The Third Girl Detective

by Margaret Sutton

  Orphans since thirteen-year-old Marjorie, the youngest, had been a baby, the Allens had hardly known one another, for they had all gone to different schools and summer camps. But in spite of that, they had managed to maintain a merry and cheerful household.

  And now they were all bound and determined to make a success of their summer hotel. “We’ve got plenty of time to get organized in,” Penny argued. She pushed her light brown hair out of her eyes with one hand and tucked the last clothespin in place with the other. “Here come Marjorie and Jimmy. You can organize us all right now.”

  “Hi,” Jimmy called, striding toward them. He was the darkest member of the family, contrasting sharply with Marjorie.

  She was very fair, with light golden hair and light-blue eyes. Her slight figure and small delicate hands gave her an almost elfin grace to which was added a delightfully mischievous quality. “She looks delicate,” Jimmy often said. “But the kid’s as tough as nails.”

  Jimmy’s current aim in life was to reach at least six feet before he stopped growing. Almost daily the slender, seventeen-year-old boy insisted that Philip stand back to back with him in order to determine whether or not he had finally become the tallest member of the family.

  Judging by the quantities of food he packed away, Penny felt sure that he would never stop growing. Moreover, it seemed to her that he was quite tall enough now. What he needed to do was to gain a little weight.

  “A summer here, spent mostly outdoors,” she said to Philip, “will do both Marjorie and Jimmy a world of good. I hope they each gain a few pounds before they go back to school.”

  Marjorie, who had been trailing behind Jimmy, called out then: “Now that the blankets are airing, Penny, can’t we go through the stuff in the storage room?” She broke into a run and arrived by the clothesline almost out of breath. “I can’t wait to see what’s in those old trunks.”

  “Probably nothing but junk,” Jimmy said. “You know what Uncle John always called this place.”

  When they had first come to the Michigan house early in the fall they had expected to find a shack because their Uncle John had always referred to it as the “Michigan Shack.” But in spite of its name, it had turned out to be a very pretentious log structure evidently built for just such a purpose as they were planning to put it to now.

  Allen Lodge was imposing with its wide front and its two-story porches. The spacious living room was two stories high with the bedrooms opening off a balcony which extended around three sides of the room. The large dining room, kitchen and pantry, were on the Lake side. There were great fireplaces in many of the rooms and Philip said that it must have been planned as a summer hotel or a hunting lodge because the arrangement was ideal for large numbers of people.

  The interior, with its lovely hand-hewn rafters and paneled walls was a delight to the eye, and even better, it was easy to take care of. Allen Lodge suggested nothing but comfort. No one knew of its secret room except the Allens and their newly made friend.

  They had heard when they first came here that the house was haunted, but it had not taken them long to discover that the ghost was only Adra Prentice, a very nice girl whom they had discovered hiding in the secret room. Adra, who was eighteen years old, had “haunted” the Allen’s house when she had run away from her kidnappers. Their adventures and the way they solved the mystery is told in Penny Allen and the Mystery of the Haunted House. The four Allens were now ready for a new adventure and they felt that their own house was the best place to find it.

  “Those old trunks aren’t filled with junk,” Marjorie was saying to Jimmy. “Penny and I looked into one of them and it’s positively overflowing with fascinating old dresses that would be wonderful if we give a masquerade. And there’s an old jewelry box—”

  “Filled to the brim,” Penny finished, smiling, “with costume jewelry not worth a cent.”

  “See?” Jimmy demanded, grinning at Marjorie. “Junk.” He turned to Phil. “Pat asked me to plant some beans in his garden behind the cabin the Donahues are going to occupy. If you don’t need me, I’ll go do it now.”

  “Go ahead,” Phil said. “It won’t take long.”

  Pat Ryan, who had been Uncle John’s guide and the caretaker of the Lodge, had just married Ann Mary. He and his new wife had voluntarily taken over the responsibility of helping the Allens. Philip and Penny realized they would be lost without the Ryans in this undertaking. As Philip said, “They’ve completely spoiled us. I wouldn’t think of doing anything without first consulting Pat. He seems to know everything about everything and as luck would have it, we know next to nothing about anything. Fate must have brought us together, or better yet, Uncle John must have had us in mind when he first got Pat to work for him.”

