The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls

by Julia K. Duncan

  “Unless we leave for Locked Gates tomorrow, we’ll be left here by ourselves,” Doris explained.

  “Let’s go, by all means.”

  “I thought you would want to start right away. Dave said he would take us down in his roadster.”

  “We’ll have a wonderful time, too!” Kitty declared enthusiastically.

  Doris nodded in agreement. In spite of what Dave and Jake had said concerning Locked Gates, she little dreamed of the adventure that lay before her.

  “I just hope we have a real interesting session at this place,” continued Kitty gleefully, “something to tell the sorority about when we return to school in the fall. Just fancy the crowd gathered around us while we tell in a solemn voice the mysteries of Locked Gates. I really hope something exciting does happen to us, Dory,” she exulted, as the roadster swung around the corner, throwing her little hat a bit more rakishly over one eye. “I’ll be disappointed if it doesn’t.”

  “Kitty, you are very brave just at present. Be sure to keep up your present demeanor as we go forth on our big adventure,” admonished Doris Force thoughtfully.

  CHAPTER VI

  Locked Gates

  Kitty Norris had always been popular at school, for she had a charming way of fitting into things. Before she had been in Chilton an hour she felt perfectly acquainted with Wardell Force, Mrs. Mallow, Marshmallow and even Jake. Marshmallow in particular took an immediate liking to her and tried to monopolize her time.

  “You know,” Kitty admitted that night, after the girls had gone to their room, “I sort of like Marshall. He’s so jolly.”

  “I thought you were quite taken by him,” Doris laughed. “It’s plain to see Marshmallow has taken a distinct liking to you.”

  “Doris Force!”

  “Well, he has. Too bad he’s so fat.”

  “He is a little stout,” Kitty admitted.

  “Stout!” Doris teased. “How you have fallen!”

  “Well, then I guess we’re even,” Kitty retorted. “You and Dave—”

  “We’d better be tumbling into bed,” Doris interposed hastily, “or we won’t be rested for our trip tomorrow to Locked Gates.”

  Shortly after eleven o’clock the following morning, David Chamberlin called for the girls. Wardell Force had of necessity taken an early train out of the city, so there were only Jake, Marshmallow and his mother to see them off.

  “Wish I were going,” the plump youth murmured enviously. “Still, I have a sneaking notion it won’t be as jolly as you think down there at Locked Gates.”

  “Then we’ll liven the place up,” Doris declared lightly.

  Dave drove rather slowly, for neither he nor the girls were eager to reach Rumson before the middle of the afternoon. Doris and Kitty had gone to great pains to prepare and pack a dainty lunch and the three planned to stop some place along the road for a picnic.

  The day was unpleasantly warm and sultry. As they took the main highway leading to Rumson, Doris glanced anxiously at the scattered clouds which were to be seen overhead.

  “I hope it doesn’t rain and spoil our picnic,” she said.

  “Oh, I don’t think it will,” Dave replied. “The sky is almost clear.”

  It was true that the sun was shining brightly, but the sky had a dull appearance which Doris did not like. However, as they motored along enjoying the scenery, she forgot the matter completely.

  “I’m beginning to get hungry,” Dave announced as it approached noon. “We may as well begin to look for a good place to stop.”

  Presently, Doris caught sight of an attractive grove of trees ahead.

  “That’s just the spot!” she declared. “Cool and shady and not too close to the road.”

  Dave parked the roadster just off the highway and they took the hamper over to the grove.

  “This is a dandy place,” Kitty approved. “I believe there’s a spring back there among the rocks.”

  Dave had been gazing thoughtfully toward a sign.

  “I’m not sure that we should have stopped here,” he said.

  “Why not?” Doris demanded quickly.

  “We seem to have camped pretty close to the entrance to the Glenville Roadhouse. However, we’re not on their property.”

  “What difference does it make?” Kitty asked innocently.

  “Well—” Dave hesitated. “This roadhouse doesn’t have much of a reputation, so I’ve been told.”

