The Third Girl Detective

by Margaret Sutton

  “It’s the funniest contraption you ever saw, Nell. It will pay you in the morning to crawl over there to see it. There is a bottle, and some wires are stretched across—I left them as they were, but I stuffed my hanky in the bottle. It’s that that whistled. So that is one thing that we needn’t be afraid of, our ‘Dutch Banshee’! Isn’t that good! Hurrah for our ‘ghos’es’ that Daphne talked about.”

  Even Nell grinned at the discovery. She was less afraid now. The “Dutch Banshee” was discovered.

  Rather wearily the girls went back to what Jannet called the “respectable” part of the attic. “I’m going to stretch out, Jannet,” said Nell, “though I am ashamed to take the most comfortable place.”

  “You needn’t be. It’s little enough I can do for my company—starving her to death and entertaining her in the attic!”

  Nell did stretch out upon the little bed, with its dark spindles, head and foot, and Jannet rather carefully disposed herself in the armchair. It creaked even with her slight weight, but did not break. It was of no use to watch for Paulina’s coming. The storm was upon them and Jannet only hoped that none of the chimneys would be struck by lightning. It wasn’t much fun to be in the attic in a storm. But the electrical part of the storm was not severe, though the rain poured in sheets and beat upon the roof till they thought it must give way somewhere. Thanks to Mr. Van Meter’s care of his property, there was not a leak.

  “I’m sorry for the poor folks,” sleepily said Jannet after they had been listening to the rain without speaking for a while. But Nell was sound asleep and her hand limply fell from Jannet’s clasp.

  It was a relief to Jannet to have Nell asleep, for she felt much responsibility. She dozed off herself, but was awake at every different sound. The situation, to say the least, was peculiar. Jannet speculated much about who had locked them in, in intervals of dozing.

  Suddenly there was a sound at the door. Jannet was wide awake in a moment, nor was she much surprised by what followed. “The third time is the charm,” she said to herself. “Enter the Ghost, if I’m not mistaken.”

  Slowly the key turned. Jannet fairly held her breath. The door was softly opened and closed. So much Jannet knew in spite of the rain, to whose drippings her ears were now accustomed.

  Next, a faint shaded light showed, “so she won’t trip on the attic floor,” Jannet decided, but it was not pleasant. A ghostly white figure, showing dimly in the tiny light, moved from the door to the center of the space where the girls were. A low moaning began. “Her,” thought Jannet, setting her teeth. “It isn’t Jan, then, not this time. She’s got a sheet over her.”

  But it was not a sheet, as Jannet soon saw, when filmy, scarf-like draperies floated out and the figure whirled past, moving back and forth, not far enough from the door for Jannet to risk darting between the Ghost and the exit, as she thought of doing, though it might seem to be deserting Nell to the enemy. But Jannet wanted freedom, and help to find out who was this ghost.

  “What are you, most noble ancestress?” suddenly queried Jannet, trying to keep the mocking note from her voice.

  At this the ghost retreated, for Jannet had descended from her chair, and Nell, startled awake, gave one cry and sprang up. “Come here, Nell,” soothingly said Jannet, “it’s only our family ghost, poor thing.” Then she whispered, as Nell reached her, “get outside the door and keep it open for me; but if she is harmless, I may try to catch her.”

  “For pity’s sake, don’t!” whispered Nell, half awake. But she obeyed Jannet, running for the door as if a dozen ghosts were after her. The ghost started to follow, but as Jannet’s very palpable figure put itself in the way, the ghost changed its mind and retreated still farther into the attic. Jannet began to follow it, slowly, but steadily, not using her flashlight but grasping it firmly in her right hand for use either in its legitimate line or as a weapon, should the ghost make attack.

  The moaning increased and the occasional sobs, with writhings and bendings, as the ghost floated backward now. “Nice Ghostie—does pretty dance for Jannet!” And suddenly Jannet flashed her light full on the figure, rapidly taking it in from head to foot. No shadow was this, to be seen through, and a very stout pair of low shoes were not well concealed under the filmy draperies.

