“Tell us what you are taking!” begged Marjorie, as they came up on the porch.
“Well, let’s see,” said John. “Not a whole lot—a blanket apiece—”
“Oh, I don’t mean that kind of things!” interrupted Marjorie. “I mean interesting things!”
“Oh—well, a revolver apiece, flash-lights, cigarettes, matches, and so forth1. By the way, is anybody going to get us any breakfast tomorrow morning?”
“Just watch her!” laughed Marjorie.
“Well, I hope we do get a little excitement out of it,” remarked Jack3. “I’ll certainly be disappointed if nothing more happens to us than to those cops.”
“Jack, you oughtn’t to talk that way,” remonstrated4 Daisy, who in reality was as worried as Lily and Doris. “Suppose something awful does happen!”
“Suppose we see spirits, like Anna!” remarked Jack. “And make you girls fiddle5 with ouija boards and go to seances in darkened rooms—”
“At least it would be thrilling,” remarked Ethel. “But I never will believe anything till I see for myself.”
“Your turn’s coming, Ethel,” said Marjorie. “You and I are going to spend a night there soon.”
“Oh, please don’t!” begged Lily; but both girls laughed at her.
The boys stayed until ten o’clock, and Marjorie and Ethel told all the gruesome, ghostly stories they could think of; but without any effect whatever, for the boys went off as cheerful as ever and as light-hearted.
It was a still night. A full moon, which seemed to be suspended in an inanimate sky, made the road before them easily distinguishable in the darkness. There was something peculiar6 in the appearance of the moon, and even the sky looked strange. The boys commented upon it. But they could not make up their minds that it was a feeling of suppressed excitement within them, and not the moon and the sky, which made them feel that something was about to happen.
“I’ll bet it rains tomorrow,” remarked John. “Maybe tonight. Look at those clouds up there—hardly moving. It’s sultry, too; not a leaf stirring.”
“Guess you’re right,” assented7 Jack. “Once we get inside the house, let it come, say I; and the spirits can bring their umbrellas with them. Gee9! but it’s hot!”
“You speak the truth,” said Bill Warner, who was rather stout10. “Let’s walk a little slower; the ghosts will wait.”
“Yes; this blanket of mine is getting unwieldy.”
“Let’s take our coats off,” suggested Dick. “We’re not likely to meet any one between here and the tea-house at this time of night.”
They followed his suggestion, and walked along in silence for awhile, with their hats in their hands and their jackets across their arms. Then Pierce Ellison said:
“Too bad we didn’t come in your tea-pot, Hadley.”
“Too much noise,” replied John. “I don’t know what all of your opinions are about this mystery, but it’s mine that it’s a human agency. Have any of you fellows anything in the back of your heads that you haven’t spoken of—for fear of alarming the girls, or any other reason? It might give us a clue, you know. Something to work on.”
“Not a glimmer,” answered someone.
“I agree with Hadley,” said Jack. “What was the cause of those three deaths in close succession in the Scott family? Pure coincidence. Then there’s the stories of the horse and the stray dog. They may be coincidence, too; yet, I confess it seems funny that they happened as they did. But this business of Anna is different. I, for one, believe that something actually happened to the girl; but I can’t guess what. She’s too muddled11 herself to know much about it.”
“So do I,” agreed John. “I believe her; I had a talk with Anna. Her eyes looked right when she told me about it. And she showed me great black and blue marks on her arms, that could only have been made by strong hands—human hands! I believe her.”
“Yes; but Marjorie has an idea that she was galavanting around somewheres.”
“I don’t think,” said John, “that it is so much that Marjorie believes that herself as it is that she wants the others to believe it. Marjorie’s one thought is to remove suspicion from the tea-house.”
Jack, who was walking next to John, glanced hastily at him, surprised at this insight into the mind of his sister.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted. “Well, we’re here, fellows. Let’s get into the house as quietly and as quickly as possible. I’ll go first with the key.”
They paused in the road and looked over the hedge.
The tea-house lay silent in the moonlight, which emphasized the roof and chimneys and was reflected in the upper windows, but left the lower part in shadow.
