_Rob's Friend the Reporter_
Silvia's vague prophecy was fulfilled. When the event of the day, the
arrival of the stage, occurred, a solitary passenger alighted, a slim,
alert, city-cut young woman.
She looked us all over--not boldly, but with a business-like
directness as if she were taking inventory of stock, or acting as
judge at a competition. When her blue eyes lighted on Rob, they
darkened with pleasure.
"Oh, Mr. Rossiter!" she exclaimed, "this is better than I hoped for."
They shook hands with the air of being old acquaintances, and he
introduced her to us as "Miss Frayne, from my home town."
She went into the office, registered, and sent her bag to her room.
Then she asked Rob if she might have a talk with him.
They walked away together down to the shore and she was talking to him
quite excitedly. Rob suddenly stopped, threw back his head and laughed
in the way that it is good to hear a man laugh.
"Miss Frayne must be a wit," observed Beth dryly.
I looked at her keenly. Something in her eyes as she gazed after the
retreating couple told me that Silvia's surmise was right, and that
Miss Frayne might be just the little punch needed to send Beth over
the danger point.
"I rather incline to the belief that Ptolemy told the truth in the
first place," she continued, and then looked disappointed because I
did not contradict her.
I decided not to reveal, for the present anyway, what I knew of Miss
Frayne, of whom I had often heard Rob speak.
"She can't be going to stay long," said Silvia hopefully. "She didn't
bring a trunk."
"She doesn't need one," replied Beth. "She is probably one of those
mannish girls who believe in a skirt and a few waists for a
wardrobe."
When Rob and the newcomer returned, he seemed to be monopolizing the
conversation in a very emphatic and earnest manner. As they came up
the steps to the veranda, we heard her say:
"Very well, Mr. Rossiter, I will do just as you say. I have perfect
confidence in your judgment."
They passed on into the hotel and Beth jumped up and went down toward
the lake.
"Did you ever hear Rob speak of this Miss Frayne?" asked Silvia.
"Often. She is engaged to his cousin, and is a reporter on a big
newspaper."
"Why didn't you say so? Oh, Lucien," she continued before I could
speak, "were you really shrewd enough to see which way the wind was
blowing?"
"Sure. After you set my sails for me last night."
Just then Rob came out of the hotel.
"Say, Lucien, I want to see you a minute. Come on down the road."
"We've got some work ahead," he said when we were out of Silvia's
hearing.
"What's up?" I asked.
"Miss Frayne is up--and doing. What do you suppose her paper sent her
here for?"
"For a rest, or to write up the mosquitoes of H. H."
"H. H. is all right, only it happens they stand for Haunted House."
"Not really?"
"Yes, really. The rumors of the house and the ghost, greatly
elaborated, of course, reached the Sunday editor of the paper Miss
Frayne is on, and he sent her up here to revive the story of the
murder, translate the ghost, and get snapshots of the house. She was
quite keen to have me take her there at once, so she could commence
her article, but I headed her off, so she wouldn't discover the summer
boarders at the hotel annex. I assured her that daytime was not the
time to gather material and the only way she could get a proper focus
on the ghost and acquire the thrills necessary for an inspiration was
to see the place first by night."
"If she would view Fair Melrose aright," I quoted, "she must visit it
in the pale moonlight, but you were very clever to delay her visit
long enough for us to get over there and warn the enemy. If she had
gone down there and caught the Polydores unawares, she would have come
back here and revealed our secret, and there would be the end of
Silvia's vacation."
"To tell the truth, Lucien, I wasn't thinking so much of that as I was
of Miss Frayne's interests. You see she has come a long ways for a
story and if it collapsed from her ghostly expectations to a showdown
of four healthy boys, the blow might mean a good deal to her in a
business way. I think we had better let Ptolemy plant a ghost just
once more for her. You know you made him take a reef in the flapping
of ghostly garments. Can't we resurrect the specter and restore the
wails just for tonight, and bring her over here at the witching
hour?"
"Sure we will," I agreed heartily. "She shall have her ghost and all
the trappings. It will give the Polydores the time of their lives."
"Let's go over there now and put Ptolemy next so he can get busy on
his spirits." We went down to the shore and pulled off. Midway across
the lake, Rob suddenly rested on his oars and asked:
"Where did Beth go?"
"Back to first principles," I replied. "She thinks, judging from your
excited, earnest manner in addressing Miss Frayne and your rushing
frantically away for a walk with her before she had removed the travel
dust, that Ptolemy was quite correct, after all, in declaring you to
be a 'ladies' man.'"
"Didn't you explain to her who Miss Frayne was?" he asked.
