tomatoes
ripened. Nothing at all happened during this time and the vigilance was
relaxed. A large dog was turned loose in the garden at night and they
felt secure in his protection. This dog belonged to Calvin Smalley. When
he had left his uncle’s house he had to leave Pointer behind, as he did
not know what else to do with him, but now that the Gardiners were
willing to have him he went over and got him when he knew his uncle was
away from the house, so he would not have to meet him. Pointer was
overjoyed at seeing his young master again and attached himself to the
household at once, and never made the slightest effort to go back to his
old home. He had a deep, heavy bark which could not fail to rouse the
house at once. With the coming of Pointer the girls breathed easily
again.
One day when Migwan had gone over to see the Landsdownes, Mr. Landsdowne
had given her a treasure for her garden. This was a plant of a rare
species called Titania Gloria, which a friend had brought from Bermuda.
It was a first year growth and so would not bloom until the following
summer. Migwan planted it along the fence beside the mint bed and
treasured it like gold, for the blossom of the Titania Gloria was a
wonderful shade of blue and was considered a prize by fanciers, who paid
high prices for cuttings of the plant. In the excitement over the tepee
and the tomato plants, however, she forgot to tell the other girls about
it, so she was the only one who knew what a precious thing that little
bed of leaves was.
The weather was so fine that week that Migwan decided to have a garden
party and invite a number of friends from town. Gladys promised to dance
and the boys cleared a circle for her in the grass under the trees,
picking up every stick that lay on the ground. Mrs. Landsdowne, hearing
about the party, offered to make ice cream for them in her freezer. Just
before the guests arrived Migwan and Calvin went over after it. They
took the raft, because they thought that would be the easiest way of
transporting the heavy tub. Migwan rode on the raft and supported the
tub and Calvin walked along the bank and pulled the tow line. His
eagerness to help with the festivity was somewhat pathetic. Never, to
his knowledge, had there been a party at the Smalley House. The way
these girls planned a party out of a clear sky and carried out their
plans without delay was nothing short of marvelous to him. They were
always at their ease with company, while it was a fearful ordeal for him
to meet strangers. He liked to be a part of such doings; but was at a
loss how to act. Migwan, with her fine understanding of things beneath
the surface, saw that this boy was lonesome in the crowd, not knowing
how to mix in and have a glorious time on his own account, and she
always saw to it that his part was mapped out for him in all their
doings. Therefore she chose him to help her bring the ice cream over.
Calvin, happy at being useful, towed the raft carefully and turned his
head whenever Migwan spoke, so as to give strict attention to her words.
Doing this, he fell over the branch of a tree in the path and jerked the
rope violently. The raft tipped up and both Migwan and the tub of ice
cream went into the river. Migwan climbed out on the bank before Calvin
was up from the ground. He was aghast at what he had done. He had been
so eager to help with the party and now he had spoiled it! That he would
be instantly expelled from Onoway House he was sure, and he felt that he
deserved it. Migwan, at least, would never speak to him again.
Speechless, he turned piteous eyes to where she sat on the bank
dripping. To his surprise she was doubled up with laughter. “What are
you laughing at?” he asked, startled.
“Because you upset the raft and the ice cream fell into the river!”
giggled Migwan. Calvin gasped. The very thing that was nearly killing
him with chagrin was the cause of her mirth! It was the first time he
had ever seen anyone make light of a calamity. Her mirth was so
contagious that he began to laugh himself. Still laughing, he brought
the tub out of the river and set it on the bank. The water had washed
away the packing of ice, but the lid on the inner can was providentially
tight and the ice cream was unharmed. That little incident crystallized
the friendship between the two. After that he was Migwan’s slave. A girl
who could be thrown into the river without getting vexed was a friend
worth having. Dripping, they returned to the house, where the
preparations for the party were at their height, to be laughed at
immoderately and christened the “Water Babies.”
To Hinpoha the Artistic had been entrusted the setting of the tables.
Her decorations were water lilies from the river, and when she had
finished it looked as if a feast had been spread for the river nymphs.
Around the edges of the platter she put bunches of bright mint leaves.
Her artistic efforts called out so much praise from the guests that she
was in a continual state of blushing as she waited on the table.
“What’s the matter with your hand?” asked Migwan, noticing that she was
passing things around left handedly.
“Nothing,” said Hinpoha, “nothing much. I slipped when I was getting the
lilies and fell on my wrist and it feels lame, that’s all.”
“Is it sprained?” asked Migwan.
“Oh, no,” said Hinpoha, “I don’t think so.”
“It’s all swelled up,” said Migwan, holding up the injured wrist. “Let
me paint it with iodine and tie it up for you.”
Hinpoha maintained that it was nothing serious, but Migwan insisted.
