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

by Julia K. Duncan

  “Now for our house,” cried Desiré as they drove onto the main road again. “Please go very slowly, Jack, so that we won’t miss it.”

  They all peered eagerly out of the wagon; and when they saw, up a little lane, a dilapidated-looking building, they all exclaimed together—“That must be it!”

  Jack drove as close as the underbrush would allow, and they proceeded on foot until they were standing before a small log cabin, windowless, doorless, a huge flat stone for a doorstep, and a chimney built of irregular stones.

  CHAPTER XV

  THE OLD GODET HOUSE

  “No floors,” observed Priscilla, peeking in.

  “It’s a mere shell,” said Jack; “everything rotted away but the walls and the chimney.”

  “But how stout they are!” exclaimed Desiré, triumphantly.

  “We’ll look at it again when we come back this way, if you like,” promised Jack presently; “but now I want to get on to Windsor.”

  “There’s the remains of a garden back of the cabin,” commented Priscilla, as they drove away. “I can see three or four flowers.”

  “The first seeds of which were doubtless planted by our—how many times great-grandmother, Jack?” asked Desiré.

  “Don’t know. The ‘greats’ always did puzzle me.”

  “Oh!” cried René, “I always thought you knowed everything.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, my boy,” laughed Jack; “but I don’t.”

  “And now,” said Priscilla, “I want to see the place where you went to school, Jack. Wasn’t it here?”

  “Yes. I’ll show it to you when we come back.”

  “How strange,” commented Desiré to Jack, “that you never heard of or saw the place when you were here.”

  The boy smiled. “I was far too busy going to classes, preparing assignments, and coaching some of the other fellows, to hunt up old ruins.”

  Desiré was very quiet for the rest of the day, but the next day, when they were camped near the river Avon just beyond the town of Wolfville, she said rather timidly to Jack:

  “Do you suppose we could find out anywhere who owns the Godet house now?”

  “Possibly; but why?”

  “I’d just like to know.”

  Her brother looked at her keenly before he said—“We can walk into town and see what information we can get, if you like.”

  “Do you suppose the children would be safe if we left them?” looking up at him doubtfully.

  “I think so. Priscilla must begin to take a little responsibility now. We’ll have plenty of time to get back before dinner time.”

  While Desiré got ready, Jack issued instructions to the two children, closing with—“René, you’re to mind Priscilla; and Prissy, don’t go away from the wagon, or let René out of your sight.”

  They had gone only a short distance when Desiré, who had looked back several times, said—“Jack, would you mind very much if I let you go on alone, and I went back?”

  “No, of course not; don’t you feel well?” he inquired anxiously.

  “Perfectly; but—Prissy is pretty young to be left with the wagon and the baby; and it isn’t as if you really needed me along.”

  “I think they’re perfectly safe, but if you’d feel better about it, go back by all means,” said her brother kindly.

  So Desiré returned to the children, and waited in a fever of suspense for Jack to come back. With one eye on the long road, and the other on her household, or rather wagonhold, duties, she was ready to drop everything and go to meet him as soon as his tall form appeared in the distance.

  At full speed she dashed along the highway, raising quite a cloud of fine white dust, and fell into Jack’s arms outspread to stop her.

  “Good work, Dissy! All our riding hasn’t made you forget how to run. Remember the races you and I used to have when we were little, on that smooth path running along the edge of the woods?”

  “And the day you fell over a stone and had such a terrible nosebleed? How frightened I was!”

  “We had lots of good times together when we were kids, didn’t we?” asked Jack, laying his arm affectionately across her shoulders.

  “We surely did; but why say ‘when we were kids?’ We do now, too, only they are a different kind of times.”

  “And a different kind of race,” added Jack, thoughtfully.

  “Well, what did you do in town?” asked the girl, unable to restrain her curiosity any longer.

