Kitabı oku: «The Motor Girls at Camp Surprise: or, The Cave in the Mountains», sayfa 8

CHAPTER XX – MORE HAPPENINGS

Walter considered the matter rather judicially before answering. Then he gave as his decision:

“No, I can’t say that I do. It is, perhaps, only a coincidence that your automobile and your flashlight should have been taken. I dare say that had it been a light belonging to any one else it would have disappeared just the same.”

“You mean that they – the mysterious They – would have taken the light, no matter to whom it belonged?” asked Jack.

“Exactly! It was a case of wanting a light and taking it.”

“But how did they get in to take it?” asked Paul. “There’s no sign of anything having been broken; is there – no doors or windows?”

“We didn’t look,” Cora said.

“Then that’s what we’d better do,” Jack suggested.

But an examination did not show that any means had been used to force a passage from without. The windows were provided with screens which fastened from within in such a way that force would have to be exerted to slip them. And this had not been done. Nor had the door been tampered with.

“There’s only one way to account for it,” said Walter, “and that is on the theory that the Surprisers, Ghosts, They – whatever you choose to call them – used skeleton keys. And they must be professional burglars, or they would have made noise enough to have aroused you girls. You didn’t hear anything; did you?”

Not one had heard a sound.

“But if they were professional thieves wouldn’t they have taken something else besides a flashlight?” asked Jack. “There’s plenty of other things they might have picked up.”

This was true enough, for the girls had left many of their more or less valuable belongings downstairs. But none of them had been taken.

“Perhaps they just needed Cora’s light to help them in some of their other surprise visits,” suggested Bess. “Isn’t it most delightfully mystifying?”

“I don’t know that I find it especially so,” retorted Belle, with a quick glance over her shoulder. “It’s getting on my nerves.”

“Well, you can quit and go away when you want to,” suggested her sister.

“Never!” cried Cora. “We’re not going to desert in the face of danger; are we, Belle?”

The slim twin hesitated a moment, and then answered, but not very decidedly:

“No.”

“I knew you wouldn’t,” said Jack’s sister. “We Motor Girls aren’t cowards.”

“We give you credit for that,” declared Walter.

In spite of the brave front of Cora and her chums, the happenings at Camp Surprise were getting on their nerves. The boys, true to their promise, began to plan to do their own cooking; but in view of the fact that the oftener they were in the girls’ bungalow the better Cora and her chums liked it, it was decided to have the boys take all their meals with the girls. Jack, Walter and Paul would merely sleep in the smaller building, where they were in close call by means of the telephone.

For the next two days nothing happened. No more articles were missed, and the furniture remained where it was put. Then came two or three days when our friends were off on long picnics, remaining all day, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Floyd in charge. Nor on these occasions did anything happen. The bungalow was as peaceful when they returned as when they left.

“I guess it’s all over,” said Cora, when nearly a week had passed, and there had been no more manifestations. “It was a flashlight they were looking for all the while, and, now that they have it, they are satisfied.”

“It might be,” admitted Belle. “I hope it is.”

There were happy days in the mountains. Sometimes the young folks would wander far afield or through the woods, taking their lunches and staying all day. Again they would go berrying or fishing. And they did not get lost again, for the boys became familiar with the lay of the land. Cora, too, as well as Belle and Bess, got her bearings, and knew how to find the back paths.

Fishing formed a pastime that all enjoyed, for the streams and ponds in Mountain View were private property, and had not been depleted of their finny inhabitants. So fish formed many a dainty dish for the table.

It was one day when Mr. Floyd had gone in to town, and Mrs. Floyd had departed to one of the more distant bungalows to get it in readiness for occupancy, that Cora and her friends again went on a little trip to the small lake which once before they had visited.

“And make sure everything is well locked,” Belle advised, as they started away, boys and girls together.

Windows and doors were seen to, though no one had more than a faint suspicion that any unbidden visitors would call. They got back rather early in the afternoon, for a thunder shower was threatening, and as Jack opened the door and looked in the living room, he called out:

“All serene. They haven’t been here this time.”