They passed swiftly into the house, and without making a light, entered the rest-room and tossed their blankets into a corner. Their footsteps and subdued12 voices sounded strangely in the closed house. John turned on his pocket flash and examined the rooms downstairs. Apparently13 everything remained as the girls had left it. He tried all the windows and doors, and found them locked; then returned to the others.
“While you fellows make yourselves comfortable, I’ll step outside and take a look around,” he said. “If you hear me poking14 around, don’t take me for a ghost.”
Outside, he found the atmosphere hot and oppressive. He walked leisurely15 beneath the trees, looking about him. Around at the back, everything seemed right enough; the stable was a deep black shadow, barely distinguishable beneath the low-hanging branches of intervening trees. John strolled around to the rose arbor16, where the air was heavy with an odor of sweetness from the blooms, and stood for a minute considering whether it would be advisable for him to sit there while he smoked a cigarette. The others would miss him, and would probably come searching for him. He decided17 against it, turned, and went in.
The boys had spread several of the army blankets upon the floor, and were lying flat on their backs side by side, telling each other the most harrowing tales they had ever read or heard of. This Jack discovered when he almost fell over them; for in the darkness he could not see the prostrate18 forms. They were so absorbed in a weird19 story Eugene Schofield was telling that they failed to take notice of his return, except to make room for him as he felt his way among them and stretched himself upon the blankets. John smiled to himself as he listened to the hushed, tense voice of the narrator, and realized that, boylike, they were working themselves up to a fine pitch of excitement for spending the night in such a place.
“That was a corker!” commented one, as Eugene finished his story amid murmurs21 of approval from the other boys. “Did they ever find out what became of him?”
“Say, fellows,” interrupted Jack, “it’s as close as the deuce in here. Let’s have some air.”
The boy nearest the windows opened them. Then someone else commenced another story. John listened for awhile, watching the glow of Jack’s cigarette, until a feeling of drowsiness23, which he was unable to cast off, came over him, and he slept.
He dreamed that he was pursued. He knew that he was dreaming, for he could still hear the murmur22 of the boys’ voices, very far off. He could not have explained what it was that was after him; it was formless, indescribable. And yet it seemed to have form, too, or at least bulk; and as he fled it seemed to roll after him with an overwhelming presence. He could feel himself escaping, as if into a narrow cavern24 which became smaller and smaller, while he too diminished in size; yet all the while the presence was after him, and he could feel, rather than see, a mass like a great ball, which appeared to grow larger and more overpowering as it approached. As it was attempting to cram25 itself into the entrance of the cavern, oppressing him horribly, he woke up.
He knew that a door had blown shut, and that the noise had wakened him. A strong wind which smelt26 of rain was blowing in through the open windows, and it chilled him. He got up and closed the windows, and going over to the fire-place, tossed in some chips and set a match to them thinking it would be more cheerful to have even a tiny fire. As the chips caught, the dim light showed the boys lying in the middle of the floor, several of them asleep, and the rest still listening to ghost stories. John lay down again and watched the grotesque28 shadows, cast by the fire, flickering29 about on the ceiling. But the effect upon him was like hypnotism, and he could feel himself again sinking into slumber30, when a faint noise outside brought him suddenly to his feet, wide awake. He stood there, alert and listening. The others seemed not to have noticed anything, except his sudden rising, and looked up at him inquiringly. John merely placed a finger to his lips, and listened. He could now hear distinctly the steps of someone approaching up the driveway. They were coming toward the house. Who could it be, he wondered. Not one of the girls, at this time of the night? No, it was a man’s firm tread. An officer, who had noticed their light from the road, and was coming to investigate? What a fool he was to have made a light! These thoughts flashed through his mind with lightning rapidity.
“Don’t move!” he commanded. “Someone is coming!”
The heavy tread sounded upon the porch; there was an instant’s pause, and then came a knocking at the screen door.
John strode across the room, shot back the heavy bolt, and opened the door.
“I saw your light,” said a rough voice, apologetically.
“Well, what do you want?” demanded John, sharply; for he noticed that the man was trying to look past him, into the room beyond.
