Billie Bradley and Her Inheritance; Or, The Queer Homestead at Cherry Corners

by Janet D. Wheeler

  CHAPTER IX

  GHOSTS AND THINGS

  Billie was instantly sorry for her speech, as she saw the old troubledexpression cross her father's face.

  "Forgive me, please!" she pleaded. "I think I must be the most ungratefulgirl alive."

  "Well, I should say so!" cried Chet, to whom the description of the queerold house, while dismaying his sister, had appealed immensely. "Say, I'dlike nothing better than to go out right now and look your property over,Billie. Big rooms and spooky halls and--say, Mother, it must have acellar and an attic. What are they like?"

  "I suppose," said his mother, smiling at his enthusiasm, "that since youseem to like the ghostly part, you would be more than ever pleased withthe attic and cellar."

  "As I remember it, the cellar was the most peculiar part of the wholequeer place. Aunt Beatrice took me through it, and seemed immensely proudof the funny old tunnels and store-rooms that were tucked away in allsort of odd corners. The only thing I liked about it," she finished,with a reminiscent smile, "was the shelf-lined, icy room where she kepther fruit preserves."

  "This gets better and better!" fairly crowed Chet. "A damp, gloomy oldcellar with tunnels and storerooms in queer corners and--But you weregoing to tell us about the attic."

  "Yes, the attic!" cried Billie, for by this time Chet had made her asmuch interested in her strange inheritance as he was. "Did it have trunksin it, Mother--and cobwebs?"

  "Trunks, yes, but not cobwebs," smiled her mother, "for Aunt Beatrice wasan excellent housekeeper--when she was at home."

  "Then the attic wasn't spooky?" queried Chet, disappointed.

  "I should say it was!" returned his mother, with an emphasis that set allhis fears at rest. "It was the creepiest place I have ever been in, and Iwas never gladder in my life than when we left it for the more cheerfullower floor--though goodness knows that was dreary enough."

  "Say, when are we going?" cried Chet, jumping to his feet, his faceflushed with eagerness.

  "Where?" asked Mrs. Bradley.

  "To Cherry Corners, of course," answered Chet in a tone which veryplainly meant, "why ask such a foolish question?" "To the ghosts thatinhabit the garret and cellar of Billie's new house."

  "Hold on, hold on there!" cried Mr. Bradley, who had been listening tothe proceedings in amused silence. "Do you happen to know how far CherryCorners is from here?"

  "Very far?" asked Billie.

  "A whole day's ride, that's all," their father answered.

  "Say, Dad," cried Chet suddenly. "What do you suppose the old placeis worth?"

  "I can't say, Chet," answered Mr. Bradley. "Being so far from good roadsand the railroad, I am afraid the land is not worth much."

  "But it must be worth something," persisted the boy.

  Mr. Bradley smiled faintly.

  "For Billie's sake let us hope so. But you must remember, in this statethere are thousands of abandoned farms. Folks simply can't make a livingon them, and so they move away."

  "But the buildings must be worth something."

  "To live in, yes, but that is all. You can't move an old stone house tosome other spot."

  "Why do they call it 'Cherry Corners?'" asked Billie, for she hadbeen following a little train of thought all her own. "It's a veryqueer name."

  "Oh, they come by it naturally enough," her mother answered. "It issurrounded by a grove of cherry trees and is near a crossing of two rockyroads. So you see the reason for 'Cherry Corners.'"

  "Goodness, that sounds as if it were away off in the wilderness!" criedBillie, adding: "But wouldn't it be awful to have to live in that spookyold house all alone? Are there any houses near it, Mother?"

  "Not one for more than a mile," said Mrs. Bradley. "They are almost asisolated now as they used to be in the old Indian days."

  "Indians!" cried Chet, pricking up his ears again. "Did you say somethingabout Indians, Mother?"

  "Why, I've heard Aunt Beatrice say," answered Mrs. Bradley, beginningto share in her children's enthusiasm, "that the Powersons whooriginally built the house built it especially for the purpose ofresisting Indian attacks. Now that I come to think of it," she added,her eyes beginning to shine with excitement, "that was the reason forthe winding tunnels and secret rooms. As the last resort, the familycould take refuge in them."

  "Oh, boy!" cried Chet, springing to his feet for the second time. "Didyou hear that, did you? Indian raids and--oh, gosh!" Words failed him andhe sank back in his chair with a sigh of joy.

  "Isn't it wonderful!" breathed Billie. "At first I was disappointed butnow--Is that all she left, Mother?"

  "Isn't that enough?" her father interjected, with a laugh.

  "I suppose so, but I thought--"

  "Why, yes, that was all," said her mother, adding the next moment,surprised that she should have forgotten the most important part of all:"Oh, I forgot to tell you--Aunt Beatrice left you the house with all itscontents."

  "Oh!" breathed Billie again. "Now I know we're going to have awonderful time!"

  "What does the old house contain?" questioned Chet. His mind was ongetting some money out of the inheritance for Billie.

