THE HAUNTED MAKE-BELIEVE "CASTLE."
It was about the middle of a fall afternoon, and Friday at that, when
five well-grown lads, clad in faded khaki suits that proclaimed them
to be Boy Scouts, dropped down upon a moss covered log near a cold
spring at which they had just quenched their thirst.
The one who acted as leader, and to whom the others often deferred,
answered to the name of Hugh. He was, indeed, Hugh Hardin, assistant
scout master; and the others were also full-fledged members of the
Oakvale Boy Scout Troop of which so much has been written and told.
Those fortunate readers who are familiar with previous volumes in
this series need no introduction to these lively lads.
For the benefit of others who have not up to this time made their
acquaintance, it may be said that the boy next to Hugh was Alec Sands;
the stout, rosy-cheeked fellow with the beaming face, Billy Worth;
the slender one, Arthur Cameron; and the uneasy chap "Monkey" Stallings,
so nicknamed on account of his pet hobby for hanging by his toes from
the cross-pieces of telegraph poles, or the lofty limbs of forest trees.
It might also be noted further that Hugh was known as a fine all-round
scout; Arthur's leading specialty lay in the line of amateur surgery,
at which he was wonderfully proficient; Alec gave the leader a pretty
good race in nearly every line of scout activity, while Billy,---well,
to be frank, Billy's strong points might be set down as an everlasting
fund of cheery good-nature, and a remarkable capacity for stowing away
"grub."
Apparently the boys were out on some sort of fall hike. Each had
burdened himself not only with a pack but a blanket as well, the latter
secured, after the usual military habit, across one shoulder.
Each fellow also depended on a stout staff that, in a way, answered
for an Alpine stock, should they have to climb any hills. Besides, it
was handy as a weapon of defense in case they were attacked by a
vicious dog.
"Well, the time limit you set has come, Alec," Hugh was saying after
they had stretched themselves along the convenient log.
"Yes," burst out Billy, eagerly, "you promised to tell us all what
you confided to Hugh before he agreed to get up this little weekend
hike. I'm burning with curiosity to know what's in the wind."
"We've taken a leap in the dark, you see," added Arthur, "because
when Hugh said it would be well worth our while we just trusted him.
Now, open up, Alec, and relieve our suspense. You said the next time
we stopped you'd begin to explain all this dark mystery."
"Me, too," exclaimed the Stallings boy, who was always turning his
restless eyes upward, as though seeking some enticing branch where he
could exercise his favorite antics.
Alec Sands laughed softly.
"I'm ready to tell my little story, boys," he remarked. "It isn't such
a wonderful one, after all, but Hugh agreed with me that it might give
some of us an excuse for coming up this way. And my aunt had supplied
all the necessary funds covering our railroad fare from Oakvale to the
little station where we jumped off the local train---Scarsdale."
"Which aunt, Alec?" demanded Billy, whom it was always difficult to
suppress.
"Oh! none of you ever met _this_ relative of mine, I guess," considered
Alec. "Aunt Susan is a very rich woman, and what you might call
eccentric if you wanted to be particularly nice, and not use a harsher
word. In fact, her nerves have gone back on her, and every little
noise about sets her _wild_. She has taken a notion that the only
salvation for her is to find some sort of a quiet country home in
which her servants can glide around in felt slippers, with never a
rooster's crow to disturb the dead silence."
"Whew! you must mean she's a regular crank, Alec---excuse me for
saying it!" exclaimed Billy, wiping his heated brow, for when others
were shivering the fat boy perspired.
"Well, forget that part of it," resumed Alec, making a wry face. "Aunt
Susan is peculiar, and immensely wealthy, so that money needn't stand
in the way of her doing anything she fancies. In some way or other it
seems she heard about a queer place away up here in the woods. It is
known as Randall's Folly!"
"Why, seems to me I've heard something about that place!" burst out
Arthur Cameron, in a surprised tone. "Isn't it a modern castle built
by a man years ago and meant to look like some British place in the
days of Queen Elizabeth?"
"Just what it is, Arthur," chuckled Alec, as though highly amused.
"Let's see," pursued the other, uneasily, "there was some sort of
story told in connection with the castle---strikes me folks said it
was haunted, or something like that."
"Whew! and are we heading for that beautiful spot as fast as we can
hike along?" demanded Billy, his eyes round with wonder, perhaps
uneasiness.
