The Mystery of Jockey Hollow Part 33

"Oh!" gasped Dorothy. "What is it? Who is she?"

"Must be that Viney Tucker, cousin of Granny's," exclaimed Harry. "But what was she doing up here? We must have frightened the wits out of her.

And I'm afraid something has happened."

He hurried into the room, followed by Dorothy. The closet door was open and their lights, flashing within it, revealed a square hole in the floor-a square hole opening into a smooth wooden chute that curved downward and into the darkness. And from that darkness now came up faint moans.

"This is awful!" cried Dorothy. "What have we done?"

"We haven't done anything, but I think we have made a big discovery!"

said Harry. "This trapdoor explains how Jim got into the cellar and I think that's where we'll now find Mrs. Tucker. She has been caught in her own trap!"

By this time the Christmas guests in the room below had come running out with their flashlights, calling up to know what was going on.

Harry hurried down the stairs, followed by Dorothy.

"The ghosts!" screamed Terry, pointing a trembling finger at them.

"No!" Harry shouted for he wanted to prevent any more hysterical outbursts. "It's just a little joke Dorothy and I started, but I'm afraid it is far from a joke now."

"What do you mean?" asked Granny Howe in a strained voice. "And where did you get those clothes?"

"We'll explain it all in a moment," answered Harry. "But just now I think we had better see about your cousin, Mrs. Howe."

"You mean Viney Tucker? What's the matter with her? Who did that awful screaming just now?"

"Mrs. Tucker; and I am afraid she has fallen down a secret pa.s.sage into the cellar."

"Oh, how terrible!" gasped Arden.

"But what does it all mean?" Sim exclaimed.

"I think," said Harry, "it means the end of the ghosts in the old Hall.

Come along, any of you who wish to-if you aren't afraid-but perhaps d.i.c.k and I--"

"We'll all come!" declared Granny bravely. "Poor Viney! She wouldn't attend the Christmas party with me. She must have taken a sudden notion and come over by herself-but a secret pa.s.sage to the cellar-I don't understand!"

"We'll have it all cleared up soon, I think," Harry said. "There must be an inside way into the cellar, isn't there?"

"I'll show you," offered Granny. "It's at the back of the hall, and there's also one leading out of the old kitchen. The hall way is nearer."

They found Viney Tucker lying in about the same place where Betty had discovered Jim Danton. The grim old lady in the black cloak was faintly moaning. Harry bent over her and made a hasty examination.

"Not badly hurt, I should say," was his verdict. "Just stunned-and very badly frightened."

"What frightened her?" asked Arden.

"I'm afraid we did," Dorothy confessed.

"What in the world possessed you two to sneak off and put on a masquerading act like this?" asked Sim.

"We'll explain everything in a few minutes," answered Harry. "Just now we must get Mrs. Tucker upstairs. Here, d.i.c.k, you take this awkward long-tailed coat," and he slipped off the one that had formerly covered a soldier. "I'll carry Mrs. Tucker."

CHAPTER XXVIII Falling Stones

Picking up the old lady in his arms (and now she appeared to be reviving), Harry Pangborn, preceded by Sim and Betty with flashlights gleaming to show the way, started for the stairs. The others followed, Arden and Sim bringing up the rear.

Suddenly from behind them sounded a grating, rumbling noise. They turned in surprise and some fear, just in time to see several stones fall out of the old chimney that was part of the fireplace above. The chimney had its foundation on the bottom of the cellar.

Out toppled the loose stones, falling with a crash that brought nervous screams from Terry and Dorothy.

"What happened?" Harry called back, pausing with his burden.

"Looks as if the old place were falling apart," d.i.c.k answered. "The chimney is crumbling. Perhaps we had too hot a fire on the hearth. I guess we'd better get out of here."

"That chimney will never fall!" declared Granny Howe. "It was built to last forever, and will, unless it's torn down. There is no danger."

Arden paused to flash her light within an opening revealed by the falling stones. It was a smooth recess in the great stone chimney, not a rough aperture such as might happen by accident if some of the stones had merely crumbled away. It was only the few small outer stones, what, virtually, const.i.tuted a door to the hidden chamber, that had toppled away revealing a secret place.

And a hiding place it was, as Arden discovered a moment later when her light flashed and gleamed upon a small metal box within.

"Oh, look! Look what I've found!" she cried. "It's a metal chest hidden away."

"Bring it upstairs and we'll have a look!" called Harry.

Arden put her hand in and grasped the box. But it resisted her first effort to wrench it out.

"I'll help you," offered d.i.c.k.

Together they pulled, and the box came forth. It was about a foot long, eight inches in width and about six in depth. It was closed by a heavy bra.s.s padlock.

Their first care, on reaching the warm and light room where the Christmas party had come to such a strange end, was to put Viney down on an improvised couch and give her some hot coffee. She had regained her senses, but a great fear and wonder seemed to be upon her.

"Have they-have they gone?" she faltered.

"Who?" asked Granny.

"Those real ghosts-the ghosts I used to be myself."

"Viney, have you been up to ghost tricks here in Sycamore Hall?" Granny's voice was stern.

Viney Tucker looked up, more defiant now. She was rapidly recovering from her fall, which was not so much of a fall as a slide down a smooth wooden chute. It wasn't the ash-chute, but one forming part of a secret pa.s.sage, as they learned later.

"Yes," Viney confessed, "I was the ghosts. But I'll never be one again. I did it to save the Hall for you, Hannah. I remembered the old stories of Nathaniel Greene and Patience Howe. And when I found you were going to be cheated out of the money you should have had for the sale of this property I decided to stop it from being demolished if I could. So I secretly made a red cloak, and from a masquerade costumer in a distant city I got the Continental soldier's uniform. I hid them away here in the chest. At times I would slip in here and scare the workmen, by pretending to be either dead Patience on the bed or the tramping soldier, with a red rag around my head and my hat pulled down over my face. It worked, too!"

she said, not a little proudly.