"No," I replied. "I am on my vacation and I am not doing any
explaining, professionally or otherwise."
He swung the boat around.
"Starboard!" I cried. "Don't you know a trump card when you see it?"
Again he rested on his oars and stared at me.
"What do you mean, Lucien? If you have a grain of hope for me, please
let me in."
I repeated Silvia's theories.
"I am not going to win her that way," he said slowly, "not by playing
a part."
"Well," I declared, "if you go back to the hotel now, you can't
explain Miss Frayne to Beth, because she went for a walk with old
Professor Treadtop."
He turned the boat again.
"Silvia won't come to the Haunted House, will she?" he asked.
"No, indeed. Nothing would induce her to."
"Then you bring Miss Frayne here tonight and I'll bring Beth. And I'll
be sure that there are no double boats lying around loose. I'll have
two at the dock, see?"
"I see your system," I replied, "but I am not sure how I can explain
Miss Frayne to Silvia. Silvia is not in the least narrow-minded, but
still to leave the hotel at midnight with a perfectly strange young
woman--"
"You can tell her I want a clear field for Beth. She will see it is in
a good cause."
The Polydores greeted us rapturously and roughly. When I had restored
order, and they were once more right side up, I addressed the chief of
the bandits.
"Ptolemy," I began, "a young lady, who is a reporter for a big
newspaper, has come from many miles away to write up the haunted house
and the ghost, and they will be pictured out in the Sunday edition."
Ptolemy's eyes glistened, and "Them Three" were instantly "at
attention."
"Oh, say, stepdaddy," begged the young chief, "let me play ghost right
for her, just once, will you?"
"You may for tonight," I said, "but you will have to be very careful
and not overdo the matter, for she isn't the kind that is easily
fooled. She's had to keep her eyes and wits sharpened, else she
wouldn't be on a newspaper, so I want you to be very careful and not
bungle. Make a neat job of it."
"I'll do it up brown, you bet!" he cried gleefully.
"Naw, do it up white," drawled Pythagoras.
"Show me your ghost stuff by daylight," I demanded, "and let me see
how you are going to rig him up."
He brought forth a head and shoulders and arms that were ghastly even
in sunlight, and proceeded to explain them.
"I got this skull out of father's study, and the arms came off a
skeleton mother had in her antiquities. I dressed them up in a pillow
case and the white cotton gloves are Huldah's. I can get some
phosphorus in the woods and put it in the eyes. And Demetrius bought
two electric flashlights yesterday, and Pythagoras can snap them once
in a while from the lower windows."
"You are some little property man," said Rob in admiration. "But tell
me who produces those heart-rending shrieks?"
"That was Pythagoras who did the high ones. And Em came in with low
groans. Show 'em, boys."
Pythagoras uttered high-trebled, thin-toned whines and ever and anon
Emerald added a _basso profundo_ accompaniment, making a combination
that was most trying to the ears at close range.
"I don't know," said Rob, "as I want Beth subjected to such a
realistic performance. We will loiter in the distance."
"Your rehearsal," I assured Ptolemy, "is very good, but you must
remember that Miss Frayne is used to encountering things far more
terrible than ghosts. She may insist on coming right in here to
investigate. Of course, if she does, I can't refuse or she'll think I
am afraid, or else that I put up a fake ghost here, myself."
"We'll lock the door with a chair," suggested Emerald.
"She'll be quite capable of breaking into a little house like this,
but I'll keep her back until you have time to haul in your ghost and
make a quick and quiet getaway by a back window. Then another thing,
she'll be over here tomorrow morning to take some pictures of the
house, so by sunrise I want you all to take up your abode in the tent
you have in the woods and stay there until I come and tell you the
coast is clear."
"We're dead on," assured Ptolemy. "I'm glad there's going to be
something doing. We're getting tired of being here alone. I had to tie
Demetrius up this morning. He was bound to go over to the hotel and
see mudder."
"Don't one of you dare to make such an attempt," I said peremptorily.
"You keep right on here for a few days. Some of us, either Rob, or
Beth and I will drop over every day. If you play your ghost just as I
tell you and keep out of sight, I'll bring you over some ice cream
tomorrow."
"Bring me a bigger bat."
"Bring me a mitt."
"Bring me a boat," came in chorus from Ptolemy, Emerald, and
Demetrius.
"What'll you give me to stay here?" asked Pythagoras, who was a born
bargain-driver.
"I'll give you a licking if you don't stay," was the only offer he
gleaned from me.
"Be good boys," adjured the softhearted Rob, "and I'll bring you
everything I can find at the hotel."
It was long past the luncheon hour when we returned. We found Miss
Frayne wondering at Rob's sudden disappearance and Beth was
accordingly mystified.