“That’s good,” said Belle. “I guess we’ve broken the hoodoo.”

But when Cora and Hazel went upstairs there came simultaneous cries of surprise from them.

“Oh, Cora!” cried Hazel. “Look at my room!”

“And look at mine!” Cora added.

“What’s the matter?” asked Jack from below.

“Everything!” answered his sister. “They’ve been up here, Jack!”

“Who?”

“The Surprise, of course. Our rooms are all upset.”

“Is anything taken?” asked Jack, who, with the others, came up to look at the strange evidences left by the mysterious visitors.

“We can’t tell yet,” said Cora. “Oh dear! what does it all mean?”

No one answered for a moment, but Belle and Bess looked half-fearfully about, as though even then they might be standing in the presence of some unseen creature.

CHAPTER XXI – A DANCING LIGHT

“This is getting to be the limit of patience!” exclaimed Jack a bit wrathfully, as he looked at the disordered rooms. “Why can’t we do something?”

“We could, if we knew what to do,” said Walter. “But you can’t fight nothing with something.”

“It is very intangible,” said Cora. “Oh, all my pretty things scattered about!”

“Look and see if anything is taken,” suggested Paul. “If we can find out what is missing – I mean the character of the things – we can get a better line on who might have taken them. So far, the flashlight indicates regular burglars.”

For a time the girls were so put out, and so nervous over what had happened, that they could not ascertain what, if anything, was missing.

Then Cora began to reckon up her belongings, and found that a number of articles had been taken. Hazel found the same misfortune had visited her.

“There are lots of my things gone,” said Cora.

“What?” asked Walter, producing pencil and paper. “Let’s get at this systematically.”

“Oh, well, there are lots of things you – you wouldn’t understand about,” said Cora, blushing slightly.

“That’s true enough,” Walter admitted with a smile. “You are not on the witness stand, so you needn’t mention face powder, nose rings – ”

“Well, I like that!” cried Cora. “As if we used face powder!”

“Just for that he will have to eat at the second table,” pronounced Hazel.

“Come on!” challenged Jack, laughing. “Get down to business. What sort of things are missing, Cora?”

“Girls’ things, of course,” said his sister. “We didn’t have much else up here.”

And that, it developed, was what was missing. Trinkets, some toilet articles, including a silver-mounted set belonging to Cora which Jack had given her the previous Christmas, were gone. Hazel lost a silver-backed mirror and a box full of bright ribbons.

“Well, this beats me!” said Walter with a puzzled air, as he looked at the list he had made. “They took some things they may possibly dispose of at a pawnshop, but why grown men burglars should want hair ribbons, or neck ribbons, or whatever ribbons they are, gets me.”

“What makes you think they were men?” asked Belle.

“Who else would it be?”

“Well, we first had a theory that the upsetting might have been done by boys,” said Cora.

“Yes, that theory would fit, under certain circumstances,” agreed Walter. “So would the taking of the flashlight. Almost any boy would have been glad to get that. But what boy would take a lot of pretty ribbons, even though he were enough of a criminal to know that he might be able to dispose of the silver-mounted toilet articles? It doesn’t jibe.”

In the main, they were forced to agree with Walter.

“Well, the fact remains that we have had another visit from the unknowns,” concluded Walter, “and what are we going to do about it?”

For a moment no one knew what to say. And then, as brains were busy with the mystery, several schemes were offered.

“Put some animal traps about and catch the intruders,” said Jack.

“One of us stay and watch, while the others go away,” was Paul’s contribution.

“Sprinkle talcum powder on the floor, and then we can track them by the marks,” offered Hazel.

“Not such a bad idea,” declared Jack, as the others laughed. “It has been known to work.”

“Call in the police,” came from Bess.

“Pooh!” scoffed Cora. “If they couldn’t get back my automobile they can’t find mysterious thieves who enter through locked doors or windows, and vanish into thin air with their ill-gotten gains.”