  Obviously the ghost was not prepared for a flashlight. Immediately the figure whirled about, the light disappearing as it was held in front of her. Jannet could see the faint light ahead on the floor, but she lost no time in following it. It was difficult, though, to make time without being familiar with the place in the dark and to illumine both the floor at her feet and the flying figure of the ghost, who knew where she was going. All at once Jannet stumbled over a pile of carpet and fell, scraping her elbow and losing hold of her flashlight, which fell somewhere with a crash.

  “Nell,” Jannet called, “lock the door on this side, and leave the key in it, and then come to me slowly, seeing that no one passes you. I’ve lost my flashlight.”

  Nell had heard the crash and now most thoroughly awake, she took the key which had locked them in, though Jannet had pressed her bunch of keys into her hand before, locked the door on the inside as directed, and came waving her flashlight from side to side. “Isn’t a soul that I can see, Jannet,” she said, “What has become of the ghost?”

  “That is what I want to find out,” said Jannet, rising from the pile of carpet, while the light played over it and beyond to a gaping hole. “Look!”

  A push by the ghost had been sufficient to remove the old carpet from a trapdoor, which the ghost had not had time to close. Somewhere in the depths she had disappeared.

  Jannet brushed the dust from her hands and asked Nell to hold the light for her while she found her own. “It flew down after the lady you see. I hope that it is still fit to use.”

  “It probably isn’t. Take mine.”

  “No, you keep it and light me down. If anything happens to me, you can find your way back and out.”

  “If anything is going to happen, you’d better not start.”

  “Very wise remark, Nell; but don’t you want to find out about it?”

  “Yes, I do. I’m so provoked at that ghost I could just—I don’t know what! You did speak of a trapdoor, but nearer the partition.”

  It was some little distance to the first step, but Jannet sat on the edge and let herself down without trouble to that. Several more steps in this very narrow space brought her to a tiny platform. On this her flashlight lay, apparently unharmed, for its light went on as usual. “All right, Nell. There’s a sort of well with a ladder down one way, and I see a bit of light through a partition here.” But even as Jannet spoke the light went out and she heard a rustle inside. Hurriedly she moved her light up and down to find a way of getting within. Ah, a harmless looking nail protruded. “Come on, Nell, we can get in, I think.”

  “But can we get out?”

  “That is so. I believe that you’d better go and waken Paulina. I’m going on, but I may get caught somewhere, so you can tear the house down looking for me.”

  Nell hesitated. “Go on, Nell—it is the only sensible thing to do.”

  Jannet was not particularly sorry, it must be admitted, to have the adventure by herself. She was not afraid now, for the ghost did not want her identity known. Why hadn’t she told Nell to have Paulina take up the hunt with her? Perhaps Nell would think of it.

  The sliding door here was easily found, though one not looking for it might not have thought of it, and might have concluded that the ladder was the way of a fugitive. Like part of a double door, a portion slid aside, for the apparent nail operated a spring. The opening was not large. Jannet stooped to enter where a musty smell met her, as well as a familiar scent of some sort of perfume.

  Here was an odd little cubby to be sure, but the ghost had gone on. Jannet received an impression of a box of a room with a long shelf or berth running its length and some
thing like a table in front of it. On this lay a thin scarf and a filmy dress with yards of material lying in a mass. The ghost had left her costume, then. Oh, if she could only catch her! Yet Jannet’s purpose did not include touching her.

  Ahead was an opening, and Jannet had need to be careful of her steps, as she swung her light around the opening before her—to find stairs again! Oh, here was where the ghost had come down, in the wall of her room by the big chimney! It was a circular stairway, built in an unbelievably small space.

  But Jannet was light and quick. In a moment she was at the bottom. Up and down before her again she swept the light. Good. There was a spring in plain sight. Now she knew how it was done, but she left the panel wide open behind her as she entered her own room, put on the electricity, and took the precaution to look hurriedly into her bathroom, into her closet and under her bed before she opened her door and dashed into the hall.

