[Illustration: “Come here quick! Tell me what you see.”
_Girl Scouts at Singing Sands_ (See page 82)]
_Girl Scouts
at
Singing Sands_
_BY_
MILDRED A. WIRT
_ILLUSTRATED_
by MARGUERITE GEYER
CUPPLES AND LEON COMPANY
_Publishers_ _New York_
Copyright, 1955, by
CUPPLES AND LEON COMPANY
_All Rights Reserved_
GIRL SCOUTS AT SINGING SANDS
_Printed in the United States of America_
CONTENTS
_Chapter_ _Page_
1 Snug Down 5
2 The Locked Door 18
3 Hager’s Hole 29
4 Night Sounds 36
5 Song of the Flute 44
6 The White Witch 52
7 The Treasure Box 61
8 Valuable Cargo 70
9 “Is Joe There?” 79
10 A Midnight Disturbance 88
11 Spell of the Cave 96
12 The Private Road 103
13 The Missing Key 113
14 A Familiar Face 123
15 Judy’s Mistake 132
16 Another Disturbance 141
17 Smoke in the Woods 150
18 An Urgent Call 159
19 The Hide-Out 168
20 Treachery 176
21 Trucker’s Welcome 183
22 Descent into the Cave 192
23 The Siphon 200
24 Help from Captain Hager 207
25 Court of Honor 214
_Chapter 1_
SNUG DOWN
Twilight was creeping up Old Baldy Mountain as the dusty station wagon
turned in at the private road leading to Pine Cone Girl Scout Camp.
In the front seat beside the driver, Miss Louise Ward, troop leader,
twisted sideways to smile at the six girls who rode directly behind.
All were attired in the neat, green uniform of the organization, but
each member of Beaver Patrol, it seemed, wore her dark green beret at a
different angle.
“We’ll soon be there now, girls,” the troop leader remarked. “Pine Cone
is lovely. We should have a grand vacation.”
“I suppose it’s too late for a swim this afternoon,” remarked Judy
Grant. She was one of the newest members of the patrol, a pleasant,
dark-haired girl with saucy brown eyes and a ready wit.
“I’m afraid that by the time we’re snug down in our tents, it will
be supper time,” the teacher replied, looking at her wrist watch.
“Besides, we’re all rather tired after driving from Fairfield.”
“I’ll be ready for chow whenever it comes,” declared plump,
good-natured Ardeth Padgett. “This invigorating pine air has given me a
tremendous appetite.”
“Given it to you?” teased Beverly Chester. “I’d say you always had it!”
The remark was made and accepted in fun. Nevertheless, Beverly had a
quick tongue which occasionally annoyed even her best friends. At one
time, the dark-haired eighth grader had been leader of the patrol.
However, during the previous winter, an unfortunate skiing incident had
caused her to become conscious of her personality handicap, and she had
insisted upon turning the post over to Kathleen Atwell.
Kathleen was considered one of the most level-headed girls in the
organization. A natural leader, she always was thoughtful of others and
had a way of getting things done with a minimum of fuss.
The other patrol members were Betty Bache, who wore her sandy hair in
a short boyish bob, and Virginia Cunningham, an excellent athlete.
Judy had nicknamed the three girls the “A-B-C’s” because of their last
names--Atwell--Bache--Cunningham.
All the girls lived in the little city of Fairfield, some distance
from Old Baldy Mountain. Throughout Spring, they had worked very hard
to save enough money for an outing at the official Girl Scout Camp on
Morning Glory Lake. Now, as the station wagon turned into the private
road, they felt that they were indeed at the threshold of a wonderful
adventure.
“Our arrival here is somewhat different from the one last winter when
we trudged into Maple Leaf Lodge,” Virginia Cunningham commented,
grinning at the recollection. “Remember?”
“Can one ever forget?” chuckled Judy. Contentedly, she drew a deep
breath of the pine laden mountain air. “No one to meet us ... a
dreadful snow storm ... the lodge closed ... and that horrible
caretaker!”
“A Scout camp is different, I promise you,” Miss Ward assured the
girls. “Everything is carefully planned. Nothing ever is left to
chance. We should be there any minute now.”
Eagerly, the girls leaned forward in their seats, striving for the
first glimpse of the clear blue lake which they knew would soon be
visible through the tall, stately pines. On either side of the curving
road, they saw rustic signs pointing out interesting trails.
“There it is!” suddenly cried Betty Bache.
To the right, the girls caught a flash of blue water. A moment later,
as the station wagon rounded another curve, they saw the camp itself, a
cluster of tents, with main lodge and dining hall.
The station wagon pulled up at an office near the entrance gate.
Everyone scrambled out, unkinking cramped legs. As the girls helped the
driver unload dunnage, Miss Ward went inside to register the patrol.
She was gone a long while. When finally she rejoined the group, it was
evident by the expression of her face that something had gone wrong.
“Girls, I hate to tell you this--” she began apologetically.
“Don’t say we aren’t to stay!” exclaimed Beverly Chester. “That would
be the last straw!”
“We’re staying,” the teacher replied. “However, there’s been a mix-up
on reservations. Another patrol, which wasn’t expected until next week,
arrived ahead of time.”
“Then there’s no place for us?” Kathleen asked.
“Miss Lubell, the camp director, is extremely upset about it. One tent,
which sleeps four, is available. If we can make out with that for
tonight, more satisfactory arrangements probably can be completed by
tomorrow.”
“There are seven of us,” Beverly pointed out.
“The more the merrier!” declared Judy cheerfully. “I don’t mind being
crowded for a night or two. For that matter, it’s warm enough to sleep
out under the trees. We’ll get along fine.”
“Of course,” added Kathleen heartily, “Scouts aren’t softies.”
“I knew you’d feel that way about it,” Miss Ward said, pleased by the
willingness of the girls to accept inconvenience. “Miss Lubell is
taking me in with her, so that will make only six for the tent.”
