A RETURNED CALL
Fifteen minutes later as the delivery sleigh turned into the drive of the
unpretentious Angel home, Betty Byrd, who sat near the window, declared:
“Here come the boys.” Then she uttered an exclamation of surprise.
“What is it, Betty?” the others asked, springing up and crowding about
her.
“Girls!” Doris exclaimed tragically. “Something terrible is just about to
happen. Alfred Morrison and his sister, Geraldine, are in the sleigh.
What shall we do? Of course she will recognize us and more than likely
she will be mad as a hornet, and we can’t much blame her if she is.”
The girls were filled with consternation, but before they could form a
plan, the front door opened and Bob’s cheery voice called: “Ho, Sis,
where are you?” So of course Bertha had to go into the hall and he
introduced her to the haughty young damsel. Luckily, Geraldine could not
see very clearly, having just come in from the dazzling sunlight.
After laying aside her fur-lined coat, the unexpected guest was led into
the library, where six anxious maidens stood about the fireplace. Peggy
declared afterwards that she didn’t see how Bertha ever got through the
introductions so calmly. She was just sure that she would have called
someone Matilda Jane Turnip.
Of course, Geraldine greeted Doris with utmost warmth and sat beside her
as she exclaimed: “Oh, Miss Drexel, I had a letter from your cousin
Adelaine this morning, and she was so eager to have me meet you. We are
next-door neighbors and have been the best of friends for years. I wonder
why I never met you before.”
“Probably because my mother is an invalid and we have been in California
and Florida so much of the time. I am ever so glad to know a friend of
Adelaine’s. She is the dearest girl, isn’t she?”
The two were seated apart by themselves and Doris dreaded the moment when
their visitor should recognize them as the seven who had called upon her
in milkmaid garb the day before. Once she did look very steadily at
Peggy, and Doris, noticing this, hurriedly asked some question about her
city cousin, hoping to keep the guest’s thoughts in safe channels.
At last Alfred arose, saying: “Well, Sister, if we are to visit the post
office and then walk home before dark, we would better be going.”
“Wait just one moment,” Bertha urged. “Bob has gone out to hitch up our
two-seated sleigh. Oh, here he comes now.”
A comfortable, roomy sleigh appeared and Jack said: “Miss Geraldine, may
I accompany you? Alfred and Bob may have the driver’s seat?”
The girl smilingly consented and then bade each of the maidens a gracious
farewell. When the sleigh with its jingling bells and prancing horses was
out of sight, the girls sank down on their chairs and one and all uttered
some exclamation. Then Merry Lee said: “The question before the house is,
did she recognize us?”
“I don’t see how she could help recognizing Rose,” Peggy said, to tease.
“She looks very much as she did as Jerusy.”
That pretty maiden took the teasing good-naturedly, then tongues and
needles flew, until half an hour later when the boys returned. They were
laughing merrily when they entered the room and bent over the burning log
to warm their hands. The girls looked up from their sewing and Peggy
asked eagerly: “Tell us the worst! Did Geraldine recognize us?”
“Yes, she did,” Bob declared. “She told Jack that she knew Peggy at once.
She decided, however, that it had been a good lesson for her and she
wished Jack to thank you all for having taught her that people may live
in the country and not be backwoodsy or rubes.”
“Well, I’m glad she forgives us!” Bertha declared. Then, when the boys
had again departed, she added: “But now, to return to the subject we were
discussing when we were interrupted. Peggy, have you and Doris found a
mystery yet for the Seven Sleuths to unravel?”
“Nary a mystery,” Doris confessed, “but it isn’t Saturday yet. You
remember we were to have a week.”
“There might be some kind of a mystery connected with that old Welsley
house out on the lake road. If ever a place looked haunted, that one
surely does.”
“Righto, my dear little Betty, but ghosts and mysteries are two different
things. Some unhappy old man shot himself in that dismal farmhouse and
nobody ever wanted to live there after that; and so it has just fallen to
pieces. But everybody knew the old man and just why he was so sad and
discouraged, and so there isn’t any mystery to it at all, at all.”
“Where did the boys go?” Bertha looked up suspiciously. “Heavens, I hope
they aren’t anywhere around. They might overhear us talking about
mysteries and then our new name wouldn’t be secret any more.”
“They drove out of the yard; I saw them,” Betty, still near the window,
remarked.
“Jack had a book. Probably that one of Conan Doyle. Perhaps they’re going
to return it.”
Suddenly Bertha dropped her sewing and her eyes were bright “Say, girls,
we’ve wondered a million times where the boys hold their secret meetings,
but never once did we even suspect that it _might_ be in that dreadful
old Welsley place.”
“Bertha Angel, I believe you’re right. No one would ever interrupt them
_there_.” Peg shuddered.
“And what better meeting-place for a boys’ detective club than an old
ruin haunted by a ghost that had committed suicide!” Doris commented.
“Well,” Merry sighed, “we’re not likely to find out, since our dear
parents will not permit us to prowl around at night unless the boys are
along to protect us.”
Then Peggy had an idea. “Girls,” she exclaimed, “we ought to have some
kind of a party for Geraldine and Alfred. Let’s have a moonlight skating
party and a sleigh ride combined, and when we’re out that way, let’s
suggest visiting the old ruin. If the boys refuse, we will know that they
don’t want us to see what they have in there. If they agree to the plan,
then we will know that is _not_ where they hold their secret meetings.”
“Bright idea!”
“That will be a jolly lark!”
“Hope the haughty Geraldine knows how to skate.”
“Ssh! Here come the boys to take us home. We mustn’t let them suspect our
deep-laid plans. We’re some sleuths all right, I’ll say.”
When the two boys entered the room they found the girls, except the
hostess, warmly wrapped and ready to be taken to their homes.
“Isn’t the sunset going to be wonderful this evening?” Merry, in the open
door, called over her shoulder. Then to the boys: “When is our next full
moon? We girls thought we’d have our annual skating and sleigh ride party
then, and invite the newcomers.”
“Great!” Jack cried. “It ought to be soon. What say, Bob?”
“Sure thing!” that ruddy-cheeked lad agreed. Then to the girl he was
assisting into the sleigh, he said in a low voice: “Rosie, may I have the
first skate and the last, and all in between?”
“No whispering allowed,” Merry warned as they climbed in, the girls
sitting two and three deep.
The blizzard had disappeared as completely as though it never had been,
but the high snowbanks that lined the road and reached to the window
sills of the houses remained to testify that it had been “some storm,” as
Bob said.
“Well, we sure have it to thank for a week of good times instead of
school,” Merry declared. “I hope Miss Preen and Professor Lowsley enjoyed
being snowed in together.”
Much laughter greeted this remark, but Gertrude said rebukingly: “I think
it’s shabby of us to make fun of those two. Of course they _are_ sort of
queer looking outside, but in their hearts and souls they may be just
like the rest of us.”
“Trudie, dear, it wouldn’t take a detective to know that _you_ are a
minister’s daughter,” Merry remarked, then, as the sleigh was stopping in
front of her home, she added: “Now, everybody decide what to take to the
skating party. We’ll find out about the moon and make our final plans
tomorrow. All of you come over to my house. Tra-la. Good night!”