<h3>QUEER MANIFESTATIONS</h3>
<p>Curiously enough it was gentle Amy who made a remark that saved the
day—or should I say night? For it was after dark.</p>
<p>As the girls literally shivered, following the exclamation of
Grace—shivered as much from the chilling rain as from the terror
induced—Amy said, with such a queer intonation:</p>
<p>"Do you suppose that door opened itself to invite us in?"</p>
<p>There was a moment of silence. Then Grace giggled, Betty caught her
breath in a gasp, Mollie went into a perfect gale of laughter, and
Cousin Jane—well, she said it herself afterward—she snickered.</p>
<p>"Amy, that's the most sensible thing I've heard since this series of
midnight adventures began," declared Mollie.</p>
<p>"And since the door did open to let us in, suppose we take advantage of
it," suggested Betty, "and go in."</p>
<p>"What—into the—the haunted house!" and Grace's voice was shrill.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Now see here!" began Betty, and her voice was as severe as she could
make it, for she recognized that now was the time to get the situation
well in hand. "This house is no more haunted than you are, Grace Ford."</p>
<p>"But—but——"</p>
<p>"'But me no buts,'" quoted Betty, merrily—as merrily as possible under
the circumstances. "We are going to be sensible—and—go in."</p>
<p>Suiting the action to the word she advanced into the hall, through which
the wind was now sweeping in rather mournful gusts. Mollie hesitated a
moment, and then followed her chum. The action of the two leaders with
the lanterns had a good effect on the others.</p>
<p>This might have been accounted for in two ways. The presence of Betty
and Mollie in the hall may have had its effect, or the kindly lights of
the auto, glowing so cozily, disclosed a shelter that, whatever its
disadvantages, at least afforded dryness.</p>
<p>Then, too, the taking away of the lights from the three of the party who
remained outside may have added to the effect. At any rate Grace stepped
into the hall, followed by Cousin Jane, and then timid Amy, finding
herself alone on the small porch, scurried in.</p>
<p>"Well, we're here!" said Betty, with a smile<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</SPAN></span>—rather a pale effort to
tell the truth, but a smile nevertheless. "Now what is the next thing to
do?"</p>
<p>"If we had only brought something to eat," sighed Grace. "And our
chocolate outfit!" for they carried one, with a small alcohol stove,
that they might make a hot drink when they stopped at noon for luncheon.</p>
<p>"No use crying over missing chocolate," said Mollie. "We're here, under
shelter, anyhow; and we can keep dry. Now if we can find anyone at home
we'll beg their hospitality for the night. Maybe they can get us a
meal—if we pay for it."</p>
<p>"There's no one living in this house—I'm sure of that!" declared Amy.
"Smell the musty odor—and—see——" she pushed open a door leading from
the hall, and directed Betty's hand so that the lantern flashed inside.
The room was bare and empty. "No one at all," she insisted. "The house
is deserted."</p>
<p>"Well, so much the better," declared Grace. "That is, if there are
no—no——" she did not finish, but looked around rather apprehensively.</p>
<p>"Ghosts—say it!" commanded Betty, sharply. "The oftener you use the
word the less it will frighten you."</p>
<p>"Look here!" exclaimed Mollie. "I don't<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</SPAN></span> believe we're in the—the
haunted house at all."</p>
<p>"Why not?" demanded Grace.</p>
<p>"Because this isn't at all like the kind of a house a millionaire would
build. It's—common. You can see for yourselves."</p>
<p>It did indeed seem so.</p>
<p>"But we were close to the end of Shadow Valley, where Kenyon's Folly was
built," insisted Grace, "and we turned in nearer to it when we took that
cross-road. I'm sure it's the place."</p>
<p>"Well, it's a queer thing to be insisting that you are in a haunted
house," remarked Betty, "but I am beginning to believe now that we are
not. At least I agree with Mollie that this doesn't look at all like the
place called Kenyon's Folly."</p>
<p>As the storm thundered and roared about them the girls looked around the
hall and room. Truly it was but a poor structure, much fallen into decay
now, yet at heart it was sound. Paint and decoration would do much to
restore it.</p>
<p>"I think I can explain it," said Amy.</p>
<p>"Do then," begged Grace.</p>
<p>"Don't you remember, Mr. Lagg told us that there was a housekeeper's
residence built to connect with the main structures?" she said. "There
is a sort of covered passage, I believe, that goes to the main castle,
as it were."</p>
<p>"Then the real haunted house must be—back<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</SPAN></span> there," and Grace pointed
toward where they had observed the thick trees.</p>
<p>"Yes. We are only in the—annex," said Betty. "But it suits me."</p>
<p>"If we only had something to eat and drink we would—annex that,"
observed Grace. "I'm starved!"</p>
<p>"Let's have a look around, anyhow, as long as we are here," suggested
Mollie. "We may as well stay here for the night——"</p>
<p>"For the night!" cried Grace.</p>
<p>"Yes. Where else can we go? I'm not going out in that storm again if I
can help it. We're dry here, at least. Just listen to that rain!"</p>
<p>"It's coming down in torrents!" exclaimed Betty. "We simply can't go
out."</p>
<p>"And it will give us something to do to explore a bit," added Mrs.
