A CAPTURE BY RADIO
It took the others a moment or two to grasp the meaning of Jessie’s
suggestion. The idea was too new to them.
Then Burd leaned over and shook her hand warmly.
“We come, brother,” he said gravely. “That idea is worthy even of my
gigantic brain. When do we begin and where?”
“To-morrow at the forest ranger station,” replied Jessie, her eyes
dancing. “We can broadcast the description of the criminals and the
location of the hut—or rather, the rangers can.”
“By George, that is one great idea!” broke in Darry, admiringly. “Funny
I never thought of radio in that connection.”
“You certainly do take the cake, Jess darling,” said Amy, generously, if
slangily. “I would do a lot for a mind like that!”
The party broke up soon after that, for aching muscles required their
due and the monotonous dripping of the rain made them all very sleepy.
In the morning they woke refreshed to find the sun shining gloriously on
leaves and branches that still dripped moisture. Fatigue had
miraculously disappeared and there remained only the pathetically
blackened trunks of trees to remind them of the tragic happenings of the
day before.
They breakfasted early, eager to enlist the help of the forest rangers
as soon as possible in the matter of the mysterious hut in the swamp.
It was impossible for Burd to go, as his ankle was still swollen and
very painful, so Amy volunteered to stay behind and read to the invalid.
This suggestion was not wholly disinterested on her part, for Amy was
still more lame than she cared to admit from the exertions of the day
before.
The four young folks started off briskly, spurred on by a recognized
need of haste but vaguely saddened by the signs of ruin and destruction
that had followed in the wake of the fire.
Nearing the ranger station, Jessie and Darry found that they had gone
too fast for Nell and Fol, and lingered to allow the other two to catch
up to them.
It was while they were seated on a huge boulder idly talking over the
events of the day before that Jessie voiced the thought uppermost in her
mind.
“Darry, I have been wondering what you did about that poor girl, Link
Mullen’s sister,” she said, a little hesitantly. “You never told us, you
know.”
“Probably that is because I have not been able to do anything,” returned
Darry. “Eileen Mullen is stubborn and she has enormous pride. She
positively refuses to return to Link. She declares that when she left
home after their quarrel she intended never to go back.”
“I do wish we could help her,” said Jessie, longingly, but as Nell and
Fol reappeared at that moment, no more was said upon the subject.
“We have nearly come to the house in the woods where they hung out the
wash in the living room,” Nell called, and Darry nodded.
“I intend to keep my eyes open,” he assured her.
But when they came to it the house appeared as dreary and deserted as
though no one had lived there for years and the room in which the sheets
had been hung was protected from critical inspection by tightly-drawn
shades.
At the ranger station Mr. Halsey met them and listened with keen
interest to their story of Darry’s misadventure in the swamp and of the
people who inhabited the hut. They told him also of the ghostlike noises
from the swamp and of the white figures they had seen flitting among the
trees.
When Jessie explained their idea of soliciting the aid of the police by
radio, he agreed to have the message sent out over the airways
immediately.
“I wish we might have known of this before,” he said, gravely, as he
accompanied them to the broadcasting room. “We have suspected for a long
time that something illicit and mysterious was being carried on in this
vicinity, but there has never been anything definite upon which to base
our suspicions. We will investigate this matter thoroughly now, I can
assure you.”
Messages were sent out for miles in all directions and, satisfied that
they had done all in their power to further the ends of justice, the
girls and boys said good-bye to Mr. Halsey, after thanking him, and
started back toward the lodge.
Once more they passed the house in the woods, and this time Darry saw,
or thought he saw, a face at one of the upper windows.
“That is what I call exasperating!” he exclaimed, as they continued on
through the woods. “Another moment, and I could have sworn to that
fellow’s identity.”
“If we knew what you were talking about we might follow you more
intelligently,” suggested Fol, and Darry explained.
“That fellow at the window looked a lot like one of the men at the hut,”
he said. “I am pretty positive now that my guess as to where Phrosy’s
ghosts came from is correct.”
Upon reaching the lodge they found the three stay-at-homes looking the
pictures of peace and contentment, and immediately set about trying to
spoil things for them, as Amy languidly complained.
Having packed all their belongings the day before, it was necessary to
reverse the process now that the safety of the lodge was assured. This
occupied much of the afternoon, and as the shadows became longer they
were oppressed by a strange uneasiness. In every rustle of a leaf, in
every cracking of a twig outside the lodge, it seemed they could detect
the furtive approach of some of the motley crowd who made their home in
the swamp. The air seemed to be murmurous with whispers, the sighing of
the wind through the trees took on a weird and wailing sound as though
uneasy spirits roamed the woods.
“If radio doesn’t get in some fine work pretty soon,” grumbled Amy, “I
can see where our last few days here are going to be spoiled. I can see
a ghost in every shadow.”
As though to bear out her assertion there came from the direction of the
swamp a faint wailing, growing steadily louder in volume—rising to a
shriek and dying off into a frantic sobbing sound.
Again and again it came, and the girls crowded into the living room as
though for mutual protection and stared at each other in growing
perturbation.
At that moment Darry and Fol burst into the room with Burd limping
manfully after them. Behind them came three men, who, despite the fact
that they wore no uniform, bore the unmistakable stamp of police
officers.