I planted myself directly in front of Miss Frayne.
"May I take you to the haunted house tonight at the yawning
churchyard hour?" I asked. "I am most eminently fitted to be your
guide, for I was the first one of this assembly to see the ghost _in
toto_."
"He saw it over a stone fence," remarked Rob.
"Indeed you may, thank you very much," she said enthusiastically.
Silvia's face was a study.
"And will you come with me, Beth?" asked Rob. "Of course, the ghost is
an old story to us, but we really should hover in Lucien's wake out of
regard to the conventions."
"Is Miss Frayne interested in ghosts?" asked Beth.
Miss Frayne turned and answered the question.
"Not personally," she admitted frankly, "but the newspaper I am on is,
and they sent me up here to get a story."
"Oh, you are a reporter?"
"Yes; on the _Times_."
"She won't be one long, though," asserted Rob cheerfully, "because she
is going to marry my cousin in the fall."
Beth's expression remained neutral at the announcement, but I noticed
throughout the afternoon that she was extremely affable toward Miss
Frayne, and that she had the whiphand again with Rob, and meanwhile he
seemed to be gathering a grim determination to do or die.
"Lucien, how did you come to ask Miss Frayne to go to that awful place
tonight?" asked Silvia when we had gone to our room for a siesta,
which seemed impossible by reason of the bellowing of Diogenes, who
balked at being required to lie down.
"Rob asked me to," I informed her, when I had cowed Diogenes, "so he
could have a free field for Beth. I believe he planned this
expedition so he could storm the citadel."
She reflected.
"Well, maybe he is wise. Girls like Beth have to be taken by storm
sometimes. I shouldn't wonder if Rob could be a bit of a bully, too,
but--"
She ended her speculations in a shriek.
"Oh, Lucien! Diogenes has jumped out the window."
We rushed down stairs, Silvia informing the guests in transit of the
awful catastrophe.
Silvia paused at the door opening on to the veranda.
"I can't see him," she said faintly, closing her eyes. "You'll have to
tend to it alone, Lucien."
Beth was already at the telephone, which connected with the country
doctor's. Rob joined me. We located our window, and began hunting
underneath for the pieces.
"Where in the world do you suppose he landed?" asked Rob.
Just then the missing one came around the house clasping a bologna
sausage in his fist.
"Ye Gods and little Polydores!" exclaimed Rob.
I caught Diogenes by the arm and rushed him in to Silvia.
I found her in company with an old colored mammy, who was laundress
for the hotel.
"Sho'," she was saying, "I done gwine by de windah with ma baby cab
full o' cloes, an' dis yer white chile done come tumblin' down an'
fall right in ma cab. Now, what do you think o' dat? I reckon I was
nevah so done clean skeert afoah in ma life. An' ef de chile didn't
grab one of ma bolognas and done git out de cab an' run around de
house."
"Oh," cried Silvia, "poor little baby! Come to mudder. Lucien, where
are you going with him?"
I had picked up the acrobatic Polydore and was going up the stairs two
at a time. I gained our room, locked the door and proceeded to give
the "poor little baby" all that was coming to him. Now and then above
his howls, I heard Silvia's plaintive protests outside the door, but I
finished my job completely and satisfactorily, and laid the penitent
Polydore in his little bed. Then I went out into the hall, feeling
better than I had in months.
Silvia essayed to pass me, but I took her arm and led her to a recess
in the hall.
"I am convinced," I told her, "that we have Diogenes as a permanent
pensioner on our hands, so it was up to me to show him where to get
off. You can't go to him for a quarter of an hour."
We went down stairs and I was sure I read suppressed regret in the
faces of most of the guests at learning of the soft place in which
Diogenes' lot had been cast. Silvia tearfully told Rob and Beth of my
cruelty.
[Illustration: Now and then above his howls, I heard Silvia's plaintive
protests outside the door]
"Do him good!" approved Rob heartily.
"How mean men are!" declared Beth indignantly. "I am going up and
comfort the poor little thing."
I held up the key to the room with a grin, and she had to content
herself by making unkind remarks about me.
At the expiration of the allotted time, I handed Silvia the key. She
took it from me without a word or a look. It was quite evident I was
in wrong.
In half an hour my wife came down, carrying Diogenes, who, dressed in
fresh white clothes, was a good picture of an angel child. She passed
me and went to a remote corner of the veranda and sat down. When he
spied me, he leaped from her arms and ran to me.
"Ocean," he said propitiatingly, "me love oo."
I took him up. His arms clasped about my neck, and over his curly
head, I winked at Silvia and Beth.
Rob roared.