After registration had been completed, the girls were shown to their
temporary quarters. They stowed their dunnage, spread their blankets
and changed into informal camp clothes. Carefully reading the rules
posted on a bulletin board, they learned that they would have only a
half hour until the evening meal would be served.
“Let’s see the beach at least,” Virginia proposed. “We have a few
minutes free time.”
A walk led down a gentle slope to Morning Glory Lake, a deep bowl of
deep blue, edged with a ruffle of green forest. The beach had been
cleared of stones and sticks, extending for a long distance. There was
a roped off area for safe swimming, as well as a dock to which were
tied a sailboat and two rowboats.
Judy bent down to test the water with her finger. “Cold,” she reported
with a laugh. “It’s just as well, I guess, because otherwise, I’d be
tempted to leap in, clothes and all!”
The girls of Beaver Patrol met the waterfront director, their unit
leader and several counselors. Members of other patrols and troops
came by to chat and to provide scraps of information relative to camp
routine.
Several of the Beaver Patrol girls were inspecting the outdoor ovens
when the unit leader approached the group.
“I’m looking for Judy Grant,” she said.
“Here I am,” Judy said, separating herself from the other girls. She
could not guess why she had been singled out for attention.
“I have a telegram for you. It came only a moment ago from the village.”
“A telegram?” Judy repeated. She was startled, and stood staring at
the yellow envelope which the unit leader offered.
A half dozen fears assailed her. Her father or mother might have
been taken unexpectedly ill! Perhaps her brother Ted had suffered an
accident! At the very least, something must have gone wrong at home,
and now it might be necessary for her to return to Fairfield before the
vacation really started.
“Well, Judy, why don’t you open it?” Virginia demanded. “Don’t look so
scared.”
“This is the first telegram I ever received,” Judy replied, a bit
shakily.
Ripping open the envelope, she scanned the message. Her chubby face
with its splattering of freckles became a study as she read.
“Bad news?” Betty Bache finally asked.
“No, not exactly. It’s from Aunt Mattie.”
“I don’t recall having heard you speak of her,” remarked Virginia.
“Aunt Mattie is a character. She’s coming here for two weeks.”
“To the Scout Camp?” Beverly inquired.
“Oh, no! Only to the resort area.” Judy folded the telegram and placed
it in the pocket of her slacks. “Aunt Mattie, as usual, must have
acted on impulse. Anyway, she wants me to find her a nice cottage with
reasonable rent.”
“And you haven’t a bed to call your own!” chuckled Kathleen. “From
what I’ve heard, space is at a premium in this locality.”
“That’s right,” agreed Ardeth. “I noted as we drove up the mountain,
that there were no vacancies anywhere. Everything seemed to have been
taken.”
“I saw one place for rent,” Virginia informed the group. “Remember that
sign that said: ‘To Calico Cave?’”
“Yes, I noticed it particularly,” nodded Judy. “I was wondering if
Calico Cave is only a name, or if the road leads to a real cave.”
“A cottage that looked practically new stood on the opposite side of
the road,” Virginia went on. “It was rather cute, I thought. At any
rate, a signboard in the yard said the place was for rent. A real
estate man’s name was given, but I didn’t make note of it.”
“That cottage may be just the ticket!” Judy declared. “I’ll talk to
Miss Ward, and if she says I may, I’ll try to rent the place tomorrow.”
Actually, it was nearly noon the next day before the girls gave further
thought to Aunt Mattie’s housing problem. Camp routine absorbed them
completely. There were so many fascinating things to do, so many
interesting places to explore, that they neither desired nor sought
permission to leave Pine Cone.
A brisk swim in the lake preceded breakfast, and after the camp work
was done, there were classes in nature lore and first aid.
At luncheon, however, Judy broached the problem that was on her mind,
showing Miss Ward the telegram.
“I’m sure Aunt Mattie wouldn’t have made the request, if she had
realized how difficult it is to obtain cottages here,” she apologized.
“Why, I think it’s nice your aunt is coming,” Miss Ward replied. “Of
course we’ll help her find a place. _A Girl Scout’s duty is to be
useful and to help others._”
“That’s law three,” Judy said with a relieved grin. “I just didn’t want
to put anyone to the trouble of having to take me to the village. Aunt
Mattie’s good fun, and I’ll love having her near.”
Later that afternoon the Scout leader arranged for all the girls in the
Beaver Patrol to ride down the mountain to the little town of Milburn,
a railroad and tourist center.
“I may as well tell you the bad news,” Miss Ward remarked regretfully
as the camp station wagon rolled smoothly around the curves. “You’ll be
crowded into a single tent for another night or two. Miss Lubell tried,
but wasn’t able to make other arrangements.”
“Oh, it wasn’t half bad last night,” Kathleen returned. “We’ll manage.”
“Of course,” added Judy cheerfully.
By this time, the station wagon approached a crossroad which bisected
the main highway nearly at a right angle.
“There it is!” Ardeth cried, rolling down the car window. “The road to
Calico Cave! That cottage Virginia noticed is on the other side of the
highway, perched up on a slope among the trees. See it?”
“I do!” cried Judy. “Why, it’s a darling little cottage! I’m sure Aunt
Mattie would love it--if the rent isn’t too high.”
“All rents are sky high in this area,” Beverly Chester warned. “I’ll
bet they’re asking a small fortune for the place. Probably that’s why
it’s vacant.”
“Anyway, it will do no harm to inquire,” Judy said. As the station
wagon halted for a moment, she jotted down the name of the real estate
agent, who offered the cottage for rent.
Twenty minutes later the girls were in Milburn, standing at the door of
the Timothy F. Krumm Realty Co. office.