  Jannet felt that she was too late, but she flew across the corridor which led into the new part and down the hall there to the room at the end where Hepsy and Vittoria slept. No light showed under the door. All was quiet.

  Ordinarily Jannet was too considerate to waken any one in the middle of the night. But this time she thought that she had suffered inconvenience enough to be excused, even if she wakened the wrong people. Firmly she rapped upon the door. At first there was no response. Jannet rapped again, though much inclined to give it up, now that she had time to think. Perhaps neither of the girls did this. Could it be Paulina after all?

  But while Jannet was wondering whether to knock again or not, the light went on and the door opened. There stood Hepsy in her long white gown, her short hair done up in curlers almost like those of a fashion long gone by. This was how Hepsy achieved that remarkable effect, then.

  Hepsy looked scared. “What’s the matter, Miss Jannet?”

  “Oh, nothing. I’m just looking for a ghost.”

  Hepsy looked more bewildered than ever. Jannet continued, “Where’s Vittoria?”

  “She said she was not coming home to-night—but, but I wasn’t to tell. Her beau was taking her to the movie and she always stays with one of the girls, I mean, she has done it once or twice.”

  “Don’t worry, Hepsy. I’m not concerned with whether Vittoria stays out or not. I just wanted to know if she were here. I’ll tell you why to-morrow. Just go back to bed. I’m sorry I wakened you. By the way, what perfume does Vittoria use?”

  “Why, why that’s funny, I guess she uses mine that my aunt gave me for my birthday. It’s black narcissus.” Hepsy spoke with much pride. “It’s awful sweet. There it is on the dresser.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll take a sniff”; and Jannet ran into the room, then out again in a jiffy. “Thanks, Hepsy. You have helped me very much.”

  Quietly Jannet stole back, past Cousin Di’s room, over into the old part once more. She found Paulina and Nell coming out of her room with anxious faces. For once Paulina did not look stolid. “Where have you been?” inquired Nell. “I had a time to waken Paulina, and then she had heard the ghost and wouldn’t go near the attic, so we finally came to your room, to find the lights on, and you nowhere to be seen, and this panel open! Say, Jannet, I climbed up into that room, and Paulina after me!”

  “Did you find the ghost’s costume there?”

  “No! What do you mean?”

  “It was there, and when we find the one who has that, we’ll find the ghost. Did you meet anyone in the halls?”

  “Not a soul.”

  “I am terribly disappointed, then, though I feel sure that I know who it is.”

  “Who?” asked Paulina, silent until now.

  “Perhaps I ought not to say surely till I actually find her.”

  Then Jannet asked what rooms were vacant and where some one could hide, and she found that they had made a tour of them all, looking for her. “But did you look in Jan’s den?” she asked.

  Finding that they had not been on the attic floor at all, she asked them to follow her. Locking and bolting her door, she led the way to the attic by the new route of the secret stairs. It was true—the filmy ghost dress was gone. Thoroughly they searched the attic, quietly, too, Nell standing at the attic door on guard. Then Paulina turned on the light in the upper hall by Jan’s den and unlocked Jan’s door. She understood dimly why Jannet had wanted to search the attic again, but she could not see why it was necessary to enter here.

  Another disappointment checked Jannet’s search. She felt so sure that the ghost would be found here, spending the rest of the night. The room was empty, so far as human occupancy was concerned.

  Jannet stepped in and looked around at the evidences of Jan’s mechanical turn of mind. But with a little exclamation she pointed to the bed. Some one had been sitting there, and there lay a tangled wisp of something on the floor, showing under the long cover which hung over the side of Jan’s cot.

  “She was too much in a hurry,” triumphantly said Jannet, kneeling down on the floor and reaching under the bed. Nell, thinking that the ghost was found, drew back with a little squeal. But Jannet drew out only the filmy mass of the ghost’s dress.

  Paulina quickly took hold of it with interest. “One o’ your ma’s dresses that she was some sort of a furriner with. Somebody else has been into the trunks, then!”

