Cara’s Fright
“It doesn’t matter if you didn’t bring a token,” Madge comforted the
shaking Cara. “We’ll not make you go back there again. But tell us, what
frightened you so?”
“I—I saw a ghost!”
“You must have dreamed it,” Jane declared. “I guess you saw so many
ghosts during the initiation that you had them on your mind.”
Cara shook her head stubbornly.
“No, I didn’t dream this. I saw something white moving around in the
Swenster yard—I don’t know what it could have been if it wasn’t a ghost!”
Madge switched on the living room lights and led Cara to a chair. The
girls were disturbed to see that she was pale. No one doubted that her
fright was genuine.
“Cara Wayne, you know very well that ghosts don’t exist,” Madge said
sternly. “Now tell us exactly what happened.”
“Well, I went to the old mansion as I was told to do. I went around the
back way and found the gate ajar. Believe me, I wasn’t very keen to go
inside, but I made myself do it. No sooner had I stepped inside than I
saw the thing—oh, it was awful!”
“What did it look like?” Edna demanded.
“I just saw something white and a face—it frightened me so I turned and
ran. I made it back here in about thirty seconds flat.”
“What was your so called ghost doing in the Swenster yard?” Madge
questioned curiously.
“Digging with a shovel!”
Until now the girls had been impressed with Cara’s story although they
took no stock in ghosts, but this announcement called forth gales of
laughter in which all joined save Madge. She had begun to think that
perhaps Cara’s fright was based upon something more substantial than
imagination. She kept the thought to herself.
“You must have been seeing things!” Jane scoffed.
“Well, if you don’t believe me, go there yourself and find out!” Cara
challenged.
Madge tactfully put an end to the argument by suggesting that
refreshments be served.
“We’ve all had enough initiation for one night,” she said. “I vote that
without further ceremony we make Cara a full-fledged member of the club.”
The others unanimously agreed. Cara breathed a deep sigh of relief as she
realized that it was all over. Madge and Enid went to the kitchen to dish
up ice cream and cake. Everyone was very sweet to Cara, trying to atone
for the unpleasant events of the evening. She bore no one a grudge and
soon was able to laugh at her own experience.
Before the girls had finished their ice cream, Mr. and Mrs. Brady
returned home from the bridge party.
“Remember, not a word about what happened,” Jane warned as footsteps were
heard on the porch.
Mr. and Mrs. Brady greeted the girls cordially. Themselves youthful in
spirit, they enjoyed the society of young people and never objected when
Madge overran the house with her friends. If they noticed that Cara
looked pale and slightly ill at ease, they made no mention of it.
A few minutes later the girls departed, gratefully accepting Mr. Brady’s
offer to drive them home in his car. Madge had hoped to speak alone with
Cara before she left, but the opportunity did not present itself.
“I’ll see her tomorrow at school,” she thought. “I mean to find out more
about what happened tonight at the Swenster mansion. Cara isn’t the sort
to be frightened over nothing. I’m inclined to think something queer may
be going on there.”
Madge had a certain instinct for adventure; her many thrilling
experiences were the envy of her friends. Each summer she was privileged
to spend many pleasant months at her uncle’s fishing lodge at Loon Lake,
Canada. There she had met Jack French, a young forest ranger, who had
taken more than an ordinary interest in her. Her friendship for an
orphan, Anne Fairaday, had plunged her into a baffling search for a
valuable paper. The story of this interesting adventure is related in the
first volume of the Madge Sterling series, entitled “The Missing
Formula.”
More recently, she had been involved in a strange kidnapping case.
Arriving at Cheltham Bay to visit her friend Enid, she had found the
Burnett yacht abandoned. In trying to discover what became of Mr. Burnett
she was brought into dangerous contact with a fanatical group of Zudi
Drum worshipers. This story is recounted in the volume “The Deserted
Yacht.”
“I’ve often wondered why the Swenster mansion has been kept boarded up
all these years,” Madge reflected as she undressed for bed. “It must have
been quite a show place at one time.”
She was still thinking of the old estate when she tumbled into bed.
Perhaps Cara’s tale of “ghosts” had disturbed her more than she knew for
her dreams were of the wildest sort. It seemed to her that she had slept
half the night when she was awakened by a loud cry from the basement.
Actually, she had been asleep only a few minutes.
“What was that?” she asked herself nervously, sitting up in bed. “I hope
it isn’t a burglar!”
The sound was not repeated but she could hear something banging about in
the basement. After a moment of indecision she decided to investigate.
Slipping into her bathrobe, she stole softly down the stairway. She could
hear someone coming up the basement steps and scarcely knew whether to
retreat or stand her ground.
Suddenly the cellar door was flung open and Uncle George stomped angrily
into the kitchen.
“Say, who left a tub of water at the foot of the stairs?” he demanded
crossly. “Look at me!”
The sight struck Madge as extremely funny and she made the mistake of
laughing.
“If this is your idea of a joke—” Mr. Brady began threateningly.
Madge hastily assured him that the tub of water had not been intended for
him, but it was some time before she could clear herself. She finally
coaxed him into a better humor and left him foraging contentedly in the
refrigerator.
The next day she did not forget her resolution to question Cara Wayne.
During algebra class, when the teacher’s back was turned, she passed a
note, asking Cara to wait for her after school.
“I want you to tell me more about the Swenster ghost,” Madge commanded as
they linked arms and started away from the building.
“Oh, dear, I suppose I’ll never hear the last of it,” Cara sighed. “I’m
willing to admit it couldn’t have been a ghost, but there was somebody in
that yard!”
“I have a splendid idea!” Madge confided, watching her friend
mischievously. “Let’s go to the old mansion now and see what we can
discover.”
Cara shrank away.
“No, thanks. I don’t care for the place.”
“It’s broad daylight,” Madge insisted. “And remember, for a week you’re
supposed to obey the commands of any member of Skull and Crossbones.”
“Oh, all right,” Cara submitted unwillingly, “but I don’t see what you
expect to find there.”
Madge did not respond. In truth, she could not have told what she hoped
to learn. It was pure intuition that had inspired the little adventure.
Turning down Summit Street, she urged Cara to a faster pace.
“Don’t look so glum,” she protested gayly. “It will be fun! Before we’re
through, I’ll warrant you’ll be glad I brought you along!”