  “Perhaps we had better leave,” Doris suggested.

  “We have everything all spread out,” Kitty complained, “and this is the nicest grove we’ve passed. We’re not even within sight of the roadhouse.”

  “I don’t believe it will do any harm to stay here,” Dave agreed. “We’ll soon be on our way again.”

  They sat down and began to eat luncheon. There were thin sandwiches, ice-cold lemonade, salad, pickles, and some of Mrs. Mallow’s delicious cookies and cake. Long before they had finished, they realized that their imaginations had been more ambitious than their appetites.

  “I can’t eat another thing,” Kitty groaned.

  “It’s a shame to let these sandwiches go to waste,” Dave excused himself, selecting one made of chicken.

  “Bet you can’t take it all in one bite,” Doris dared him on.

  “A little thing like that? Just watch me! Why you’re not looking!”

  It was true that Doris was no longer interested. A red roadster had turned into the lane leading to the roadhouse, and she had caught a glimpse of the driver’s face.

  “It’s that same man we saw at the aviation meet!” she exclaimed. “Evidently, he intends to have luncheon at the roadhouse.”

  “Must not care much for his reputation,” Dave returned.

  “You know, I don’t like this place,” Doris said quietly. “Now that we’ve finished eating, let’s be on our way.”

  “Right-o!” Dave sprang up and began to pack the dishes into the hamper.

  As he placed the basket into the rear of the roadster he surveyed the sky and frowned slightly.

  “It’s beginning to look more like rain than it did,” he admitted. “I’m afraid we’d better make full steam ahead or we may get caught in a storm.”

  Kitty and Doris did not hear, for their attention had been attracted to a little brown dog which stood in the roadway regarding them with wistful, friendly eyes.

  “Oh, isn’t he cute!” Doris exclaimed. “Here, doggie! Come here!”

  The little animal first backed timidly away and then, as the girls continued to coax, hesitated, and finally came a few steps toward them, wagging his tail in a friendly way. As Doris stooped to pat him on the head he gave a pleased bark, and raising up on his hind legs, eagerly offered her his right paw.

  “He knows tricks,” Doris declared. “Oh, I wonder who owns him?”

  “Looks to me like a stray dog,” Dave told her. “He hasn’t any collar or license. The dog catcher will likely get him before long.”

  “Not if I can help it!” Doris declared. “If he doesn’t belong to anyone, we can take him with us.”

  “What will the Misses Gates say when you come dragging him in?” Dave asked with a smile.

  “Oh, they won’t care. He’s such a darling!”

  “What shall we name him?” Kitty questioned.

  “Let’s call him Wags,” Doris exclaimed impulsively. “The name seems appropriate.”

  Wags had no objection to entering the car and snuggled down comfortably between the two girls. With an anxious glance at the sky, Dave started the engine.

  “Looks like a big storm is rolling up,” he said.

  The girls had been so interested in Wags that they had paid scant attention to the clouds, but now as Doris looked about, she was alarmed. The air was oppressive and not a breath of wind was stirring. Heavy black clouds had loomed up in the west and rapidly were spreading over the entire sky.

  “I think I can get you to Locked Gates before it strikes us,” Dave said grimly, as he shifted gea
rs and stepped heavily on the gas pedal. “Hold tight!”

  The roadster fairly shot down the road. As the figures crept upwards on the tape of the speedometer, Doris and Kitty clung to each other. Not until the car began to rock and weave on the road, did Dave reduce his speed and then only slightly. However, he held the roadster steady and handled the wheel with such a sure hand, that the girls had confidence in his driving.

  It was the appearance of the sky which frightened them. The sun had been entirely blotted from sight, and though it was mid-afternoon, it seemed nearly as dark as night. Dave snapped on the headlights.

  “I’ll get you to Locked Gates before the storm breaks,” he announced in relief as they rounded a sharp curve and came within sight of Rumson. “Fortunately, the place is right at the edge of town.”

