LILY’S WELCOME
It was the end of the first week in August. Marjorie had just returned
from taking Mae Van Horn to the station in Lily’s car, and now she was
waiting for the time to arrive when she might go to meet Lily herself.
She was, as usual, happy over the prospect of seeing her chum again.
“I’ve never seen you so excited over seeing John Hadley as you are over
meeting Lily,” remarked Ethel, who was sitting on the porch with
Marjorie. “I wish you showed as much love for me!”
“Why, Ethel—” began her room-mate, reproachfully.
The other girl laughed good-naturedly.
“But you seem anxious to get rid of me—to make me take a vacation—”
“That’s because I think you need it!”
“But you need one yourself!”
“You know I can’t go, Ethel, till I help the boys clear up this
mystery.”
“Sometimes” remarked her companion, “I think it would be just as wise
not to bother. We have only three weeks more—we’re out of debt now—and
everything we make is clear profit. Why not let well enough alone?”
“Oh, Ethel, I couldn’t do it! My curiosity has the best of me. Besides,
I have a new scheme up my sleeve!”
“A new scheme? What?” demanded Ethel. It seemed as if Marjorie’s brain
were never idle.
“Why, we have done so well this summer in establishing a business, that
I think we could ‘sell out.’ We have proved that the thing pays, so
perhaps some ambitious woman might buy our trade and our equipment, if
we advertise.”
“Good gracious, Marj! That’s a splendid idea! It ought to net us quite a
comfortable little sum!”
“That’s what I think. But don’t you see that it would be wrong—almost
dishonest—to sell a business with such a shadow hanging over it? Suppose
something dreadful were to happen—wouldn’t you feel responsible?”
“Yes, I suppose I would,” Ethel admitted.
“So you see how necessary it is for us to clear the name,” explained
Marjorie. “And therefore I can’t very well take a vacation. But you
must—for a week, at least!”
“Well, then, I will. Come on—isn’t it time to go to meet Lily?”
“I guess it is,” replied Marjorie, consulting her watch.
The girls reached the station just as the train pulled in. Marjorie was
thankful to see it on time; she hated waiting, particularly when she had
so much to tell Lily.
“Aren’t you crazy to drive your car again?” asked Marjorie, when the
three girls were in the roadster, with the former still at the wheel.
“Yes, but you may drive,” replied Lily. “Provided you don’t get
arrested.”
“I’ll try not to,” laughed Marjorie. “Now—tell us all the news!”
“No, you tell me first! I’m terribly excited about the ghost at the
tea-house. Of course I got your letter, describing your night there. Has
anything happened since?”
“No, we haven’t done anything. But we are laying the plot for Saturday
night.”
“Oh, Marj, you aren’t going to stay there again—all night!” gasped Lily,
with a shudder at the very idea of the thing.
“Yes, I am, too!”
“And are you, too, Ethel?”
“No; I’ve just promised Marj to take a week’s holiday, so I’ll miss out
this time.”
“Then who is going to stay there with you?” demanded Lily.
A naughty twinkle came into Marjorie’s eyes.
“I am counting on you, Lily!”
“Oh, no, Marj! Oh, I just couldn’t! I wouldn’t be one bit of use! I—”
“You’re very brave, Lily!” teased her chum.
“Well, I will if you want me to!” she sighed, meekly.
“No, Lil dear, I don’t want you to,” Marjorie reassured her. “In fact, I
don’t want any girl to! I’m going to make use of my brother—and perhaps
some of the other boys. But don’t say a word about that part of the
scheme. It’s a dead secret.”
“All right,” agreed Lily. “I really do feel relieved, though.”
They talked of other things for a while—Lily’s trip; her visit to Mrs.
Trawle, whose health was still improving; the picnic; and the outlook
for the tea-house. Lily said that her father felt immensely proud of the
scouts for being able to repay that loan so quickly.
“He said you were such a capable little business woman, Marj, that it
would be pity for you to get married,” she added.
“I’m not thinking of getting married,” replied Marjorie. “In fact, the
only time I do think of it is when you mention it.”
“No, Marj has stuck pretty closely to business this summer, I will say
that for her,” remarked Ethel. “Of course she sees John every day or so,
but it’s all very matter-of-fact.”