  Penny agreed wholeheartedly with Phil.

  “Pat’s orders,” she told Jimmy before he started off to plant beans, “must always be obeyed.” She pointed gaily to the blankets that were swaying and billowing in the sunny June breeze. “See what I’ve done with our household chattels! To think I might have gone through life only knowing about readin’, writin’ and ’rithmetic if Ann Mary hadn’t taken me in hand and shown me how to run a house.”

  “Don’t feel so cocky, Sis,” said Jimmy, an impish grin on his face. “You probably have lots more to learn. All I can say is, you’d better hurry up and acquire the missing knowledge before Peter gets here.”

  Penny blushed at the mention of Peter Wyland’s name. Even though he was an old friend and the Allens had known him for years, he had just recently shown his preference for Penny’s company and Penny was still not used to being teased about it.

  Phil shrewdly guessed that Penny had been in love with Peter ever since last winter. That was when they had discovered that Peter was a secret service man in the employ of Mr. Prentice. Phil had not talked to Penny about Peter even when he noticed that she seemed to get letters from Wyland quite regularly. Philip’s mind these days was much preoccupied with thoughts of Adra Prentice. He seemed unable to get her out of his mind, and he found that no matter what he was doing, his thoughts would always go back to Adra.

  Both Phil and Penny knew that Jimmy and Marjorie would never stop teasing them about their feelings, so, contrary to their usual method of discussing everything among themselves, they had not said anything about this. Nevertheless, it seemed to be more or less understood, and although Penny couldn’t help blushing, she pretended to ignore Jimmy’s teasing remark.

  “Get along with you,” Phil said to his younger brother. “If you don’t plant those beans soon they’ll sprout in your pocket.”

  Jimmy departed, laughing. “Come on, lazy-bones,” he called over his shoulder to Marjorie. “I’ll let you help me for a change. Even you can’t botch up a job as simple as planting beans.”

  “Thank you, no,” Marjorie said with dignity. “I weeded all day yesterday while you were fishing.” Marjorie had not missed Penny’s blush, and couldn’t resist a chance for teasing her older sister. “Why are your cheeks so pink, Penny?” she asked carelessly.

  “She’s getting sunburned,” Phil said, quickly coming to Penny’s rescue. “If you spent more time looking in the mirror, Marjorie, you’d see that your own nose is as red as a beet.”

  Just then an old Ford drew up in front of the house. Pat Ryan got out, followed by the new summer help. Theresa, who was Pat’s sister and lived in the nearby village, had a smile on her broad Irish face. The Allens loved her Irish brogue and her tremendous bulk. Marjorie said she was worth her weight in gold.

  “It’s glad I am to be here working for the Allens,” she said.

  Penny welcomed her and said, “It’s we who are glad you could come, Theresa, and the rest of you too. We’d never be able to swing this experiment if it weren’t for the Ryans and you, and we think you’re bricks to do this on a co-operative basis, because right now we don’t know if we’ll make a profit, or lose money.
”

  “Don’t you go worrying about a little thing like that,” answered Theresa, and with a wink at Pat she added, “Anybody that finds out about Ann Mary’s cooking will gladly pay double the fee you’re charging, if Pat isn’t going to be too jealous to let anybody else taste that good food.”

  “Okay with me,” said Pat good-naturedly. “Providing I get my share.”

  Slowly following behind Theresa were two people the Allens had never met. Penny and Phil shook their hands as Theresa introduced them.

  “This is Mr. and Mrs. Mal Donahue, Ann Mary’s cousins. Mrs. Donahue was Kathleen Doherty and we always call her Kitty. It’s a cinch your help will all be getting along fine together since we’re all Irish and all related. Seems as though all the Irish are related to each other, doesn’t it?”

  This brought forth gales of laughter from Jimmy who had interrupted his work in the garden to greet the new arrivals.