“I want to know whether Bill Smith lives here,” said the rough voice, a little louder than before.
“No,” answered John; “he doesn’t.”
“He don’t? Well, he lives around here somewheres, and I thought it was here.”
In the dim light John could just make out, beneath a slouch hat, that the man had a large nose and a heavy moustache. He also noted33 that his breath smelled strongly of liquor.
“I’m very sorry. I don’t know anyone of that name,” repeated John—“as common as the name is,” he added, as an afterthought.
He could see that the man was grinning as he turned away.
“All right!” he called out over his shoulder. “Sorry I troubled you fellows!”
John watched the retreating figure pass out of the drive. When he reached the road, the man paused for a moment, looked back towards the house, then up and down the road, and finally walked away.
John stood at the open door for several minutes, waiting to see whether the man would return. When he turned back into the room his brows were drawn34 together and he was thinking hard.
“Now I wonder what he really wanted?” he asked.
“Wanted? You heard what he said, didn’t you?” said Bill Warner. “He wanted Bill Smith.”
“Bah!” exploded Jack. “The first name on the tip of his tongue—Bill Smith! He wanted to see what was going on in here, most likely.”
“I’m an ass8 not to have followed that fellow,” announced John. “Of course, he might have wanted Bill Smith; but there was something about the look of him that made me doubt it, even while he was standing35 there.”
“What did he look like?”
“Oh, a stage villain36. Big nose and moustache—and a funny grin. But I couldn’t see much through the screen door.”
“A tramp?” suggested one.
John shook his head.
“Too well dressed—or ‘dressed up,’ if you know what I mean. More like a rough-neck.”
“Then what the deuce could he want here, if not to find Bill Smith?” persisted Bill Warner.
John only shrugged37 his shoulders, and thrusting his hands into his trousers’ pockets, commenced pacing up and down the room. The rest sat quite still, turning the occurrence over in their minds.
“Do you suppose he figured on robbing the place?” inquired Jack.
John stopped pacing to consider the suggestion.
“People can’t help but see that this tea-room is taking in money,” continued Jack. “If this fellow knew about it, perhaps he thought the girls might leave the money here overnight.”
“Maybe,” said John. “But I doubt it. If he came to burgle he would have sneaked38 in, and seeing a light, would have gone away again. No, he came up boldly enough.”
“Maybe he thought there were nothing but girls in here.”
“True,” admitted John. “It was my first thought that he might be the human agency we are looking for.”
“Search me! Well, there’s no use of our speculating about it; we’re not getting anywhere. But just the same, I think I was a fool not to follow the fellow,” concluded John; and he stretched out before the fire again.
The boys were quiet for some time, each occupied with his own thoughts. Several had already dozed40 off when Jack finally got up and threw more wood on the fire.
“He sure did have some breath on him,” said John.
Jack started and stared down at him.
“Heh? Are you talking in your sleep?”
“No,” laughed John. “I merely remarked that that tramp, or whatever you want to call him, had some breath on him. It smelt so strong of alcohol, I’ll bet if you held a lighted match under his chin, he’d breathe a blue flame.”
“Aw, you go on!” growled41 Dick Roberts. “Say, aren’t you chaps ever going to sleep? Why don’t you quit thinking about such things?”
“That’s pretty good advice,” yawned John. “I guess I will turn in.”
He rummaged42 in the corner for his own blanket, rolled up in it, and prepared to sleep. Jack followed his example, lying down beside him. Then Pierce Ellison and Eugene Schofield, the only ones who were still sitting up, decided to join them.
“Why don’t you two fellows go upstairs and use the army cots,” suggested John. “It’s silly to let them go to waste.”
“I don’t mind—if none of the others want them.”
“There’s no one left,” said John. “Go to it!”
“How about you, Jack?” offered Pierce.
“I wouldn’t move for the world,” replied that person. “Half of me is asleep already.”
“All right then. Good night! Call us if you need any help.”
“No such luck! Good night!”