  "I am sure I do not know," answered his mother, "It may be completelyfurnished or it may be quite bare. I imagine, though, that Aunt Beatriceleft it furnished. But everything is very old, and maybe the rats andmoths have played sad havoc there."

  They talked for a little while more about this strange thing that hadhappened. Then Mr. Bradley went off to pick up the loose ends of hisbusiness and Mrs. Bradley adjourned to the kitchen to discuss supperpreparations with the mountainous Debbie.

  Left alone, Billie and Chet looked at each other wonderingly.

  "Well," said Billie in a slightly, awed tone, "we expected something tohappen, and it certainly did."

  "But we didn't expect her to leave you an old stone mansion," crowedChet. "Say, Billie," he added, stopping before her in his excitedpacing of the room to gaze at her eagerly, "aren't you crazy to go outand see it?"

  "I'd like," said Billie fervently, "to start for Cherry Corners on thevery next train. But I'm not so sure I'd like to stay in that place afternightfall," she added on second thought.

  "Why, you're not afraid of the ghosts, are you?" he asked, with intensescorn. "Don't you know that ghosts are all in the imagination?"

  "Of course I do. Who said I was afraid of ghosts?" retorted Billie withspirit. "You know that I don't believe in them any more than you do."

  "Well, then what are you afraid of?" insisted Chet.

  "Oh, thieves and things. Tramps maybe," said Billie thoughtfully; thenshe added with spirit, as Chet smiled a superior sort of smile: "I justguess you wouldn't be able to spend a night in that sort of a gloomy oldhouse away off from everybody without feeling nervous. Goodness! I'd beexpecting every minute to have the ghosts of dead and gone Indians riseup and scalp me."

  "Thought you didn't believe in ghosts," gibed Chet.

  "I don't," flared Billie, adding rather weakly: "But I'm not going totake any chances, anyway."

  "But oh," she added after a few minutes of thoughtful silence, "I can'thelp it if it is ungrateful, but I do wish Aunt Beatrice had left me afew hundred dollars instead. We've still got that old statue to worryabout, and Three Towers Hall and the military academy."

  Chet was silent for a minute, then he said with sudden inspiration:"There's the watch Aunt Beatrice left me, you know. Mother said it wasvery valuable."

  Billie's face lighted for a moment, then fell again.

  "But you know Uncle Bill always said that you never could get anythinglike the value for old gold. And anyway," she rose and put a loving armabout him, "I couldn't let you do that for me, Chet, dear. I think you'rethe dearest brother in the world."

  A few hours later Laura Jordon and Violet Farrington came over, tryingtheir best not to look curious. They had waited as long as they could,but knowing about the death of Billie's queer old aunt and knowing alsothat Billie, as her namesake, might expect some share of the fortune
--ifthere was one--they had been filled with excitement, and now as they ranup the steps to Billie's porch it was all they could do to keep fromblurting out the question.

  For both Laura and Violet had been perfectly certain that Billie's AuntBeatrice had been some sort of miser who had piled up an immense fortunesimply for their chum's benefit.

  "Just think," Violet had said in one of their excited conferences on thesubject, "what a wonderful thing it will be for Billie just now when sheis so worried about that miserable old statue. And for Chet too!"

  "Yes, it would mean they could both go to school and we'd all have such agood time," Laura had chimed in. "Goodness!" she had added with achuckle, "I feel almost as much obliged to Aunt Beatrice as Billie will."

  But now that the great moment had come, they sat decorously in Billie'sporch swing and tried to appear not at all curious as to whether Billiehad gathered in a fortune since they last had seen her or not.

  And Billie, her little imp of mischief at work again, guessed the objectof their visit and decided with an inward chuckle to keep them guessing.

  She managed to accomplish her purpose for just about five minutes. ThenLaura, unable to stand the suspense a moment more, took the bit in herteeth and bolted.

  "For goodness' sake, Billie," she cried desperately, "why don'tyou tell us?"

  "Tell you what?" asked Billie, trying to look innocent. "Haven't I beentelling you--"

  "Yes, about the way Debbie makes potato salad," cried Laura disgustedly."You know well enough why we came."

  "Why you came?" Billie repeated, looking still more surprised. "Why,naturally, I thought you came to see me."

  "Billie Bradley, if you don't tell us what we want to know this instant,"cried Laura, jumping to her feet and making a threatening movement towardBillie's mischievous head, "I'll--I'll--oh, I don't know what I'll do.Are you going to be good? Are you?"

  "Yes, yes," cried Billie, pretending immense fright, while her eyesdanced with mischief. "Tell me what it is you want to know and I'll domy best, Your Highness," this last in such a very humble tone thatLaura chuckled.

  "All right, go ahead then," she said while Violet leaned forward eagerly."What did your aunt leave you?"

  "Straight from the shoulder," Billie murmured. Then as Laura made anotherthreatening gesture toward her, added hurriedly: "All right. Don't shootand I'll tell you everything. Only it will take time."

  Billie paused, to allow the proper amount of emphasis, then said, in adeep whisper:

  "She left me a--haunted house!"