The Rival Campers; Or, The Adventures of Henry Burns

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER VIII. THE HAUNTED HOUSE

  At four o'clock next morning, when Arthur Warren tried to rouse the otherboys, they were loath to turn out. It was warm inside, under theblankets, and the sea air outside was cool and damp. Out in the cockpitArthur lighted an oil-stove, which they always carried aboard, made thecoffee in a big pot, and set it on to boil. Then he called the sleepersin the cabin again.

  "Come you, Art, shut up out there! How do you expect any one can sleep,with you bawling out in that fashion?"

  This was from George Warren, whose voice denoted that he was only abouthalf-awake.

  "Don't want you to sleep any more," answered Arthur. "Want you to get upand fish."

  "Don't care to fish," said George, still only half-awake.

  "Well," persisted Arthur, "may I inquire what you did come over herefor?"

  "Certainly you may. I came over here to sleep. I like the air over here.Now, please don't disturb us any more, Arthur. You can be decent, youknow, when you've a mind to be." And with this request, drowsily mumbled,George pulled the blanket comfortably about him and settled back foranother nap.

  At this juncture, however, his brother poked his head in at thecompanionway and yelled at the top of his lungs:

  "Hulloa, there! Hulloa, I say! There's a school of mackerel breaking offthe point. Wake up, every lazy lubber aboard!"

  "Say, Art, you're a mean scoundrel," said George Warren, emerging oncemore from the blankets. "You know there isn't a mackerel in sight. I'llbe just fool enough to look out of the window, though, so you can laugh,so get ready." And George looked sleepily out of the little cabin window.

  He had no sooner done so, however, than he sprang up, exclaiming,excitedly:

  "There they are, sure enough. Boys, get up! Get up! There's a school ofmackerel breaking off the point, as sure as we're alive."

  The boys needed no further urging. They dressed and scrambled out ondeck. Not far away from the sloop could be seen plainly that tinychop-sea which is caused by the breaking of a school of mackerel. Thecalm surface of the water was broken there by a series of miniatureripples which could not be mistaken. The fish were there, but would theybite?

  "They are coming this way," said Arthur. "We can soon reach them with thethrow-bait. We shall not have to leave the sloop."

  Hastily they got the bait out. It was a bucket filled with scraps of fishand clams, chopped fine and mixed with salt water. Taking a long-handleddipper, Arthur half-filled it with the bait and threw it as far as hecould out toward the school of fish.

  The mackerel seized upon it greedily. From the sloop the boys could seethem dart through the water after it as it slowly sank. The water wasfairly alive with fish, ravenously hungry.

  "Hurrah!" cried Arthur. "They're hungry as sharks. Get the lines out,quick."

  In a twinkling every boy had a line overboard; but, to theirdisappointment, not a fish would bite. They still seized the throw-baitthat was cast out, but not one of them would take a baited hook.

  "If that isn't a regular mackerel trick, I'll eat my bait," said GeorgeWarren. "Cap'n Sam said mackerel would often act that way, though I neversaw them when they wouldn't bite before. He says they will play around aboat for hours and not touch a hook, and, all of a sudden, they'llcommence and bite as though they were starving."

  The boy's words were unexpectedly verified at this moment by a suddentwitch at his line and by corresponding twitches at all the other lines.The fish had begun biting in earnest. The next moment the boys had threeor four aboard, handsome fellows, striped green and black, changing to abluish shade, and soon the cockpit seemed alive with them.

  It was new sport for Tom and Bob, but they soon learned to tend twolines, one in each hand; to drop one and haul the other in at a bite, andto slat the mackerel off the hook with a quick snap, instead of stoppingto take them off by hand.

  The mackerel bit fiercely, sometimes at the bare hook even, like fishgone crazy. It seemed as though they might go on catching them all daylong, for the water was alive with them; but all at once the fish stoppedbiting as abruptly as they had begun. They still played around the boat,but not a fish would touch a hook.

  "We may as well put up our lines, boys. They are through biting for thismorning," said Arthur Warren. "Besides, we have more fish now than weknow what to do with."

  There was no doubt of that. They had caught several hundred of thefish--enough to supply the village.

