<h3>THE MISSING GIRL</h3>
<p>"Who would ever think we could be frightened here?" asked Mollie.</p>
<p>"Yes, it's quiet enough now," replied Betty. "Not a sign of a ghost."</p>
<p>"Nor flashes of blue fire," added Grace.</p>
<p>"Nor hollow groans," remarked Amy.</p>
<p>The Outdoor Girls, with Mrs. Mackson and Mr. Blackford, had reached the
so-called "haunted mansion." The day was a sunny one, perhaps that added
to the lack of nervous fears they felt as they stopped the auto, and
entered the place. This time they had gone to the mansion proper, having
driven through what were once beautiful and extensive grounds. But they
had long since fallen into a tangle of weeds and shrubbery.</p>
<p>They had decided to explore the mansion itself first, and go from there
to the annex, as it might be called—the former abode of the housekeeper
and staff of servants the rich Mr. Kenyon once kept.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>During the week that had intervened, the keys of the place had been
secured from Mr. Lagg. He was delighted that the girls had finally
consented, through a chain of circumstances, to investigate the queer
manifestations.</p>
<p>"You'll do better than the boys, I'm sure," said the storekeeper.
"Anyhow, they've gone camping. Now find out what that ghost is, and—get
it out of there. I have received word from the doctors who want to use
the place as a sanitarium, that if I cannot, within a week, deliver them
the property with a guarantee that there will be no disturbances, they
will take another place."</p>
<p>"We will do all we can," promised Mollie.</p>
<p>They entered the old mansion. Truly it had been a magnificent place in
its day, and even now the hand of decay had touched it but lightly. With
a few repairs, some decorating, a cutting down of the trees that were
too thick about the place, it could be made into a most cheerful
sanitarium.</p>
<p>"And it's so big!" cried Grace, as she wandered about the spacious
rooms. But she had hold of Amy's arm, it might be noticed, and both
girls kept rather near to Mr. Blackford. He had come back <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'unsucessful'">unsuccessful</ins>
in his search for his sister.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Yes, it must have been fine here when the place was new," agreed
Mollie. "Well, let's go at this search systematically."</p>
<p>"That is the only way," spoke Mr. Blackford. "We might start in at the
top and work downward."</p>
<p>They did this, ascending by means of the grand staircase to the second
floor, and thence to the third and fourth. The latter contained but few
rooms, mostly for storage, it seemed, and it was soon evident that no
ghost—of the human kind at least—had been at work here. The dust and
grime of years had accumulated in the apartments.</p>
<p>The third floor offered no solution. This was rather larger in extent,
and contained many guest-rooms. Some showed evidence of having been
beautifully decorated, being paneled in tapestry that now hung in shabby
strips—a relic of former beauty.</p>
<p>It was not until the second floor was reached that anything like a
promising clue was found. Meanwhile many queer nooks and corners had
been explored. Mr. Kenyon had evidently built the house after his own
eccentric ideas, for it contained strange rooms, connecting with one
another by little, unexpected passages, short flights of stairs, and
many winding ways. Some<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</SPAN></span> of the rooms might well have been secret ones,
so strangely were they tucked away.</p>
<p>But in two apartments on the second floor—two rooms that had evidently
been choice guest chambers—the searchers came upon signs which
indicated clearly that some one had been in them recently. There was
less dust, and in one corner was a pile of bags and rags that seemed to
indicate a bed. On the hearth—there were big fireplaces in each
room—were ashes that had been hot not many days gone by.</p>
<p>"Tramps!" exclaimed Mr. Blackford. "To my way of thinking tramps have
been sleeping here."</p>
<p>"Do you think the ghost was a tramp?" asked Mollie. "The one who caught
me?"</p>
<p>"He may have been."</p>
<p>"But why was he all in white?"</p>
<p>"Probably to keep up the illusion. We haven't gotten to the bottom of
this yet. Let's keep on."</p>
<p>But aside from the two rooms no others in the big mansion showed signs
of habitation. All were gloomy and dust-encumbered. On the first floor
nothing was discovered, and the cellar yielded no clues.</p>
<p>"Well, all we have established so far," said Mr. Blackford, "is that
someone has been sleeping here. Now let's keep on to the annex, and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</SPAN></span> see
if we can establish a connection. It may be that the secret is there."</p>
<p>They found the passage that led from the mansion to the house in which
so much had happened to them that stormy night. There was a room in the
main house, whence the passage began, and this room, too, showed signs
of having been used recently.</p>
<p>And when they came to the place where the girls had dined so
unexpectedly they saw unmistakable signs that other meals than the one
they had helped themselves to had been eaten there.</p>
<p>"Our friend, the ghost, has been here since," said Mr. Blackford.
"Perhaps we shall have to set a trap for him."</p>
<p>They walked on, their footsteps echoing and re-echoing through the
silent old house. They were in the annex now, but a search there
revealed nothing.</p>
<p>The girls looked at one another, and then at Mr. Blackford. He shook his
head.</p>
<p>"I confess I am baffled," he said. "I did hope to find something. But we
haven't come across it. If there was a systematic effort to give the
impression that this mansion was haunted, there would have been some
evidences of it.</p>
<p>"I mean we would have some material evi<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</SPAN></span>dence. There would have to be
some way of producing that bluish light, that groaning sound and the
clanking of metal. But, unless the apparatus is more cleverly hidden
than I suspect, it isn't here."</p>
<p>"Then the only thing to do is to give it up, and confess ourselves
beaten," suggested Betty.</p>
<p>"I don't like to do that," spoke Mollie.</p>
<p>"Well, we can go over the place again," remarked Mr. Blackford slowly,
"but I don't see——"</p>
<p>He paused abruptly and seemed to be listening. The girls glanced at one
another curiously.</p>
<p>Then there sounded through the house a cry as of fear, and it was
followed by a heavy fall that jarred the floor.</p>
<p>Mr. Blackford sprang to the door, rushed down the hall, and a moment
later cried:</p>
<p>"Girls, come here!"</p>
<p>"Have you—have you found the ghost?" asked Betty.</p>
<p>"No, it's a girl, and she seems to have fainted."</p>
<p>"A—a girl!" faltered Mollie.</p>
<p>They all ran to where Mr. Blackford's voice sounded. It was in the very
room where Mollie had been held a prisoner. And there, in the center of
the apartment, supported in Mr. Black<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</SPAN></span>ford's arms, was a girl. At the
sight of her Betty cried:</p>
<p>"It is she! It is she! It is the girl who so strangely ran away from us.
The one who fell out of the tree! Carrie Norton!"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
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