PHROSY
Trembling, Jessie sprang out of bed, slipped a negligee about her
shoulders, and ran noiselessly to the window.
She stood there shivering. It came again—that sound—more eerie, more
terrifying than before.
The echo had barely died away when there was a terrific shriek within
the house, and Phrosy, scantily clothed and wild-eyed, rushed from her
room.
“Dat’s de ghost! Dat’s de ghost!” she chattered, terrified. “I done tell
you he was ’roun’ dis place! Ah’m gwine leave here in de mo’nin’!”
“Hush, Phrosy, please,” ordered Miss Alling. She, as well as Amy and
Nell, had been awakened by the hubub, but she alone had had the presence
of mind to light a lamp.
Now, with this illumination to sustain them, they gathered in Jessie’s
room, Miss Alling doing her utmost to reassure and pacify the terrified
Phrosy.
“Ah’m gwine git mah things on dis minute an’ go straight away f’om
here,” protested the latter through chattering teeth. “Ain’t nobody
gwine hold me here no longer.”
“Don’t be absurd, Phrosy,” said Aunt Emma, in a voice that showed her
patience was deserting her. “You know very well you can’t leave here
now. There are no boats running till morning, and I am certainly not
going to get out the car and try the mountain road after dark. Do you
intend to walk?”
“No’m, reckon Ah don’t,” returned Phrosy, somewhat impressed by this
argument but still in the grip of panic. “Reckon dere ain’t no gittin’
away till to-morrow, but I sho intentions to take dat mo’nin’ boat. Ah
wouldn’t stay in dis place any mo’e nights, no’m, not fo’ a million
dollars, Ah wouldn’t.”
“Nobody is likely to offer you that much, anyway, Phrosy,” retorted Miss
Alling, adding, as she turned to Jessie: “Do you know what all this is
about? I haven’t heard anything.”
“Neither have I,” said Amy, standing beside the shivering Nell. “I am
afraid Nell and I missed the show.”
Jessie hesitated. It was evident that she was the only one besides the
colored woman who had heard that agonized moan from the direction of the
swamp. Subconsciously she had been expecting to hear it repeated, but no
sound had greeted her strained attention. If she should tell them that
Phrosy was not the only one to be frightened by that strange and eerie
cry, would they not perhaps laugh at her, as they were now laughing at
Phrosy?
Her hesitation was short-lived, however, for, besides the advisability
of telling the truth at all times, she felt that she owed it to the
groaning Phrosy to admit that there was something queer going on down by
the swamp.
“I heard a noise,” she said.
The girls and Miss Alling stared at her in surprise, while even Phrosy
stopped groaning long enough to bestow upon her a look of awe.
“Why, Jessie, you didn’t really!” cried Amy, delightedly. “What kind of
noise?”
“It was a horrid sound,” said Jessie, slowly. “Like a wailing moan——”
Phrosy let forth another hair-raising shriek and began to rock herself
to and fro, hands lifted beseechingly to heaven.
“Dat’s de ghost what Ah heard! Dat’s de ghost what Ah heard?” she
chanted over and over, until Miss Alling was forced to silence her and
her voice dropped to a wailing monotone.
The girls were wildly excited and even Miss Alling looked worried.
“I don’t know what to say,” she confessed at last, regarding Jessie
seriously. “I had supposed that Phrosy’s imagination was running away
with her, but if you heard it too, Jessie——”
“It came twice,” said Jessie. “And it was after the second time that
Phrosy yelled——”
“Oh! What’s that?”
It was Nell who spoke, and the girls jumped nervously.
“Praise de Lord! Praise de Lord!”
“Phrosy, be quiet—do!” from Miss Alling. “What was it you heard, Nell?”
“It was like a whistle—soft and repeated three times.”
“Oh, that was Darry’s call,” broke in Jessie, feeling wonderfully
relieved.
“The boys have heard the commotion and have come to find out if we are
still alive,” suggested Amy, as they started toward the door, dragging
the still-trembling Phrosy with them.
Though she was sure that no one but the boys were behind that door,
Jessie waited until she heard them speak before opening it.
As their voices reached her reassuringly she flung the door wide,
beckoning them eagerly to come in.
The boys looked about them eagerly and with undisguised relief as they
realized that the girls and Miss Alling—and even black Phrosy—were alive
and well.
“You girls shouldn’t scare us like that,” complained Burd. “From the
noise, we thought a lion had been let loose among you, at least.”
“It was Phrosy who did the screaming,” said Jessie. “She thought she
heard a ghost.”
“Ah done heard dat ghost an’ Ah done see him wiv mah own eyes,” asserted
Phrosy stubbornly. “Ah done see dat ghost walkin’ down near de swamp
plain as Ah sees you all here in dis room.”
The boys started to scoff at this, but when they heard that Jessie had
heard the moaning cry down near the swamp, their incredulity changed to
wonder and, finally, to alarm.
“May be some poor fellow down there in need of help,” said Darry, and
immediately proposed that the three boys should investigate the cry.
The girls were opposed to the idea, and did not want the boys to go. But
the boys insisted and finally had their own way.
After two hours of fruitless search during which the girls sat together,
talking in low tones, Darry and his companions returned, declaring that
they had heard and seen nothing to excite the least suspicion.
“If you ask for my private opinion,” said Miss Alling, “it is that we
had all better go back to bed for the present and talk this thing over
in the morning. Shoo yourselves back to the cabin, boys, and if you hear
any more noises, don’t pay any attention to them.”
After some good-natured grumbling the boys did as she suggested. But
when, a few minutes later, the girls tried to coax Phrosy back to bed,
they found her adamant in her intention to sit up for the rest of the
night.