  “I hope you like your cabin,” he said to the Donahues. “All of our vegetables are growing right in your back yard, so whenever you get hungry all you have to do is reach out the window and pick some pole beans.”

  They smiled at him while Philip said, “We hope you will be happy with us, Mal and Kitty.”

  Mal Donahue cleared his throat. “We’d like the job, sir, uh—er,” and he hesitated. “We were—ahem—curious, you see. We heard the house was haunted last winter, and some people say there’s hidden treasure around here. We hope it’s just a plain ordinary house. Kitty and I don’t like surprises.” This speech was made with some effort and once again Jimmy couldn’t control his amusement.

  He laughed and slapped Mal on the back. “If there’s any treasure, old man, you and I will find it together.” This seemed to reassure Mal.

  When Philip and Penny walked toward the Lodge later, she said, “I think we are lucky, Phil, to get these young folks. I like their looks, don’t you?”

  “I certainly do,” Philip agreed. “And Pat and Ann Mary will need all the extra help they can get. If things work out the way we hope they will, we’ll have to hire more people from the village.”

  Penny nodded. “I’m very pleased with Kitty. She looks like a dear, and she’ll make a nice appearance waiting on the table.” She sighed. “It’s too bad anyone as attractive as Ann Mary must stay in the kitchen most of the time.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Phil said with a laugh. “I’m sure all our guests will want to go back and tell her how good her food is and they’ll get to know her that way. Besides,” he went on, “she won’t stay in the kitchen all the time. Even if she’s supposed to do nothing but cook, you know Ann Mary will pitch in and help the others whenever she has any spare time.”

  “That’s true,” Penny said thoughtfully. “And I’m beginning to see what you mean about our getting organized. We really should all work according to some sort of schedule so we won’t be getting in each other’s way.”

  “Exactly,” Philip said. “We must have a serious meeting this evening and assign definite tasks to each one of us.”

  “Right after dinner,” Penny agreed. “Now, before we go back to work in the house, let’s read the mail the postman left on the porch a while ago. I—I,” she confided, “I’m sort of hoping I’ll hear from Peter Wyland. He’s not sure he can take a vacation from his job until the end of summer.”

  “Cheer up, Sis,” Phil said encouragingly. “Maybe there’ll be a letter from him saying he can come sooner.”

  They hurried up the steps to the porch where a stack of letters was waiting for them.

  CHAPTER 2

  AN ANONYMOUS LETTER

  The first letter Penny opened was from the Curtises saying that they would arrive in about a week, the first weekend in July.

  “That is,” Mrs. Curtis wrote, “if it won’t be rushing you too much, Penny dear.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Curtis, whom the Allens fondly called Grandma and Grandpa Curtis, had been old friends of Uncle John’s. Their daughter Mary and their son Charles were the same age as Penny and Philip and they had spent many summers together in camps. They were to be the first guests at Allen Lodge and were planning to stay the entire summer.

  When Mr. Curtis had heard about the ideal fishing his family had difficulty restraining him from coming up before the Lodge was really open for business.

  “The Curtises are always doing something to help us,” brightly asserted Penny as she finished the letter out on the big front porch.

  She and Philip looked out on the lawn, a wide, trimmed space in front of the house, its grass thick, its masses of shrubbery and groups of beautiful trees stately, and its flowers just beginning to bloom. Truly, summer had come to the shores of Lake Superior, and Phil surveyed the property with great pride.

  Watching the expression on his face, Penny said, “Uncle John certainly had good taste, Phil. You have every reason to be proud of your inheritance.”

  “I know it,” Phil said. “But don’t forget to give credit where it is due. Jimmy and I have done a good job of lawn-mowing and tree-trimming, if I do say so myself.” He stretched his long arms. “That kind of work is a real muscle builder.”

  “I’ll bet it is,” Penny said. “And it’s grand to know that I’ll have plenty of flowers for the dining room tables and for every bedroom in the Lodge. Pat takes very good care of the cutting flowers in his old-fashioned garden. If you and Jimmy take as good care of the flowering shrubs, the Lodge will be a bower of blossoms inside and out all summer.”