“Let – let’s go home!” faltered Belle.

“Nonsense!” cried Cora. “We’ll stick it out. It is just getting interesting.”

“That’s all right,” announced Belle, “but suppose – suppose they come in the night, when we’re asleep, and take one of us?”

“Let them begin on Bess,” suggested Jack, with a laugh. “No offense, of course, fair one,” and he bowed, “but you know you could give a good account of yourself if some one did try to walk off with you.”

“Don’t dare suggest such a thing!” cried the plump twin. “I’d never go to sleep if I thought they’d come at night.”

“They do seem to confine their visits to daytime, and to the periods when we are away,” said Cora.

“Which makes it look, more than ever, as if they watched the bungalow and knew just when to take advantage of our absence,” commented Paul.

“Oh, don’t say that!” begged Belle. “Just think – they – they may be watching now!”

“Well, if they are let’s go and see if we can rout them out,” suggested Jack. “There aren’t many places of concealment about the bungalow.”

While the other girls helped Cora and Hazel put to rights the upset rooms, the boys made a thorough search outside. There did not seem to be any place where the mysterious persons might conceal themselves in order to spy on the bungalow. There were trees all about, but the underbrush had been cut away, and there was small chance for concealment. The boys also started to make an inspection about their own bungalow, but this was cut short by a shower that came up.

“Well, so far, we are just about where we started,” said Jack, as he and his two chums were eating supper with the girls that night. “We haven’t found out anything.”

“But we will!” declared Cora. “I’m not going to be beaten this way. We’ll organize a campaign.”

They talked to this end, making a tentative plan that the next time they went off on a trip, some member of the party would be left behind in concealment in the bungalow, to see, if possible, who the visitor or visitors were.

“And if that doesn’t work we’ll try something else,” said Walter.

It was evident, though, that after the first few trials the new plan was not going to work. Though the boys took turns in remaining in concealment while the others went away, not a sound or sign of disturbance was noted. No furniture was misplaced, and nothing was taken.

“We’ve got to have a new scheme,” said Cora. “Let’s talk to Mr. and Mrs. Floyd about it. Maybe they can suggest something.”

But the caretaker and his wife had nothing to offer. They were as much worried and disturbed by the queer happenings as were the girls and boys. And though they were generous and kindly souls, they were not quick thinkers, and had little imagination.

“It’s just spirits,” said Mrs. Floyd. “Spirits come and go.”

“There aren’t any such things,” declared Cora.

“Maybe it’s lightning,” suggested Mr. Floyd. “We have pretty heavy thunderstorms up here.”

“Lightning can’t move furniture, nor carry off looking glasses and hair ribbons,” Cora went on.

“Well, once lightning struck Jim Dobson’s cabin,” the caretaker said, “and knocked all his pots and pans off the stove, and burned a hole right through his clock.”

“That’s within the bounds of possibility,” admitted Jack.

“It’s boys!” decided Walter. “You’ll find that some youngsters are up to these tricks, and they’re cute enough to cover up their tracks.”

“That’s it,” said Paul. “They’re too cute. They don’t leave any tracks. How they get in and out again, without leaving a clew or a mark is more than I can see.” For an examination of the place after the losses suffered by Cora and Hazel had disclosed no apparent means of egress or ingress.

One evening when the girls had gone over to the boys’ bungalow to sit and talk, Cora, who had gone to the end of the porch, whence a view could be had of the other building, uttered an exclamation.

“There’s a light in our bungalow!” she called. “Did we leave one burning?”

“No,” answered Belle. “I put it out, as I was afraid of fire.”

“Well, one’s there now. See how it dances about!”

Indeed, a light could be observed, dancing up and down, flashing first from one window and then from another.

“It’s Mr. or Mrs. Floyd,” said Jack.

“They’ve gone to the village,” Paul said. “I saw them go.”

“It’s the mysterious visitors!” cried Walter. “They’re using Cora’s flashlight! Come on, boys, this time we have them!”

He ran toward the bungalow, followed by the others.