  "We'll make friends with every one in town," said George Warren. "Theseare the first mackerel of the season, and we will give away all we cannotuse."

  "I feel as though I could eat about four now," said young Joe.

  "I can eat at least six," said Henry Burns.

  "We'll try you and see," said Arthur, producing an enormous frying-panfrom a locker and a junk of pork from another. "Tom, you're the boss cookof the crowd. You fry the fish while the rest of us clean up the boat,make things shipshape, and get ready to sail."

  "Ay, ay, sir," said Tom, rolling up his sleeves. "Let's see, four apieceis how many?"

  And soon the appetizing odour of the frying fish, mingled with that ofthe steaming coffee, saluted most temptingly the nostrils of the sixhungry boys.

  It was several hours after this, when the yacht was bowling along in thewestern bay, near the head of the island, before a fresh southerlybreeze, that young Joe said:

  "I know how we can play a stupendous joke on everybody in the village."

  Joe being the youngest of the brothers, and of the party, and it beingtherefore necessary that he should be occasionally squelched, Georgemerely said:

  "You don't think of anything, Joe, but playing jokes."

  "All right," retorted Joe, "seeing you are all so wildly enthusiastic,I'll just keep it to myself."

  "Nonsense, Joe, don't be huffy," said Arthur, whose curiosity wasaroused. "Tell us what it is, and if it is any good we'll try it, won'twe, boys?"

  There being an unanimously affirmative reply, young Joe proceeded.

  "Well," said he, "there's no risk at all about this. You know the oldfarmhouse on the bluff across the cove? Everybody in the village believesit is haunted. I found that out yesterday, when I was in Cap'n Sam'sstore. The house hasn't been lived in for two years, and not a soul inthe village has dared to go near it at night in all that time. If any ofthem had to stay over there all night, they would sleep out in the woodsrather than go into the house.

  "You see, the house belonged to a man by the name of Randall, CaptainRandall, who lived there with his wife. This was a little more than twoyears ago. He owned a little fishing-smack, in which he went short tripsdown the coast. One night in a storm he drove in on to the bluff; thesmack was pounded to pieces, and he was drowned. His wife died not longafter.

  "Since then, the villagers have thought the house haunted. They hearshrieks from there during the night, and think they see strange lights inthe windows. They were discussing it in the store yesterday. Cap'n Samdeclared that, only a few nights ago, when he was coming across the covefrom Billy Cook's, he saw the ghost of Captain Randall pass out of theback door of the old house and disappear in the woods.

  "Billy Cook, who lives up the cove, was in the store, too. He said he andhis wife hear screams come from there often in the night, especially whenit is storming; and two other villagers said they had seen lights in thewindows long after midnight.

  "That new boarder at Colonel Witham's was in there, too, Henry. He saidhe knew houses were haunted, and told several stories about ghosts, whichhe said were true. But I believe he knew they were lies, and he was onlyamusing himself; but that's nothing to do with the matter. The villagersseemed to believe all that he said.

  "Now, what I propose is, that we manufacture some brand-new ghosts forthem, some they have never seen before. There are some red and greenlights up at the cottage, that were left over from the Fourth of July,which we can burn inside the house, after letting out a few screechesthat will arouse the
village. Then we'll wrap sheets around us and runpast the windows, while the lights are burning. We'll have somethingwrapped in white to fling off the cliff, too, in a flare of light.

  "Then we'll run down through the woods and take everything with us. Andif we don't have some fun the next day listening to the ghost-storiesabout the village, why, my name isn't Joe, that's all."

  "That's not such a bad scheme, Joe," said George.

  "It's a daisy," said Henry Burns, "and easily done. What's to hinder ourgoing up there to-night and taking up the lights and the sheets andlooking the place over? I never was inside the old house myself, though Ihave been close to it at night, and never saw or heard of any ghosts. Wecan carry a lantern up with us and light it after we get inside. If anyone sees the light from the village he will think it's the ghosts walkingagain."

  "I don't like so much of this running around in the night," said Tom,flexing his biceps. "A fellow must have sleep to keep in condition, but Iguess they can count on us in this case, can't they, Bob? It's too goodto be missed."

  "You bet!" replied Bob. "We can turn in and sleep this afternoon. Countme in, for one."