When John lay down he had every intention of going to sleep; but he found that it was not so easy as he thought. He envied Jack, who was already breathing regularly by his side. No doubt the nap he had earlier in the evening took the edge from his fatigue43; but he was also conscious of an inward state of excitement which was far from conducive44 to sleep. He smiled to himself as he analyzed45 his own feelings: he had always regarded himself as a steady, common-place sort of creature, not a bit excitable; in fact, at school he had had a reputation of being particularly reliable, a cool hand in a tight place. When he had pitched on his school nine, his team-mates learned that there was no danger of his becoming rattled46 simply because there was three men on base at a time when an additional run would lose the game for them; in such situations John Hadley always pitched his best.
He knew that his present restlessness was not due to fear of anything, either natural or supernatural, that might happen; he even longed for action as a means of relieving the tension. He was surprised at the number of strange sounds a house will make during the night; at every creak and rattle47 he would prick48 up his ears. One noise in particular, which seemed to come from upstairs, startled him; but he exerted his will power, and refrained from investigating; for he could hear Eugene Schofield clear his throat from time to time, and knew thereby49 that he too was still awake.
So he forced himself to think of other things, tried to relax as much as possible, and to lie perfectly51 still. It was then that he realized how much the other boys were tossing about, even though they slept. Occasionally someone would murmur inarticulately.
“Too many ghost stories for you,” thought John. “Yet you sleep, while I stay awake. Well, I guess I’m just as well satisfied at that. Why should I care whether I go to sleep or not? If I stay awake, so much the better if anything does happen; it’s what I’m here for, anyway. And this certainly is better than having a nightmare.”
It was after he took this attitude that he finally dozed off. The next thing he knew he was standing up, wide awake. He could not tell how long he had slept, but it was evidently not long; for the coals in the fire-place were still glowing, and giving off enough light for him to distinguish the sleeping form of Jack. He could not remember the act of getting up; yet he was standing upright when consciousness had come to him. Was it a condition of over-wrought nerves, or had some unusual sound aroused him?
Without the wind was blowing in sudden gusts52, rattling53 the sashes in the windows. At intervals54 a pale light shone through the panes55 for an instant, and a few seconds after came the distant rumble56 of thunder.
“Just as I thought,” reflected John. “The storm’s coming this way—coming fast!”
He was suddenly aware of a peculiar sound of something grinding and straining, which terminated in a hollow thud. Instantly he became alert, straining his ears for a repetition of the noise. It came again, in a strange creaking, as if someone were trying to pry57 open a shutter58. Then he thought he could hear a step on the back porch. John was sure, this time, that the moment for action had come. But he hesitated, thinking quickly. The sound was at the back of the house.
He put his hand upon the revolver in his hip27 pocket. Should he awaken59 the others, or go alone? He must act quickly. If he went prowling about by himself, the others might hear him, and become alarmed; they might even mistake him for an intruder, and fire at him.
While he stood there considering, the noise occurred again; there was a movement at his feet, and he looked and saw Jack’s head raised in a listening attitude. Then Jack turned to look at the place where John had been lying, and beheld60 him standing over him, and he sat up quickly.
“I heard something!” he whispered.
John nodded his head.
“Let’s wake the others,” he said, stooping down and putting his mouth close to Jack’s ear. “Then let’s you and me investigate. It’s around back—sounds as if somebody’s trying to jimmy a shutter as quietly as possible. We’ll go out the front and surprise them from the rear.”
“How shall we wake the others without making a noise?” asked Jack.
“Put your hand over their mouths and say ‘Sh!’ as soon as they move.”
Jack signified that he understood; and they tip-toed about the room arousing their unconscious comrades, succeeding in doing so without causing one surprised exclamation61. Nevertheless, they were surprised, but too dazed by the sudden awakening62 to understand anything.
