A GHOST IN THE FLESH
After the excitement of the previous night, Marjorie found it
exceedingly difficult to keep her attention upon the routine duties of
the tea-room. The day seemed endless; but the promise of the coming
adventure buoyed up her spirits and kept her from becoming too
impatient.
At last, however, the guests had all left the tea-house and the place
was deserted; Eugene Schofield and Pierce Ellison closed and locked the
doors and the girls went home. There were only two hours to wait now
until Marjorie should return to spend the night at the haunted spot. She
resolved, if possible, to pass them in sleep.
Shortly after ten o’clock, she was awakened by a knocking at her door.
“Come in!” she called; and Daisy entered the room.
“The boys are here!” she announced. “Wake up, Marj!”
Marjorie sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
“Don’t say _boys_,” she cautioned. “I’ve got to accustom my mind to the
fact that they are girls—for tonight.”
“But John is dressed as a boy!” laughed Daisy.
“Oh, of course he is! I forgot! But how about Jack?”
“He’s too funny for words! He’s down stairs in the living-room smoking a
cigarette and practicing walking like a girl. He has an idea he has to
make his skirt switch, like the flappers.”
“Does he look like a girl?”
“He’s perfect! He has on Ethel’s uniform, and it fits beautifully. Ethel
does have broad shoulders, you know; and they are both about the same
height. It’s lucky you thought to have him wear the uniform; the
fullness of the middy hides his form.”
Marjorie was dressing while she listened to Daisy’s description. When
she reached for her pumps, she stopped short in dismay.
“What about his feet?”
“Oh, they’re fine!” laughed Daisy. “I noticed that right away. Jack has
small feet for a boy, you know—”
“I never noticed,” interrupted his sister.
“Now imagine never having noticed whether your own brother had large
feet or small ones! You’re a funny girl, Marj! Well, he managed to
squeeze into Ethel’s brown sport-shoes. He looked ridiculous when he
wanted a match to light his cigarette; he hitched up his skirt to get at
his trousers-pockets—he has his trousers rolled up above his knee.”
Marjorie chuckled as she gave the finishing pats to her hair.
“Now I’m ready,” she announced. “What time is it?”
“Ten-fifteen,” replied Daisy, consulting her wristwatch. Then, throwing
her arms impulsively about Marjorie, “Oh, I wish you weren’t going,
Marj! Promise me nothing will happen to you!”
“There! there! Don’t worry, Daisy!” she said patting the girl’s
shoulder. “You know nothing will happen to me with John and Jack along.”
“No, I hope not. I have great confidence in those two boys.”
“Now let’s go downstairs; the boys will be getting impatient.”
Marjorie paused on the stairway and looked around for Jack. Several
other girls had on scout uniforms, so she did not identify him
immediately. Then she saw a strange girl whom she recognized, upon
closer inspection, to be Jack; and she burst out laughing.
“How do I look?” cried the masquerader, pirouetting in the middle of the
room. “Hadn’t you better come powder my nose, Sis?”
“You’re splendid! You had me guessing for a moment. Your wig is great!
Who fixed you up?”
“Lily. She’s a dandy lady’s maid.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what, Lily wouldn’t,” said his sister. “You must
pull your tie tighter, and hide your neck. Girls don’t have necks like
that. And Jack, couldn’t you swallow your Adam’s-apple?”
“Oh, I know I’m a scare-crow,” laughed Jack, good-naturedly. “But if the
fellow we’re after gets close enough to see all those things, I’ll let
him know in another way that I’m not a girl!”
“You’ll do, Jack,” commented Mrs. Hadley, who had driven over with the
boys. “If you just stop trying to put your hands into your pockets!”
“I hope you’ve re-read _Tom Sawyer_ lately,” remarked Alice, “and don’t
make any of those blunders he did when he was trying to pass off for a
girl.”
The young people all laughed as they recalled the situation;
notwithstanding the mystery and possible danger of the occasion, the
whole thing struck them as decidedly funny.
Mrs. Munsen, however, looked exceedingly grave as she kissed Marjorie
goodbye.
“I shall be thankful when I see you safely home in the morning,” she
said. “Do come as early as possible.”
