The Mystery of Jockey Hollow Part 8

The girls said that they did not and began thanking her and a.s.suring her that no one would in the least object to their visit. They were all talking at once, so Granny smiled and held up a gentle restraining hand.

"You sound so alive and gay-I know what you're trying to tell me. It's all right. I'll enjoy having you. But now I must go back. We are baking today, and I stayed longer than I should have." She stood at the door as if indicating to them that they too must leave.

The girls were glad enough to walk out into the sunshine, and presently they climbed back into the car. Granny chuckled as they squeezed in and waved "good-bye" as Sim backed away.

"There, Dot, how did that strike you?" Arden breathlessly asked when they were safely on their way. "Do you still think it's a put-up job on our part?"

"Arden, I'm sorry," answered the girl. "I'm entirely convinced, and I'm on your side. Wasn't she fascinating?"

"Just like someone out of a play," Terry exclaimed. "Isn't it a shame?

Taking her own house and land away from her! If I were a ghost I'd come to her rescue, too! Even if I did have to break up a wrecking gang."

"What could those men have seen?" Sim wondered aloud. "They certainly were scared."

"When we get home we'll have to consider each person, the way detectives do, and reason out who would be likely to know, or be responsible for those manifestations," Arden suggested. "Shall we? Let's write it out-and see if we can solve the mystery systematically."

This suggestion met with whole-hearted approval, and all the rest of the way home the girls talked of the best method of "detecting." Sim stepped on the gas and bounced the girls unmercifully, she was so anxious to get home, but they clung together and didn't complain.

They had something new to do now and could hardly wait to begin. A first-rate mystery to be unraveled, in the most up-to-date detective fashion. It would be through the method of clues and eliminations of clues, and the girls were "all for it."

CHAPTER VII Trial by Jury

Sim's library was an ideal room for the girls to carry out their plan.

Seated at a large desk, where Sim's father often worked at night, Arden a.s.sumed the role of judge, or lawyer, they were not quite sure which.

Sim, Terry, and Dot, in varying positions of comfort, were perched around her.

Events had been too exciting to warrant "time out" for Dorothy to change from her traveling clothes, so she simply kicked off her shoes and gave Althea the keys to her bags. The unpacking would be accomplished swiftly and skillfully with everything put neatly away and any wrinkles completely ironed out.

Arden sat with pen poised and her face alight with eagerness, a dark-haired, blue-eyed Portia.

"Now we'll begin," she said. "Who was the first person to mention Sycamore Hall, and how can we connect him with the mystery?"

"I was," answered Terry. "I suggested that we ride by. I was tired of the old roads."

"Theodosia Landry, student," Arden wrote in a schoolgirl's hand, "suggested visiting spot. Of course, Terry, you knew nothing about the legend that the place was haunted?"

"I object." Sim sprang up. "That's a leading question. How do we know she didn't? Remember, we are all guilty until proven innocent."

"I'll ask it another way, then," Arden agreed. "Did you have any knowledge of ghost stories emanating from Sycamore Hall, the house in question?"

Arden was well pleased at the businesslike way in which she was conducting the investigation.

"Absolutely none, it was merely a coincidence," Terry replied and Arden penned her answer.

"Who next mentioned the house?" Arden resumed her role of detective.

"Richard Howe," Terry supplied. "He seemed surprised that we wanted to go there and didn't seem anxious to take us."

"Yes, and it was he who told us the house was haunted!" chimed in Sim.

Arden wrote down d.i.c.k's name and occupation and the charge against him.

"Next come the men running from the house when they frightened Sim's horse. Sim, what did they say they had seen?" Arden asked, busily writing, her head on one side and the tip of her tongue showing between her white teeth as she worked.

"d.i.c.k asked them what was the matter, and one said he wouldn't work there any longer. That he wouldn't stay where there were ghosts," Terry supplied promptly.

"What happened after that?" Arden asked. "I'm a little confused, things happened so quickly."

"I'll testify again," Terry exclaimed eagerly. "This is lots of fun. Then we went back to the house after calming our horses, and entered the living room."

"Where was Richard Howe then?" asked Dorothy from a deep armchair. "It seems to me you're losing sight of him. After all, he is the one who would want to keep the house standing."

"I don't remember whether he went in first or after we did," Terry answered, "but we were all together in the living room when we heard the noise."

"d.i.c.k said there were no workmen in the house when I suggested it might be they who were responsible for the manifestations, so apparently he knew we were alone there," Sim said. "It does seem as though he knows more than we think."

"We will each have to report what we were doing and what we heard as we were in the house. Your story comes later in the course of events, Dot.

You check up on us and ask questions when we leave anything out. Now--"

Arden took a deep breath. "Sim Westover, or, rather, Bernice," she corrected herself with a little giggle, "how about you?"

"I was standing near the door of the parlor leading to the hall when I heard a b.u.mp-b.u.mp-like someone coming downstairs. I became frightened and ran out," Sim stated simply.

"Terry?" questioned the youthful inquisitor.

"I was looking at the picture of the girl over the fireplace, and d.i.c.k was looking out the window. He had his back to the room," Terry told her story.

"And I," said Arden, "was near Terry, also looking at the picture when the noise came. My recollection is that Sim ran out first, then Terry and d.i.c.k, and I last. The noise was definitely louder when we left."

"But you didn't actually see anything?" Dorothy asked practically.

"No," Arden resumed, "we only heard it. When we got home, Moselle told us that she knew the men who had been working there and that they told her they had seen the figure. Do you suppose real detectives would consider that?"

"If we want to be very thorough we ought to look those men up and interview them," Dorothy decided. "But let's go on for the time being.

Don't I come next?"

"Dorothy Keene," Arden wrote and added: "student."

"I heard from the car hammering that suddenly stopped and then a cry. The men rushed out of the house. When I went upstairs I saw nothing," she remarked.

"The next people were the men who returned and the contractor. We can almost rule them out. It's Callahan's job to tear the place down," Arden went on, pushing a stray lock of dark hair out of her eye.

"Granny Howe appeared after that," Sim added. "Let me report about her, Arden."

"Proceed," Arden said with dignity.