The Third Girl Detective

by Margaret Sutton

  But Jannet shook her head. “Uncle has a daughter, though I suppose that I have as much right to these things as any one. I may have some of mother’s dresses fixed for myself, because I’d love to wear them, but these ought to stay as they are. I wonder if we can’t have a real costume party some day, Nell—look here!”

  Jannet held up and shook out a gay silk costume, with skirt, blouse, sheer and thin, and a laced velvet bodice. That was not very old, the girls thought. Perhaps Jannet’s mother had worn that some time. There was a funny clown’s costume and a velvet colonial suit in gray and blue, with silk hose and buckled shoes and a three-cornered hat. Jannet said that it was almost the prettiest thing there.

  A gypsy outfit included a tambourine and when Jannet danced around over the attic floor with it, she stopped the performance to see Cousin Di standing in the attic door and laughing at her. The light clapping of Cousin Diana’s hands was the only announcement of her presence.

  “O Cousin Di, come in!” called Jannet, running to that lady and drawing her within. “Can we have a party and dress up some time?”

  “You can and you may,” promptly answered Cousin Diana, interested. She remained long enough to see some of the main treasures, telling the girls that they had found some excellent relics of a day gone by. While some of the costumes had been made for special occasions, most of the trunk’s contents were dresses of former days actually worn by the women of the family. Gayly figured lawns and chintzes, light or heavy silks with queer waists and sleeves and tight-fitting linings, trailed long lengths and voluminous skirts about the delighted girls. A square pasteboard box was found to contain a host of beads and other decorations used with the fancy costumes.

  As Cousin Di had suggested that they dress up in something for dinner, Jannet declared that they would change the original plan and surprise them all by doing it.

  Nell rather demurred at first. “Won’t we feel silly, Jannet? And what will your uncle Pieter say to us?”

  “I’m not afraid of Uncle Pieter any more, and he’ll just see that I am doing what he gave me permission to do. I just love that ducky little silk costume with the blue velvet laced bodice. I think that it is a shepherdess costume and I think that Mother must have worn it. Would you like that?”

  “No, indeed. That is just your color. I’ll wear the gypsy suit.”

  “Fine, you carry the tambourine and I’ll take the shepherd’s crook if there is any.” But Jannet did not find one.

  Uncle Pieter was not at dinner, as it happened, which fact relieved Nell of the slight embarrassment she felt. Cousin Diana and Cousin Andy admired the result, though the costumes would have been considerably improved by pressing. Vittoria, who waited upon the table, looked curiously at the girls, so pretty in their new characters, and Jannet caught one look that was not very friendly. Perhaps poor Vittoria was a little jealous. It must be hard not ever to be in things! But Jannet had too many pleasant things to think about to be disturbed by the opinion of Vittoria. Remembering what Paulina had said, Jannet asked Mrs. Holt after dinner how old she supposed Vittoria was. “Probably about thirty,” said Mrs. Holt. “She is engaged to a young man who works in the village. I think that they are to be married as soon as he gets his house built. He is building it himself, as he has time, and hopes to finish it this summer.”

  The rain had stopped by noon. Jannet and Nell walked around outside for a little while and went into the kitchen to show Daphne their finery. Paulina gave them a comprehensive glance, but made no comment. Perhaps Paulina remembered times when those costumes were worn before this.

  Lazily the girls rested in the swing for perhaps half an hour before they felt like returning to the attic. But by that time their pristine energy had returned. Jannet had a bright idea and collected cookies, then decided that fudge and lemonade would be good to take up with them, “so we’ll not have to run downstairs every time we get thirsty, or hungry, Nell.”

  That seemed sensible. They spent some time making fudge, a little in making lemonade, and went up the two flights about two o’clock, the ice clinking in the pitcher. Nell had been advised to bring her flashlight, in case they discovered the perhaps imaginary secret passage, and Jannet had one which was a recent purchase. But they had so much fun dressing in the various garments and were so hot, that they drank up all their lemonade and went down again about four o’clock to make more. Not a soul was around, but the house was locked, they found. They washed off their dingy hands, for handling the trunks had soiled them, though they had managed to keep the dresses from being harmed.

