CHAPTER I.

“_Look! Look!” he cried. “That’s what I was wantin’ to find._”

(_Page 101_) (_The Phantom Yacht_)

THE

PHANTOM YACHT

_By_ CAROL NORTON

Author of

“Bobs, A Girl Detective,” “The Seven Sleuths’ Club,” etc.

A. L. BURT COMPANY

Publishers New York

Printed in U. S. A.

MYSTERY _and_ ADVENTURE SERIES _for_ GIRLS

12 TO 16 YEARS OF AGE

The Phantom Yacht, by Carol Norton.

Bobs, A Girl Detective, by Carol Norton.

The Seven Sleuths’ Club, by Carol Norton.

The Phantom Treasure, by Harriet Pyne Grove.

The Secret of Steeple Rocks, by Harriet Pyne Grove.

Copyright, 1928

By A. L. BURT COMPANY

CONTENTS

I. Friends Parted 3

II. Banishing Ghosts 13

III. A Lost Mother 21

IV. Seaward Bound 30

V. A New Experience 42

VI. A Light in the Dark 49

VII. The Phantom Yacht 56

VIII. What Happened 64

IX. A Mysterious Message 73

X. Sounds in the Loft 82

XI. A Querulous Old Aunt 88

XII. A Bleached Skeleton 96

XIII. Belling the Ghost 106

XIV. A Punt Ride 112

XV. A Gloomy Swamp 117

XVI. Out in the Dark 121

XVII. More Mysteries 127

XVIII. An Airplane Sighted 133

XIX. Two Boys Investigate 139

XX. One Mystery Solved 149

XXI. A channel in the Swamp 160

XXII. The Old Ruin at Midnight 170

XXIII. Letters of Importance 183

XXIV. A Surprising Revelation 193

XXV. Puzzled Again 205

XXVI. A Clue to the Old Ruin Mystery 214

XXVII. Ransacking the Old Ruin 224

XXVIII. The Best Surprise of All 239

THE PHANTOM YACHT

CHAPTER I.

FRIENDS PARTED

The face of Dories Moore was as dismal as the day was bright. It was

Indian summer and the maple trees under which she was hurrying were

joyfully arrayed in red and gold, while crimson, yellow and purple

flowers nodded at her from the gardens that she passed with unseeing

eyes. She was almost blinded with tears; her scarlet tam was awry, as

though she had put it on hurriedly, and her sweater coat, of the same

cheerful hue, was unbuttoned and flapping as she fairly ran down the

village street. In her hand was a note which had been the cause of the

tears and the haste. On it were a few penciled words:

“Dori dear, we are leaving sooner than we expected. I’m sending this to

you by little Johnnie-next-door. Do come right over and say good-bye to

someone who loves you best of all.

“Your sister-friend,

“Nann.”

At a large old colonial house at the edge of the town, just where the

meadows began, the girl turned in at a lilac-guarded gate and hurried up

the neatly graveled walk. Her eyes were again brimming with tears as she

glanced up at the curtainless windows that looked as dismal and deserted

as she felt. Hurrying up the steps, she lifted the quaintly carved old

iron knocker and shuddered as she heard the sound echoing uncannily

through the big unfurnished rooms. Her sensitive mouth quivered when she

heard the sound of running feet on bare floors and when the door was

flung open by another girl of about the same age, Dori leaped in and,

throwing her arms about her friend, she burst into tears.

“Why, Dories! Dear, dear Dori, don’t cry so hard.” There were sudden

tears in the warm brown eyes of Nann Sibbett, as for a moment she held

her friend tenderly close.

“One might think that I was going a million miles away.” She tried to

speak cheerfully. “Boston isn’t so very far from Elmwood and some day,

soon, I am sure that you will be coming to visit me.”

An April-like smile flickered tremulously on the lips of the younger girl

as she stepped back and straightened her tam. “Well, that is something to

look forward to,” she confessed. “It will be a little strip of silver

lining to as black a cloud as ever came into my life. Of course,” Dories

amended, “losing father was terrible, but I was too young to know the

loneliness of it, and being poor when we should be rich is awfully hard.

Sometimes I feel so rebellious, O, nobody knows how rebellious I feel.

But losing one’s money is nothing compared to losing one’s only friend.”

