"This is getting to be the limit of patience!" exclaimed Jack a bit
wrathfully, as he looked at the disordered rooms. "Why can't we do
something?"
"We could, if we knew what to do," said Walter. "But you can't fight
nothing with something."
"It is very intangible," said Cora. "Oh, all my pretty things scattered
about!"
"Look and see if anything is taken," suggested Paul. "If we can find out
what is missing--I mean the character of the things--we can get a better
line on who might have taken them. So far, the flashlight indicates
regular burglars."
For a time the girls were so put out, and so nervous over what had
happened, that they could not ascertain what, if anything, was missing.
Then Cora began to reckon up her belongings, and found that a number of
articles had been taken. Hazel found the same misfortune had visited
her.
"There are lots of my things gone," said Cora.
"What?" asked Walter, producing pencil and paper. "Let's get at this
systematically."
"Oh, well, there are lots of things you--you wouldn't understand about,"
said Cora, blushing slightly.
"That's true enough," Walter admitted with a smile. "You are not on the
witness stand, so you needn't mention face powder, nose rings----"
"Well, I like that!" cried Cora. "As if we used face powder!"
"Just for that he will have to eat at the second table," pronounced
Hazel.
"Come on!" challenged Jack, laughing. "Get down to business. What sort
of things are missing, Cora?"
"Girls' things, of course," said his sister. "We didn't have much else
up here."
And that, it developed, was what was missing. Trinkets, some toilet
articles, including a silver-mounted set belonging to Cora which Jack
had given her the previous Christmas, were gone. Hazel lost a
silver-backed mirror and a box full of bright ribbons.
"Well, this beats me!" said Walter with a puzzled air, as he looked at
the list he had made. "They took some things they may possibly dispose
of at a pawnshop, but why grown men burglars should want hair ribbons,
or neck ribbons, or whatever ribbons they are, gets me."
"What makes you think they were men?" asked Belle.
"Who else would it be?"
"Well, we first had a theory that the upsetting might have been done by
boys," said Cora.
"Yes, that theory would fit, under certain circumstances," agreed
Walter. "So would the taking of the flashlight. Almost any boy would
have been glad to get that. But what boy would take a lot of pretty
ribbons, even though he were enough of a criminal to know that he might
be able to dispose of the silver-mounted toilet articles? It doesn't
jibe."
In the main, they were forced to agree with Walter.
"Well, the fact remains that we have had another visit from the
unknowns," concluded Walter, "and what are we going to do about it?"
For a moment no one knew what to say. And then, as brains were busy with
the mystery, several schemes were offered.
"Put some animal traps about and catch the intruders," said Jack.
"One of us stay and watch, while the others go away," was Paul's
contribution.
"Sprinkle talcum powder on the floor, and then we can track them by the
marks," offered Hazel.
"Not such a bad idea," declared Jack, as the others laughed. "It has
been known to work."
"Call in the police," came from Bess.
"Pooh!" scoffed Cora. "If they couldn't get back my automobile they
can't find mysterious thieves who enter through locked doors or windows,
and vanish into thin air with their ill-gotten gains."
"Let--let's go home!" faltered Belle.
"Nonsense!" cried Cora. "We'll stick it out. It is just getting
interesting."
"That's all right," announced Belle, "but suppose--suppose they come in
the night, when we're asleep, and take one of us?"
"Let them begin on Bess," suggested Jack, with a laugh. "No offense, of
course, fair one," and he bowed, "but you know you could give a good
account of yourself if some one did try to walk off with you."
"Don't dare suggest such a thing!" cried the plump twin. "I'd never go
to sleep if I thought they'd come at night."
"They do seem to confine their visits to daytime, and to the periods
when we are away," said Cora.
"Which makes it look, more than ever, as if they watched the bungalow
and knew just when to take advantage of our absence," commented Paul.
"Oh, don't say that!" begged Belle. "Just think--they--they may be
watching now!"
"Well, if they are let's go and see if we can rout them out," suggested
Jack. "There aren't many places of concealment about the bungalow."
While the other girls helped Cora and Hazel put to rights the upset
rooms, the boys made a thorough search outside. There did not seem to be
any place where the mysterious persons might conceal themselves in order
to spy on the bungalow. There were trees all about, but the underbrush
had been cut away, and there was small chance for concealment. The boys
also started to make an inspection about their own bungalow, but this
was cut short by a shower that came up.
"Well, so far, we are just about where we started," said Jack, as he and
his two chums were eating supper with the girls that night. "We haven't
found out anything."
"But we will!" declared Cora. "I'm not going to be beaten this way.
We'll organize a campaign."
They talked to this end, making a tentative plan that the next time they
went off on a trip, some member of the party would be left behind in
concealment in the bungalow, to see, if possible, who the visitor or
visitors were.
"And if that doesn't work we'll try something else," said Walter.
It was evident, though, that after the first few trials the new plan was
not going to work. Though the boys took turns in remaining in
concealment while the others went away, not a sound or sign of
disturbance was noted. No furniture was misplaced, and nothing was
taken.
"We've got to have a new scheme," said Cora. "Let's talk to Mr. and Mrs.
Floyd about it. Maybe they can suggest something."
But the caretaker and his wife had nothing to offer. They were as much
worried and disturbed by the queer happenings as were the girls and
boys. And though they were generous and kindly souls, they were not
quick thinkers, and had little imagination.
"It's just spirits," said Mrs. Floyd. "Spirits come and go."
"There aren't any such things," declared Cora.
"Maybe it's lightning," suggested Mr. Floyd. "We have pretty heavy
thunderstorms up here."
"Lightning can't move furniture, nor carry off looking glasses and hair
ribbons," Cora went on.
"Well, once lightning struck Jim Dobson's cabin," the caretaker said,
"and knocked all his pots and pans off the stove, and burned a hole
right through his clock."
"That's within the bounds of possibility," admitted Jack.
"It's boys!" decided Walter. "You'll find that some youngsters are up to
these tricks, and they're cute enough to cover up their tracks."
"That's it," said Paul. "They're too cute. They don't leave any tracks.
How they get in and out again, without leaving a clew or a mark is more
than I can see." For an examination of the place after the losses
suffered by Cora and Hazel had disclosed no apparent means of egress or
ingress.
One evening when the girls had gone over to the boys' bungalow to sit
and talk, Cora, who had gone to the end of the porch, whence a view
could be had of the other building, uttered an exclamation.
"There's a light in our bungalow!" she called. "Did we leave one
burning?"
"No," answered Belle. "I put it out, as I was afraid of fire."
"Well, one's there now. See how it dances about!"
Indeed, a light could be observed, dancing up and down, flashing first
from one window and then from another.
"It's Mr. or Mrs. Floyd," said Jack.
"They've gone to the village," Paul said. "I saw them go."
"It's the mysterious visitors!" cried Walter. "They're using Cora's
flashlight! Come on, boys, this time we have them!"
He ran toward the bungalow, followed by the others.