A GRIM WARNING
Bab Winters’ fingers trembled so that she could not fit the letter back
into its envelope. Quietly, Gordon took them both from her.
“Steady, Bab!” he said, his eyes exultant. “I believe we’re on the
track of something real at last!”
Bab glanced at the lucky ring and shook her head.
“The mystery seems to be darker and deeper than ever. Gordon, I don’t
understand a thing!”
“Except that there really is a fortune hidden somewhere about this old
house!” cried Gerry. “Oh, Bab, isn’t that something?”
Of course it was, and for some time the young folks entertained no
doubt but what they would find Bab’s mysterious inheritance at once.
But in this they were doomed to disappointment.
They studied the aperture in the wall that had opened, incredibly
enough, to the pull of the curtain cord. They decided that there must
be a fine wire running through the cord, over the molding, and down
through the wall of the house, connecting, in some way, with a spring
that, when touched, released the door to the small opening. That the
door could also be closed by a pull of the cord they proved at once and
to their complete satisfaction. When the door was closed no sign of any
opening whatsoever could be observed in the wall!
“Funny no one thought of pulling that curtain cord,” observed Charlie.
“I did, when we were looking before,” announced Gerry. The others
turned to stare at her reproachfully. “I never thought to look behind
the picture, though.”
“She never thinks,” remarked Charlie. “Now don’t glare at me, young
woman. It won’t do you a bit of good. Come and help me look for another
tassel or button, or something that will release another secret door.
If we find that I’ve a notion we’ll find this old miser’s hidden money,
too.”
Though they searched all the remainder of the afternoon, buoyed up by
excitement and fresh hope, they found no further clew to the hiding
place of the eccentric old gentleman’s treasure.
When Rosa Lee finally called them to dinner, they went reluctantly,
unwilling to give up the hunt long enough to eat.
Gordon and Bab lingered behind the rest.
“Don,” said the girl, “do you notice anything odd about this picture?”
“A great many things,” laughed Gordon. “What, in particular, do you
mean?”
“Well, about the hanging, for instance. You notice it stands out some
distance from the wall because it is hung on the end of this rod.”
Gordon was watching her intently.
“Yes, I noticed that! What are you getting at, Bab?”
“Do you remember the time we heard the pattering feet and it sounded
as if something jumped toward this picture? Then you went to look for
whatever it was and--it had disappeared.”
“You mean,” said the boy, “that whatever we thought we heard might have
passed through that hole in the wall?”
Bab nodded, eyes shining.
“But, Bab!” the boy was impressed but unconvinced, “whatever it was
went through the hole must have closed the door after it! Because when
we went to look----”
“We found a little crack that closed when you pressed against it,”
cried Bab triumphantly. “And, Gordon, come over here. I want to show
you something.”
She showed him then on the inside of the little round door what none of
the rest of them in their excitement had perceived. There was a tiny
knob, by which that opening might have been closed from the farther
side of the wall!
“But, Bab, you’ve got me dizzy! No human being could go through that
hole, and what animal would have the sense to close the door after him!
It’s---- Why, it’s impossible!”
“Of course it is!” agreed Bab. “But there’s one thing certain, Don.
We’ve got to find out what’s on the other side of that wall!”
While they ate, night closed down upon the old house in the glen and
its mysteries, and with night came a blustering storm that played in
wind-swept gusts upon the windows and whistled about the house. The
boys and girls moved closer together for companionship and the eyes of
Rosa Lee moved often toward the black squares of the windows, which
alone separated them from the dismal woods which covered the slopes of
the glen. Mrs. Fenwick went off upstairs to read.
The young folks were jumpy. The excitement of the afternoon, while it
had roused their hopes, had taken toll of their nerves.
They knew now who the Hindu was, that strange dark man with the
turbaned head who lived in the woods and seemed able to disappear
at a moment’s notice. Uncle Jeremiah’s warning had done little to
reassure them in regard to this discharged servant. They remembered
the sheriff’s warning too--and shuddered. What did the Hindu want and
what was he doing with that poor child, whose sorry plight had already
enlisted the sympathies of the boys and girls?
Mysteries, nothing but mysteries, and not an answer to one of them!
Bab turned and turned the lucky ring on her finger while Gordon watched
her, thinking how pretty she looked in her reverie. She glanced up and
found his eyes on hers.
“Gordon,” she said softly, “who took my lucky ring?”
Before the boy could answer, a sharp cry from Gerry made them glance in
her direction. The girl was on her feet, pointing with shaking finger
toward the door. This opened slowly, inch by inch, propelled by some
unseen agency.
Who--or what--was behind that door?