When the girls reached home, Lily found a cordial reception awaiting
her. Mrs. Munsen and Mrs. Hadley had offered to go down to the tea-house
during the supper hour so that the scouts might have the meal together.
“Lily,” said Alice, after they were seated at the table, “I know you
like parties, so, if you and Marj are willing, I want to arrange one for
Friday night.”
“Yes, I love parties,” replied Lily, enthusiastically. She was thinking
of the house-warming in the beginning of the summer, and of the picnic
supper she had just missed.
“Well, this one would be a little out of the ordinary, but everybody
likes the idea—except Marie Louise. And I think we can win her over!”
“Oh, we can’t possibly have a party that Marie Louise doesn’t approve
of,” objected Marjorie. “Why, this is her house—”
“But it isn’t to be held here,” said Alice. “We thought of using the
tea-house!”
“Yes! Yes!” cried Marjorie, her eyes sparkling with delight at the
prospect of something adventurous.
“Not after that warning!” protested Lily in horror.
“I guess if Marj can plan to spend another night there—practically
alone,” said Alice, “we could afford to take a chance in a crowd.
Besides we might make some discoveries.”
“Tell us your idea, Alice!” urged Marjorie.
“Well, I’d like for us all to go down to the tea-house after supper
Friday night—with Mrs. Hadley and Mrs. Munsen, but not any of the
boys—and invite that medium that Marie Louise and I consulted, and try
some table-moving and spirit-rapping stuff. She ought to be able to tell
whether it is all a fake. And then, if nothing happens, we can end up
just like an ordinary party, with ice-cream and cake.”
“What fun!” cried Florence, in delight. “I think that’s a great idea,
Alice.”
“But can you get the medium?” asked Ethel.
“Yes, I’m sure we can, if we pay her enough. And we can all put
together.—What do you, say Marj?”
“I’m game!” replied the latter, instantly.
Accordingly, Alice went ahead with her arrangements as soon as she was
able to win Marie Louise and Mrs. Munsen to agreement. She was sorry to
have Ethel miss the party by leaving the day before for her vacation,
but fortunately Daisy Gravers arrived to take her place. The time was
set for half-past eight on Friday evening.
The girls managed to close the tea-room rather early that night, but
encountered severe opposition in attempting to chase the boys away.
“Please let us stay—if we have to hide somewhere!” begged Jack.
“No,” replied Marjorie, firmly. “And don’t think that because you won
out at the picnic supper that you will again. I’m not going to relent.”
“But if nobody knew that we were there”—pleaded Jack.
“No! Your turn’s coming tomorrow night! Be satisfied with that!”
“Do you want my revolver, then, Sis?” asked Jack, giving up in despair.
“Yes, I would like to have it,” replied Marjorie. “Because if we hear
anything from the cellar, I’m going to lead a party down to
investigate.”
“Do be careful, Marjorie!” warned John.
“And don’t solve the whole mystery, so that there’s nothing left for us
fellows to do tomorrow night,” added Jack.
“Don’t worry!” laughed his sister.
The rest of the girls arrived at the tea-house about eight o’clock, and
the medium came soon after. One of the larger tea-tables had been moved
into the rest-room for the use of the party and the young people
gathered about it.
“Must we turn the lights down low?” asked Marjorie, respectfully, as if
she had full faith in the proceeding.
The medium shook her head.
“Not necessarily,” she replied. “It is more important that everyone be
in sympathy.”
The girls laid their hands upon the table as the woman directed, their
finger-tips barely resting on its surface. They sat perfectly quiet for
nearly ten minutes; no one broke the spell by so much as a smile. Then
the medium passed one hand lightly across her forehead, saying:
“I am getting in touch with the spirit world. When the table begins to
move, you may ask questions. The table’s moving up and down three times
will signify ‘yes’; once, ‘no.’ Do not ask your questions too quickly
after the table first moves; give me time to establish perfect
communication.”
Marjorie, who sat across the table from the medium, kept her gaze fixed
intently upon the woman’s face. She, for one, was not in sympathy with
her, and was watching closely for some evidence of quackery.
For some moments more they waited patiently. At last they were rewarded
by a faint rocking of the table. The motion was repeated several times,
and then Marjorie spoke.