  "Then," said George, "suppose we all start from our cottage at teno'clock to-night. We'll launch the rowboat from the beach and slip acrossand look things over."

  So it was agreed.

  The yacht had long turned the head of the island and was beating downalongshore in the eastern bay. Presently they rounded the bluff and cameinto the cove. It was nearly noon.

  High up on the bluff, and several rods back from the edge of the cliffs,was the old farmhouse; it stood out conspicuously, though at somedistance from the water-front, for the land rose quite sharply and thehouse occupied the top of the eminence. Around it, on all sides exceptthat facing the village, was a dark, heavy growth of hemlocks and pines.It was a mysterious, shadowy place, even by day; but when darkness set inabout it, standing off solitary and alone, as it did, from the rest ofthe village, with the waters lying between, it is little wonder thatsuperstition inhabited it with ghosts and that it was a spot to beshunned.

  At the outermost end of the cliffs that protruded into the bay, a ravine,where the ledge at some time had been rent apart, led from the water uptoward the cottage, affording a precarious pathway. There was a naturalstairway of rock for some distance from the water's edge, and at the endnearest the old house a series of clumsy wooden stairs led up from theravine to the surface of the bluff. These were now old and ratherrickety; but a light person, at some risk, could still use them.

  The villagers, as a rule, avoided the house and this pathway to thebluff. If they had occasion to go ashore there, they usually landedfarther up the cove at a beach, and walked through the woods at adistance from the house. No one cared to go very near it.

  When the sloop had come to anchor in the cove opposite the Warrencottage, the boys took a boatload of mackerel ashore, besides a basketfulin the canoe. They carried them around to every cottage in the village,and even to the hotel, though, as George Warren remarked, they would haveto get Colonel Witham out of bed some night in a hurry to make up for it.

  Certainly the village, supping that night on their catch, was inclined toforget and forgive them many a prank that had been stored up for futurepunishment.

  When Henry Burns made his exit across the roof that night, he made acareful survey before climbing out on it to see that the stranger was notthere. There were no signs of him, and Henry got away safely. Tom and Bobwere at the Warren cottage when he arrived. Everything was in readiness,and they all set out for the shore.

  "These clouds in the sky are favourable," said Tom. "If it was as brightas it was last night, we might have to postpone our trip. This mackerelsky, through which the moon shines dimly, is just the thing."

  "Everything seems to be favourable," added George, as they hurried downthe bank to the beach.

  And yet not quite everything, for, when they had reached the shore andcame to look for the boat, it was not there.

  "That's too bad," cried young Joe. "And we left it here at five o'clock,too, after washing it out thoroughly, because we had brought the mackerelashore in it."

  "Who could have stolen it?" asked Tom.

  "No one," replied Joe. "Nobody ever has a boat stolen in this harbour.Some one who wanted to cross the cove has borrowed it. We shall find itall right in the morning,--but that don't help us out now. It's provokingenough, and strange, too, after all, that the one who took it didn't stepup to the cottage and let us know, as the cottage is so near. But boatsare almost common property here; any man in the harbour would lend us hisboat in a minute."

  "We must do the next best thing," said Arthur, "and take one from theslip at the wharf. No one will want his boat at this hour."

  "Though some one does seem to want ours," broke in Joe. "Curious, isn'tit, that whoever it is should come around into the cove and get our boat,when there are any number at the slip?"

  It certainly was rather strange.

  Following Arthur's suggestion, the boys proceeded to the slip andembarked in a big dory, the property of Captain Sam. Then they rowedquickly across the cove.

  It took them but a few minutes to reach the other shore, for the cove wassmooth as glass. They headed for the bluff, and pointed directly into theblack, shadowy hole which they knew to be the natural landing-place. Itwas a peculiar, narrow little dock, completely rock-bound, except for thepassage leading into it. It lay entirely in the shadow, but they hadlanded there before, and knew just where to steer for a shelf, or ledge,of rock that made a natural slip.

  Still, their familiarity with the place did not prevent them from bumpingsuddenly into a rowboat that lay moored there. They pushed it aside tomake a landing, and found to their amazement that it was their own.