Mr. Krumm was busy making entries in a book, but he laid aside his
pen as the Scouts approached his cluttered desk. He was a baldish,
middle-aged man with a nervous habit of moistening his lips.
Judy introduced the group, and mentioned her interest in the cottage
which was for rent. Timidly, she inquired the rental price.
“Let’s not talk about price,” Mr. Krumm said briskly. “First, I want
you to see Calico Cottage. Five beautiful rooms, including kitchen,
fully equipped, and a tiled bath with hot and cold running water. A
collosal bargain! And you’ll not find another cottage vacant within six
miles of Morning Glory Lake.”
Judy glanced uneasily at Miss Ward and remained silent. She very much
feared that “the bargain” would be offered at a price too steep for
Aunt Mattie’s modest pocketbook.
“Well, I don’t know,” she began doubtfully. “My aunt isn’t prepared to
pay a very high rental--”
“Give that detail no thought,” Mr. Krumm insisted. “I’ll run you up
there in my car. If you like the cottage--and you’ll be crazy about
it--we can come to terms.”
Almost before she could think, Judy was escorted to the realtor’s car
which was parked at the curb. Miss Ward, Virginia and Ardeth also
decided to accompany them, while the others elected to wait in the
village.
During the swift ride up the mountain road, Mr. Krumm talked endlessly,
extolling the virtues of the cottage he hoped to rent.
“It’s a classy little place,” he told the girls. “Brand spanking new!
You’ll not find a snappier cottage anywhere in the area.”
“But the rental--” Judy began again.
“Now don’t try to get the cart before the horse,” Mr. Krumm interrupted
once more. “Just hold your ponies until you see the cottage.”
Soon the car drew up amid the tall pines, in a lonely but lovely
section of the forest. Mr. Krumm went ahead to remove the front door
key from beneath an over-sized rubber “Welcome” mat on the porch. He
unlocked the door.
“No neighbors hereabouts to bother one,” he asserted, stepping aside so
that the girls might enter. “You’ll find everything in apple-pie order.
Two airy bedrooms. Good mattresses. Nice draperies. Everything the very
best--top hole!”
“It seems a bit musty,” Miss Ward commented.
“Oh, the place needs an airing,” Mr. Krumm replied, quickly raising the
windows. “You know how it is after a cottage has been closed for a long
while.”
“A long while?” the teacher repeated. “Then you’ve had no recent
renters?”
“That was a slip of tongue, a mere figure of speech,” the real estate
man said carelessly. “You like the place?”
“It is attractive,” Judy said after completing a quick inspection of
the kitchen. “My aunt though, will be alone. She requires only one
bedroom. So I’m afraid the rent may be too high.”
“Tell you what! I’ll make you a special offer,” Mr. Krumm said, eyeing
the girl shrewdly. “That is, I will if you’ll agree that the cottage
will be occupied for the full period of the rental. Say, fifty dollars?”
“A week?”
“For the two weeks. You can’t say that isn’t a generous offer. Rents
are high at Morning Glory Lake.”
“It’s a very reasonable rental, I’m sure,” Judy agreed. “There isn’t
anything--wrong with the place?”
Mr. Krumm drew himself up haughtily. “What an idea! I take a shine
to you girls and offer you a real bargain. Then you think there’s
something wrong with the cottage! You think I’m pulling a fast one,
handing you a cabbage!”
“I’m sorry,” Judy apologized hastily. “My question wasn’t tactful. The
cottage is beautifully furnished. If Miss Ward says it is all right,
I’ll take it.”
“Your aunt should be quite comfortable here,” Miss Ward replied after a
moment’s hesitation.
“Fine!” Mr. Krumm approved. He whipped a receipt book from his pocket.
“Now if you’ll kindly pay in advance, we’ll close the deal on the spot.”
Judy had brought only twenty-five dollars with her, but Miss Ward
advanced the remainder, knowing she would be repaid. Mr. Krumm then
handed over the key. Judy asked him if he would mind if the cottage
were put to use before the arrival of her aunt.
“The rent’s paid, and the place is yours, for better or for worse,” the
realtor replied. “All I ask is that you don’t come running to me with
complaints, or a demand for a return of your money. The deal’s final.”
“That’s understood,” Judy agreed.
Having pocketed the fifty dollars, Mr. Krumm seemed eager to be away.
“You may want to look the place over more carefully,” he said quickly.
“I have a pressing engagement in town. Suppose I have your friends pick
you up in the camp station wagon. Okay?”
“Yes, that will be satisfactory,” Miss Ward replied.
“Oh, by the way,” Mr. Krumm said, apparently as an after-thought.
“Better keep that door to the cellar locked.”
“Door?” Judy repeated with misgiving. “I didn’t notice a door. Is there
a special reason--”
Mr. Krumm did not wait for her to complete the question. The girls
were certain he heard and wished to avoid answering. At any rate,
without offering further information, he tipped his hat and hastened
down the weed-grown path to his car.
_Chapter 2_
THE LOCKED DOOR
Miss Ward and the Scouts watched Mr. Krumm drive away with mingled
feelings. Already they were wondering if they had made a mistake in
renting the cottage.
“‘For better or for worse,’” Judy echoed the real estate man’s words.
“‘Final deal.’ It all has an ominous sound.”
“Especially that remark about the locked door,” remarked Virginia. “But
the rent seemed so attractive.”
“Anyway, it was the only place available,” Ardeth pointed out. “So why
worry?”
Judy left the porch to inspect the foundation of the building.
Stooping, she ran an exploratory hand across the crumbling mortar
between the bricks.
“This cottage may be brand spanking new,” she remarked, “but the
building foundation certainly isn’t! Not that it matters, if the place
is comfortable.”
“I’d like to know what Mr. Krumm meant about keeping the cellar door
locked,” Virginia said. “Let’s investigate.”