“Are we wrong to be here tonight?” she asked.
Before there was any answering movement from the table, the sound of
three distinct knocks was heard. Instantly the girls became alert,
tense, apprehensive; and Marjorie, whose gaze had never left the
medium’s face, saw her start violently and open her eyes for an instant.
“One knock for ‘No,’ three for ‘yes’”; announced the medium, in a solemn
tone.
Marjorie continued the questioning. She was anxious to find out whence
the sound was coming. From all indications, she believed its source to
be the cellar.
“Will it be dangerous for the girls to sleep here tomorrow night?”
Again, to their terrified ears, came three distinct rappings. More than
one of the scouts gasped in fear, and Marie Louise began to sob quietly.
“Is this house haunted?”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Two or three other questions, whose answers threw the girls into greater
terror, only made Marjorie more suspicious, more eager to investigate
the whole matter. The medium shivered slightly, looked about her in a
dazed fashion, and leaned limply back in her chair.
In the lull that followed an idea occurred to Marjorie, and she startled
the others by the matter-of-fact tone in which she made a request. But
in making it, she knew that her request was a reasonable one; for she
had read and heard a great deal of the professed power of mediums, and
thought that, if this one were not a fake, she should consent to it.
“Would you be kind enough,” she asked, addressing the medium, “to let me
write the questions, instead of asking them out loud?”
The woman hesitated a moment.
“It is a very unusual demand,” she replied, “but I will try it, if you
wish. What is it you want to ask?”
Marjorie produced a pencil and a piece of paper from her pocket, wrote
something, folded the paper several times with the writing inside, and
placed it upon the center of the table.
“Of course,” continued the girl, “it will not be necessary for you to
look at what I have written, since the spirit with whom you communicate
will know what it says.”
Several of the girls gasped at her audacity.
Again the medium hesitated.
“Very well,” she replied; and closed her eyes.
They waited while communication was being reestablished, listening
intently for an answer. This time, however, instead of the distinct
knocks from the direction of the cellar, it was the table which rocked
three times, denoting the affirmative.
Marjorie’s face wore a look of triumph. She reached forward hastily,
picked up the question she had written, and thrust it into her pocket.
The medium opened her eyes suddenly, and pushed back her chair.
“That is all I can do tonight,” she said, rising. “But I hope I have
answered your questions satisfactorily,” she added, darting a look at
Marjorie.
No sooner was she gone than Marjorie jumped to her feet in wildest
excitement.
“She’s a fake, girls, of course,” she cried. “But those other knocks—not
the table-tippings—are from an entirely different source, I’m sure, oh,
I’m positive, there was somebody down the cellar listening and answering
the questions. The woman was surprised herself. Didn’t you notice the
difference in the reply when I wrote the question? Come on! Everybody!
Come on down!”
“Oh, no!” pleaded Mrs. Munsen. “Don’t take a chance, Marjorie!”
“Yes! Yes! I must! Who’s coming?”
She rushed madly to the cellar-door, with Lily at her heels; and
Florence, Alice and Daisy followed. A moment later she opened the door
and turned her flash-light into the darkness.
The cellar was absolutely empty!
“There! Listen! What’s that noise?—that rattle?” she demanded, as they
descended the steps.
“The spirit saying farewell,” suggested Alice, half in earnest.
But Marjorie stored the impression away in her brain, deciding to
account for it later.
Bravely, but with the revolver in full evidence, they searched every
corner of the cellar, and, finding nothing, returned to the rest-room
where refreshments were hastily being served. The whole party seemed
anxious to get away.
“You surely won’t go on with your plan for tomorrow night?” asked Mrs.
Munsen of Marjorie.
“I surely will!” replied the girl, determinedly. “And I think I am going
to find out something!”
She had come to the conclusion that the rattle she had heard as she
entered the cellarway was the result of the closing of the outside
cellar-door—and the agency a human hand!
“And the question you asked—the one you wrote on the paper?” inquired
Lily. “What was it?”
Marjorie smilingly drew the paper from her pocket, and, unfolding it,
handed it to the other.
“Don’t forget the table answered it as ‘yes,’” she reminded her.
Lily gazed at it in amazement, and read out loud:
“Are you trying to fake us?”