CHAPTER VII

Terror in the Dark

Scarcely realizing how they had changed their fright into action, Arden,

Terry, and Sim found themselves running away as quickly as they could

through the fast-gathering darkness enshrouding the mysterious orchard.

The cool wind whipped back their hair, and their feet stumbled on the

uneven ground. Loose stones tripped them, and smashed apples made

slippery spots that once caused Sim almost to fall. But she quickly

recovered herself, ran on, and passed her chums.

As the three neared the dormitory building, the grounds about it were

deserted, as this was the before-supper lull.

"I hope no one saw that mad rush!" panted Arden.

"What are we going to do?" asked Terry as they slowed to a walk.

"Say nothing--for a while, at least," advised Arden.

"Right!" agreed Sim.

To this course of action, or, rather, lack of action, each agreed with

unspoken loyalty. They must keep the secret of the orchard to themselves.

It was their secret. None of the other girls, for the time, must know

anything about the mystery tangled in those gnarled trees and in the

smoky ivy vines that hung from some branches like tangled snakes. Even

the tall and almost impenetrable hedge that, in one corner, formed a

terrifying tunnel before it opened into the wide aisles of trees took on

a sinister shape and seemed to add to the mystery as the girls thought of

it while standing in the gleam of lights from the dormitory building.

They were safe now. They need run no longer. They could stop and let

their panting breaths ease. They must go inside. Oh, to be able to sit

down and calmly consider what had happened.

But the five flights of stairs between them and their room! How could

they be climbed? The same thought was in the minds of each one. To get

safely inside their room and throw themselves down upon the beds until

hearts beat a little less poundingly.

It was finally accomplished, somehow. Silently they reclined in their

favorite relaxed positions. No sound, except a clock-like puffing,

disturbed the stillness. The room was almost dark, only a little gleam

filtering in from the hall through a transom. No one made a move to turn

on a light. Just to rest, for the moment, was enough.

Gradually they grew calmer. Arden sat up.

"What an adventure!" she exclaimed. "But do you know what we did?"

"What?" murmured Terry.

"We left the precious apples."

"For all I care they can stay there!" Sim had lost all interest. "I'll

never forget how that poor young fellow looked! I only wish that old man

hadn't chased us away. Perhaps we could have found out what Tom meant by

that black thing he talked about."

"I'd never have the courage to try!" murmured Terry.

"Do you know, girls," burst out Arden, "I think we've stumbled on

something important! You remember what Henry, our dear old chaplain, was

muttering about the day we passed him. Something about coming out of the

orchard and some sort of a promise. And the old taxi-man, too, warned us,

in a way. Certainly that orchard holds a real mystery in its dark

leafiness." Arden smiled a little smugly. A sort of cat and canary smile,

as Sim remarked when she got up off the bed to switch on a light.

She and Terry both were very thoughtful after what Arden had said.

Perhaps Arden was right. There was certainly something more than merely

queer about the orchard, it was getting weird and uncanny.

"Do you think those sophs could have known?" asked Terry.

"I don't," was Sim's opinion. "They'd never have sent us there if they

had known what was going to happen."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," spoke Arden. "Those sophs----"

"Hark!" from Sim.

Footsteps in the corridor outside.

A knock on the door.

A little scream from Terry, a quickly hushed scream, however.

The door was opened suddenly. It was Toots Everett and her two familiars.

"Where are the apples, freshies?" Toots demanded.

"We haven't got them," Terry stated simply. "We--ah--we--dropped them."

"Oh, you did! And you look at us and calmly tell us you haven't the

apples we sent you to get! Well, you'd better get them tonight. It would

be just too bad if the dean had to campus you in your first week here."

Toots paused ominously and resumed. "For going over to the post office

without permission." It was a theatrical finish.

"Get those apples for us tonight!" commanded Jessica. "Slip out the back

door about eight o'clock and you'll manage it all right. None of the

teachers will notice you then. Of course, you'll have sense enough to

take flashlights."

"We haven't any yet," said Sim lamely. "We haven't been to town, you

know." She and her two chums were wondering how the sophomore knew about

the post office visit. Had the chaplain told them?

"No flashlights!" mocked Pip. "The poor dears! Then they'll have to go in

the dark."

"Oh, no!" Terry cried out with a dramatic restraining gesture.

"Little freshie 'fraid-cats!" sneered Toots.

"Well," remarked Jessica, "purely out of the goodness of my heart, and

not because I like you, I'll let you take my large flashlight. But don't

forget! We expect those apples before 'lights-out' tonight!"

With mocking smiles, the sophs withdrew to their room below.

"Oh, dear!" wailed Sim. "More trouble! I don't want to go back to that

orchard when it's so dark!"

"I do and I don't," said Arden. "I want to find out something, but I'm a

little scared."

"If we all keep together and have a light, it shouldn't take us long. I

think I can find the tree we were near when--when----" Terry didn't quite

know how to finish.

Clang-clang! Clang! Clang-clang! It was the bell calling the students to

supper: always a light meal. The "big feed," as the girls called it, came

in the middle of the day.

Wearily the three arose from the beds whereon they had again cast

themselves after the visits of the sophomores, straightened themselves

with pulls and twists, and joined their classmates in the dining hall.