  After “splashing around” in Jannet’s bathroom, they went to the kitchen, where they not only mixed fresh lemonade, but made sandwiches when they found that Daphne had left them some delicious ham in thin slices. “At this rate, Jannet, we’ll not need any supper,” said Nell, but Jannet thought that they would “after doing our real work of the day,” Jannet said. And, indeed, the search was just to begin.

  Into the far corners, under the eaves, soon went the flashlight rays. What they disclosed was innocent enough, chiefly cobwebs and dust. Shrouded shapes of the few old things left around lay here and there. Most of the central part was floored. In a few places the girls were obliged to be careful where the boards seemed to be laid across loosely. Jannet said that the ghost had laid the track for itself, and Nell remarked that they could follow the trail, then.

  Jannet had expected to see some evidences of some one’s walking through dust, but the boards had been swept since she was first in the attic, she thought. “I tell you what, Nell, I ought to have done this right at first, before the ‘ghost’ had a chance to cover up her—his—its—tracks.”

  “Probably you ought, Jannet.”

  They were obliged to look out for bumps upon their heads in places, but finally they reached what was Jannet’s chief objective, the great chimney between her room and the front bedroom. There were the bricks, rough and red. But that whole end of the attic was boarded off with a rough partition. “I thought so!” exclaimed Jannet. “Now for a door!”

  But there was no sign of a door in the boards. Certainly, if there had been a secret passage there, it could not have been concealed, the girls thought. “If Jan or somebody got in your room, Jannet, it must have been by the window,” said Nell.

  “All the same,” declared Jannet, “there is something in my wall. It may not connect with the attic. I suppose now that it doesn’t. But I believe that if we can’t find it out, Uncle Pieter will let a carpenter take away the panels on that side, to satisfy me, and himself, too. He looked awfully interested, Nell.”

  “The queer thing,” said Nell again, “is that it all seemed to begin in the attic and then come nearer. Could it really be ghosts, that can go in or out of walls?” Nell half believed it, Jannet thought.

  “What ghost would carefully take a blue comforter through walls and finally deposit it neatly, well folded, in the closet where it belongs?”

  “Well,” laughingly declared Nell, “Paulina told you that ghost did take one once, you said.”

  “Yes, she did,” Jannet acknowledged.

  It took some time to go over the attic, although if there were some connection between the attic and Jannet’s room, it could only be in a certain part, the girls thought, and there they spent some time. They looked dubiously at various piles of boards not far from the partition. Some old carpet close to it Jannet with great effort drew aside till she could see how the floor looked at the angle. The girls grew a little tired. What was the use of doing it all to-day? Jannet suspected the big cupboard that stood against the partition, but their combined strength could not move it, and there was no indication of a way through it and the partition.

  “Let’s go down, have our supper, and give this up till to-morrow, Nell. We had too much fun dressing up first. Besides, we ought to have some one help us move the heavy stuff. I’ll ask Uncle Pieter.”

  N
ell, who was quite ready for something different, assented. Gradually they made their way back to the trunks, though they did pause again to examine anything that seemed worth while to know about. If their hands had been soiled before, they were “filthy” with the “dust of ages,” Nell declared—“with all apologies to Paulina, Jannet.”

  Again jingling her keys, Jannet went to the door, which she had closed before they began their search in the other part of the attic, though why Jannet scarcely knew. Surely there was no one to watch them. “Why!” Jannet exclaimed, “it doesn’t open!” She looked at Nell, startled. “Try it for yourself!” Nell shook the door and they looked at each other in dismay.

  “Could Paulina have locked it by mistake?” asked Nell.

  “Some one very likely has locked this on purpose,” declared Jannet presently. The two girls stood by the door, puzzled, slightly alarmed. “This is a mess, Nell. It doesn’t look as if I’d get you that good supper we were going to have.”

  “Perhaps we can call to some one from the window.”

