Haunting of Horse Island

by Carolyn Keene

  “At seven-thirty,” Carrie said. “Sharp. Henry doesn’t like us to be late even one minute.”

  The girls said goodbye and returned to their cottage.

  “What an excitable girl Carrie is,” Bess said.

  “She certainly is a character,” Nancy agreed, “although finding your cabin ransacked is a horrible experience. And that threatening note would scare anyone.”

  “I hope they aren’t bothered anymore,” George said.

  “So do I. Let’s change for dinner and then take a walk around the resort,” Nancy suggested. “I’d like to see what’s here.”

  “Good idea,” George agreed.

  “Yeah,” said Bess. “I especially like the dinner part. I’m starved!”

  The girls changed from shorts to casual skirts and blouses and took a walking tour of the resort. The early evening sun was low in the sky, and the air was scented with the aroma of the nearby pine forest. Other guests, mostly couples and families, were out walking, heading toward the lodge for dinner. Their cheerful voices carried on the light breeze off the lake.

  “This place has everything!” Nancy exclaimed. “A lake with a private dock and motorboat for each cottage, a heated swimming pool, stables for horseback riding, tennis courts—”

  “A recreation cabin,” George chimed in, “and an archery field—”

  “And a dining room with food!” Bess said. “Let’s eat!”

  “I’m for that,” said George.

  “This resort is famous for its good food,” George told Bess and Nancy as the girls headed toward the lodge. “Dad said people come back year after year just for the meals at the lodge.”

  “This is going to be a terrific week, then,” Bess said heartily.

  They arrived at the restaurant, and the hostess led the girls to their table, next to a window overlooking the lake. They all ordered the night’s special, fried chicken.

  Their waitress, a young woman wearing a name tag that said Margie, smiled. “You’ll love it,” she said. “It’s better than any fried chicken you’ve ever tasted.”

  “Great!” Bess said.

  “Say, maybe you can tell us,” Nancy said to Margie. “We’re interested in the two singers, Ann and Carrie Burkle.”

  Margie smiled. “Have you seen them perform?” Nancy shook her head. “They sing very well,” Margie said. “And they’re pretty funny. I don’t think they mean to be funny, though.”

  “Are they friends of yours?” Nancy asked.

  “Well, we’re not close or anything,” Margie said. “But everybody likes them.” She eyed Nancy curiously. “Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, no reason,” Nancy said. “We just met them this afternoon, and they seemed very nice.”

  Margie smiled cheerfully. “Yeah, they are. Well, I’d better get this order in for you.”

  “Looking for the sisters’ enemies?” George asked Nancy after Margie had left.

  “I guess,” Nancy said. “They just don’t seem like the type of girls who would cultivate enemies.”

  “I know what you mean,” said George.

  “No, they don’t,” Bess added.

  A woman and a man holding a little boy’s hand came in and seated themselves at the next table. “But, Mommy, I don’t want to leave!” the boy wailed.

  “Honey, our reservations are for three more days,” the man pleaded with his wife.

  “Well, I just feel too nervous here,” the woman insisted. “Those bloodcurdling screams this afternoon! That was the final straw!”

  Nancy and the girls looked at one another.

  “Excuse me,” Nancy said, leaning over toward the family. “We couldn’t help overhearing. I can explain those screams this afternoon—”

  “What on earth was going on?” the woman demanded.

  “Two members of the staff had their cottage ransacked,” Nancy explained. “But nothing was taken.” Nancy felt there was no reason to tell the family about the threatening note. “It could have been just a mean prank,” she added.

  “Ransacked?” the woman said. “That’s it! We’re leaving!”

  “Honey,” the man said.

  “But, Mom—” the boy cried.

  “No buts!” his mother said. “We’re leaving! This place is too scary!”

  “You mean there’ve been other things going on?” Nancy asked.

  “You’d better believe it!” the woman told her. “Yesterday, my husband found a live snake in his tackle box! He had shut it tight the night before and left it in the boat. Someone obviously put it there during the night!”