However, before the girls could reenter the cottage, a milk delivery
truck rolled into the private drive. From the cab leaped a young driver
with reddish hair and a carefree smile. A frisky black and white
short-haired dog trotted at his heels as he came over to the porch with
a wire rack filled with milk bottles.
“Good afternoon,” he said politely, doffing his white cap. “I see you
are moving in. Will you be needing any milk or cream?”
“I’ll take a quart of milk,” Miss Ward decided, selecting a bottle from
the rack.
“How about regular delivery?”
“We’ve rented the cottage for my aunt, who won’t be here for a day or
two,” Judy explained. “If you’ll drop by later on, I’m certain she’ll
sign up.”
“Cloverleaf supplies the best,” the young man said. “My name, by the
way, is Bart Ranieau.”
“You must be of French descent,” Miss Ward remarked.
“My father came from France, but I inherited my red hair and my temper
from my mother. I’m a mixture--like Pete here.”
The cheerful milkman indicated the little dog that was sniffing at
Judy’s heels.
“He’s real cute,” she declared, patting him. “You call him Pete?”
“He’s mine only by adoption,” Bart replied. “He kept following my
truck, so finally I let him ride. Now he sticks like a burr. Never
could find his owner.”
Picking up the rack of bottles which he had set down on the porch, the
young milkman turned to leave. Directing his remark at Judy, he said in
an offhand way: “Your aunt is the hardy type, I hope. Not the kind that
worries about strange noises?”
“We-ll,” Judy replied, startled by the odd question. “Aunt Mattie is
inclined to be nervous. Is there any reason why she should worry about
this place?”
“Oh, the cottage is okay so far as I know,” Bart answered evasively.
“I’d be the last person to run it down, particularly when Old Krumm is
so desperate for a renter.”
“Desperate? Oh, dear, we thought it was just the opposite!”
“That you were getting a bargain?”
Judy nodded miserably. “Now it proves to be a lemon!”
“I didn’t say that!” the milkman corrected her. “And the cottage _is_ a
bargain for anyone hardy enough to stay here.”
“But what’s wrong with the place?” Judy demanded.
“Maybe your aunt won’t find anything out of the way,” Bart said, edging
off with his rack of bottles. “I shouldn’t have said a word. Old Krumm
would have a fit if he knew I’d so much as opened my kisser.”
“Those noises--”
“Forget ’em. Forget I said a thing. You can take my word for it,
there’s nothing really harmful or dangerous about Calico Cottage.”
The Scouts followed Bart and his dog down the walk, trying to learn
more. But the young milkman obviously was in retreat. With a friendly
wave of his hand, he sprang into the delivery wagon and with Pete at
his side drove off.
“There _is_ something wrong with this cottage!” Judy declared with firm
conviction. “That young man spoke of strange noises.”
“Maybe they have a connection with that locked door Mr. Krumm
mentioned,” Ardeth said. “Judy, I think you’ve rented a house with a
mystery!”
“If that’s all that’s wrong with it, I’ll be pleasantly surprised!”
Judy responded, her voice grim, “I wish I could get my money back.”
“No chance of that, I’m afraid,” commented Miss Ward. “Mr. Krumm
warned us the deal was final. He may have taken advantage of us. That
remains to be seen.”
“Let’s really inspect the cottage,” Virginia proposed. “Mr. Krumm
purposely took us through at a whirlwind pace, so we wouldn’t notice
too much.”
Dejectedly, the girls trooped into the cottage. The living room was
pleasant enough with a rug on the floor, a slightly musty-smelling
davenport, chairs, a good reading light and attractive red calico
curtains at the windows.
Bedrooms also were well furnished and ample wardrobe space had been
provided. Water ran rusty from the kitchen tap when Judy turned it on.
“Apparently, the cottage has been empty a long while,” she remarked. “I
guess Mr. Krumm tagged me for an easy mark all right!”
“If you were taken in, so was I,” said Miss Ward. “All the same, I
can’t for the life of me see very much wrong with this place.”
“Let’s inspect the kitchen,” Virginia urged. “Probably the drain won’t
work.”
The sink proved to be an attractive new unit with shiny faucets and an
unmarred enamel finish. Judy, testing the drain, found that it worked
perfectly.
Ardeth had turned her attention to the big electric refrigerator. When
she plugged in the cord, the machinery began to hum.
“Nothing out-of-order here,” she reported.
Miss Ward meanwhile, quietly had been checking the kitchen doors. One
opened onto a back porch and another into a storage room. The third
one, which apparently led down to the cellar, was locked.
She turned the knob and rattled it a couple of times.
“Any key?” Judy inquired.
“None in the door.”
“Why do you suppose it’s kept locked?” Ardeth speculated. “Is there
any reason why we shouldn’t inspect the cellar? After all, it’s part of
the cottage.”
“In a way, it isn’t,” Judy remarked. “I’m certain from examining the
foundation of this place, that the cottage was built on an old base.”
“I don’t see anything so mysterious about a locked cellar door,”
Virginia asserted, losing interest. “Like enough, the basement is damp
and musty. So Mr. Krumm advised keeping the door locked.”
“Why should he tell us to keep it locked, when we have no key with
which to open it?” Ardeth demanded. She was struck by an intriguing
thought. “Say, maybe that key is here somewhere!”
“I know I’m not going to waste time searching for it,” Judy declared.
“I am a bit worried though, about that milkman’s reference to strange
noises. I wish I could be sure the cottage is all right before Aunt
Mattie moves in.”
“There is a way,” Miss Ward returned. “We could sleep here for a night.
In fact, it would relieve the congestion at Pine Cone Camp. We might
try it tomorrow night.”
“Why not?” cried Virginia enthusiastically. “It would be fun!”
“We could stock the cottage larder and have everything ready for your
aunt when she comes, Judy,” added Ardeth with equal zest for the
proposal. “How about it?”