CHAPTER XXII – A MOUNTAIN CAVE

Advancing rapidly toward the girls’ bungalow, where so many strange happenings had occurred, and where even now the strange light was flashing, first at one window, then at another, Cora and her chums – boys and girls – speculated on what could be the cause.

“Let the boys go first,” cautioned Belle. “We don’t know what it might be.”

“That’s right! Wish the danger on to us!” commented Jack. “But we’re not afraid.”

“It’s only those mischievous boys,” declared Paul. “We’ll catch ’em in the very act now.”

“But how did the little rascals get in without our seeing them?” asked Walter.

“We weren’t watching the bungalow very closely,” said Paul. “They could easily have slipped in from the back, around on the forest side. They watched their chance.”

“But what’s their game?” asked Jack, as they crossed the rustic bridge on the run, their footsteps echoing dully on the boards.

“Go easy!” cautioned Walter. “Don’t make so much noise, or we’ll scare them away before we have a chance to catch them.”

“They can’t hear us above the noise of the waterfall,” declared Jack. “But what’s their game? That’s what I want to know. Why are they flashing that light about so?”

“There must be two or three of them with lights,” said Cora. “For first I noticed it up in the window of my room, and a second later, certainly in less time than any human boy could make the trip downstairs, the light showed from a window in the living room.”

“Probably there are three or four of the little rascals,” said Walter. “Come on now, we’re almost there.”

“Wait here, girls,” suggested Cora. “Let the boys go ahead, though after they catch these mischief-makers I’ll feel like giving them a good shaking myself.”

Walter, Paul and Jack advanced toward the bungalow. They went softly up on the porch, looking sharply for a sign of the light.

“Seems to have gone out,” commented Jack in a whisper.

“Yes. They must have heard us and switched it off.”

“Probably they’ve skipped out, too, worse luck!” came from Paul.

Indeed, as they listened, they could hear no sound from the bungalow, at the door of which they now stood. All was silent and dark within.

“Got a match?” Walter asked.

“Take my flashlight,” returned Jack. “It’s stronger than Cora’s.”

The brilliant white beam of light from the electric flash which Jack handed to Walter illuminated the interior of the living room. And at the sight which met the gaze of the boys, they could not restrain murmurs of astonishment.

“Well, would you look at that!”

“Same thing over again!”

“And right under our noses too! They never made a sound!”

“What is it?” called Cora, from where she and her chums stood waiting. “Did you catch them?”

“Haven’t yet,” answered Walter, playing the light about the room. “But the furniture is all upset, just as it was the other day, only more so. Come on up, girls. I guess there’s no danger. The boys have probably skipped out, though we may get them yet. Jack, you go around to the side door. Paul, you cover the back. I’ll take a run through the bungalow and stir them up.”

Pausing to light a lamp in the living room, Walter ran up the stairs to the apartments of the girls, while Jack and Paul formed a guard outside the bungalow. The girls still remained a little distance away, awaiting developments.

But there were none – at least inside the bungalow. Walter came down stairs to report that no one was up there.

“But are things upset in our rooms?” asked Bess.

“And is anything taken?” Hazel questioned.

“I didn’t stop to look,” confessed Walter. “I was just trying to drive out intruders.”

“None came out the door I was watching,” declared Jack.

“Nor where I was,” said Paul.

“How in the world did they get away so quickly?” asked Walter.

No one could answer him and they all turned their attention to the living room.

As Walter had said, it was more upset than on the other occasion. Every chair in the big apartment had been overturned, and in some cases two were jammed together, the legs interwoven. On a table two chairs had been piled, while the couch was turned completely upside down, and a stool perched on top of it, a sofa cushion surmounting that.

Other sofa cushions were tossed about the room, as though the intruders had been having a pillow fight, and in fact the whole room had that appearance.

“But nothing seems to have been taken,” said Cora, after a look around, when the furniture had been put to rights.

“Better not be too sure,” cautioned Walter. “Wait until you take a look upstairs. I only glanced around.”