  “Was it—” Bess began.

  “No, it wasn’t poisonous,” said the woman, “but we didn’t know that! There are poisonous snakes in the area. I nearly had a heart attack!”

  “Maybe it was a joke,” George said.

  “Some joke!” the woman huffed indignantly.

  “Yes, there are strange things going on,” a voice chimed in from the other side of the girls’ table. They turned to see a middle-aged man and his wife, who had been following the conversation. “Someone’s been prowling around our cottage at night, tapping on the windows.”

  “Did you investigate?” Nancy asked.

  “Of course,” the man said. “And we called the Steadmans, even though the tapping occurred twice in the middle of the night. But by the time Henry Steadman arrived—both times—the person was gone.”

  The man’s wife leaned over. “I know that tapping on the window doesn’t sound terribly dangerous, but let me tell you, when you’re awakened in the dead of night by someone standing out in the darkness—”

  “Oh, that sounds scary enough to me!” Bess said with a shiver of fear in her voice.

  “See what I mean?” the first woman said, nodding. “That’s why we’re leaving. I’m not going to wait until something really bad happens and someone gets hurt.”

  “What does Mr. Steadman say about all this?” Nancy asked. “He must be very concerned.” Now Henry’s worried glances at his wife made sense to Nancy.

  “He’s more concerned about his pocketbook,” the first woman said. “He’s afraid all the guests will leave. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do!”

  “Are you leaving, too?” Nancy asked, turning to the older couple.

  “No,” the man said. “At least not yet. I don’t want to let some jokester scare me out of my vacation.”

  “Good,” Nancy said. “I’m sure these things will end, or we’ll find out who’s behind them.”

  Margie brought the girls’ salads, and the other diners began talking among themselves.

  “Margie,” Nancy said, “we’ve just been hearing about some strange things going on here. Have you heard about them?”

  Margie’s mouth tightened into a thin line. She lowered her voice. “I know what you’re talking about,” she said, “but the staff has been given strict orders not to discuss it with the guests.”

  “Has anything happened to you?” Nancy whispered.

  “No,” Margie said. “And I’m hoping nothing will.”

  “Is this your first summer working here?” Nancy asked her.

  “No, it’s my third, and nothing weird ever happened here before this,” said Margie. She hurried off to wait on another table.

  Bess shivered. “I thought this was going to be a relaxing week.”

  “Me, too,” said George. “But it’s a shame the Steadmans are having so much trouble here.”

  “Yes, it is,” Nancy agreed. “Let’s talk to them later.”

  After dinner the girls found Henry Steadman behind the registration desk. “Henry, could we talk to you?” George asked.

  “Of course,” said Henry, a worry line creasing his wide brow. The girls huddled around the desk. Fortunately, no other guests were within earshot.

  “Henry,” George said, lowering her voice, “we’ve been hearing about some pretty weird things going on here. What’s happening?”

  “I don’t know,” Henry said seriously.
“I wish I did. Ruth and I have been here for twenty years, and nothing like this has ever happened before.”

  “Do you have any reason to think that someone might be angry with you?” Nancy asked.

  Henry shook his head. “I mean, everyone has arguments occasionally with people, but I can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt me or my wife.”

  “We overheard one of your guests say that she and her family are leaving,” George told him.

  Henry nodded. “The incident with the snake. I can understand why that would upset her.”

  “Another couple told us they’ve had prowlers,” Nancy said.

  “And now the Burkle sisters!” Bess said.

  “What?” cried Henry, surprised. “What happened to the girls?”

  “Their cottage was ransacked,” Nancy said. “Nothing was taken, but they were pretty upset.” Nancy told Henry about the note and that Ann and Carrie had no idea who could have written it.

  “They didn’t tell me,” Henry said. He shook his head. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Why don’t you have Nancy investigate?” George proposed. “You won’t find a better detective anywhere.”

