A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE
Like game dogs, Tom Swift and Ned Newton froze in their tracks and
stood in the rain near the deserted house, waiting for they knew not
what. It was a lonesome, dreary place, dense woods being all around
them, and ahead, though some miles distant, the sinister summit of
Dismal Mountain with its suggestion of mystery. Only the fact that
the warm, comfortable and cozily lighted House on Wheels was near by
heartened the young men. They were rather tired from their trip, with
fighting the elements, and digging the heavy auto out of bog holes.
For several seconds they stood there, Tom seeking to tune his ears to
what Ned had said he had heard--a noise in the deserted house. But as
no sounds came to him, the young inventor began to believe that his
chum was mistaken.
"Guess it was only the storm," he said, still pitching his voice low.
"Maybe," agreed Ned. "Yet at first I was sure the sound came from the
house."
"It might at that, and still nobody need be in it," Tom suggested.
"In an old, deserted place like this there are always doors to swing,
windows to rattle, and shutters to slam."
"I suppose so," agreed Ned. "Well, shall we go in and have a look
around?"
"I don't know that it will do us any good or that we can learn anything
by going in this old mansion," was Tom's comment. "Yet as long as we're
here we might as well go in. If we're going to stay here all night----"
"Stay here all night!" interrupted Ned, in surprise.
"I don't mean in there," and Tom pointed to the dark and silent
mansion, "but in our own House. If we're going to camp out here it's
just as well to know the character of our neighbor."
"Sure," assented Ned. "Well, come on in and let's get it over with.
Then we'll eat. I'm hungry!"
"So am I. Got your flashlight?" and Tom produced one of these handy
little portable torches.
"Never go without it when I'm traveling with you," chuckled Ned. "You
always end up in some queer situation or other." This was true, as Tom
knew from past experience, so he did not comment on it.
A look behind the young men showed them that the auto was where they
had left it, the power shut off, the headlights glowing, and also some
lights turned on showing the cozy interior.
"I'll sure be glad to get back in it," murmured Tom.
"So will I," echoed his chum.
The deserted mansion the two had discovered half way up Dismal Mountain
was like many other tenantless houses in lonesome country districts,
only this was rather larger and better.
With the departing of the owner the place had been left to the mercy
of the elements and the whims of those who were more or less vandals
who took delight in needlessly breaking doors, windows and shutters.
Consequently there was no difficulty in getting into the place. The
front door gaped wide and, after flashing their lights into and around
a spacious entrance hall, Tom and Ned stepped inside.
"I guess this a hang-out for tramps now and then," remarked Tom, as the
two advanced down the hallway.
"Shouldn't wonder," agreed Ned. "They've got plenty of rooms at their
disposal, anyhow," he added as his light showed many apartments as
they continued on their way. Aside from broken boxes and barrels, with
here and there a litter of straw or leaves, there was no furniture in
the rooms.
Dismal and eerie to the extreme was the deserted house. Paper peeling
from the damp walls hung in strips like festoons of Spanish moss. In
places the plaster had fallen, leaving gaping holes that were like
sightless eyes staring at the intruders.
They went through the first floor, flashing their lights into nooks and
corners but discovering nothing. There were some signs of the place
having recently harbored such tenants as tramps. In one room a fire
appeared to have been burning not long since on an open hearth and some
empty tin cans scattered about seemed to give evidence that hoboes had
cooked a meal here some time.
"Shall we go upstairs?" asked Ned, when their inspection of the first
floor was finished.
"Might as well," decided Tom. "Then we'll know there isn't anything
here to annoy us after we get back to the House."
The front stairway was a large and imposing one, sweeping up to a
balcony where there was space enough for a fairly large room. From here
one could look down into the lower front hall. As Ned followed Tom to
this balcony he saw the young inventor turn and gaze intently at what
appeared to be a panel in the back wall of the landing. Tom's start was
so obvious that Ned asked:
"What's the matter?"
"I thought--I wasn't sure--but I thought I saw one of those oak panels
slide as I came up the stairs," answered Tom.
"You thought you saw a panel slide!" exclaimed Ned. "Say, this is like
a moving picture mystery."
"Maybe it was only the shadow of your flashlight," went on Tom.