“How in the world could they do all this without making a noise?” asked Paul. “It seems to have been done in a hurry, and boys are rather clumsy – I know I was. They ought, by rights, to have stumbled all over themselves, doing this by the light of only a pocket flash. And yet we heard no racket as we ran up. It was all quiet.”

“That’s one queer part of it,” admitted Walter. “It almost makes one believe in – ”

“Ghosts! Go on and say it,” challenged Cora. “You can’t scare us.”

“Any more than we are frightened now,” said Belle.

“Are you frightened?” asked Jack.

“A little,” she confessed. “Wouldn’t you be – if you were I?”

“I might be,” he admitted. “But we’ll get at the bottom of this for you, and catch those youngsters.”

“If we only could be sure they were boys,” Belle murmured.

“Who else could it be?” asked Jack.

“Ask us something easier,” suggested Paul. “Go ahead upstairs, girls, and see if anything is missing.”

This advice was acted upon, and when the place was aglow with lights Cora and her chums took “an account of stock,” as Jack said.

“Well, any of your ‘war paint’ missing?” he demanded of his sister when she came down.

“Only a few little trinkets,” she said, “ribbons and things like that. If it were not impossible, I should say girls had a hand in this.”

“It isn’t impossible,” declared Walter. “Girls can do almost anything nowadays. But it isn’t likely. Some boys are just as fond of bright things as are girls, and probably these youngsters hope to make neckties of your ribbons.”

“Well, what are we going to do about it?” asked Jack, when they had sat discussing the curious happening for some time.

“What can we do?” Walter demanded.

“I know one thing I am going to do,” declared, Belle, “and that is I’m going home in the morning.”

“No!” cried Cora.

“I am if this mystery isn’t cleared up. It’s getting on my nerves horribly,” and she gave a quick glance over her shoulder as a slight noise sounded.

“I did that,” confessed Hazel, who had dropped a book.

“Don’t do it again, my dear,” begged Belle.

“Now look here!” cried Cora, “this won’t do. We’re going to stick it out. We agreed on that, you know. We’re going to find out what this mystery is.”

“That’s what I say!” came from Bess.

“I’m willing to stay,” declared Hazel.

“Well, since I seem to be in the minority I’ll have to give in,” sighed Belle. “I’ll stay if you all do, but I really think some one ought to be in this bungalow with us – one of the boys or – ”

“I’ll stay here,” came from Jack, Walter, and Paul in a trio.

But when Mr. and Mrs. Floyd returned from town, and heard of the strange happenings, they offered to sleep in a small room opening off the living apartment.

The night, however, passed without incident, though none of the girls slept well. Morning seemed to quiet the frayed nerves, and the happenings of the night before did not seem so mysterious in the glare of the golden sun.

The season for berries was at its height now, and as many varieties grew on the mountainside the young campers organized another expedition one day, about a week after the disturbance in which the light figured. Mrs. Floyd promised to bake the pies if the boys and girls gathered the berries.

They planned for an all day stay, taking their lunch, and early in the afternoon all berry baskets were filled. Then, as there were some ominous-looking clouds in the west, they decided to start for the bungalows.

They were about half a mile from Camp Surprise, on a new short cut which Mr. Floyd had mentioned, when Cora, who was hurrying along in the lead, slipped on a slight declivity and, to save herself from falling, grasped a bush.

The bush, however, offered little hold, for it came away in her hand, and Cora slid on, until she brought up on a level place. She looked back, to join the others in the laugh at her slight mishap, when her eyes noted the place from which the bush had pulled away.

“Why look! Look here!” she called to the others. “Here’s a regular cave!”

“A cave?” echoed Jack.

“Yes. There’s a big hole which I’d never have seen only the bush became uprooted. Come here!”

“Come on!” cried Jack. “Let’s see where this leads to. It may have something to do with the mystery.”

“What mystery?” asked Bess.

“What mystery? The mystery of Camp Surprise! Maybe the boys hide in this cave. Come on!”