  Henry looked up hopefully. “Would you, Nancy?” he asked. “I know you came here for a relaxing week, but if you could—”

  “I’d be happy to,” Nancy assured him. “We’ll have a good week, and in the meantime, I’ll nose around and see what I can find out.”

  Henry’s worried expression faded a bit. “Thank you, Nancy,” he said. “I really would appreciate anything you could do.”

  “Don’t worry,” George said. “If anyone can find out what’s going on, Nancy can.”

  The girls left the lodge and walked toward their cottage.

  “I just hope these weird things aren’t the work of a ghost,” Bess said. “Maybe it wants the lake to itself and it’s trying to scare people away!”

  “I doubt that.” Nancy laughed. “A snake in a tackle box and a ransacked cottage sound like the work of human beings to me.”

  “It’s hard to believe all this could be going on at such a peaceful place,” said George.

  The girls stopped at their cottage door, and George pulled the key out of her pocket.

  Just then a loud crash came from inside their cottage!

  3

  Island Lore

  “Quick!” said Nancy. “Let’s catch them in the act!”

  George shoved open the unlocked door. Nancy and George sprang into the room with Bess right behind.

  “Anything in your room?” Nancy called to George, who had charged into her bedroom.

  “The screen is unlocked and open,” George hollered back.

  Nancy ran into the bedroom she was sharing with Bess. Nothing was disturbed.

  At that moment Bess let out a shriek in the living room. Nancy and George raced out of the bedrooms.

  “What is it?” Nancy cried out.

  Bess stood frozen next to the door. She pointed slowly into the kitchen.

  Nancy ran to the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks.

  There on the countertop sat a fat raccoon. The girls had left their picnic basket out, and the raccoon was helping itself to an apple left over from their lunch. The basket was tipped over on the counter, and three empty soda cans had landed on the kitchen floor.

  “Oh!” gasped Bess, walking to the kitchen. “I had no idea raccoons were so big!”

  “They have sharp claws, too,” added George, joining them. “Don’t get too close.”

  The raccoon had backed into a corner behind a toaster, a trapped, frightened look in its eyes.

  Nancy, Bess, and George stepped out of the kitchen. “What do we do now?” asked Bess.

  “I have an idea,” said Nancy. She grabbed her knapsack off the table and took out a small bag of pretzels. “Maybe this will appeal to him,” she said, tearing open the cellophane bag. Nancy walked into the kitchen and lifted the screen in the window over the sink.

  Then Bess and George followed Nancy out the door and around to the kitchen window. Standing on her tiptoes, Nancy placed one pretzel on the windowsill. The raccoon eyed it cautiously. Nancy dropped another pretzel on the ground below it, making a trail of pretzels leading away from the cabin.

  The girls stood off to one side of the cabin and watched as the raccoon poked its head out the window and grabbed the first pretzel. Then it scrambled down the side of the cabin after the remaining pretzels.

  Quickly Nancy, Bess, and George ran back into the cabin. Bess slammed down the kitchen screen. “Boy, raccoons look so adorable in picture books, but they’re a little scary in person.”

  George laughed. “That’s my cousin, a real country girl.”

  “They are bigger than you think,” said Nancy, smiling. “I’m glad we could lure him out. Henry has enough problems right now without worrying about getting rid of a raccoon.”

  “Do you think the raccoon could have been the culprit in the Burkle sisters’ cottage?” asked George.

  Nancy shook her head. “The note. Remember?”

  “That’s right. How could I forget that note?” said George, dropping down into one of the living room chairs.

  “How do you think the raccoon got in?” Bess asked, looking around a little nervously.

  “Probably my bedroom window,” George said. “There’s a tree right outside it, and I’m sure the raccoon could have climbed up it and then gotten in through the window.”

  “We’d better be more careful about locking this place up,” Bess said, “with all that’s been happening around here.”

  Bess stretched out on the couch. “I don’t know about you guys,” she said, “but I’ve had enough thrills for one day. I’m going to bed early.”