  Marjorie and Jimmy came out on the porch then with their hands full of more mail that Pat had brought back when he went into town for Theresa and the Donahues.

  “‘Lo,” said Jimmy. “Help us sort this out. Gobs came in today after the postman left.”

  Jimmy sat down in one of the large, old-fashioned wicker chairs and Marjorie drew up a little footstool in front of him.

  “Go ahead,” said Philip, “We’ll trust you and Marjorie to sort it all out and hand it over, won’t we, Penny?”

  “Only too glad to have you do it,” replied Penny, slumping down in her chair and pretending to relax. “Only don’t take too long, if anything looks interesting,” she added.

  Jimmy’s answer to that was to toss a flat letter into her lap, and to follow that closely with another slimmer one, carefully twirled by its corner to insure its falling at the proper distance.

  “Oh, don’t, Jimmy,” protested Marjorie, over whose head the missives were hurled.

  “That will keep her quiet, Marge,” Jimmy announced. But Penny was already quiet, not even hearing Jimmy’s last remark.

  “You have the biggest pile, Phil,” Marjorie stated in a few moments.

  The pile in front of Phil was falling over with letters, papers, advertisements and catalogues. The process of dividing the mail was soon completed and silence reigned except for giggles from Marjorie as she read a long letter from her best friend, Judy Powell. Penny, deeply engrossed in one of hers, gave a slight exclamation once, and Philip whistled as he laid aside a long envelope. But no one stopped to ask questions.

  Penny looked at the absorbed group as she finished her last letter and smiled. Marjorie stopped reading her letters and looked off into space.

  “Read me some of Judy’s letter, Marjorie,” said Penny.

  Marjorie turned with a smile to say that it was such a good letter and so funny—“Judy wants to know by telegram when they can come.”

  “She shall, Marjorie,” Philip answered immediately. “I’m thinking of getting a special telegram blank printed.”

  Marjorie looked at Phil to see if he really meant such an idiotic thing; but as Phil only winked at her, she merely said, “Crazy!” and turned to Judy’s letter:

  Dearest Marjorie:

  I think it’s simply tops that we can be together this summer. I was so afraid my parents would insist on sending me to ca
mp again. Not that I don’t like camp, but I know it’s going to be so much more exciting to do things together, like exploring in the woods. Will we be allowed to go through the woods by ourselves? Are there secret cabins, or wonderful hiding places? Can we sleep out at night? I’ll bet it’s wonderful swimming in Lake Superior! Oh, couldn’t you telegraph and let me know right away when we can come? I have so many questions to ask, I don’t know where to begin.

  My brother Alf says he would rather come to Michigan than go on the canoe trip in Canada. He says he always has fun with Jimmy. Maybe the boys will let us help them build something or do some of the things with them. Alf says they’ll never take us fishing because girls talk too much, but maybe we can convince them that we know how to keep quiet.

  I’m so excited that at last we are going to see the Lodge, and all the Allens and especially you, that’s all I can write about.

  Do Charles Curtis and Peter Wyland both still like Penny? Does Penny like either one of them? Maybe I should be minding my own business, but I guess I am just bubbling over with questions. Cincinnati is hot as it always is in the summer and we can’t wait until we get to Michigan. Quick, quick, quick, send me a telegram. It will be the first one I ever received.

  At present I just live in a bathing suit and we spend almost all day at the pool. I’m glad school is out. Alf says I’m a nuisance and a question box, and by now, you probably think the same. I can’t wait until I see you,

  Forever yours,

  Judy.

  When Marjorie had finished reading Judy’s letter out loud, Jimmy chuckled. “She’s a riot, that Powell kid.”

  Penny was already scribbling a message on the back of an envelope. “Here,” she said to Jimmy, “go in to the phone in the office and send this telegram to Judy right away. There’s no reason why the Powells shouldn’t come the first weekend in July when we expect the Curtises.”

  “Hooray!” Marjorie shouted as Jimmy went in to send the telegram. At that moment Kitty Donahue came out on the porch.