The next day the girls were awakened by the sun shining in at their
open windows; young calves in the near corral were calling to their
mothers and the hens in the chicken yard at the back of the house
were cheerily clucking as they busily scratched for their breakfast.
This was all so commonplace that the girls arose, laughing as they
spoke of their fears of the night before. As soon as their morning
meal had been finished, Betsy Clossen wished to visit the scene of
her recent adventure, and so all together they entered the dark,
silent front room.
There were heavy wooden blinds on all of the windows except the one
through which Babs on the night before had seen a dusky face
peering.
“Girls,” the little mistress of the Three Cross Ranch exclaimed,
“since this is to be my home, I am going to frighten away the ghost
by letting in the sunshine. Virg, will you help me unbar these
wooden blinds?”
Willing hands assisted and soon the sunshine was flooding in,
revealing the wonderful old mahogany furniture. There was dust deep
in each of the carvings, while long deserted cobwebs stretched
across corners and they, too, were dust laden.
“It is all very fine, I’ve no doubt,” Babs began, as, with arms
akimbo she looked about at her new possessions, “but I certainly do
wish that the Spanish Don to whom all this grandeur belongs would
return and claim it. I’m like Mrs. Hartley, I would just love to
have this long, big room furnished in the cozy, comfortable way to
which I am accustomed.”
“Well, I certainly would take those paintings down from the wall,”
Margaret declared with a shudder. “I would rather have any number of
ghosts than those foreign folks watching every move I made. Honest
Injun, they give me the chilly shivers staring at one the way they
do.”
Virginia laughed. “Where’s Betsy Clossen?” she suddenly inquired.
While the other girls had been busy removing the wooden blinds, that
maiden had been experimenting with her “elevator” chair. As Virg
spoke, the girls heard a gay shout and turned in time to see Betsy’s
head disappearing below the floor. They ran in that direction and
reached the spot just as the trap-door closed and snapped into
place.
Babs shook her finger at the spot as she declared: “Mysterious
chair, this is the very last day that you will operate. I’m going to
make this wonderful long room livable and I surely don’t want chairs
that will carry some unsuspecting guest down to the cellar.”
Margaret laughed merrily.
“Wouldn’t it be amusing, though, if one did have a solemn, serious
caller, a deacon or someone like that, who happened to sit on this
chair and suddenly disappear? You had better keep it, Babs, it may
come in handy.”
But the little housekeeper vigorously shook her head. “No, my mind
is made up once for all. Every bit of this foreign furniture is
going to be stored in an outhouse until the rightful owner claims
it, and I am going to Douglas when you girls return to V. M. Ranch
and buy just the things that I would enjoy having.”
“I wonder why Betsy doesn’t come back,” Margaret remarked. She had
been intently watching the trap door to see what would happen next.
The three girls knelt and called in chorus: “Betsy! Are you down
there? Why don’t you bring the elevator chair up again?” There was
no reply. Not a sound from below could they hear. The girls tried to
open the trap-door, but the contrivance that secured it was
underneath the floor.
“What if the machinery doesn’t work?” Margaret said, looking up in
sudden dismay, “Betsy might smother down there.”
“Who is talking about me?” a merry voice called. The astonished
girls sprang to their feet and whirled around. There was the
laughing Betsy standing back of them.
The other three crowded about. “Did you make any new discoveries?
Tell us what happened!”
“Well, when I reached the cellar,” Betsy began, “I hunted about to
find the other knob, the one that would lift me again to this room,
but lo and behold, it appeared to have lost its magic. I pulled on
it and pushed, but the chair did not move. I could hear you calling
to me, although your voices sounded faint and far. I replied but I
was sure that you could not hear. Then I sat for a few moments
thinking what I ought to do next. Of course I knew that you would
soon call for help if I did not return and that Peyton would break
open the trap. When my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, I
thought I saw a door at the far side of the room. Groping my way
toward it, I found that it opened easily. Just beyond was a spiral
stairway which I ascended. At the top was another door, but it was
locked. I was about to pound upon it, when I happened to touch a key
which I turned and here I am.”
“Oh!” Virginia exclaimed. “I remember that door. It is the one I
tried to open last night when the candle blew out, but I found it
locked. Peyton said he supposed that it led into a store room but he
had never been curious enough about the matter to investigate.”
Babs was opening the windows, letting in the cool morning breeze.
“I’m going to ask Peyton if we can’t have these bars removed,” she
declared as she stood peering through them. “I feel as though I were
in a jail looking out between bars this way.” Suddenly she uttered
an exclamation which took all of the girls hurrying to her side.
“What is it, Babs? What do you see? Why are you staring so intently
at the ground?” were the questions hurled at her. Babs whirled about
and faced them, her eyes wide with excitement. “This is the window
through which I saw a Mexican last night peering in at us,” she
said.
The others nodded. “You all laughed at me and declared that I was
letting my imagination run riot.” Then she added, exultingly,
“Follow me, young ladies, and you will discover that I, too, am a
very fine detective.”
Much mystified, the girls trooped out of the kitchen door and around
the house. Babs, in the lead, stopped and picked up something from
the ground not far from the barred window. Turning she held aloft a
peculiarly shaped key.
“This probably will solve the mystery for us,” she declared. “Good,
there is Peyton. Hail him, Betsy, will you?”
The lad mounted, was about to start with several peons for the
valley pasture when he heard the girls calling. Whirling his horse
and bidding the Mexicans wait his return, he galloped up.
Dismounting, he asked Babs what was wanted of him. He listened to
her story, almost believing that she had been imaginative until she
produced the strangely shaped key as evidence that some one had been
there.
“Brother, did you ever see that key before?” Babs eagerly inquired.
The lad nodded. “Yes,” he replied. “I saw it lying on Trujillo’s bed
yesterday morning when I went to his bunk early to ask his advice
before beginning the work of the day. I picked up the key at the
time and examined it because of its queer shape, but I made no
comment as the matter I had called to discuss was much more
important. However, I cannot believe that my trusted overseer would
spy upon the actions of my sister and her guests. There must be some
other solution of this mystery,” he said. Then he added: “Please say
nothing concerning it and I will try to find out the truth about the
whole matter.”
Peyton slipped the key into one of his coat pockets and lifting his
hat to the girls he rode away.