“We are just in time for the entertainment, I see,” said the tallest of
the three, with a grimness of tone that fell reassuringly upon the
electric tension in the room. “These hut dwellers have decided to give a
special demonstration for our benefit, evidently.”
The three men, led by Aunt Emma, marched into the room recently occupied
by Phrosy, and the boys lingered behind for a word with the surprised
and excited girls.
“We bumped into these officers just as we were coming in,” said Burd.
“They received the radio message and have men planted down by the swamp
ready to close in on the hut when they give the signal. Come along, if
you want to be in on the big show.”
“But, Burd, your foot! How can you go?” protested Amy, and Burd looked
down at the injured member contemptuously.
“You don’t suppose I would let a little thing like that keep me at home,
do you?” he queried. “Just watch me.”
At that moment the three officers stalked out again, Aunt Emma, flushed
and excited, at their heels. They seemed in a great hurry. They rushed
out of the lodge, the girls and boys after them.
Down toward the swamp they ran, the continued wailings of the “ghosts”
drowning the sound of their footsteps. Only a few feet from the swamp
now, and those absurd white figures still flitting eerily among the
trees.
The shrill note of a whistle sounded, followed by the answering shout of
men, who came dashing from the shadows.
The shrouded white figures stood still for a moment as though frozen
into immobility. Then shrieks and shouts rent the air. The ghosts turned
to fly—and were surrounded.
Several of them, dropping the sheets that swathed them, ran for cover,
away from the police. But the boys were too quick for them. Darting from
their hidden vantage point among the trees, they waylaid the rascals and
engaged them in lusty warfare. Back and forth they lunged, fighting
desperately, while the girls watched with fascinated interest.
Suddenly Jessie clutched Amy’s arm and pointed through the trees.
“Over there!” she cried. “Do you see what I see?”
“Those are women—trying to get away! Come on!” cried Amy.
Without stopping to think, the girls started in pursuit of the two
creatures slinking off through the trees. The women, hampered by their
clinging skirts, could not run swiftly, and it was comparatively easy
for the three athletic girls to overtake them.
Jessie and Amy blocked the path in front while Nell encircled them to
the right, cutting off escape in that direction.
The women took a step or two backward, showing their teeth like cornered
rats. Then, turning to the one avenue of escape left to them, they
crouched low and started to run.
“Stop them! Stop them!” cried Jessie, and at that moment a shadow
detached itself from the deeper shadows of the forest and grasped the
two women roughly.
“Thought you would get away, eh?” growled a voice which the girls
recognized as belonging to the tallest of the three officers who had
come to the lodge. “You would, too, if it had not been for these brave
young ladies here. You think you’re a slick pair, but you didn’t get
away with it. Come along now. I guess we’ve got the whole works.”
The girls returned in triumph, bearing their prisoners in tow, the
grinning officer close at hand. When the boys saw them, they were
greeted with loud shouts of delighted surprise.
“We got our men, too,” Burd told them boisterously, after the officer
had taken the women away. “No more ghosts for ours, girls! We have laid
’em for good!”
“And in more senses than one,” added Darry, with a grin.
“Come on over and see this bunch of lowbrows,” said Fol, pointing to the
group of captors and captives. The latter were still filling the air
with shrieks and giving the officers a most unpleasant time of it.
Curiously, the girls and lads approached—but not too closely. An officer
detached himself from the group and came toward them. It was the tall
man whom they had already met twice that night. He smiled jubilantly
upon them.
“One of those prisoners is Pietro Pebbo,” he informed them. “He is one
of the slickest counterfeiters and law breakers the police have known
for many a year, and he has gathered about him a choice set of
scoundrels. I would like to ask one question,” he added, adjusting his
pocket torch so that it illumined their faces. “Who is responsible for
that radio message?”
Darry took Jessie by the hand and drew her forward.
“The idea was the property of this young lady,” he said gravely. “Allow
me to introduce Miss Jessie Norwood!”
“The service thanks you, Miss Norwood,” he said, bowing gallantly in
acknowledgment of the introduction. “We all thank you.”
“Except Pietro Pebbo!” murmured Amy, the irrepressible.
It was the day after the sensational capture of the “ghosts” down by the
swamp, and the girls and boys were enjoying a period of well-earned
leisure. Besides, having scarcely slept the night before, they really
needed rest.
It was Aunt Emma who broke into their peaceful content by rising
suddenly and starting toward the house.
“What troubles you, my dear aunt?” inquired Burd, lazily. “I can see by
the look in your eye that there is something on your mind.”
“I am going to write to Phrosy,” returned Aunt Emma, briskly. “Now that
the ghosts have departed, it is high time she came back to the kitchen.”
“Oh, won’t we have a lovely time with Phrosy and no ghosts?” sighed
Nell, looking out toward the placid waters of Lake Towako. “Lucky the
fire spared our wonderful view. Where are you going, Jess?”
Jessie, on the way to the lodge, looked over her shoulder with a smile.
“I just happened to think that we haven’t set up our radio yet. I am
going to hear a radio concert before I am very much older or know the
reason why.”
Amy rose protestingly from the grassy couch that seemed just made for
laziness.
“That child will be the death of me, yet. She is a very glutton for
work.”
“Just the same,” said Nell, as she prepared to join them, “it will be
mighty good to ‘listen in’ again.”
THE END