Mackson. "Come along girls. Who knows but what we may find a table all
set for us by fairy hands, as we used to read of in the story books?"</p>
<p>They paused for a moment. Not a sound came from the rooms and passage
about them. Only the storm raged outside.</p>
<p>"Well, let's—let's——" began Mollie.</p>
<p>"Oh, come on!" cried Betty, as her chum hesitated. "At least we have
lights."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"And I'm going to take off my wet coat," said Grace.</p>
<p>"Oh, if we could have a fire!"</p>
<p>"There's a fire place," said Betty, flashing her lamp into the room the
door of which Amy had opened. "And, I do declare, some old boards and
boxes! Why can't we have a fire?"</p>
<p>The idea appealed to all of them, and presently, taking heart, they
entered the room, and piling some boxes, splintered boards and papers on
the old hearth, set them ablaze.</p>
<p>As the ruddy flames leaped up the broad chimney they gathered about,
much cheered, though still hungry.</p>
<p>"If we only had something to eat," sighed Grace. "I wonder, if by chance
the former inhabitants left some morsels of food? Suppose we take a
look?"</p>
<p>The others hesitated a moment, and then Mollie said:</p>
<p>"I'm with you!"</p>
<p>She caught up the still-glowing auto lamp, and led the way, the others
following.</p>
<p>"Up stairs; or down stairs?" she challenged.</p>
<p>"Or in my lady's chamber?" completed Betty, with a laugh.</p>
<p>They went <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'thurogh'">through</ins> various rooms. All were deserted. Here and there they
saw discarded and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</SPAN></span> broken furniture. But there was no sign of recent
habitation. The house was musty and damp, but they were glad of shelter
from the storm.</p>
<p>"Only my poor auto!" sighed Mollie. "I hope nothing happens to it."</p>
<p>"It can stand the weather," said Grace. "What is beyond here, I wonder?"
she said, as they came to a pause before a closed door.</p>
<p>"Let's look," suggested Betty.</p>
<p>Like other portals in the house this one was not locked. Betty pushed it
open, and a long passage was <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'releaved'">revealed</ins>.</p>
<p>"The way to—the haunted house!" exclaimed Mollie, rather dramatically.</p>
<p>"Hush!" begged Grace.</p>
<p>"Silly!" admonished Betty. "Come on."</p>
<p>She plunged into the passage. The echoing footsteps of the others
following could be heard. She came to another door, opened it, and gave
a cry of delight.</p>
<p>"Girls—supper!" she exclaimed, and, holding her light high up, she
flashed it on a collection of groceries. Boxes of sardines there were,
dried herring, crackers, some butter in a carton, a loaf of bread,
canned tomatoes and peaches, and with all some dishes—knives and forks,
spoons, and, most useful of all—a can-opener, and a corkscrew—and—a
bottle of olives!<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Oh joy!" exclaimed Grace. "The fairy prince has been here!"</p>
<p>"Grace!" remonstrated Amy, as her friend caught up the bottle of olives
and proceeded to open it. "We don't know whose they are."</p>
<p>"So much the better; our consciences won't trouble us. And if anyone
comes to claim them we can pay for what we eat—I have money!" and she
jingled her silver purse, "And now, 'let good digestion wait on
appetite, and health on both,'" she quoted. "Fall to!"</p>
<p>The girls laughed, but they did "fall to." Cans and tins were opened,
crackers and slices of bread spread, and with peach juice to drink, for
they did not like to draw any water, fearing it might not be fresh—they
ate—and ate—and ate again.</p>
<p>"Oh, how good I feel!" cried Grace, as there came a pause.</p>
<p>"But how in the world do you imagine this stuff got here?" asked Amy.</p>
<p>"Why seek to inquire?" spoke Mollie. "That it is here is sufficient for
me. Another olive, Betty, dear?"</p>
<p>"The—our friend the ghost may have provided it," said Grace.</p>
<p>"You are coming on bravely," commented Betty. "If you will——"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>She paused—they all did—mouths half opened. For from somewhere in the
structure came a hollow and terrifying groan, and then followed the
unmistakable sound of clinking metal, while a bluish light flashed
around them. Then came another long-drawn cry—a shrill, eerie wail, and
both their lights went out, leaving them in total darkness, while the
storm shrieked about the old house, rocking it, and swaying it as though
to tear it from its foundations.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
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