  A few minutes later, he brought the car to a groaning halt in front of the old Gates estate. In the gathering darkness the girls caught but a glimpse of the large, rambling house which was set back some distance from the road, but that was sufficient to assure them that it was gloomy and forbidding.

  “Here you are,” Dave said briskly. “Nice place for a murder!”

  “Ugh!” Doris murmured. “You make my hair stand on end!”

  “I almost wish we hadn’t come,” Kitty said nervously.

  “Oh, everything’s all right. I was only joking.” Dave sprang from the car and went over to try the double gates which barred the entrance. “Just as I thought! Locked!”

  “Then how are we to get in?” Doris questioned.

  “There’s an entrance at the rear. Guess these gates are always kept locked. We’ll try the other gate.”

  Driving the roadster down a side street, he found the back entrance and helped the girls to alight. As he picked up their suitcases to take them to the door, Doris glanced again at the storm clouds. A streak of lightning flashed across the sky, and she knew that unless Dave started back at once, he would be caught in the rain.

  “Don’t bother to take us to the door,” she commanded. “Start for Chilton this minute!”

  “I don’t like to leave you here until I know everything is O. K.,” he protested.

  “It’s only a step to the door, Dave. Be a good boy and don’t wait.”

  “Well, since you insist, I will start, because it looks like a storm and the roads may get slippery.”

  Hastily the three said goodbye and Dave sprang into the roadster. He slammed the door shut and was gone before the girls had managed to unfasten the gate.

  “It does look spooky,” Kitty quavered.

  Doris laughed uncertainly. She managed to open the gate and it swung back on creaking hinges. A sudden breath of wind struck her face and went whistling through the trees.

  The house, half-hidden by shrubbery, was shrouded in deepest gloom, and no light glimmered from the windows. Doris hesitated as she picked up her suitcase. Kitty held back, and even Wags seemed reluctant to venture down the path.

  “Come on, Kitty,” Doris admonished, “Everything is all right.”

  As she spoke, a gust of wind whined through the trees, and to the girls it sounded strangely like the wailing of a human being in distress.

  “Oh, I don’t like it here,” Kitty murmured timidly. “I’m afraid.”

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Kit. Just follow me.”

  Carrying their heavy suitcases, the girls groped their way down the path. It was so dark now that they could not see where they were going and frequently brushed against shrubbery. Wags had disappeared.

  Suddenly, Kitty gave a frightened cry as she stumbled over the root of a tree. Catching Doris’s arm to save herself from a bad fall, she permitted her pocketbook to slip from her hand. It opened as it struck the ground, and the contents spilled in every direction.

  “Look what I’ve done now!” Kitty wailed.

  Doris set her suitcase down and helped her chum search for the things she had lost. They found a pencil, a compact and a number of bills, when another flash of lightning momentarily illumined the path.

  “Never mind the rest,” Kitty said nervously. “I’ve found everything except a quarter, and I’ll look for that tomorrow.”

  They continued on up the path and came to the old mansion. The place appeared dark and deserted and Kitty would have retreated, had not Doris gripped her firmly by the arm. Bravely, she lifted the old-fashioned knocker.

  Huddled together on the veranda, the girls waited. When no one came to admit them, Doris again knocked. Just as she was beginning to think that it was no use, they heard a heavy step. Then the door opened and a man, bearing an oil light, peered out at them.

  Before either Doris or Kitty could explain their mission, there came an unexpected yelp. To their horror, Wags, suddenly appearing from beneath a lilac bush, rushed past them straight at the man in the doorway, striking him with such force that he toppled him over.

  A heavy peal of thunder resounded as the man slumped to the floor in a queer sort of kneeling position which, at any other time, would have been provokingly funny to Doris Force and her chum. But this was serious business and such a dilemma!

  “Wags!” shouted Doris, “Come here, come here!”

  The dog bounded into the kitchen, around a table, sniffed at some cake placed dangerously near the table edge, madly rushed to a basket of potatoes throwing the potatoes in all directions over the smooth floor, and then at the call from Doris headed again towards the doorway with a dish towel playfully dragging between his teeth.