  “I’m terribly disappointed, Paulina, for I thought that we would surely find her, after I knew that she had gone after her costume. Then I thought that she would stay in the house. I want to tell you, Paulina, that I went to the room where Hepsy and Vittoria sleep and that Hepsy is alone.”

  Paulina, stiff and dour, gave Jannet a look of understanding and nodded her head. “It may be,” she said.

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE SECRET ROOM

  Dawn was breaking when Paulina left the two girls, telling Jannet that she intended to watch for the return of Vittoria. Jannet persuaded Nell to lie down on her bed, but she was too highly keyed over the whole affair to feel sleepy. At a suitable time she would call Uncle Pieter and tell him about the discovery. Meanwhile she would go by herself to investigate that queer little box of a room.

  Nell went soundly to sleep in a few minutes, feeling perfectly safe from ghosts now in Jannet’s room. Jannet sat quietly at her desk until she was quite assured that Nell was asleep. Then she rose, picked up her flashlight and the “darling” candlestick with its white candle which always stood upon her mantel, a few matches upon its base, and started for the attic stairway rather than going by the panel. It might waken Nell.

  The door of the attic stood open. Paulina, the neat, careful Paulina, had been too much excited to think of closing it! The trap door so near the partition also stood open. Jannet peered at a crack in the rough partition. Yes, there was the outline of where the top of the secret room stood above the attic floor on the other side of the partition. A pile of lumber, a few odds and ends of boards, rafters and even a few bricks were cleverly arranged to give the impression of waste material and nothing important, should anyone be curious enough to peep through. Now, where below was there room for the rest of the secret chamber? But Jannet recalled the long flight of stairs to the attic. Ceilings were high in the old house. She recalled, too, that the smooth ceilings of her closet and the one corresponding to it were quite low, perhaps to conceal any evidence of the circular stairs. The few steps down from the attic floor accounted for the secret room below such part of it as was raised above the attic floor, its outlines concealed.

  Jannet could see a glimmer of light from the outside, when she looked down into the dark well where the ladder led to the ground floor at the very wall of the house. She recalled little jogs and irregularities downstairs, but could not place this for a moment. Yet from some cracks somewhere the morning sunlight came dimly through.

  “The queer little tool house!” she suddenly thought. She had wondered why in the world that had been inse
rted in a brick wall. It was shallow and Jannet remembered a sort of rude table that stood against its back wall, “probably concealing the entrance to this secret way,” with its queer ladder nailed to the wood of the enclosure.

  How thrilling it was! Cousin Diana, when she showed Jannet around had mentioned the tool house and let Jannet peep within when they came to it. “When the wings were built on, this was naturally sealed in,” Cousin Diana had said, “but when Pieter took them away, he painted up the quaint entrance with its odd latch and open lattice.” Perhaps the very ease of entering the tool house would make no one suspect a concealed ascent behind it.

  She turned to the right and opened the sliding door, finding it more easily opened now that she knew how. She was surprised to find light here, and looking above, she saw a round window, or ventilator at the top of the room on the side of the house wall. This, doubtless, matched the other one in the attic. But it supplied little light, and she looked around for a place to set her candlestick. She sat it down on the shelf, which had most probably been provided for a narrow bed, and saw that a board or leaf hung down from the wall on hinges. The hinges were rusty, but still good and Jannet succeeded in raising the board and propping it with the stick attached, which fitted into a place in the wall beneath. That was the table, then. It had held the ghost costume.

  Jannet’s imagination was working in good order. With a smile she lit her candle. “Now I’m ‘captive’ or ‘fugitive,’ back in the old days, and there is a price on my head, perhaps, and I haven’t anything to eat,”—but Jannet’s heels struck against something of tin that made her look under the shelf to see what was there. The room was perfectly bare except at this place, and Jannet saw only an uninteresting pile of pans and dishes in one corner, all covered thick with dust. An old wooden box, a wooden pail falling to pieces, and a tin or metal kettle of an odd sort stood in a row. Jannet could scarcely see, through the dust, that the “tin” kettle was of pewter. But Jannet did not like pewter things anyhow. Cousin Di had laughed at her for this distaste.