Trial by Jury
Sim’s library was an ideal room for the girls to carry out their plan.
Seated at a large desk, where Sim’s father often worked at night, Arden
assumed the rôle of judge, or lawyer, they were not quite sure which.
Sim, Terry, and Dot, in varying positions of comfort, were perched around
her.
Events had been too exciting to warrant “time out” for Dorothy to change
from her traveling clothes, so she simply kicked off her shoes and gave
Althea the keys to her bags. The unpacking would be accomplished swiftly
and skillfully with everything put neatly away and any wrinkles
completely ironed out.
Arden sat with pen poised and her face alight with eagerness, a
dark-haired, blue-eyed Portia.
“Now we’ll begin,” she said. “Who was the first person to mention
Sycamore Hall, and how can we connect him with the mystery?”
“I was,” answered Terry. “I suggested that we ride by. I was tired of the
old roads.”
“Theodosia Landry, student,” Arden wrote in a schoolgirl’s hand,
“suggested visiting spot. Of course, Terry, you knew nothing about the
legend that the place was haunted?”
“I object.” Sim sprang up. “That’s a leading question. How do we know she
didn’t? Remember, we are all guilty until proven innocent.”
“I’ll ask it another way, then,” Arden agreed. “Did you have any
knowledge of ghost stories emanating from Sycamore Hall, the house in
question?”
Arden was well pleased at the businesslike way in which she was
conducting the investigation.
“Absolutely none, it was merely a coincidence,” Terry replied and Arden
penned her answer.
“Who next mentioned the house?” Arden resumed her rôle of detective.
“Richard Howe,” Terry supplied. “He seemed surprised that we wanted to go
there and didn’t seem anxious to take us.”
“Yes, and it was he who told us the house was haunted!” chimed in Sim.
Arden wrote down Dick’s name and occupation and the charge against him.
“Next come the men running from the house when they frightened Sim’s
horse. Sim, what did they say they had seen?” Arden asked, busily
writing, her head on one side and the tip of her tongue showing between
her white teeth as she worked.
“Dick asked them what was the matter, and one said he wouldn’t work there
any longer. That he wouldn’t stay where there were ghosts,” Terry
supplied promptly.
“What happened after that?” Arden asked. “I’m a little confused, things
happened so quickly.”
“I’ll testify again,” Terry exclaimed eagerly. “This is lots of fun. Then
we went back to the house after calming our horses, and entered the
living room.”
“Where was Richard Howe then?” asked Dorothy from a deep armchair. “It
seems to me you’re losing sight of him. After all, he is the one who
would want to keep the house standing.”
“I don’t remember whether he went in first or after we did,” Terry
answered, “but we were all together in the living room when we heard the
noise.”
“Dick said there were no workmen in the house when I suggested it might
be they who were responsible for the manifestations, so apparently he
knew we were alone there,” Sim said. “It does seem as though he knows
more than we think.”
“We will each have to report what we were doing and what we heard as we
were in the house. Your story comes later in the course of events, Dot.
You check up on us and ask questions when we leave anything out. Now——”
Arden took a deep breath. “Sim Westover, or, rather, Bernice,” she
corrected herself with a little giggle, “how about you?”
“I was standing near the door of the parlor leading to the hall when I
heard a bump—bump—like someone coming downstairs. I became frightened and
ran out,” Sim stated simply.
“Terry?” questioned the youthful inquisitor.
“I was looking at the picture of the girl over the fireplace, and Dick
was looking out the window. He had his back to the room,” Terry told her
story.
“And I,” said Arden, “was near Terry, also looking at the picture when
the noise came. My recollection is that Sim ran out first, then Terry and
Dick, and I last. The noise was definitely louder when we left.”
“But you didn’t actually see anything?” Dorothy asked practically.
“No,” Arden resumed, “we only heard it. When we got home, Moselle told us
that she knew the men who had been working there and that they told her
they had seen the figure. Do you suppose real detectives would consider
that?”
“If we want to be very thorough we ought to look those men up and
interview them,” Dorothy decided. “But let’s go on for the time being.
Don’t I come next?”
“Dorothy Keene,” Arden wrote and added: “student.”
“I heard from the car hammering that suddenly stopped and then a cry. The
men rushed out of the house. When I went upstairs I saw nothing,” she
remarked.
“The next people were the men who returned and the contractor. We can
almost rule them out. It’s Callahan’s job to tear the place down,” Arden
went on, pushing a stray lock of dark hair out of her eye.
“Granny Howe appeared after that,” Sim added. “Let me report about her,
Arden.”
“Proceed,” Arden said with dignity.
“She poked her head in at the door and asked what the trouble was,” began
Sim. “Then she came in and asked if the men had gone and laughed when we
told her they had,” she finished.
“That covers everyone and everything,” Arden remarked putting the top on
the fountain pen she had been using. “And from it all, the only
conclusion we can come to is that two separate sets of workmen were
frightened away by something they claim they saw or didn’t see. While we
only heard sounds.”
“You’ll have to admit, though, that it was very strange that the horses
should be so frightened _before_ we came out. That is, we are
_reasonably_ certain that we did not frighten them ourselves,” Terry
suggested smartly.
“There’s something in that,” agreed Sim, “and also don’t forget the
number of people who heard the same kind of noises and claim they saw the
same thing at the same time.”
Arden stacked the sheets of paper containing the history of “The Jockey
Hollow Case,” as she had called it, and suggested that they be put in a
safe place so more could be added. All the girls felt that there was much
more to come and hoped to get new evidence from Granny Howe when they
took tea with her.
Sim took the papers, locked them in a small drawer in the desk, and took
the key.
“I’ll put the key on a chain and wear it around my neck. Then it will be
safe.” She looked at her friends with shining eyes. It was so exciting to
be in the very center of a thrilling mystery.
The girls nodded their approval and began talking brightly of all they
had done and seen as though they might have forgotten something
important. But on the whole they were well pleased with their work and
agreed it was very clever of Arden to suggest it; one useful fact
remembered from reading countless detective tales had come their way.