He advanced to the rear wall and tapped on it. The lower part was made
up of what had once been beautifully carved, quartered oak panels. But
as far as the two adventurers could discover, all of them were in place
and none seemed movable.
"It must have been a shadow," said Ned.
"I guess so," agreed his chum.
The rooms upstairs, like those below, were bare and deserted, devoid of
furniture, but with the same festoons of drooping wall paper. In some
of the chambers there were piles of old bags and leaves in some corners
showing plainly that tramps had been sleeping there.
"It was probably these hoboes, who made this place a hang-out, that
gave rise to the stories about ghosts and bootleggers on Dismal
Mountain," commented Ned, and Tom agreed that this might be so.
The number and arrangement of the upper rooms confirmed the ideas of
the young men that this mansion had once been the home of persons
who lived in luxury and moved in high society. There were a number
of bedchambers, each with a private bath. But the latter rooms were
in worse ruin than any other part of the house, for the fixtures had
been torn out, probably by those who wanted the lead and brass piping
to sell to junkmen. Some of the porcelain bath tubs had been wantonly
cracked and broken.
It was when Tom, preceding Ned, walked out of one of the bedrooms into
the main hall that the young inventor gave another perceptible start
and uttered a low exclamation.
"What's the matter now?" asked Ned, with half a laugh. "See another
moving panel?"
"No, but, somehow, Ned, I feel as if we were being spied upon! Don't
you?"
"Spied upon! What do you mean?"
"Well, when I came out of that room," and Tom pointed back to it, "I
had a distinct feeling that eyes were following me. Didn't you ever
have such a feeling?"
"Yes; but not now. I think you're just over-worked and nervous. You did
most of the driving, and with that and the storm and getting bogged,
it's no wonder you're seeing things."
"Well, maybe that's it," agreed Tom, but his heart did not appear to
be in what he was saying. "I am tired. I'll be glad when we have had
something to eat and can turn in for a good night's sleep."
"Boy, you let loose an earful that time!" chuckled Ned.
He saw that Tom was flashing his light back into the room they had just
quitted and he followed his chum's example. But nothing was seen save
the same dismal ruin that confronted them on every side.
Going downstairs behind Tom, when Ned reached the landing where the
young inventor had said he thought he saw a panel move, he was suddenly
conscious of the same feeling that Tom had mentioned--that of unseen
eyes staring at him.
"But it's all bunk!" said Ned to himself. "It's just nerves. I'm not
going to speak of it. Tom has enough to worry about now."
However, he cast a quick look over his shoulder and even flashed his
torch on the oak paneling, a move which caused Tom to ask:
"What's the matter?"
"Oh, nothing," answered Ned, prevaricating just a little. But he felt
he had a right to, since, as he reasoned, Tom Swift had been under a
strain for several days getting the House on Wheels in shape for this
test trip. There was no sense in adding to his worries, especially as
it was such an intangible something that Ned had felt.
Yet he could not get over the sensation that he, too, as Tom had been,
was being watched by sinister eyes somewhere within that deserted
mansion. Eyes that were evil, that looked evil, and that hoped evil.
"Might have been bats," thought Ned. "Always have been bats in an old
house. That's what it was--bats. I'll be getting them in my belfry if I
don't get something to eat soon," he thought, with a noiseless chuckle.
Their footsteps echoed and re-echoed through the dark and eerie
mansion, but nothing happened, save now and then a distant and ghostly
hammering or clattering sound that plainly came from rattling windows,
banging doors, and swinging shutters.
"Well," remarked Tom, with a sigh of relief, "we've proved that there's
nobody around here to annoy us. Now for a good night's rest."
He stepped out of the front door, closely followed by Ned. The rain was
coming down hard and the wind had once more risen to the proportions
of half a gale. For a moment Tom and Ned stood on the big front porch.
Then Ned remarked:
"We must have got turned around and come out the back way."
"Why so?" asked Tom.
"Because we left the House right where we could see it from the front
steps, and it isn't in sight now. We must have got turned around and
come out at the back instead of the front."
"This is the front all right," said Tom in a queer voice. "It's where
we went in, but the House on Wheels is gone!"
"Gone!" cried Ned. "It can't be!"
"Look for yourself," asserted his chum. "You know where it was. In
plain sight with lights going, as we saw just before we went inside.
Now it's gone!"
There was no doubt of it. The House on Wheels had vanished!