  "Hulloa!" cried George, springing out on to the broad, shelving ledge;"that is queerer still. Here's the old _Anna_, and what in the world isshe doing here? Who can have brought her? And what for? There's somethingstrange about it. Why, there isn't a man in the village that would darego near the haunted house at night, and yet somebody is over here now,for some reason."

  If it were possible for Henry Burns to be excited ever, he was so now.

  "Get in here, quick, George," he said, "and don't make any noise. I thinkI know what it means, and I'll tell you just as soon as we get out ofhere. We can't get away any too soon, either."

  "Why not take the _Anna_ out with us?" said young Joe, "and pay somebodyoff for running away with it? He would only have to walk a few milesaround the cove to get back again--"

  "No, no, leave the boat where it is," said Henry Burns. "And let's getout of here quick."

  "Why, what's the matter with you, Henry?" asked George, jumping back intothe boat and giving it a vigorous shove off. "Any one would think to seeyou that some one was being murdered up there."

  Henry Burns's earnestness was sufficient to convince them, however, thatsomething serious was involved in their actions, and they made haste toget out into the cove again.

  "Row for the beach above, boys," continued Henry Burns, "and we will goup to the old house through the woods. I think I know who is up there inthe house, and if I am right it means that we may make an importantdiscovery. The man who I think is up there is Mr. Kemble."

  "What! The cripple?" asked Tom.

  "This is another one of Henry Burns's jokes," said George. "You're havinglots of fun with us, aren't you, Henry?"

  "I tell you I am in earnest," said Henry Burns. "We won't burn any lightsto-night, and you better make up your mind to that, right off. There'smore serious business ahead of us."

  And then, when they had landed on the beach and had drawn the boatnoiselessly up on the shore, Henry Burns told them of the adventure hehad had on the roof of the hotel. How he had seen the stranger throw offhis disguise of weakness, and become, suddenly, a man of strength andaction; how he believed the man to be somehow connected with the thieveswho had committed the robbery, and how he believed that the man was nowup the
re in the haunted house, though for what purpose he could not tell.It might be he had something to conceal there.

  "Cracky!" exclaimed Tom, when Henry Burns had finished his story. "Thisbeats ghost hunting all hollow; but we are by no means certain that it isthis stranger who is up there."

  "No, but I believe as Henry does, that it is he," said George Warren."Who else would have any object in being up there this hour of the night?We know from what Henry saw that the man is dangerous, that he seems tobe in hiding--"

  "And that if he should catch one of us spying on him up there in the oldhouse, he wouldn't hesitate to shoot," interrupted young Joe, who wouldrather have risked the meeting with a legion of ghosts than with one reallive thief, armed and desperate.

  "That's true enough," answered Henry Burns; "but we must not give himthat opportunity, if it is he, which, of course, we're by no means sureof. At any rate, we want to see and not be seen by whoever is there, andwe cannot go any too quietly."

  Then, as the tide was rising, and they might be gone some time, theylifted the dory and carried it up out of the reach of high water, afterwhich they began the ascent of the hill. There was not a breath of windstirring, and there was not a sound of life in the woods. The tide creptin softly, and not even a wave could be heard on the shore.

  Out through the trees they could see, as they climbed, glimpses of thewater, calm and placid as a mill-pond, lit up dimly by the moonlightshining through a patchwork of clouds that covered all the sky. Beyondthis the darkness of the village was accentuated by a light here andthere, glimmering from the window of some cottage.

  Then they came to the brow of the hill, and could see the haunted housethrough the trees. They approached cautiously. It looked gloomier thanever, with its sagging, moss-grown roof, its shattered window-panes, andthe door in the side hanging awry from a single hinge.

  In what once had been the dooryard there were a few straggling clumps ofbushes, and thistles and burdocks grew in rank profusion.

  It was a sight to dampen the ardour of stouter hunters than this band ofboys. But when, added to all this, there suddenly flashed across one ofthe windows a ray of light, faint and flickering, but discernible to themall, and which the next instant disappeared, they halted irresolutely anddebated what they should do.

  It was finally determined that Henry Burns and Bob White should go onahead to the old house, while the rest waited at a little distance tillthey should reconnoitre. The two set off at once, while the others waitedbehind a clump of trees. They did not have to wait long, for the tworeturned shortly, telling them to come on softly. When within a few rodsof the house they dropped on their hands and knees and crept along.

