CHAPTER XXIII Mistletoe
There were many historic spots in Jockey Hollow. Arden had found out somefacts from the library book, and Dick knew others gleaned in variousways. As they rode along they talked about it all.
Dick pointed out rows of chimney stones where once had stood the log hutsthat housed the 10,000 men of Washington's army camped in the Hollow thatwinter of 1779. Washington himself had a mansion in a near-by town longfamous in history, Dick took pleasure in reminding them.
Dick located a grove of locust trees, shrouded now in white where, hesaid, several hundred men of the unfortunate Continental Army had diedand were buried along the banks of Primrose Brook which now was frozenover and covered with downy snow.
"Well, when they get the park laid out and finished," suggested Arden, "Isuppose they'll put up a bronze tablet somewhere around here tocommemorate the valiant men."
"A pity they can't keep the old Hall standing. That would be a finemonument," suggested Sim. "It could be a memorial hall."
"The Hall is doomed," said Dick sadly. "We have given up all hope." Heurged his horse ahead briskly.
"He doesn't know what you are going to tell Granny!" whispered Dorothy toHarry.
"I hope something comes of it," he remarked in a low voice. "At least,the whole matter will be thoroughly gone over, and if there is anythingin her claim, and any money due her that can be paid, my lawyers willarrange it. They are smart men, I am sure of that."
It was almost dark when the riders returned to Sim's house. Dick and theother groom went back with the horses. The ride had been enjoyable forall of them.
"Don't forget to let me know when you want to go out again," Dick calledwith gay freedom. "If I can get money enough for an education out of mycommissions from Ellery, that will be fine," he suggested as he rodehappily away.
Terry was eagerly waiting for her friends when they got back.
"What, no ghosts?" she exclaimed when they trooped in to tell her oftheir ride.
"Not a ghost--not even scolded by Viney Tucker. She should have told usthat we rode too long," laughed Arden. "Viney, by the way, is out of theway."
"Where?" Terry asked.
"Off visiting, so Dick says. Oh, but I'm hungry!" cried Sim. "Where isMoselle? You'll stay to dinner, of course, Harry?"
"Thanks, but I'm afraid I can't. I want to get in touch with the lawyerson the telephone, and Dr. Thandu, to make sure that there will be nohitch in the plans for Granny's Christmas party. And I shall probablyneed to put in calls and wait for answers. I'd be jumping up from thetable off and on. No, I'll go back to the hotel. I can phone nicely fromthere. But I'll keep this invitation in reserve, if I may."
"Of course. Any time. This will keep."
Terry's ankle was much improved by morning, though the doctor said shemust not yet step on it.
"In another day you may be able to hobble about the house on a cane," hehad said.
"She will be an invalid with a most interesting limp," declared Dot.
That day Harry telephoned to say that matters connected with the legalaspects of Granny's case were coming along most satisfactorily.
"You will be able to assure her at the Christmas party," he told Arden,"that she has the best chance she ever had to get something out of theestate. At any rate, if we fail, she will have the satisfaction ofknowing that all that could be done has been done."
"And if it fails," asked Arden, "will she and the young folks have togive up hope?"
"I'm afraid so. But it's better to give up a hope than to have it lingerforever, isn't it?"
"I suppose so. Oh, I do hope it turns out all right!"
"So do I."
Arden, who happened to answer the telephone to take the message fromHarry, reported to the other girls, and Sim said:
"I think we ought to go over to the Hall and see whether Harry's idea ofa warm and cozy room can be carried out in this cold spell."
"Not a bad idea," agreed Arden.
"Oh, I wish I could go!" sighed Terry, looking at her bandaged foot.
"Don't chance it!" warned Dorothy. "You'll want to be at the party. I'llstay here with you, Terry, if Arden and Sim want to prance down to theHall and look it over."
"Let's, Sim!" Arden exclaimed. "Only we won't prance. We'll go in thecar."
To this Sim agreed and, the housekeeping plans for the day having beendisposed of, she and Arden started out in the sturdy little roadster. Ithad stopped snowing, and the sun was shining brightly with a dazzlingluster on the white ground. It was snappy and cold, so the girls worefurs and arctics, for they wanted to walk around near the Hall. Thatopportunity always fascinated them.
Reaching the Hall, they tramped up the steps. Sim and Arden pushed openthe heavy front door and stood with their heads just within the hall,listening before venturing in all the way.