“We probably shall,” laughed Marjorie. “I am taking a key this time, so
that if anything happens in the middle of the night I needn’t disturb
you.”
She sat in the back of the car between Mrs. Hadley and Jack, while Dick
Roberts, who was to share with John in the adventure, took the seat up
front.
“From now on,” announced Marjorie, “we’re acting. Not a single word of
the real situation must be mentioned.”
“Agreed!” replied John. “And you want to go in boldly—letting them know
you are there?”
“Absolutely!” said the girl.
“And don’t forget to call me _Ethel_,” warned Jack.
The night was clear and still; the stars were shining, but there was no
moon. The boys were glad of this; it would be easier for John and Dick
to conceal themselves in the darkness.
“Well, here we are!” said John, as he turned into the drive. “Shall I
stop right here at the steps?”
“I wish,” said Marjorie as she descended from the machine, “that you
would go all around the outside of the place and listen. Of course, we
have Jack’s revolver, but still, I’d feel a little safer to know that
there is no _human_-being about.”
“Hadn’t you girls better change your minds, and let me sleep
downstairs?” suggested John, in a clearly audible tone.
“No, indeed!” replied Marjorie. “It’s evident the ghost has a hatred of
men, because he never shows himself when they’re around.”
“Displays a lot of good taste,” remarked John, “in his preference for
the ladies. Now—you and mother and Ethel wait here on the porch till I
come back! I don’t want you entering that empty house alone!”
“But we aren’t a bit afraid!” protested Marjorie. “Ethel and I both have
our revolvers.”
Taking his own out from his hip pocket, John started around to the rear
of the house, thinking all the while of the previous night at the
tea-house, when he and Jack had searched so cautiously for the cause of
the sounds that must have been imaginary, or produced by the storm. As
before, he found nothing. Nevertheless, his time was not wasted; for he
decided upon his own and Dick’s place of hiding for the night. After
Marjorie’s two experiences with voices, which seemed both times to come
from the cellar confirming what Anna had said of her own experience
early in the summer—John was convinced that whatever it was that
threatened the girls, it actually did originate there. But each time, he
remembered, upon exploration Marjorie had found the cellar empty. It was
only logical to conclude, therefore, that the tormentor had some method
of escape.
Now upon his previous examination, John had come to the conclusion that
there was only one plausible escape to the outside—for the windows were
too high and too small to be of any use—and that place was the outside
slanting cellar-door, which he had first thought of as an exit on the
night he and the other boys spent at the tea-house.
Not far from this door, but on the opposite side of the fence dividing
the Scott property from the one next door would be a good hiding-place.
A dense honey-suckle vine covered the fence and hung over in profusion;
and John noticed that there were two places where he and Dick could
easily conceal themselves.
He was glad now that they had refused to allow the other boys to take
part in the adventure, much as they had wished to. Someone would have
been sure to talk, or make a noise, and thus defeat their own purpose;
but he felt he could rely upon Jack and Dick Roberts.
When he returned to the porch, he found the women talking volubly.
Marjorie seemed to have so much to say that there was scarcely
opportunity for Mrs. Hadley to put in a word. “Ethel” remained
discreetly silent.
“Any ghosts?” asked Marjorie.
“Not a sign!” replied John. “Everything’s very quiet.”
“I guess they won’t be along till after midnight,” remarked Marjorie,
lightly. “Well, come on in—we want you people to go home and get some
sleep. Ethel is yawning her head off!”
“Yes, I haven’t heard her say a word since we’ve been on the porch,” put
in Mrs. Hadley, anxious to play her part in the little comedy, which she
bravely hoped would not turn out to be a tragedy.
Marjorie unlocked the door and they entered and turned on the lights.
They found everything as usual, just as the boys had left it upon
locking up for the evening.
“If only you had a telephone!” sighed Mrs. Hadley. “It would make
matters so much easier.”
“Yes,” agreed Marjorie; “but you know the company offered so many
objections that we decided not to bother just for the summer. But do you
know, I often think that if we had one right here, we might never have
had all this opposition!”
“Unless the house really is haunted,” remarked Mrs. Hadley.