“Where is the iodine, mother?” she asked.
“On the pantry shelf,” answered Mrs. Gardiner. Migwan got the bottle and
painted Hinpoha’s wrist before the party could proceed. Hinpoha surveyed
the brown stripe around her arm rather disgustedly. It was for this very
reason that she had said nothing about the wrist before. She did not
want it painted up for the party. It offended her artistic eye and she
would rather suffer in silence.
While the guests were sitting at the tables Gladys danced on the lawn
for their entertainment. The merry laughter was hushed in surprise and
delight at her fairylike movements. In the silence which reigned at this
time the thing which happened was distinctly heard by everyone.
Apparently from the depths of the earth there came a muffled thud, thud,
as of a pick striking against hard ground. It kept up for a few minutes
and then ceased, to be renewed again after a short interval. The
dwellers at Onoway House looked at each other. Into each mind there
sprang the story of the Deacon’s well, and the words of Farmer
Landsdowne, “_Superstitious folks say you can still hear the buried well
digger striking with his pick against the ground that covers him._” It
was the most mysterious sound, far away and faint, yet seemingly right
under their very feet. Gladys heard it and paused in her dancing.
Pointer and Mr. Bob both heard it and began to bark. In a little while
the thudding noise ceased and was heard no more, and the company were
all left wondering if they could have been the victims of imagination.
“Maybe it’s somebody down cellar,” said Calvin, and taking Pointer with
him, went down. Tom followed him. But there was no sign of anyone down
there. Pointer ran around with his nose to the ground as if he were
smelling for footsteps, but his tail kept wagging all the while. They
were all familiar footsteps he scented. Nothing was out of place in the
cellar except that a basket of potatoes was thrown over and the potatoes
had rolled out on the cement floor. The boys noticed this without
thinking anything of it. The mystery of the well digger’s ghost remained
unsolved.
In the cool of the early evening after her guests had departed, Migwan
wandered down into the garden to look at her various plants and flowers.
It occurred to her that she had not paid her Titania Gloria a visit for
several days. But what a sight met her eyes when she reached the spot
where the precious thing had been planted! Not a single bit was left.
The clean cut stalks showed where they had been clipped off close to the
ground. Migwan started up with a cry of dismay which brought the other
girls running to her side. “My Titania Gloria!” gasped Migwan. “Look!
The mysterious visitor has been at work again!” And she told them about
the valuable cuttings that had disappeared so uncannily.
“We never hear that ghost but what something happens after it!” said
Gladys, in an awestruck tone. The girls peered apprehensively into the
shadows of the tall trees surrounding the garden.
“What’s up?” asked Hinpoha, joining the group. Migwan pointed to the
devastated bed. “What’s the matter with it?” asked Hinpoha.
“My Titania Gloria!” said Migwan. “It’s been clipped off at the roots.”
“Your what?” asked Hinpoha. Migwan explained about the rare plant Farmer
Landsdowne had given her. Hinpoha gave a sudden start and exclamation.
“What did you say it was?” she asked.
“A Titania Gloria,” answered Migwan.
“Well, girls, I’m the guilty one, then,” said Hinpoha, “for I cut those
plants off thinking they were mint. That was what I decorated the
platters with this afternoon. Do anything you like with me, Migwan, beat
me, hang me to a tree, put my feet in stocks, or anything, and I’ll make
no resistance.” She was absolutely frozen to the spot when she realized
what she had done.
Migwan, grieved as she was over the loss of her cherished Titania, yet
had to laugh at the depths of Hinpoha’s mortification. “You old goose!”
she said, putting her arms around her, “don’t take it so to heart! It’s
my fault, not yours at all, because I didn’t tell anyone what that plant
was. And the leaves do look just like mint.” Thus she comforted the
discomfited Hinpoha.
“Migwan,” said her mother, when they had returned to the house, “where
did you get that iodine with which you painted Hinpoha’s wrist this
afternoon?”
“On the pantry shelf, just where you told me,” answered Migwan.
“Well,” said her mother, “I told you wrong. The iodine is up on my
wash-stand.”
“Then what was in the brown bottle on the pantry shelf?” asked Migwan.
The bottle was produced.
“Why,” said Mrs. Gardiner, “that’s walnut stain, guaranteed not to wear
off!”
Then there was a laugh at Migwan’s expense!
“Old Migwan Hubbard
She went to the cupboard,
To get iodine in a phial,
But she couldn’t read plain,
And brought walnut stain,
And now her poor patient looks vile!”
chanted Sahwah.
“You’re even now,” said Gladys, “you’ve each scored a trick.”
“‘_We do this to each other!_’” said Migwan and Hinpoha in the same
breath, and locked fingers and made a wish according to the time-honored
custom.