  “Here, puppy, here!” commanded Kitty, catching her breath and setting down her suitcase, while Doris tried to catch a corner of the linen as the dog jumped over the bewildered man, pulling the cloth over the man’s head.

  “Help, oh, ouch, help!” shouted the man. “Call your mutt off! Help! Let me get up!”

  “Wags, doggie, doggie, come here!” pleaded Doris, as she realized the man was now in no mood to be trifled with.

  She and Kitty decided that they now must command their new pet’s attention.

  CHAPTER VII

  A Strange Reception

  Frantically, Doris and Kitty called to Wags and in response to their commands he reluctantly returned to them. The man who had fallen scrambled to his feet, and stood glaring angrily at the girls.

  “Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry,” Doris apologized. “Wags isn’t really vicious. He was just playing.”

  “Playing!” the man snapped. “You call that playing!” As Wags again came toward him he raised his foot to kick him.

  “Don’t!” Doris pleaded. “I tell you it was an accident.”

  She caught the dog up in her arms and held him away.

  “What do you want here anyway?” the man asked rudely.

  The first drops of rain were beginning to fall and as a vivid streak of lightning flashed above the house, the girls cringed.

  “Please, may we come in?” Doris begged.

  Silently the man held the door open for them but he scowled as they passed through. They entered a large kitchen. Before they had time to take stock of it, a stout, slovenly woman who was mopping the floor, bore wrathfully down upon them.

  “You can’t come in here with that dog!” she told them. “Can’t you see I’ve just finished mopping up this big ark of a kitchen?”

  Chilled by this reception, the girls hastily backed toward the door.

  “What is it you want?” the woman asked, less harshly.

  “We came to see the Misses Gates,” Doris explained. “They’re expecting us.”

  “Oh!” A peculiar expression flashed over the woman’s face. She was silent for an instant and then she said: “You came to the wrong door. This is our quarter.”

  “And you are—”

  “Cora Sully. I take care of the house. This is my husband, Henry, and I’ll tell you right now there ain’t a lazier man alive!”

  Somewhat embarrassed at such brutal frankness, Doris and Kitty continued to edge toward the door.

  “Go around to
the side door and I’ll let you in proper, else the old maids’ll be put out.” Then she added more gently: “We’re not much used to company here.”

  As the girls were about to close the door behind them, she called shrilly:

  “You can’t take the dog in!”

  Still carrying their suitcases, and with Wags trotting at their heels, Doris and Kitty made their way toward the side door. It was beginning to rain hard.

  “What a horrible woman!” Kitty shuddered. “Now, what can we do with Wags?”

  “We can’t let him run wild in the storm, that’s certain. I have an idea!”

  They had reached the shelter of the side veranda and Doris set her suitcase down and began to unfasten the strap.

  “What are you doing?” Kitty demanded.

  “I’m going to tie Wags under the porch. He’ll be out of the rain there.”

  “It’s mean of that woman not to let us take him in,” Kitty said.

  She helped her chum fix the dog, but they were forced to drag him under the porch by main force, for he was reluctant to leave them. By the time they had fastened him securely in his shelter, they were thoroughly drenched themselves.

  “What sights we are!” Doris declared. “I wonder if that woman ever will let us in?”

  “Here she comes now,” Kitty said in a low tone.

  The door swung open and Cora, wearing a clean white apron which she had donned for the occasion, ushered them into a long hall.

  “Right this way,” she directed.

  They followed her into a spacious living room, bright and cheerful, but furnished in rather prim and old-fashioned style. A fire was burning in the grate.

  “Two young ladies to see you,” Cora announced.

  The Misses Gates promptly arose and, putting aside their sewing, eagerly came forward to greet the girls. Cora took their suitcases and wraps and left them.

  “I am so glad you came,” one of the ladies said in a soft, sweet voice. “When this storm gathered so quickly, we were afraid you might be caught in it.” She smiled apologetically. “Our home isn’t as modern as it once was, but Azalea and I will try to make you comfortable here.”