"My aunt wrote to my mother that she wanted some one to come up here
and investigate, so she could have a full description before going
any further into the deal for the property. Not that Aunt Susan bothered
a bit about the ghost part of it, but she wanted to know whether the
building was a ramshackle affair, or part-way decent. In fact, she
asked for photographs of the place inside and out, and even requested
that, if I could be induced to take the trip, along with some of those
wonderfully bright chums of mine of whom she had been hearing such
great stories, I was to buy the best camera that fifty dollars could
command, and use the balance of the hundred for other expenses. So
here we are close to Randall's Folly, with Saturday ahead of us for
business, and meaning to go back home Sunday afternoon."
"Which lovely programme must include two nights spent under the roof
of a haunted house!" gasped Billy, still wiping his streaming forehead,
though he really should have been cooled off by this time.
"For my part," spoke up Arthur Cameron, "nothing would please me better
than the chance to say I'd run across a real ghost. I've been reading
lots of creepy stories connected with spooks, but they never could get
me to believe in such silly things."
"Same here," added the Stallings boy, though his voice sounded a trifle
unsteady as Hugh could not help noticing.
"As for me," the scout master remarked, "I considered it a fine chance
for a little excitement. I, too, had heard some stories about this
gloomy make-believe castle that had been built in the lonely woods
by old Judge Randall when he married a young wife, and wanted to carry
her away from the rest of the world. They say it's getting to be an
interesting ruin by now, though perhaps Alec's aunt might choose to
patch the crumbling walls up, if other things suited her."
"Huh! takes all sorts of freaks to make this world," grunted Billy.
"The idea of anybody actually wanting to bury themselves away up
here, and never see a thing in the way of circus, baseball, winter
hockey, Boy Scout rivalries and other good happenings. The old Judge
must have been crazy."
"Well, lots of people suspected it when he started to build this
castle," said Alec, drily. "They felt dead sure after it happened;
for hold your breath now, fellows, because to be honest with you there
was a terrible tragedy, and after the poor young wife was buried the
judge lived as much as ten years in an asylum. He had become a maniac,
you see, from jealousy of his beautiful wife."
"I suppose it's all right, since there are four other fellows along,"
Billy finally went on to say, "but honest Injun, if I had known all
this at the start, I don't believe I would have been so anxious to
come. I expect that old toothache of mine would have cropped up and
kept me home."
"The walking is good down to the station, Billy," murmured Alec, "and
we were told that a freight-train would come along around dark this
evening, bound south, which was due to stop at the water-tank"
"That'll be enough for you, Alec," continued the fat boy, with a certain
amount of dignity. "You never knew me to show the white feather, and
back down, once I put my shoulder to the wheel. If the rest can stand
it I ought to be able to do so."
"Good for you, Billy," cried Hugh. "Alec here ought to make you an
apology. But since we've rested up, and there's still half a mile
to tramp, with the afternoon wearing on, suppose we make a fresh start."
Soon they were trailing along the dimly seen road, which evidently
was not used to any great extent by the few scattered farmers in that
vicinity. Most of the talk was in connection with the weird mansion
toward which they were heading. Alec was coaxed to relate a number
of other facts he had managed to pick up regarding its romantic history.
"Look out for signs of a high wall on the left, boys," he finally
told them. "It may be almost hidden by vines and scrub trees by now,
I was warned. It surrounds the whole place, though here and there
it may be broken down. Few people after dark want to pass this place
except in a hurry, and although it's only a mile and a half from the
railroad, I don't believe tramps ever think of coming here. You see,
most of them know the stories told about Randall's Folly, and they
steer clear of the place."
A short time afterwards Hugh's keen eyes made a discovery.
"I think the wall you mentioned lies over yonder where all that wild
tangle can be seen," he remarked, whereupon there was a hurried movement
in that direction, followed by various exclamations to the effect that
the scout master's announcement was indeed true.
"Seems as if the castle must be perched on a high piece of ground,
commanding a pretty good view of the country around," observed Arthur,
as they sought for a broken place in the crumbling wall so as to gain
an entrance to the grounds beyond.
"The story goes that Judge Randall built it that way so he could keep
watch, and know if any of his wife's former suitors were heading this
way," Alec explained.
"Why, he must have been a regular old Bluebeard!" gurgled Billy.
"He was demented on that one subject," confessed Alec, "and the disease
kept getting a stronger grip on him until finally---but hello! here's
the hole in the wall we wanted to find, so let's crawl over the
broken-down stones and enter."
"Hold on," snapped Hugh just then, "I thought you said, Alec, no one
was bold enough to trespass here! If you look down to where I point
you'll see part of a footprint in mud, showing that a man must have
come across this broken wall not half an hour or so ago!"