“I’d like to stay,” declared Judy. “It will give us a chance to learn
if anything is wrong with the cottage.”
The girls remained on the premises another half hour. By the time they
were ready to return to Pine Cone Camp, their friends drove up in the
station wagon.
“At least Mr. Krumm relayed our message,” Ardeth said, as she climbed
into the car. “Maybe he isn’t such a bad egg after all.”
From Calico Cottage, the station wagon followed a smooth pavement which
wound in easy curves up the mountain. At a lookout point, the driver
halted briefly to permit the girls to obtain a view of the distant
peaks and valleys. They went on again, but presently were stopped by a
forest ranger, whose green car was parked at the roadside.
“What have we done now?” Beverly Chester muttered uneasily.
The ranger greeted the campers courteously, dropping a handful of
literature into Miss Ward’s lap.
“Welcome to Old Baldy Mountain,” he said. “This entire area is a
national forest preserve. You’re staying at Pine Cone Camp?”
“Yes, we arrived last night,” Miss Ward replied.
“Girl Scouts always are careful about starting fires,” the ranger
continued. “I wish other visitors here were as cooperative. You’re
familiar with the regulations. The most important one is never to start
a fire except in the designated places. You’ll find them all marked on
the forest map.”
“We’ll be careful,” Miss Ward promised.
“My name is Arthur Wentz,” the ranger ended his little talk. “If I can
be of service at any time, let me know.”
Back at Pine Cone Camp a few minutes later, the girls found they had
just enough time for a brisk swim in the lake before dinner.
Judy and Kathleen, who were good swimmers, were paired together. They
tried their skill on the diving board, watched a group of other Scouts
receiving instruction in Red Cross Life Saving, showered off and were
ready for a hot meal when it was served promptly at 5:30 p.m.
Later, when all the girls had gathered for songs and a nature
talk in the main lodge room, Miss Lubell mentioned a plan whereby
all interested patrols would take part in a competitive first-aid
expedition.
“It will work like this,” she related. “Arrangements have been made
for a forest patrol plane to drop messages to the various Scout groups
which will scatter over the mountainside. The notes will provide
fictional location of a plane crash. The patrols are to proceed as
quickly as possible to the site of the crash, administer first aid and
summon help. There will be an award for the patrol which accomplishes
its mission first and with the most skill.”
“If it’s all to be imaginary, how will we give first aid?” Betty Bashe
asked in a puzzled tone.
“Everything will be worked out carefully,” Miss Lubell replied, with
a smile. “Although the crash is to be imaginary, counselors will be at
the secret site selected. Notes pinned on their clothing, will provide
clues as to the type of injury supposedly suffered. For example, one
counselor may have an imaginary broken arm. The unit reaching the scene
first, will be expected to care for the injuries exactly as if they
were real.”
“Say, that will give us first class experience,” Kathleen declared
enthusiastically. “I hope Beaver Patrol wins!”
Next day in camp the girls were given opportunity to brush up on
previous first aid training, and patrol leaders received maps of the
mountain area in the vicinity of Pine Cone Camp.
Throughout the day, when not otherwise absorbed by camp activities, the
girls of Beaver Patrol pored over the map, thoroughly familiarizing
themselves with every road and trail.
After lunch a telegram came for Judy from her Aunt Mattie Meadows,
announcing that she would arrive in two days at Milburn.
“That doesn’t give us too long to prepare the cottage and make certain
that everything is satisfactory there,” Judy remarked, as she showed
Miss Ward the message. “Will we be permitted to stay at the cottage
tonight?”
“I’ve talked it over with Miss Lubell,” the Scout leader replied.
“While she considers it irregular for any of the girls to remain away
from the camp, she realizes that through no fault of hers or ours,
one of the tents is badly overcrowded. So until that situation can
be corrected, she is granting permission for three of the girls, and
myself, to sleep at the cottage. We’ll prepare our own breakfasts
there, and then return here for the day’s program.”
“We’re staying at Calico Cottage tonight then?”
“Yes, Kathleen, as patrol leader, will remain here with Beverly and
Betty. Ardeth and Virginia will go with us to the cottage. The camp
station wagon will take us to Milburn where we can buy necessary
supplies. Then we’ll be deposited at Calico Cottage, and be picked up
again tomorrow morning.”
The plan was acceptable to everyone, although Kathleen, Beverly and
Betty secretly were a bit disappointed that they were not to be
included in the party.
“Never mind!” Miss Ward assured them. “Perhaps tomorrow night, we can
trade places.”
At four o’clock, the station wagon came to take Miss Ward, Judy, Ardeth
and Virginia to the Village. Most of their luggage was left behind, but
each girl had packed a few essentials which would be needed for the
over-night stay.
At Milburn, the Scouts sought a grocery store, there to make careful
purchase of a list of supplies they had worked out. As she paid for the
groceries, Judy remarked that they were to be used at Calico Cottage.
“Calico Cottage?” repeated the woman who had waited upon her. “Don’t
tell me you’re staying at that place!”
“Yes, we are for a few days,” Judy admitted. “I rented the cottage for
my aunt. Until she comes, a few of the Scouts plan to use some of the
bed space.”
“You may like the cottage,” the woman replied. “No one could hire me to
stay there though!”
“Why not?” Judy inquired, instantly alert. “What _is_ wrong with the
cottage?”
“That’s what folks around here would like to know,” the woman replied
with an expressive shrug of her shoulders. “It’s close to Hager’s Hole
for one thing.”
“Hager’s Hole?”
“Some call it Calico Cave.” The clerk rang up the sale and packed the
groceries into sacks for convenient carrying. She did not seem inclined
to carry on the conversation.
“Please tell us what you know about the cottage,” Judy requested
earnestly.
“Really, I don’t know a thing. I shouldn’t have said a word. It’s just
that it seems sort of queer about the tenants.”