  “Perhaps we can. But the tenant house is where all the evening activities are, unless some one has an errand here. Paulina said that she would be back about seven o’clock, unless she took a notion to go to prayer-meeting with her sister. They drive to the village church. Daphne doesn’t sleep here. No telling how soon the girls will come back—but who locked us in, then?”

  “Never mind, Jannet. We have cookies, the fudge and something to drink. Your guardian angel must have told you to bring those up. Do you suppose we’ll have to be up here after dark?”

  Jannet shook her head regretfully. “You be sister Ann, Nell, and watch the window for any one that might come. Paulina is the most likely one before dark, and it does not get dark early, fortunately. I’m going to see if I can’t open the door. I will know enough to lock the door myself the next time I am up here, and leave my key in the lock on this side. That’s what she has done, you see, and I can’t get my key in. I left it on the ring with the rest, or—”

  “You say ‘she,’—how do you know that it isn’t ‘he’?”

  “I don’t know it, I just think it.”

  Nell asked nothing more but sat on a box by the low window, to watch like the sister of Bluebeard’s wife. Jannet tried to poke the key, which was on the outside, and force it out, but with no success. Then she shook the door and called. “The trouble is,” said she, “if Paulina hears a racket in the attic, she will think it the ghost, and Hepsy and Vittoria sleep over in the new part. But there is no use in calling or going into hysterics over it. If the one who locked us in is here, very naturally she wants us to stay.” Jannet thought of burglars, but did not mention that theory. It was bad enough for Nell as it was. She had heard the family car drive off some time before.

  Jannet worked at the key, trying to force it out. She found a bit of wire and she used the smaller keys; but when one became wedged in so tightly that she had difficulty in getting it out again, she gave it up.

  Nell did her best to be cheerful, but Jannet could see that it was an effort. She took Nell’s place at the window and they ate what cookies and fudge were left and drank lemonade with less than their customary flow of conversation. It was, indeed, a gloomy prospect, that of spending the night in the attic.

  CHAPTER XVI

  A STRANGE NIGHT

  The girls had one sharp disappointment. They heard a few sounds below and called. Presently they saw a man walking from the back of the house and carrying two pails. Jannet called, and Nell, looking out over Jannet’s shoulder, called also, almost in a panic for fear that they would not be heard.

  “It’s the man bringing the milk for morning,” Jannet explained. “I had forgotten him. O Mr. Hoppel! Whoo-hoo! Whoo-hoo!”

  Nell added to the pathos by shrieking “Help! Help!” She increased the fervor of her cries as the man kept right on, not even turning. Jannet learned afterwards that Mr. Hoppel was “as deaf as a post,” but they did not know that at this time. Jannet had not yet brought herself to the point of crying “help,” and felt that she was giving the enemy opportunity to rejoice over her by calling at all. But Nell thought that it was no time for pride.

  “Suppose there’s a fire,” Nell suggested.

  “Suppose there isn’t,” Jannet returned. “If there is, Nell, we’ll take some of those sheets in the chest, knot them together, tie one end to the little bed, and let ourselves down through the window. I guess we could squeeze through, couldn’t we?”

  Plump Nell looked dubiously at the window, but decided that she could. Then she suggested that they try it now, but Jannet thought that it would be a needless risk, and that it would be hard to get started safely over a projecting part of a roof.

  So far as they knew, no one else came within call. It began to grow dark. At one low growl of distant thunder Nell remarked that they were “in for it,” a thunderstorm “in the attic.” Jannet said, “Oh, no Nell, only outside,” but Nell smiled only faintly at this.

  Jannet, however, decided that it was time for some action before it grew too dark. Hopping up, she drew the cover from the small bed and rapidly removed its bundles to the tops of various trunks. “What are you doing, Jannet?” Nell asked.

  “I’m going to fix a place for you to lie down if we can’t raise anybody for a while.”

  The bundles off, Jannet brushed and wiped with a newspaper, about the woodwork and the mattress which was covered tightly with muslin. Opening the big chest, she spread a sheet widely first, then laid on top a folded comforter. “There isn’t the sign of a spring, Nell, but you can pretend that we’re camping.”