  All at once the two ahead stopped and whispered to the others to listen.They heard noises that seemed to come from the cellar, which sounded asthough some one was digging in the earth. Then, as they came within rangeof a long, shallow cellar window, they saw the rays of a lantern.

  They crept up closely and peered in through the pane. There, in the damp,dingy, cobwebbed cellar of the haunted house, dimly lighted by the raysof a lantern, which stood on an old wooden bench, a man was working. Hehad his coat off and was digging in the ground with a spade, throwing upshovelfuls of the hard clay.

  The rays of light from the lantern were not diffused evenly throughoutthe cellar, but shot out in one direction, toward the spot where the manwas at work; and this because it was neither the ordinary ship's lantern,nor yet a house lantern, but a small dark lantern, such as a burglarmight carry on his person, with a sliding shutter in front.

  The man's sleeves were rolled up, displaying arms that were corded withmuscle, and on which the veins stood out as he worked. He handled thespade awkwardly enough, but made up in strength for his lack of skill.Presently he paused and looked up, and they saw that it was, as HenryBurns had prophesied, the stranger guest.

  A curious occupation for one who was cruising for his health! Indeed, helooked so little like a man that was weak and ill, and so much like onethat was powerful and reckless and devoid of fear, as the light of thelantern caused his figure to stand out in relief against the darkness,that, though they were six and he but one, had he seen them and sprungup, they would have fled in terror.

  Then, as he stooped down to grasp the lantern, they drew quickly backfrom the window. It was well they did so, for, taking up the lantern, theman flashed it upon the window-panes, and then, turning it in alldirections, threw the rays of light in all parts of the cellar and outthrough a window opposite. Then he set it down again; and it was evidenthis suspicions had not been aroused, for he resumed his digging.

  After a few minutes he threw down the spade and produced from thedarkness a small tin box, which they had not seen before, which hedeposited in the hole he had dug. Then he shovelled the earth back uponit, stamping it in with his feet, and so refilled the hole. The remainingloose earth he scattered about the cellar.

  The boys waited no longer, but crept back to the edge of the woods. In afew minutes they saw a faint flash of light through one of the windows inthe floor above, and presently they saw the man come out of the door inthe front of the house. He had extinguished the lantern and was stillcarrying the spade. As he walked quickly down the path to thelanding-place, he left the path and hid the spade beneath someunderbrush, after which he disappeared over the edge of the cliff.Finally they saw him out in the middle of the cove, pulling vigorouslyfor the other shore.

  "Well," said Henry Burns, as they watched him out of sight, "there arelots of sick men whom I would rather meet over here in the night-timethan that same Mr. Kemble."

  "He's as strong as a lion," said young Joe. "Did you see the veins standout on his arms as he worked? I felt like making for the woods every timehe straightened himself up, with that spade in his hand."

  "I don't believe any of us felt any too comfortable," said Tom, "thoughI'm sure I shouldn't be afraid to meet him in the daytime, with Bob andone of the rest of us. It's the influence of the night-time thatfrightened us. And he seemed to be right in his element in it."

  "Let's dig that box up and get away from here and discuss the matterafterward," said George. "It's getting late, and we don't want mother toworry. I'll get the spade." And he ran and brought it.

  They went into the haunted house then, groping their way in the darkness,for they had left their own lantern in the dory. They made their way tothe kitchen and found the cellar door, with some difficulty. Then, lestthe old stairs should be unsafe, they went down one at a time.

  It was an easy matter to unearth the box, though they worked in utterdarkness. When they had secured it, they refilled the hole and thenstamped the earth down as they had found it. This being done, they wereglad enough to get away from the house, to replace the spade beneath theunderbrush, where the man had hidden it, and hurry down to the shore.Launching the dory, they embarked, Henry Burns carrying the box, and,with George and Arthur Warren at the oars, they had soon crossed the coveand landed on the beach.

  There, too, was the _Anna_, drawn high up on shore, where the strangerhad left it. It was a large and heavy boat, and it must have requiredenormous strength in one man to drag it there.