The other girl, who was taller by half a head, actually laughed. “Why,

Dories Moore, here you talk as though you would not have a single friend

left when I have moved away. There isn’t a girl at High who hasn’t been

green with envy because I have had the good fortune to be your best

friend ever since we were in kindergarten, and just as soon as I’m out of

town they’ll be swarming around you, each one aspiring to be your pal.”

There was a scornful curl on the sensitive lips of the listener. “As

though I would let anyone have your place, Nann Sibbett. Never, never,

never, not if I live to be a thousand years old.” Then with an appealing

upward glance, “But you’ll probably like some city girl heaps better than

you ever did me. I suppose you’ll forget all about me soon.”

“Silly!” Nann exclaimed brightly, giving her friend an impulsive hug.

“Don’t you remember when you were eleven and I was twelve, we had a

ceremony out in the meadow under the twin elms and we vowed, just as

solemnly as we knew how, that we would be adopted sisters and that real

born sisters could not be closer.”

Dories nodded, smiling again at the pleasant recollection. “Do you know,

Nann,” she put in, “I sort of feel that we were intended to be sisters

some way. It was such a strange coincidence that our birthdays happened

to fall on the same day, the third of September.”

“Maybe if they hadn’t,” Nann chimed in, “you and I wouldn’t have been

best friends at all, for, don’t you remember, way back in kindergarten

days, you were so shy you didn’t make friends with anyone, and when Miss

Sally wanted to find a seat for you that very first morning, she chose me

because it was our birthday. After that, since I was a year older, I felt

that I ought to look out for you just as a big sister really should.”

Dories nodded, then as she glanced into the bare library, in the wide

doorway of which they were standing, she said dismally, “O, Nann, what

good times we’ve had in this room. I can almost see now when we were very

little girls curled up on that window seat near the fireplace studying

our first primer, and on and on until last June when we were cramming for

our sophomore finals.”

“I know.” Nann looked wistfully toward the corner which Dories had

indicated. “I don’t believe we will either of us know how to study

alone.” Then, fearing that tears would come again, she caught her

friend’s hand as she exclaimed, “Dories dear, this room is too full of

ghosts of our past. Let’s go out in the garden. Dad had to go to the bank

to finish up some business, and I had to stay here to see that the last

load of furniture got off safely. It left just before you came. We’re

going to store it for a time and live in a very fine hotel in Boston.

Won’t that be a lark for a change?”

Dories spoke bitterly, “Well, for one thing I _am_ thankful, and that is

that your father didn’t lose his money the way my father did, though how

it happened I never knew and mother never told me.”

“Maybe it will all come back some time in a manner just as mysterious,”

her friend said cheerfully as she led her down the steps around the

house. Neither of the girls spoke of Nann’s dear mother, who had so

recently died, and whose passing had made life in the old house

unendurable to the daughter and her father, but they were both thinking

of her as they wandered into the garden which she had so loved. Nann

slipped an arm about her friend as she paused to look at the blossoms.

“Autumn flowers are always so bright and cheerful, aren’t they, Dori?”

She was determined to change the younger girl’s dismal trend of thought.

“That bed of scarlet salvia over by the evergreen hedge seems to be just

rejoicing about something, and the asters, of almost every color, look as

though they were dressed for a party. They’re happy, if we aren’t.”

“Stupid things!” Dories said petulantly. “They don’t know or care because

you, who have tended and watered and loved them, are going away forever

and ever.”

“Yes, they do know,” Nann said, smiling a bit tremulously, “for last

night when I came out to give them a drink, I told them all about it, but

they’re just trying to make the best of it. They know it’s as hard for me

to go away from my old home as it is for them to have me go, but they’re

trying to make it easier for me, I guess.”

Dories flashed a quick glance up at her companion. Then, impulsively,

“Oh, Nann, how selfish I always am! Of course it’s hard for you to leave

your old home and go among strangers. Here all the time I’ve just been

thinking how _hard_ it is for _me_ to have you go.” Then, making a little

bow toward the bed of radiant asters, the girl of many moods called to

them: “You’re setting a good example, you little plant folk in your

bright blossom tams. From now on I’ll be just as cheerful as ever I can.”

Smiling up at her companion, Dories exclaimed, “And all this time I’ve

had some news that I haven’t told you.” Answering verbally her friend’s

questioning look, she hurried on, “I’m going away myself for the month of

October. At least I suppose I am, and that’s one of the things that has

made me so dismally blue.” Nann stopped in the garden path which they had

been slowly circling and gazed into the pretty face of her friend, hardly

knowing whether to congratulate or condole. Instead of doing either, she

queried, “But why are you so dismal about it, Dori? I’ve often heard you

say that you did wish you could see something of the world beyond

Elmwood?”