  “Good idea,” agreed Nancy, kicking off her sneakers. “I have the feeling we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

  • • •

  “I haven’t canoed in a long time,” said George the next morning as the girls neared the boat house on the lake. “This will be great.” They had risen early, eaten a breakfast of waffles and strawberries at the lodge, and signed up for the guided canoe trip.

  “We’ll get a chance to see more of the area,” Nancy said. “Maybe we’ll even get a look at Horse Island.”

  “Please,” groaned Bess. “Do we have to go looking for ghosts?”

  As the girls laughed, a handsome man in his late twenties approached them from the dock. His dark blond hair fluttered in the light breeze off the lake. A pair of sunglasses was perched on his nose. “Hello, ladies,” he greeted them.

  “Hi,” they responded.

  “Here for the canoe trip?” he asked.

  “Yep,” said Bess pertly.

  “Great. I’m Steve Matheson, the Steadmans’ activities director. I’ll be your guide.”

  After introducing themselves, Nancy, Bess, and George followed Steve down to the dock. Other guests soon arrived for the trip. The first to show up were a young couple, Jeff and Cindy. They announced almost immediately that they were on their honeymoon. Then came the older couple who’d spoken to Nancy and the girls about the prowler at their window. They introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Savage. Last to arrive was the Mathew family, a man and woman and their two little girls: Heather, who was nine years old, and Jessica, who was two years younger.

  “Okay,” said Steve, consulting his sign-up sheet. “We’re all here. Who knows how to handle the stern of a canoe?”

  “The what?” asked Jessica.

  “I guess that means you don’t.” Steve chuckled. “The canoe is steered from the stern. That’s a fancy way of saying the back of the boat. You need to know how to do what we call a J-stroke to keep the boat on course.”

  George raised her hand. She’d gone on many canoeing trips and was expert at handling a boat. Nancy also knew how to handle an oar. So did Mr. Mathew, Mrs. Savage, and Jeff.

  “Super,” said Steve. “We have a pilot for each group. The canoes are stacked in the boat
house. So are the life jackets. Let’s get going.”

  Soon the boats were all in the water, and the group was paddling out onto the lake. “I forgot my suntan oil,” Bess said from her seat in the middle of the canoe between George and Nancy.

  “Forget the oil and use the sunblock I threw into the canoe next to you,” cautioned George. “These aluminum canoes are like reflectors for the sun. You can get fried out here.”

  “Oh, thanks,” said Bess.

  Steve led the group along the shoreline, around a bend, and into a small cove. “Hold up here,” he called, raising his tanned arm. The canoers pulled up next to one another, and Steve turned his canoe so that he was facing them.

  “Look sharp and you may see some deer along the shore,” he told them. “We also have foxes and skunks—”

  “Not to mention raccoons,” George said, and Nancy and Bess chuckled.

  “What about the horses?” asked Heather Mathew.

  “What horses?” Steve asked.

  Heather pointed to the island about a mile off in the middle of the lake. “Isn’t that Horse Island?”

  Steve nodded. “There used to be wild horses living there,” he explained, “but they were removed and tamed years ago.”

  “Oh,” the girl said glumly. “You mean there are no wild horses there anymore?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Steve told her.

  Bess asked the question that had been on her mind since they had arrived. “I hear the island is haunted,” she said with a nervous laugh. “I don’t suppose there’s any truth to those stories, is there?”

  “We heard that, too,” Cindy said, glancing at her new husband. Then she turned back to Steve. “Have you ever seen ghosts near there?”

  “No, I can’t say that I have,” he said, smiling. Then he grew serious and gazed at each of the guests individually. “But Horse Island is off-limits to the guests at the resort,” he told them. “And there is a very good reason for that. Even though hunting is illegal at this time of year, there are people who go to the island every summer and kill wildlife. These people are irresponsible with their weapons and act as if they’re having a big party. A couple of years ago, three Steadman guests decided to explore the island, and two of them were accidentally shot by careless hunters.”