“Did anything happen to them?”
“Oh, no,” the woman answered. “But the last couple stayed only two
days. They moved out in the middle of the night. Since then Mr. Krumm
hasn’t been able to find another renter.”
_Chapter 3_
HAGER’S HOLE
The sun had lowered behind the spruce trees as the camp station wagon
unloaded three sober-faced Scouts and their leader at the doorstep of
Calico Cottage.
“I’m not certain that we should stay here,” Miss Ward remarked
uneasily. “All this talk we’ve heard about the place makes me wonder if
I’m acting wisely to allow the group to remain overnight.”
“And I’m worried about Aunt Mattie coming here,” Judy added. “I wish I
never had taken the cottage. We’ve rented a lemon, that’s certain.”
The girls had been unable to glean any definite information from the
woman in the grocery store. However, her observation that other tenants
repeatedly had moved out, had filled them with misgiving.
At Miss Ward’s suggestion, Judy had gone to Mr. Krumm to ask for a rent
refund. He had rejected the request, impatiently assuring her that
nothing was wrong with the cottage.
“I thought Girl Scouts had nerve,” he lectured her. “What happens? You
hear a few busybodies passing gossipy remarks, and immediately jump to
false conclusions. When you rented the cottage I gave you a good price
on it with the understanding that you’d stick by the deal. Now you come
crying to me before you’ve spent even a night in the place.”
“Girl Scouts do have nerve,” Judy had replied, carefully controlling
her temper. “We believe in being cautious though. And we don’t like to
be misled or cheated.”
“It was your own proposition,” Mr. Krumm retorted. “You wanted the
cottage and you got it. I’m making no refund!”
So now, as the three Scouts stood on the porch waiting as Miss Ward
unlocked the door, they were wondering what the night might bring forth.
There was little conversation as the girls quietly set to work making
the cottage more liveable. Ardeth opened the windows to air out the
rooms. Virginia made up the beds, while Judy and Miss Ward put away the
groceries.
“You’re not much worried about staying here tonight are you?” Judy
asked the leader as she stacked eggs in the refrigerator.
“No. If I were, I’d take the girls back to Pine Cone Camp,” Miss Ward
replied. “Frankly though, I don’t like the things we’ve heard. I can’t
imagine why tenants would leave here suddenly unless--”
“Calico Cottage may have a ghost,” Judy supplied with a nervous giggle.
“Judy, we know there are no such things!”
“Maybe by staying here we can disprove the rumors that have been
circulating,” Judy said soberly. “Now, if we could, that would be
performing a real service for Mr. Krumm.”
An inspection of the cottage and the grounds immediately surrounding
it, proved reassuring. Save that a musty, damp odor lingered in the
dwelling even after rooms had been thoroughly aired, the girls could
detect nothing amiss.
“Our telephone is connected,” Miss Ward reported. She had tested it by
calling Miss Lubell at Pine Cone Camp. “It’s reassuring to know that if
anything should go wrong, we’ll not be cut off from help.”
“As we were last winter at Maple Leaf Lodge!” Judy added with a laugh.
“Remember how that man, who pretended to be a caretaker, cut the wires?”
“And the exciting time we had at Penguin Pass with Monstro the
Snowman!” contributed Virginia, who had overheard the conversation.
“Those were the days!”
“You speak as if our adventures are over,” chuckled Ardeth. “I have a
hunch we may have a few here at Calico Cottage before we’re through.”
The three girls became thoughtful as they reflected upon a recent
skiing excursion to Maple Leaf Lodge on Candy Mountain. Judy, at the
time, had been a Tenderfoot Scout. However, she had proven her courage
and by passing difficult tests, had moved up in rank.
For that matter, not only Judy, but the entire patrol had won the
admiration of villagers by the efficient manner in which the capture
of a dangerous criminal had been accomplished. This story of the Girl
Scouts’ meeting with a clever impersonator has been told in the first
volume of a series, entitled: “The Girl Scouts at Penguin Pass.”
Judy and Ardeth peeled potatoes for the evening meal, set the table and
prepared a simple salad.
“Anything more?” Judy then inquired.
“Not for awhile,” Miss Ward replied. “The meat loaf will take at least
thirty minutes more in the oven. Then we’ll have dinner.”
“Mind if Ardeth and I do a bit of exploring?”
“Not if you’ll be back within half an hour.”
“We will,” Judy promised. “Want to come along, Virginia?”
“No, thanks, I’ll stay to help Miss Ward with last minute things,” she
decided. “Besides, I had enough hiking this morning.”
Letting themselves out the screen door, Judy and Ardeth walked through
the aisle of tall trees to the main highway. Then, without any
discussion, they turned into the narrow private road, and struck off in
the general direction of Calico Cave.
“No telling how far it may be,” Judy presently remarked. “Or whether
we can find it quickly. I simply have to see that place!”
“Caves always fascinated me,” declared Ardeth, walking fast to keep up
with her friend. “I hope this one has stalactites.”
For awhile, the girls walked directly into the setting sun. The road
was hemmed in on either side with stately evergreens which spiced the
air with a pleasant fragrance. Presently, hearing a sound behind her,
Judy looked back and was astonished to see a small dog following almost
at her heels. She halted to coax him to her. He wagged his stub tail,
and licked her hand affectionately.
“Why, Ardeth, it’s Pete!” she exclaimed.
“Not the milkman’s dog?”
“It’s the same dog, I’m sure. Do you suppose he jumped off the milk
truck and is lost?”
“He doesn’t act lost,” Ardeth rejoined as the animal started on ahead
of Judy. “In fact, he seems to know right where he’s going.”
“Maybe we should catch him,” Judy said doubtfully. “He might get lost
in the woods.”
The two Scouts started after Pete, but the faster they hurried, the
more distance the dog put between them. Now and then, he would pause to
look back and bark, as if to tell them that he thoroughly enjoyed the
game.
