The Orchard Secret Part 24

"Wait!" she whispered.

"What is it?" they asked.

"Ye G.o.ds! Here comes Henny--our reverend chaplain! He mustn't see us here at this hour! Oh, what shall we do?"

Arden was in a panic of fear.

CHAPTER XVIII In Hiding

The tall, slim figure, like a black ghost in the white fog, was approaching with measured stride, characteristic of Rev. Dr. Henry Bordmust.

The three girls, toward whom he was unwittingly walking, looked wildly around for a place to hide. The platform was clear except for some benches, now holding only dripping fog drops.

"Inside--quickly! Perhaps he won't notice us!" whispered Arden.

"Perhaps he will, though, and we mustn't take a chance!" objected Terry.

"Don't forget, we're over here without permission."

Forward stalked the tall black figure, splitting the fog into damp, swirling ma.s.ses of mist as he trudged along.

"Come on, girls!" hissed Sim. "He's almost here! We can hide in the baggage room at the end of the station."

Quickly the girls scurried around the corner of the building toward the baggage room. Fortunately the door was open. Inside, showing beneath a small incandescent lamp, hung high, festooned with cobwebs and dust, were several trunks, valises, suitcases, and boxes. Some of the pieces of baggage and express seemed to have been forgotten, uncalled for or lost a long time. Dust was thick on them.

"It isn't very bright," whispered Terry. Which was true. The high little light only made the gloomy shadows and corners more gloomy. "I wonder if there are rats here?" Terry breathed in alarm.

"Oh!" gasped Arden. "Why do you have to think of things like that? Stop it!"

"Hush!" cautioned Sim. "I hear footsteps coming this way."

"Shut the door!" begged Terry.

Arden pushed it so that it was almost tight in the frame. There it stuck.

It would close no farther.

"Look!" she murmured. "The light will show around the cracks and the sill. We can't shut it off. Oh, what'll we do? If he comes in here he'll be sure to see us. We were better off outside. Then we could run and vanish in the fog."

"He may not come in here," spoke Sim hopefully.

"Oh, but he's coming--or someone is--right this way!" gasped Terry.

They were in real panic now--fluttering about seeking concealment. Once Arden and Terry b.u.mped together in their mad race around the little room, but they hadn't a giggle among them.

"Here--in here!" Sim suddenly hissed from a distant corner. "I've found some kind of a big packing box with a hinged cover like a trapdoor. We can hide in that."

"Can we all get in?" asked Terry. "I don't want to be left standing outside like this."

"I think we can make it," Sim answered. "We must try, anyhow. Here, Arden----" She held out her hand, and Arden grasped it. "Now, Terry! I'll guide you. It's very dark in this corner, but I can make out the box.

I'll climb in first and you two follow."

Terry and Arden half heard, half saw Sim partly climb and partly fall over the side of a great box in one corner of the dim room.

"Come on, Arden," Sim urged. "It's easy."

Arden put one leg over the side and raised herself up by her hands as if climbing a fence. As she did so there was a ripping, tearing sound.

"My good stocking and part of my leg, too! Oh, dear!" lamented Arden.

"Get in quickly. Never mind about that!" urged Sim. "All right. Cuddle down. Now, Terry!"

"Oh, this is awful!"

"Don't talk! Climb in! Shrink a little, Arden!" commanded Sim. "She thinks she's in bed and taking more than her half."

"I'm not!" Arden affirmed. "But I'll shrink all I can!"

"That's better," voiced Sim. "Now, Terry!"

"Here I come! Oh! Oh!" Her voice indicated lamenting terror.

"What is it?" Sim wanted to know.

"I can see out through the crack in the door. The station agent is headed right for this place, and Henny is with him. Oh, they'll find us, sure!"

"Not if we stoop down and keep still!" declared Sim. "Why don't you come in, Terry?"

"I can't! I'm caught--or something."

"Well, pull yourself loose! You've just got to!"

"Here goes!"

Again the ripping, tearing sound.

"My best skirt on a big nail!" sighed Terry. Then she flopped over the side and down upon Sim and Arden.

Despite the discomfort of their positions and the imminent danger of detection, Terry began to giggle. It was quickly infectious, and Arden and Sim held grimy hands over their mouths to stifle the dangerous sounds of hysterical mirth.

They could hear the voices of the chaplain and the station agent just outside the baggage-room door. They were surely coming in, the girls thought, though whether to detect the culprits or for some other reason could not yet be determined.

Suddenly Sim reached up and pulled down the large, hinged cover of the packing case. It was light but strongly made.

"Oh, we'll smother!" protested Arden in a whisper.