“Ah’s goin’ to keep dis lamp burnin’ an’ sit just where Ah is,” she
declared. “An’ in de mo’nin’ Ah’m gwine away f’om here an’ nothin’ an’
nobody ain’t nebber gwine git me back, no suh, not so long as Ah lives!”
So they left her there, perforce, and in the morning found her sitting
in the same place, the lamp burned out and her black head bobbing upon
her breast.
But everything looks more cheerful in the daylight and this seemed true
even of Phrosy’s ghosts. Between them, and using the argument that
whoever or whatever was down by the swamp had not yet attempted to harm
them, they finally persuaded Phrosy not to desert them just then.
However, her decision to stay was provisional upon the behavior of the
ghosts. The next time the “ha’nts” spoke, Phrosy left. That was certain.
The first day passed so swiftly in and about the lodge that night found
the Radio Girls unprepared—and their radio set not yet erected.
So it happened that the following morning Jessie got them all up early
and set them all to unpacking the various parts of the set while she
herself got ready for the hardest part of the work, the erecting of the
aerial.
The boys came around, humbly begging to be allowed to work, but, except
in the assembling of the parts, Jessie gently but firmly denied their
petition.
“We want to show Miss Alling that we are as good sports as she is and
really are of some use in the out-of-doors,” she said, smiling at the
chaperone, who was interestedly inspecting the various parts of the set.
“She wouldn’t believe that we erected the set at home practically by
ourselves.”
“I will believe it now when I see it done,” said Miss Alling, crisply,
but pleasantly.
“We are the greatest little demonstrators you ever saw,” murmured Amy,
handling the detector with fond care. “Watch us and learn.”
“They are altogether too sure of themselves, these girls,” said Fol, in
an injured tone. “I guess there is no room for us around here, fellows.”
“We’ll come in handy when they start to string up the aerial,” remarked
Darry, in a stage whisper. “I reckon they haven’t the least idea how
they are going to do it.”
“Trees!” said Jessie, laconically.
“Humph! Do you suppose you are going to be able to climb into a tree far
enough to fasten your aerial wire?”
Jessie squinted calmly up into the giant oak whose foliage-weighted
branches spread themselves above the lodge.
“As Amy so aptly remarked a few moments ago, watch and learn!” she said,
and Darry walked off in high dudgeon.
Burd and Fol, feeling sure that the girls’ resolution would weaken as
they watched Barry’s departure, lingered expectantly for a few moments.
Then, as no requests for help were forthcoming, they followed Darry,
declaring that they intended to linger no longer in a spot where their
room was so evidently preferred to their company.
Left alone, the girls worked like beavers, setting up, assembling, and
getting ready for the hardest part of all, the erection of the aerial.
At last all the work was done that could be done upon the ground, and
the girls turned to the tree from which they intended to string their
aerial. It was a convenient distance from the house, and the wires,
reaching from the top of the tall tree to the lodge, should be able to
record messages from a considerable distance.
Miss Alling, standing at the foot of the tree, watched the ascent with
an ever-increasing interest. She was an extremely athletic person
herself, and yet she doubted if she would have had the nerve to climb to
the top of that tree, even in the service of radio. Now and then she
cheered them on with shouted words of encouragement. By the time they
were two-thirds of the way toward their goal she was fairly prancing
with excitement.
The girls, intent on their work, heard her only vaguely and saw her not
at all. As a matter of fact, they were not particularly anxious to look
down. It was easier—and safer—to look up, for something told them they
had gone a considerable distance from the ground.
Jessie, in the lead, her tool kit slung over one shoulder, climbed
laboriously into a crotch of the tree, holding tightly to the coil of
wire. With her free hand she beckoned to Amy, who, from various
scrabbling sounds, she knew to be directly beneath her.
“Shouldn’t wonder if this would do all right,” she called. “Think we are
high enough?”
“I think we are far too high,” Amy’s voice answered her. “Don’t move,
Jess. I am coming up!”
The next moment a leg was flung over the branch and Amy took her place
on the precarious perch beside Jessie. The two chums looked at each
other and laughed.
“Nell is making heavy weather of it,” remarked Amy. She moved closer to
Jessie, who was already busy with the wire. “I passed her on the way up,
and she was wedged tight between two branches. She said there was one
good thing about it, anyway. There was no possible danger of her
falling. But I could tell by her face that she wasn’t exactly enjoying
herself. Now what first, Jess?”
“Help me fasten this thing,” returned Jessie. “I have to hold on with
one hand which leaves me only one to work with and I have need of at
least six.”
“I suppose my one wouldn’t do you any good then,” said Amy, giggling.
“But such as it is it is at your service.”
At that moment Nell called to them, and they looked around to find her
peering at them from below.
“Any room on that perch?” she asked. “Looks kind of precarious to me.”
“Climb up on the other side, can’t you?” suggested Jessie. “You will do
more good there. And, Nell dear, please hurry. We need an extra hand
badly.”
At last it was done. One end of the wire was fastened neatly and
securely to the tree while the other dangled earthward, ready for
attachment to the roof of the lodge.
They started downward cautiously, aware that the descent was more
difficult and perilous than the upward climb. Slipping, scrambling,
clinging when the footing failed them, inch by inch, foot by foot, they
made their way downward.
Suddenly something happened. Jessie cried out sharply. Her foot had
slipped. Her hand, flung frantically out, grasped nothing. A sea of
green leaves and waving branches flew up to meet her. She struck upon
something heavily, clutched it, hung there gasping, eyes closed——