  Nell jumped up to help. Jannet spread on more sheets and a light comforter, though Nell protested that it would be too hot. The attic so far had not been too uncomfortably warm, for Jannet had found another opening at the other end, a round, glass window, which had given a circulation of air. But it was clouding up. In a storm they might have to close both openings. Truly this was “the limit,” they both concluded. In a storm, who would hear them? Paulina would come home late and go to bed. The “folks” expected to be out late anyway, and if the storm was too bad, who knew when they would get home?

  “Well, we’ll be missed at breakfast anyway,” said Nell. Jannet said nothing. They might be supposed to be over-sleeping. However, she’d get somebody awake in the morning!

  It grew darker. Jannet fixed a comforter in the rickety chair for herself and drew it near the bed, for which she had even found a pillow in the chest. With the chair tipped back and her feet on a box, she would be ready to “enjoy the evening,” she informed Nell. Neither said a word about a ghost, but Nell sat close to Jannet on the little bed and watched the shadows grow darker and darker till they swallowed up the dim light in the attic. “Don’t lose your flashlight, Nell,” warned Jannet.

  “Never!”

  Both were startled a little later by a scurrying sound back under the eaves at a little distance. Jannet flashed her light in that direction, to find a bright-eyed gray squirrel sitting up as squirrels do, most surprised at the light. “Nell!” exclaimed Jannet, “that accounts for some of the noises in the attic, doesn’t it? They are not rats, but squirrels.”

  Jannet had scarcely said this when there was a curious sound again. Something dropped, “tap, tap tap, tap.” “A nut falling down some steps! And where are the steps?”

  Jannet asked Nell if she had the nerve to go back in the attic with her again, but Nell said that she thought a squirrel had dropped the nut between the rafters or in the wall somewhere. “I heard a few scampering over the roof this afternoon,” she added.

  There was a sighing sound in the trees outside. More squirrels seemed to gather in the attic’s far corners; but they were not tame enough to come near the girls, who concluded that it would be well to eat their last cooky and drink up the lemonade before they had any small visitors. Jannet was more nervous about the squ
irrels than Nell, who was used to them. A cool air blew through the attic now, but when the drops of rain began to blow in at the window, Jannet bravely went back to close the other one. This they could watch.

  “It was pretty spooky, Nell, creeping back there to shut that window, but I saw where the squirrels get in, not far from just over my room. I saw one cute little chap on a rafter.”

  The wind grew more violent and seemed to change direction, for no more rain came in at the window, though as yet there was little sound of rain on the roof.

  But with the veering of the wind there began that weird sound which they had heard once before, and Jannet, half laughing, half startled, exclaimed, “The ‘Dutch Banshee’! Nell, we can locate it!”

  “Not I, thank you,” said Nell, putting her head down into the pillow. But Jannet turned on her light and stood up, listening. Nell clung to her hand, but Jannet said, “I’m not forgetting, Nell, that I came to the attic to find out things. That sound is made somewhere here and the wind does it!”

  “All right; if you are going anywhere, I’m going too. I’m not going to sit alone in the dark.”

  Following the sound, the girls carefully made their way back, flashing their lights into this corner and that, until they felt a little air blowing on them and saw a piece of brown sacking waving a little in a corner. “That is an awful place to get to,” said Jannet, “but I’m going. Turn your flash, Nell, on the rafters—please.”

  “Wait,” said Nell, interested now. “There are some boards. Let’s put them across. You’ll have to crawl there, it’s so low, and you’ll go through that unfloored place if you don’t look out.”

  Jannet accordingly waited, while the tiresome task of placing boards safely across was undertaken. Then she crawled, in the light of her own and Nell’s flashlights, till she reached the cranny from which the loud sounds were coming. She pulled aside the piece of sacking and made signs to Nell of her success. Nell wondered what she was doing, for she saw Jannet take her handkerchief from the little pocket of her now most dilapidated and dusty sport frock. But the wild shrieking stopped almost instantly, and Jannet, with a broad grin, turned around in her sitting posture, to hitch herself back on the boards.