"No use taking any chances," Sim remarked.
"What chances?" Arden asked, though, as a matter of fact, the samethought was in her own mind.
"Well, ghosts or some irresponsible workmen who might be camping out inhere since they had the last seance."
"Or tramps," suggested Arden.
"Say, there's a thought!" Sim exclaimed. "Perhaps _tramps_ have beencreating all this disturbance."
"Why would they?" Arden was discounting her own suggestion.
"A band or bunch or school or congregation--whatever group tramps fitinto--might have picked this place as hide-out, hang-out, or rendezvous,or whatever the proper term is," said Sim, laughing. "And they mightobject to being dispossessed in the winter. They might even have hit uponthe plan of making ghostly noises and manifestations to scare away theworkmen. Then, if their scheme worked, they would be left in peacefulpossession."
"But _we_ didn't find any tramps here," objected Arden. "And Harry didn'tfind any. And surely they would have piled back in here after the workmenhad gone--if there _is_ a gang of tramps playing tricks."
"Well, maybe I'm wrong," Sim admitted. "Anyhow, there seems to be no onein here now, so let's have a look at the room where we are to haveGranny's Christmas party. I'm game."
The old Hall echoed weirdly to their footsteps, echoes that always seemedto dwell in untenanted houses. But the girls were not nervous. They wereonly going into that one room which was close to the entrance, and ifanything happened they could run out quickly.
But nothing happened. There were no screams, not even a sigh, except thatof the wind. There were no thumping boots coming down the stairs and norustling red cloaks.
"I think we can very nicely use this room," said Arden, looking aroundthe big long double parlor containing the immense fireplace and thepicture of Patience Howe. "It can be closed off from the rest of thehouse. Not a window or a door has been broken."
"And with a roaring fire on the hearth," added Sim, "we shall be quitecozy here. Anyhow, we shan't be here very long. But I think your idea oftelling Granny the good news here is just wonderful!"
"Thanks," murmured Arden. "I hope it is a spectacular success."
They did not wander through any other part of the house to see if theycould collect enough chairs or other pieces of furniture for seats. Theytook it for granted that they could manage other details, and then,having made sure that the old chimney was unobstructed--they looked upand could see daylight--so the fire would not smoke, they finally left.
"Let's walk around a bit," suggested Arden.
"Why not?" agreed Sim. "Walking around here is our greatest outdoorsport."
They were well clothed and shod for tramping in the snow, so they began acircuit of the strange mansion. There was no sign, anywhere, that anyonebut themselves had entered since Harry Pangborn made his investigationthe day before.
They walked down what had once been a lane, arbored with grapevines andhedged in now with ugly tall weeds that thrust themselves up through thesnow. In the distance were some gnarled trees and a small stone building.They had not noticed it before, but now,
against the white ground, itstood up boldly.
"I wonder what that is?" asked Sim.
"Let's go see," suggested Arden.
They passed into the little grove of apple trees, Arden remarking howmuch some of them resembled those in the strange orchard at Cedar Ridge.Then she suddenly uttered a cry of delight.
"What is it?" Sim asked.
"Mistletoe!"
"No! Really?"
"I think so. Anyhow, it's some sort of a bush with white berries on.Look!"
"It does seem like mistletoe," agreed Sim. "But I thought that was foundonly down South."
"I thought so too. But, anyhow, we can pretend this is mistletoe, itlooks so much like it," laughed Arden.
"Why should we want to pretend? Let's be bold and say it _is_ mistletoe!"
"Moselle might know the difference. But I'm with you to the hilt,comrade! Mistletoe it is!" Arden began quickly to gather thewhite-berried branches which, fortunately, broke off, making itunnecessary to cut them, which the girls couldn't have done, as they hadbrought no knife.
Sim was pulling at a particularly large branch when they were suddenlystartled by hearing the creaking of a door on rusty hinges. Then a voice,almost snarling in its tones, called loudly:
"What are you doing here?"
Arden and Sim had walked along until they were close to the small oldstone house. But they were so interested in gathering the mistletoe thatthey had not noticed the slow opening of the door.
Then came the challenge.
The girls swung about in startled fear and heard the rasping voice demandagain:
"What are you doing here?"
The Mystery of Jockey Hollow Page 23