  “I rambled about a bit first, asking a question here and there, and finally ended up at the house of Judge Herbine. He’s a fine old man, Desiré; you’d like him. As he is quite a story-teller, and very much interested in our affairs, it took some time to get the information I was after; but at last I succeeded in finding out that the house apparently belongs to no one. Some years ago a man from the States wanted to buy the site for a summer home, but when he investigated and found that there wasn’t a clear title to the property, he decided not to take it. I don’t really understand it, but it’s something about some papers that are missing, have been for years and years back. Nobody else wanted it, so—”

  “We can take it ourselves,” concluded Desiré.

  The boy stood stock still in the road, and looked at his sister in frank dismay.

  “What on earth do you mean!” he asked.

  “Just what I said. If it belongs to nobody, we, being the Godets’ descendants, can surely take it. Who’d have a better right?”

  Jack looked more and more puzzled, as he said—“What would you do with it?”

  “Do with it? Why, live in it, of course.”

  The boy regarded her with such a worried look that she laughed outright.

  “I’m perfectly sane, Jack. My plan is this. We’ll have to live somewhere during the winter; and if we board, we’ll use up all the money we make this summer. With this as our headquarters, during unpleasant weather we could make day trips as we planned, and send Prissy to school every day in Wolfville. Or possibly you could get some kind of a job in Windsor for the winter, and I could take charge of the wagon.”

  “But nobody could possibly live in that cabin,” objected Jack, brushing away a persistently hovering bee. “It’s hopeless.”

  “Indeed it isn’t hopeless. I agree with you that no one could live in it the way it is now, but with new floors and a couple of partitions, it would be fine. You admitted that the walls were stout, and the chimney perfect.”

  “With help, I could put down floors—” began Jack half to himself, after a moment’s consideration. “We’ll have to think this out more carefully, though, and talk it over again.” And he added hurriedly as they got near the wagon, and Priscilla dashed out to meet them, “Don’t say anything yet before the children.”

  The same afternoon Jack went again to town, and did not return until supper time. Priscilla was curious to know what he did there, but he gave such absurd answers to her questions that she finally gave up.

  “I’m not ever going to ask you another question,” she announced.

  “Not until next time,” teased Jack, ruffling up her hair.

  “I suppose you are as curious as Prissy,” he said later on to Desiré, after the children were asleep.

  August had come in with a cool wind from over Fundy, and after darkness fell, the chill was more noticeable; so Jack had built a small camp fire, and he and Desiré were sitting beside it on a pile of cedar boughs.

  “Well, yes,” admitted Desiré. “I must confess that I am.”

  “I went to see a young carpenter that the judge recommended to me—”

  “About floors?” asked Desiré eagerly, twisting around so quickly to look directly into his face that the pile of boughs swayed threateningly.

  “Look out, Dissy!” warned her brother. “You’ll have us both in the fire if you don’t sit still. Yes, about floors, and partitions.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He’s busy on one of the farms now, but when the crops are in he�
�ll do the work for us at a price that we can afford to pay. That is, I think we can if we do well for the rest of the summer.”

  “Then we’ll just have to,” decreed Desiré, tossing a couple of pine cones into the fire.

  “The judge is a good old scout. Seemed so interested in us that I told him what we were doing, or rather trying to do, and he was awfully keen about seeing the rest of you. So he’s coming out tomorrow to lunch—”

  “Tomorrow!” exclaimed Desiré. “Why, I thought you were anxious to get on to Windsor; and we’ve already lost a day.”

  “Yes, I know; I don’t know just why I hung around here, but it just seemed as if we were meant to.”

  “And to lunch, Jack,” she added, in dire dismay. “What made you ask him to a meal?”

  “I don’t know. The invitation was out before I thought. But you would have asked him, too. He seems so kind of lonely, and he says he dotes on picnics. You can manage something simple; can’t you?” the boy asked anxiously.

  “I’ll try hard, of course. Do you suppose you could catch a few fish in the morning?”

  “Probably, and I saw some ripe huckleberries as I came along this afternoon. The youngsters can gather some of those, and we’ll get along all right.”