“I know it and I still should wish it if you were going with me, but this

journey is anything but pleasant to anticipate.”

“Do tell me about it. I’m consumed with curiosity.” Nann drew her friend

to a garden seat and sat with an arm holding her close. “Now start at the

beginning. _Who_ are you going with, where and why?” The question, simple

as it seemed, brought tears with a rush to the violet-blue eyes of the

younger girl, but remembering her recent resolve, she sat up

ramrod-straight as she replied, making her mouth into as hard a line as

she could. “The one I am going with is an old crab of a great-aunt whom I

have never seen. I’m ever so sure she is a crab, although my angel mother

always smooths over that part of her nature when she’s telling me about

her. She’s rich as Crœsus, if that fabled person really was rich. I’m

never very sure about those things.”

Nann laughed. “He was! You’re safe in your comparison. But he got much of

his money by taking it away from other people with the cruel taxes he

levied.”

“Oh, well, of course my Great Aunt Jane isn’t so terribly rich,” Dories

modified, “but Mother said she had plenty for every comfort and luxury,

and what’s more, Mums _did_ agree with _me_ when I said that she must be

queer. That is, Mother said that even my father, who was Great-Aunt

Jane’s own nephew, couldn’t understand her ways.” Then, with eyes

solemn-wide, the narrator continued: “Nann Sibbett, as I’ve often told

you, I don’t understand in the least what became of our inheritance. If

Mother knows, she won’t tell, but I’m suspicious of that crabby old Aunt

Jane. I think she has it. There now, that’s what I think.”

Nann was interested and said so. “But, Dori dear, you’ve sidetracked. You

began by saying that you were going somewhere. I take it that your

Great-Aunt Jane has invited you to go somewhere with her. Is that right?”

“It is!” the other girl said glumly. “But, believe me, I don’t look

forward to the excursion with any great pleasure.” Then she hurried on.

“Think of it, Nann, that awful old lady has actually requested that I

spend the whole dismal month of October with her down on the beach at

some lonely isolated place called Siquaw Point.”

But if Dories expected sympathy, she was disappointed. “Oh, Dori!” was

the excited exclamation that she heard, “I know about Siquaw Point. An

aunt of mine went there one summer, and she just raved about the rocky

cliffs, the sand dunes and the sea. I’d love it, I know, even in the

middle of winter, and, dear, sometimes October is a beautiful month. You

may have a wonderful time.”

But Dories refused to see any hope of happiness ahead. “The Garden of

Eden would be a dismal place to me if I had to be alone in it with my

Great-Aunt Jane.”

Nann laughed, then hearing a siren calling from the front, she sprang up,

held out both hands to her friend as she exclaimed, “There’s my

chauffeur-dad waiting to bear me stationward, but, dear, I’ve thought of

one thing that will help some. To get to Siquaw Point you will have to go

through Boston. If you’ll let me know the day and the hour I’ll be at the

station to speed you on your way.”

How the younger girl’s face brightened. “Nann, darling,” she exclaimed,

“will you truly? Then that will give me a chance to see you again in just

a few weeks, maybe only two, for its nearly October now.”

“Righto!” was the cheerful reply. “There’s that siren again. I must go.

Will you come and say good-bye to Dad?”

But the other girl shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’d

rather not now. You tell him for me. I’m going home across lots. I don’t

want anyone to see how near I am to crying.” As she spoke two tears

splashed down her cheeks. Nann caught her in a close embrace. “Dear, dear

sister-friend,” she said, “I’m going to be just as lonely as you are.”

Then, stooping, she picked an aster and held it out, saying brightly,

“This golden aster wants to go with you to tell you that we’re going to

be as cheerful as we can, come what may. See you next month, Dori, sure

as sure.”

Nann turned at the corner of the house to wave, and then Dories walked

slowly across lots thinking over the conversation she had had with her

dearly loved friend. She paused a moment under the twin elms where, in

the long ago, they had vowed to be loyal as any two sisters could be.

Then, with a deep sigh, she went on to the cosy brown house under other

spreading elms that she called home.

The Phantom Yacht · 第 1 / 28 章