The Swenster Mansion
The Swenster mansion was a large, rambling affair, set back some distance
from the other modern dwellings on Summit Street. A high, untrimmed hedge
at the front and large evergreen trees hid the grounds from view. The
windows had been boarded up for years and most persons could not recall
when the house had been occupied. It had fast fallen into decay. Shutters
dangled loosely on rusty hinges, weeds choked the lawn, everything needed
paint. Yet, with the passing years, the old mansion had retained
something of its former elegance.
Madge and Cara paused briefly to survey the place from the front, then
walked swiftly around to the rear.
“We may get into trouble if we’re caught trespassing,” Cara ventured
timidly.
“No danger of that when the owner hasn’t been heard from in years,” Madge
returned, undisturbed. She rattled the back gate and was surprised to
find it locked. “That’s queer. It was unfastened yesterday afternoon when
I stopped.”
“It wasn’t locked last night,” Cara added with growing uneasiness. “Let’s
not try to get in.”
Madge was not to be so easily discouraged.
“We can climb over easy as scat!” she declared.
“But if someone should see us?”
“Let them. At the worst, we can only be run out. Come on.”
She swung over the fence with an ease which her friend could not hope to
duplicate. Still protesting, Cara permitted herself to be helped over.
Madge looked about the grounds with keen interest. A winding walk led to
a tangled, overgrown rose garden. She saw a tiny cement pool, clogged
with old dead leaves and sticks. Beyond, a sundial of peculiar design and
construction, attracted her attention.
“Isn’t it quaint!” she exclaimed admiringly. “Let’s see if we can tell
what time it is.”
“I know I can’t,” Cara insisted. “I never could make head nor tail of
them.”
The dial rested upon a concrete pedestal which reached waist high when
the girls stood beside it. Upon the brass face appeared slightly raised
Roman numerals and the triangular gnomon cast its shadow across the four.
“It’s just a little after four o’clock,” Madge announced.
“That’s a safe guess,” Cara laughed. “You know school lets out at ten
till.”
“You don’t need to guess with a sundial such as this. Half of them won’t
tell time accurately. That’s because they’re turned out at the factory
and sent all over the country. To be accurate a sundial must be made
especially for the section where it is used.”
“This one does look home made,” Cara acknowledged. “It’s nice work
though.”
Madge would have enjoyed wandering about in the garden but she could tell
that her friend was eager to get away. Reluctantly, she gave her
attention to the matter which had drawn her to the mansion.
“Tell me where it was that you saw your ghost,” she commanded.
“It wasn’t a dozen paces from where we’re standing. Someone was digging
here in the garden.”
For the first time Madge carefully studied the ground. She paused a short
distance from the sundial.
“There’s loose earth here,” she announced, stirring it with the toe of
her shoe. “I guess you were right about seeing someone.”
“Certainly I was right. I hope you don’t think I’m afraid of my shadow.”
“Of course not, Cara. I wonder who could have been digging here and for
what purpose?”
“Maybe someone was burying a dead cat.”
Madge shook her head and smiled.
“Folks don’t go to other people’s yards to bury their pets. Think of a
better reason.”
“Gold!” Cara cried promptly. “Perhaps there’s a treasure hidden here.”
“I’d like to think so, but I’m afraid that only happens in story books.
Cara, what did your ghost do when he saw you?”
“I don’t think he saw me at all. Anyway, I didn’t wait long enough to
find out.”
Madge examined the loose earth but as she had no implement with which to
dig, was unable to tell whether or not anything had been buried. Cara
displayed slight interest and moved away. Madge completely forgot her
until she came back dragging a spade.
“Here, if you must dig around in the dirt, use this.”
Madge seized upon the tool, demanding to know where it had been
discovered.
Cara indicated a large lilac bush only a few feet away. “I found it
beneath the branches.”
“This must be the shovel your ghost was using last night! See, there’s a
little dirt still on it. If it had been lying there long, it would be
rusty. Cara, I’ll wager a cent—a good Indian cent—that you frightened
someone away from here last evening.”
“Then it was mutual.”
“Perhaps the person who hid this shovel intends to come back again,”
Madge went on reflectively. “Now what I can’t understand is why anyone
would come to a boarded-up mansion at midnight to dig up the garden.”
Cara, who was not particularly imaginative, could not suggest a possible
explanation. She watched with hopeful interest as her friend began to
turn up the loose earth. After Madge had dug for fifteen minutes she
decided it was not worth the effort.
“Shucks! I’m convinced there’s nothing hidden here. And if anyone should
find us digging up the yard it might be hard to explain.”
She carefully repacked the soil in the hole, and then to Cara’s
wonderment, returned the spade to the place where it had been found under
the lilac.
“Why take such pains?” she asked.
“Because I don’t want your ‘ghost’ to know we’ve used his spade,” Madge
explained. “I’m curious to learn what there is worth digging for in this
yard. I mean to find out too!”
“Just how do you propose to go about it?” Cara questioned skeptically.
“Oh, by keeping my eyes and ears open. You can tell that whoever was here
last night didn’t care to be observed. It’s my opinion he’ll come back to
do some more digging.”
“Well, if he does, the occasion will be conspicuous for my absence,” Cara
declared feelingly.
She glanced at her wrist watch and flashed it before her friend’s eyes.
“Do you see what time it is? I must be getting home.”
Madge gazed regretfully toward the boarded-up house and wished that she
might at least peep inside to see what secrets it guarded. It would be
relatively simple to pry loose a board, but of course she had no
intention of ever doing that. As it was, she felt somewhat guilty because
she had trespassed.
She followed Cara to the gate and after looking about to see that the
alley was deserted, climbed over. They walked thoughtfully toward their
homes, parting at the Wayne residence.
“Better keep this little affair under your hat,” Madge advised. “If you
do, we may be able to have some fun out of it.”
“Trust me,” Cara promised. “But if you’re planning any midnight visits to
the mansion or anything of the kind, count me out.”
Madge laughed and turned away. Already she was planning another trip to
the old mansion, but she thought it wise not to mention it just yet.
“It behooves me to learn a few facts about the Swensters before I jump to
hasty conclusions,” she told herself, as she continued home. “Between now
and my next visit, I must unearth the family history.”