  The children were delighted at the prospect of “company,” and immediately after breakfast, Jack escorted them, armed with a tin pail and a couple of cups, across a field to the berry bushes loaded with blue fruit.

  “When the pail is filled, go right back the way we came, and take the berries to Desiré,” he instructed, as he set out in a different direction for the river, with his fish pole. The banks of the sparkling stream were pink with masses of wild roses, freshly opened and wet with dew.

  “Desiré would be crazy over these,” he thought. “Guess I’ll take some to her when I go back.”

  An hour’s fishing resulted in enough fish for a meal; and after cutting an armful of roses, Jack returned to camp. The children had reached there ahead of him, and were busy making things ready for the eagerly awaited guest.

  Desiré had laid on the ground, in a shady spot, a red-bordered tablecloth, anchored it at each corner with a stone concealed by a pile of pine cones. She greeted Jack’s offering with enthusiasm—“Just what we need for the centre of the table. Prissy, get an empty fruit can to put them in, and lay some big ferns around it. I must attend to my biscuits.”

  It was wonderful what good things Desiré could cook on the little camp stove, which they really had not felt able to afford when they saw it in Yarmouth. “It will pay for itself very soon,” she had argued; “for we can’t live on cold food all the time; and eating in restaurants is awfully expensive.” Jack had approved; so the stove and even a little oven to set on top of it, when needed, had been added to old Simon’s outfit.

  About twelve o’clock a Ford coupé was seen in the distance, and soon came to a stop beside the Wistmores who, one and all, stood in a row in front of the camp. A thin little man with heavy white hair got nimbly out of the car.

  “This is my family, Judge Herbine,” said Jack; “Desiré, Priscilla, and René.”

  “Very glad, indeed, to know you all,” replied the judge, bowing low with old-fashioned courtesy, but gazing searchingly at each one over the tops of the glasses which he wore so far out on his nose that it was a miracle that they stayed on at all. Priscilla was so fascinated by them that she could hardly keep her eyes off them.

  “We’ll have lunch right away,” announced Desiré; “so please take your places at the table. This is yours, Judge,” indicating the side facing the road, where a cushion had been placed. The others sat on the ground.

  The fish which Jack had fried over a camp fire, while Desiré finished her biscuits, were done to a turn; and the judge did full justice to them.

  “These biscuits are mighty fine,” he commented, “and you say you made them on that little gadget of a stove? Marvelous! Marvelous!”

  After the huckleberries and some wafers which Desiré had taken from their stock were disposed of, the guest insisted upon helping clear up. He was a lively little man, and skipped hither and thither, carrying dishes, picking up papers, and making himself generally useful.

  “Now for a visit,” he said, settling himself beside a tall pine, leaning back against its trunk, and stretching his legs, clad in cream-colored crash, straight out in front of him.

  CHAPTER XVI

  A NEW FRIEND

  “So you’re going to try to live in the old Godet house this winter—”

  “Oh, are we?” cried Priscilla, throwing herself on Desiré.

  “Oh! Oh!” shrieked René joyfully, not very clear as to what the rejoicing was about, but determined to have his full share in it anyway.

  “Have I let the cat out of the bag?” inquired the judge, startled at the effect of his question.

  “We had not yet told the children,” replied Jack; “but it’s quite all right, for they would have known soon, anyway.”

  “Sorry—sorry. You two youngsters just forget what I said.”

  The man talked in a rapid, jerky fashion which reminded Desiré of the way a robin runs along, a few steps very fast, stops up short, and then repeats the process.

  “Now, I was going to say, where do you expect to house your team this winter?”

  Jack and Desiré looked at each other in dismay.

  “I never thought of that,” said the boy slowly.

  “Well, I did. Got an empty barn at my place—no good to me—Ford is lost in it—plenty of room for your horses and wagon—”

  “If you’ll let—”

  “Now I know just what you’re—going to say—and I won’t. But if you’d—feel better about it—let this good sister of yours—make me some biscuits once in a while. Don’t get this kind very often.”