Presently the weed-grown private road came to a dead-end in a loop
which permitted a car to turn around and retravel the route it had
come. A weather-beaten signboard read: “To Calico Cave,” its painted
arrow pointing up a rocky trail.
“Come back here, Pete!” Judy called. “Why, you little scamp!”
Paying not the slightest heed, the dog trotted up the trail.
“He acts as if he’s been here before,” Ardeth observed. “Maybe he’s
trying to guide us to the cave!”
“We really should turn back,” Judy said. “Oh, well, if we hurry, maybe
we’ll have time to take a quick peek at the cave.”
Struggling up the sharp incline, the girls soon came to an opening amid
the tall bushes. To their right was an expanse of limestone rock, badly
eroded by the elements.
“There it is! The cave!” Judy cried as she discerned a small, dark
opening.
Pete had gone directly to the entrance and stood there, barking and
jerking his head, as if to beckon the girls.
“That dog has been here before all right!” Judy declared. “Otherwise he
wouldn’t be so excited about the place.”
With Ardeth close behind, she picked her way across the rocky path to
the projecting shelf. The cave opening was barely shoulder height and
not more than four feet wide.
Curiously, Judy peered down into the dark interior. “It’s just a
narrow passage leading gradually into a deep endless hole,” she
reported. “I imagine though, that the cave may open up into a large
chamber somewhere below. Want to explore?”
“You and your jokes!”
Judy laughed and turned to leave. Ardeth however, crouched down to
direct her gaze into the opening.
“I can hear water dripping,” she reported. “Say, why do you suppose the
name of this place was changed from Hager’s Hole to Calico Cave? Or are
they one and the same?”
“Ask Pete,” Judy replied with a chuckle. “He seems to know more about
the place than we do.”
She whistled to attract the dog’s attention, but he paid her no heed.
Even after she and Ardeth started down the path, he kept sniffing at
the cave entrance.
“Come on, Pete!” Judy called impatiently.
“Maybe he thinks he’ll find a rabbit down in that hole,” Ardeth
remarked. “I hate to leave him here alone. I’ve heard of dogs losing
themselves in caves.”
“He’ll come in a minute or two,” Judy returned. “He’s only trying to
tease us.”
Pete, however, did not follow the girls. At the bend of the path, they
looked back again. Even as they called to him, he barked and vanished
into the dark hole.
_Chapter 4_
NIGHT SOUNDS
“Why, that crazy Pete!” Judy cried as she saw the dog disappear into
the opening. “He went into the cave!”
Worried lest the pet lose himself in the dark cavern, the girls quickly
ran back to the shelf of projecting rock.
Anxiously, Judy peered into the deep, rather terrifying hole.
“Pete!” she called. “Pete! Come back here!”
The little dog could not be seen, but the girls heard a muffled,
answering bark. It seemed to come from far down in the bowels of the
rock.
“He’s a long distance in,” Judy said anxiously. “What’ll we do, Ardeth?
Go after him?”
“No, we don’t dare,” the other decided. “It’s dangerous to explore
caves without taking precautions. Besides, Miss Ward is expecting us at
the cottage.”
“Pete may never find his way out. That’s what worries me.”
The dog’s smothered bark gradually faded until no sound could be
heard. Thrusting head and shoulders into the hole, Judy tried again to
catch a glimpse of the truant pet.
“Not a sign of him,” she reported hopelessly. “All we can do is report
to Bart Ranieau. He was such a nice little dog--”
“Do you see him?” Ardeth demanded as Judy broke off her remark.
For a long moment, Judy made no reply. Then she pulled her head out of
the opening, staring at her friend rather wide-eyed.
“What’s wrong?” Ardeth questioned. “Did you see a ghost?”
“You look down there in that hole,” Judy urged. “Tell me what you see.”
Ardeth moved in close beside her, peering into the darkness. A gust of
wind ruffled her hair and nearly bowled her headlong into the cave. She
grasped a projection of limestone rock for support.
“See it?” Judy demanded.
“Pete, you mean?”
“No! No! Look far down the passageway, Ardeth.”
Try as she would, Ardeth could see nothing save empty space. Now that
her eyes were becoming more accustomed to the blackness, she could make
out a white rock floor, and on the ceiling, a wet patch where grew a
tight mat of lichens. But that was all.
“Look down,” Judy directed again. “I’m sure I didn’t imagine that I
saw something moving in the passageway.”
Once more Ardeth directed her gaze below, and involuntarily stiffened.
“Now I see it!” she exclaimed. “Why, it looks like a moving light!”
“I thought so too,” Judy agreed. “You don’t suppose anyone could be
down there?”
“At this late hour?”
“It doesn’t seem likely, does it?”
“Maybe Calico Cave has a ghost,” Ardeth declared with a nervous giggle.
“Wouldn’t that be something!”
Judy had peered into the cave again. “The light is moving away,
descending the passageway,” she reported. “Ardeth, Pete may have
started down there to investigate.”
“If he did, he’s welcome to the job! Just to look down into that ink
well gives me the jitters. Poor Pete! We’ll never see him again, I’ll
bet.”
“Someone will have to get him out,” Judy insisted. “It would be too
heartless to let him die in there. Miss Ward will know what to do.”
Though she would not have admitted it, the moving light which seemed to
have no explanation, had somewhat unnerved her. With dusk coming on,
she was eager to be away from the lonely locality.
“Okay,” Judy agreed reluctantly.
Before getting up from the crouched position, she took a last look
into the cave. The light had vanished completely and Pete likewise
could not be seen.
“Since we can’t save Pete without risking our safety, I guess we may as
well hike for Calico Cottage,” Ardeth declared quickly.