The suggestion of a telephone, however, was a new one to John, and he
resolved to make use of it immediately. On his way past the house next
door, as he drove his mother home that night, he stopped and explained
what was going on at the tea-house, and told where he and Dick expected
to hide.
“And if somebody—probably a girl—comes over to use your telephone to get
the police, will you let her in?”
“Certainly,” replied the neighbor, courteously.
In the meantime Marjorie and Jack went up to their cots without the
slightest idea of going to sleep. Both were much too excited to consider
such a thing; Marjorie’s nap had entirely refreshed her, and Jack’s
weariness was merely feigned.
“Do you honestly think anything will happen?” asked Marjorie, as she sat
down upon one of the army cots.
“I really don’t think so,” whispered Jack. “It’s not my luck. There’s
never anything but false alarms when I’m around.”
“But you’re Ethel now,” she muttered, between her teeth. Then, aloud:
“But come, Ethel, you’re dreadfully sleepy, I mustn’t keep you awake.
Spread out your blanket!”
Jack placed both blankets upon the couches, and fussing inarticulately
about his hair, stretched himself out at full length. But they found
that they could not go to sleep; they continued to toss about for nearly
an hour, even though there were no sounds to disturb them. Then Jack
grew exasperated.
“I’m dying for a smoke, Sis!” he whispered. “Do you suppose—?”
“No! No!” protested Marjorie. “Ethel doesn’t—no Girl Scouts do!”
“Well, I wish she did!” growled the boy, lying down again.
And yet in spite of his impatience Jack fell asleep before Marjorie.
Long after he was breathing regularly she was listening for the noises
outside the tea-house, wondering whether John and Dick were safely in
their hiding-place, and above all, keeping her ear alert for the cellar.
Once or twice she thought she heard someone in the yard or back by the
stable, and she even sat up to listen. But each time she decided it was
nobody—unless perhaps it might be one of the watchers, creeping to his
place of concealment in the honey-suckle. At last, she too dozed off,
and slept through the small hours.
As in her previous experience, Marjorie was awakened just before dawn by
a repetition of the same continued, regular knocking which she had heard
twice before. Instantly she sat up in bed; but this time it was joy
rather than fear that took possession of her. She was so excited that
she almost called her sleeping companion by his right name. She just
recovered herself in time.
“Ethel! Ethel!” she cried, taking hold of Jack’s arm, and shaking him as
violently as she could. “The ghost!”
Her brother came sharply back to consciousness.
“Yes! Yes! What is it, Marj?” he whispered, sitting up immediately.
To his fascinated ears came the welcome sound he had so often heard
described:
RAP! RAP! RAP!
Marjorie was almost breathless in the intensity of her excitement.
“It’s coming from the cellar! Hear it?” she demanded.
Jack nodded silently.
The knocking came again.
“Decidedly!” he remarked. “Now for the signal!”
“You mean—” Both brother and sister were standing upright now, and
waiting.
“I arranged with John that I would blow this if we heard anything,”
replied Jack, taking a scout whistle from his pocket. “That will waken
him if he is asleep; and he and Dick will rush to the cellar-door—to
catch the fellow as he comes out!”
“Wonderful!” cried Marjorie. “But wait till we get downstairs—I don’t
want to miss the fun!”
“No, we can’t,” answered Jack. “He might get away—like he did when you
girls got to the cellar steps!”
Without another moment’s hesitation, Jack blew the whistle out the
window; and then, picking up his skirts, flew down the stairs three at a
time, with Marjorie close behind. They reached the back door and threw
it open just in time to see a figure start to raise the cellar-door when
John, with a flying leap, landed upon it with both feet and sent it
crashing shut again.
“Hurray!” yelled Jack. “We’ve got ’im! Some team-work!”
John sized up the situation quickly.
“Dick, you keep your eye on that inside cellar-door! He won’t get out
those small windows, so this is the only other place. Jack, you watch
this door; but stand clear of it—he might take it into his head to shoot
through the door.
“Marjorie, I’ve changed my mind about having you telephone; if there are
any accomplices hidden around, as Dick and I were, they might stop you.
You’re much safer here with Jack and Dick. Now I’ll run along and do the
telephoning myself; the people know me. I won’t be long.”
And he dashed out of the yard and up the road at top speed.