And without further explanation, he and Jack slipped quietly out the front door. Each had a revolver in his hand. As they stepped out into the driveway their feet crunched64 alarmingly upon the gravel65. John caught Jack’s arm and drew him beneath the lilac bushes at the corner of the house. Then they commenced a stealthy advance towards the rear, keeping as much as possible within the shadows. When they had circled about the rear wing, John dropped on his hands and knees and peered cautiously around the corner, commanding a view of the back door and part of the tea-room. In the darkness he could not see anything; for the moon had been obscured by a mass of heavy black clouds. He stepped back and consulted with Jack in a whisper, and together they waited to see whether the next flash of lightning would reveal anything to their straining eyes. It came soon, a sharp jagged fork of light which seemed to trickle66 across the sky, followed almost instantly by a peal67 of thunder; for the storm was almost upon them. For a moment everything was as bright as in daylight; then was immediately plunged68 into darkness. But the flash had lasted long enough for them to see that no one was about. As the thunder died away in the distance, the only sound they could hear was the soft patter of the coming rain upon the leaves of the trees.
“Let’s go out in the open,” said Jack. “Let’s take a hasty look around and then beat it in again. We’ll soon be soaked if we don’t.”
They darted69 quickly here and there, examining dark corners of the lawn, looking into bushes, and behind tree trunks. The rain was coming faster, the lightning flashed incessantly70, and the continuous roll of the thunder made talk impossible.
“Here she comes!” cried John, as the rain descended71 in torrents72. “Let the stable go. Run for the back door!”
In another moment they were under cover.
“We’ll have to knock!” shouted Jack, raising his voice above the storm.
“Yes. But wait a minute; there’s one place we didn’t look.”
John fumbled73 for his flash and turned it on, pointing it out into the rain. Jack could not see a yard through the downpour, but he was suddenly aware that John was referring to the sloping door which covered the steps leading from the cellar out into the yard at the rear of the tea-room.
“Ye Gods!” cried Jack. “I never thought of it. And it’s never locked—the bolt’s off!”
“But we mustn’t go in from the outside. It’s too much of a risk. We’ll get the fellows to let us in; then we’ll go down from the inside. If there’s anyone down there, they could never get away so fast that we won’t get them.”
“Right!” agreed Jack.
“We were just thinking about going out to look for you two,” said Dick Roberts. “What news?”
“None! The rain cut short our search.”
“Some rain!”
“A couple of you fellows watch that back cellar-door,” said John. “We’re going to look down there.”
Leading the way, and followed by Jack and the others, he descended the cellar-stairs from the hall, holding his flash-light before him. He felt a chill run up and down his spine75 as he entered that gloomy place. But an intruder, had there been one, would have been up against it, opposed to these youths, each armed with flash-light and revolver.
They made a thorough search, and not discovering anything, went upstairs again, where the two boys watching the back door reported that no one had made an exit that way. John and Jack removed their wet outer clothing, and wrapped up in blankets, while the others built up a hot fire with which to dry them.
“We might as well all stay up now; it will be light pretty soon,” remarked Dick. “And we could never sleep through this storm.”
“Four o’clock,” announced Bill Warner, after looking at his watch.
“What did you fellows hear?” asked Dick.
The two adventurers grinned rather sheepishly.
“Ghosts! I guess the place is haunted after all,” admitted Jack, reluctantly.
“What gets me,” said John, “is this: what explanation are we to make to the girls in the morning?”
“None!” cried Jack. “They’d have the laugh on us! Don’t tell them anything. Tell ’em we never slept better in our lives!”
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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gee
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| n.马；int.向右！前进！，惊讶时所发声音；v.向右转 | |
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muddled
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| adj.混乱的；糊涂的；头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的过去式)；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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arbor
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| n.凉亭；树木 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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prostrate
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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gene
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murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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drowsiness
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| n.睡意；嗜睡 | |
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cavern
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| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
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cram
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| v.填塞，塞满，临时抱佛脚，为考试而学习 | |
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smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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flickering
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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expectancy
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noted
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drawn
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standing
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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sneaked
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| v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 )；偷偷溜走；（儿童向成人）打小报告；告状 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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conducive
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| adj.有益的，有助的 | |
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analyzed
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| v.分析( analyze的过去式和过去分词 )；分解；解释；对…进行心理分析 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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54
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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pry
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| vi.窥(刺)探，打听；vt.撬动(开，起) | |
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shutter
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| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
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awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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crunched
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的过去式和过去分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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trickle
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| vi.淌，滴，流出，慢慢移动，逐渐消散 | |
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peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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torrents
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| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
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73
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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