  “I’d just love to,” replied Desiré warmly, while Jack tried to express his thanks, to which the old man refused to listen.

  “Where are you going from here?” continued the judge.

  “Right on to Halifax, then back again,” replied Jack.

  “Now I was thinking—while we were eating—know how to make things out of birch bark—and out of pine cones?” turning to Desiré. “No? Then I’ll show you.”

  Scrambling lightly to his feet, and followed by the young Wistmores, he darted across the road to a large birch tree; and drawing a knife from his pocket, showed them how to obtain strips of bark without injuring the tree. Returning to the camp, he ordered the two children to gather up a lot of cones. The rest of the afternoon was spent in learning to make boxes, baskets, and picture frames.

  “There’re lots of tourists in Halifax—always looking for souvenirs—at railroad station, cab stands, and such. Wharf, too, is a good place to offer this stuff. No reason why you two girls shouldn’t do that—perfectly safe.”

  “Now I’m going home,” he announced suddenly at about five o’clock. “Had a good time. See you often this winter. I’ll keep an eye on that boy who is going to fix up your cabin—ready when you come back this way—if you don’t come too soon.”

  “Isn’t he funny?” commented Priscilla, as the Ford drove out of sight.

  “But charming,” added Desiré.

  “Oh, yes, I like him a lot.”

  “Me, too, like him,” echoed René.

  “Tomorrow,” said Desiré, “I want to gather lots of bark and cones, and while we’re on the road I can make up baskets and boxes. Then when we get near enough to Halifax, we’ll pick huckleberries to fill some of them, and wild flowers for the rest—”

  “And we’ll sell ’em and make heaps of money,” finished the practical Priscilla.

  “We’ll get bunches of cat tails, too,” continued Desiré.

  “And later in the season, pretty berries,” said Priscilla.

  “And wintergreen—”

  “And nuts—”

  “And soon you won’t need my poor efforts at all,” concluded Jack, with a half smile.

  “
Oh, don’t, please, Jack, even in fun,” begged Desiré.

  “We’d need you even if you never earned a cent!” cried Priscilla, throwing her arms around Jack’s neck.

  René, attempting to imitate her, due to the wagon’s passing over a rut, succeeded only in falling violently on his brother’s shoulder. The combined assault nearly forced Jack forward out of the seat.

  “I’ll take your word for it, hereafter,” he gasped, when order was once more restored. “Don’t illustrate again, I beg of you!”

  A week later the Wistmore family drove into Halifax.

  “I shall have to spend most of the day buying supplies,” said Jack, as they passed the citadel. “I’ll put the wagon up somewhere, and you and the children can look about while I’m busy.”

  “But—” protested Desiré, “the boxes of berries, and flowers—”

  She had carried out the plan formulated at Wolfville, and had a number of really artistic boxes of choice fruit, partly covered with tiny ferns, and several odd baskets in which dainty wild flowers were set in moss.

  “I hate to have you hanging around offering things for sale,” objected Jack.

  “But we can’t afford to be proud that way, dear. It is a perfectly respectable thing to do, and I do so want to be a help—”

  “As if you weren’t always,” ejaculated the boy.

  “I should think the station might be the best place to start; so drive us over there like a good boy,” urged Desiré.

  So Jack kept René with him, and, with many misgivings, left the girls standing near the steps which lead down from the station to the cab platform. The taxi drivers were too busy trying to outdo one another in securing fares to pay much attention to the girls; for a train had just come in. The first few travelers who hurried through the station to secure a taxi did not even see the little saleswomen. When another group appeared, Desiré stepped forward just as they were getting into a cab.

  “Wouldn’t you like—” she began timidly.

  A haughty-looking elderly woman, who seemed to be the leader of the party, brushed her aside with a curt “No!”

  Scarlet with embarrassment, Desiré shrank back.

  “Don’t mind her, Dissy,” said Priscilla, hugging her sister’s arm. “She’s ugly mean.”