The chill of evening was in the air as the two girls silently trudged
back the way they had come. A rising breeze whipped the evergreens
overhead, making ragged shadows, and causing the needles to whisper
mournfully. Far below, the White River remained visible in the dying
sunlight, a wide, shining band of silvery blue.
At Calico Cottage, supper was nearly ready. Judy and Ardeth, however,
had little appetite. Dejectedly, they related their discovery of the
cave, and their misfortune in losing Pete.
“You were wise not to try to venture into that hole,” Miss Ward assured
the two girls. “The dog may wander out by himself. Even if he is lost,
the risk of trying to bring him out without a guide, would be very
great.”
“You really think Pete will get out by himself?” Judy asked,
brightening.
“He may. At any rate, he’ll survive for many days. I’ll telephone the
young milkman and tell him his dog is lost. You’re certain the pet was
his?”
“It was Pete, all right,” Ardeth answered. “He acted as if he’d been in
that cave before too.”
“Then there’s an excellent chance he may find his way out,” the troop
leader asserted. “I’ll telephone the dog’s owner now. Do you recall his
name, Judy?”
“Bart Ranieau.”
Miss Ward went directly to the telephone, but was unable to contact the
young man. She learned that he roomed in the village, and was informed
by his landlady that after coming in from his milk route, he had left
without saying where he intended to go.
“If we can’t get word to him by tomorrow morning, I’ll notify the
forest rangers,” Miss Ward decided. “They’ll know how to proceed.”
As night came on, the girls washed all the dishes and tidied the
kitchen. The very nearness of the cave and the knowledge that Pete was
lost somewhere in its vast recesses, tended to depress them.
Virginia spoke somewhat wistfully of Pine Cone Camp, speculating upon
whether or not the other Scouts might be having a ceremonial fire and
singfest there.
“We’re cut off from the fun here,” Judy acknowledged. “It’s my fault
too. If Aunt Mattie hadn’t sent that telegram, we’d all be in camp
together.”
“Considering the mix-up over reservations, the sleeping arrangement is
much better here,” Ardeth declared. “Besides, we don’t want your aunt
to have this cottage if it isn’t suitable.”
“It’s a Girl Scout’s duty to be useful and to help others,” added
Virginia gravely. “At any rate, we like Calico Cottage.”
“I can’t see anything wrong with the place,” Ardeth picked up the
conversation. “Of course, it’s isolated and a bit lonely off here in
the pines. Now and then that musty odor hangs over the place, and one
can’t seem to localize it. The cottage isn’t really damp.”
“I’ve been annoyed by that odor myself,” said Miss Ward. “It was
especially strong when first we opened up the cottage. I wonder if it
comes from the cellar?”
“With that door locked, we can’t investigate,” Judy responded. “What do
you suppose became of the key? And why did Mr. Krumm advise us to keep
the door locked? Those questions keep going around in my mind.”
The evening passed slowly for the girls. Ardeth sewed and the others
tried to read. As a chill crept over the cottage, Miss Ward lighted
a heater which made the living room more cheerful. By eight-thirty,
everyone was ready to go to bed.
“We must be abroad early in the morning,” Miss Ward warned. “Breakfast
at seven. The camp station wagon will pick us up between eight-thirty
and nine o’clock.”
Judy and Ardeth had elected to share one of the bedrooms, while
Virginia and the teacher took the adjoining chamber. The mattresses
were surprisingly comfortable.
Snuggling down into the covers, Judy closed her eyes, but was annoyed
to discover that she was not sleepy. Ardeth, on the other hand, curled
up like a kitten, and soon was breathing with deep regularity.
“What’s the matter with me anyhow?” Judy asked herself. “I guess I
can’t take the comforts of home.”
For awhile, she stared out the open window, watching the movement of
the pine trees. A strong, cool breeze had arisen. It flapped the calico
draperies and whistled around the corners of the flimsily-built cottage.
Judy resolutely tried not to think of Calico Cave or poor Pete, but
the harder she struggled to banish the unpleasant recollection, the
more clearly it emerged. She could visualize the little dog, wandering
helplessly deeper and deeper into the cavern, always searching for an
exit which never materialized.
“I’m becoming positively morbid!” she told herself sternly. “Enough of
this!”
Judy tossed off the blankets and taking care not to disturb Ardeth,
went quickly to the kitchen for a drink of water.
The cottage was very still. Now that she was abroad, Judy began to
regret that she had left her comfortable, warm bed. The kitchen was
icy cold and the only light came from a half moon which shone eerily
through the windows.
Judy drank a glass of water in the darkness, preferring not to disturb
any of the sleepers by switching on a light. In the kitchen, the damp,
unpleasant odor which the girls had noted earlier, seemed especially
strong.
“I’m sure it comes from the basement,” she thought, sniffing the air
close to the locked door. “Maybe this is why Mr. Krumm wants us to keep
it closed. But what can cause such an odor?”
Judy had started to move away when she was startled by an unusual sound
which seemed to come from beneath the floor of the kitchen. The noise
assaulted her ears as a series of loud thumps.
“Gracious!” Judy thought, backing a step away from the locked cellar
door. “What’s going on down there in the basement? Maybe this place
does have a ghost!”
If the loud thumping, bumping noise had startled Judy, she was to
suffer an even greater shock.
As she held herself rigid, straining to catch the slightest sound,
there arose from below, the clear melodious notes of a flute!
_Chapter 5_
SONG OF THE FLUTE
Judy stood transfixed, listening tensely. The musical notes now had
died out and in the kitchen there was only silence. Had the strange
notes of the flute been no more than a trick of the imagination?
Suddenly she was aware of a sound in the room beyond the kitchen. Judy
whirled to see a white apparition framed in the doorway. She uttered a
choked cry and then laughed aloud in relief. The figure was no ghost,
only Miss Ward in a white bathrobe.
“Did I startle you?” the teacher asked in a whisper. “It is you, Judy?”