Their coming hazing task was uppermost in their minds, consequently they

did not feel like talking much.

Terry was elected to get the light from Jessica while her chums waited in

no little trepidation in the main corridor below, near a rear door out of

which they had been told they might slip without being observed by those

in authority.

"Did you get it?" whispered Sim, as Terry came lightly down the stairs.

"Sure! Did you think I wouldn't?"

"I was hoping you might not, and then we'd have a good excuse for not

going," Sim answered.

"Well, let's get started," suggested Arden.

They went out. The night was clear and beginning to get chilly. Sim

knotted her bright scarf more tightly about her throat. Terry turned up

the collar of her jacket, and Arden snuggled more closely into her long

sweater.

At first, after walking away from the rim of light that filtered from the

dormitory building, they could see nothing. But gradually their eyes

became accustomed to the darkness and, without switching on the

flashlight, they headed for Bordmust Hall.

For a few of their hesitant steps no one spoke. Then Terry turned on the

flashlight, focusing its beams upon the ground while they walked slowly

along in triangular formation, Sim and Arden forming the base as Terry

with the light was the apex.

Nothing disturbed them. All was quiet and still and so absolutely silent

that Terry remarked it was the "perfect state of nothingness."

The dark orchard seemed miles away. But as they paused for Arden to tie

her shoe, a faint rustling could be heard. Tired old apple trees were

once more settling down for the long winter sleep after a summer of fruit

producing.

All at once they were there! Right in the orchard. The stones on the

ground seemed to hold back their unwilling feet. They stopped and

listened. Terry switched on the light but its penetrating beam seemed

only to make the surrounding darkness blacker.

"Come on, girls! We're just at the first row of trees. The one we are

looking for is farther along. I remember a funny-shaped one, like a

rearing crocodile, next to it. But wait, Terry! I heard something

moving!" Arden froze into motionless silence to listen.

"Don't let your imagination run away with you," Terry gently mocked.

"We're just wasting time by listening, and I've got a lot of French to

do. Let's get going!"

Sim and Terry walked on. Terry, having seen that the way, for some little

distance ahead, was clear, turned off the flashlight. They did not want

to attract any possible attention. Arden was following a little more

slowly. They were beneath some gnarled trees now.

"Flash a gleam, Terry," begged Sim. In the glow they looked at the

leaf-strewn ground. "There's not a single apple here! I don't see how we

found any this afternoon!" said Sim gloomily.

"Cheer up, old gal! I think this is the tree. That looks like a pretty

good specimen." Terry was examining an apple in the light of Terry's

torch. "Pick them up quickly. If they turn out not to be good, we'll

blame it on the darkness. Hold the bag, Arden. It was very smart of you

to bring it."

Quickly the two dropped apples into the paper bag held open by Arden.

They were making what they thought was a good collection when Arden

suddenly stopped them as she murmured:

"Listen! Did you hear that? Sounded like someone sneezing!"

They stood motionless and quiet in the frightening darkness.

"I heard--something," Sim whispered.

"Well, whatever it was, it couldn't have been very close," declared

Terry, taking charge of the situation. "If we hurry we can be out of here

in another minute."

With renewed energy they fell to their task once more. Arden discovered

Sim's pile of apples from the afternoon gathering and was putting them

into the bag; they could not return to those sophs without filling their

orders.

Suddenly the night's silence was broken by a loud noise: a sound between

a sneeze and a snort, as the girls afterward described it.

Then something like a black shadow tore past the frightened trio, moving

with great speed and thudding feet, if that tearing scramble could have

been made by feet. In her excitement Terry switched off the light. The

darkness was at once made more dark.

"Oh! Help! Help! It's--got me!" screamed Arden, in a voice filled with

terror.

Some strange force seemed to fling her aside, her skirt being caught and

twisted around her legs, twirling her like a human top. She tried to

retain her balance but toppled over and fell heavily in a pile of leaves

and apples, too frightened to know where she was.

"Arden!" cried Sim. "What happened? Where are you?"

"Are you hurt?" demanded Terry trying in vain to get her fingers on the

elusive light switch. "Oh, Arden! Whatever--was it?"

"It--it just missed me!" panted Arden, struggling to her feet. "But

whatever it was, it certainly tried to get me! Oh, for mercy's sake, take

those apples and let's get out of here!"

"Show a light, Terry!" begged Sim. "Where are the apples?"

"I--I dropped the bag when that terrible thing rushed past me and was

nearly entangled in my skirt," Arden confessed. "Oh, this is awful!"

"Those sophs!" muttered Sim, "and these unlucky apples!"

"Beasts!" snapped Terry, who at last had the torch glowing again.

Then, never daring to look behind them, the three frightened freshmen,

with Sim carrying the bag of apples, Terry focusing the torch on the

uncertain way, and Arden almost in hysterical tears, ran out of the

perilous orchard. This surely had been a terrifying encounter.

"But remember again," breathed Sim when she felt strong enough to do so,

"the apples are for--the sophs, but the--mystery--is ours!" Good little

Sim!

The Orchard Secret Arden Blake Mystery Series #1 · 第 7 / 28 章