The Girl Detective Megapack: 25 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls

by Mildred A. Wirt

  The “something” consisted of a generous platter of mountain trout, fresh from the stream and fried to a golden brown, French fried potatoes, a salad, and cherry pie.

  “Dear me, after such a meal, we may not be able to get to Raven Ridge,” Penny remarked, finishing her second piece of pie. “I never ate so much in my life.”

  “Did you say you were going to Raven Ridge?” Mrs. Stevens inquired.

  “Yes, we’re waiting now to have a tire patched.”

  “You’re the second party through here today that’s heading for Raven Ridge,” Mrs. Stevens informed. “A man stopped for lunch about an hour ago. Only he thought it wasn’t cooked well enough for him.”

  “He must have been particular,” Penny commented. “What did he look like?”

  “He was tall and dark and he had a sharp way of watching one.”

  “I wonder if it could have been that man who passed us on the road?” Penny mused. “Was he driving a gray coupé?”

  “Yes, I believe he was.”

  Penny was convinced that the man Mrs. Stevens described was the same person who had declined to help her on the road. She wondered what business took him to Raven Ridge. Could she have been mistaken in believing him to be the thief who had stolen the diamond ring?

  Paying for the luncheon, the girls went back to the garage. The tire was ready for them. Soon they were on their way again.

  They had driven for perhaps an hour when Penny observed that the road seemed to be leading them out of the mountains. She began to wonder if they had taken a wrong turn. She stopped at the next filling station to inquire. To her dismay, she was told that she had traveled nearly twenty miles out of her way.

  “I thought this didn’t seem like the right road,” Penny declared ruefully to her companion. “Now we’ll be lucky to get to Raven Ridge by dinner time, to say nothing of returning to Mt. Ashland tonight.”

  “I’ve put you to a great deal of trouble,” Rosanna said regretfully.

  “Not at all. This trip to Raven Ridge is an adventure, and I like it. It will be more fun to stay over night anyway.”

  An occasional road marker reassured the girls that at last they were on the right highway. The mountain curves were sharp, and Penny did not make as good time as she had anticipated. She became a little alarmed to see that storm clouds were rapidly gathering.

  “It looks as if we may have rain,” Rosanna commented.

  “A great deal of it, I’d judge. Those clouds are black as ink.”

  In less than half an hour the storm struck them in full force. A great gust of wind dashed huge drops of water against the windshield, there was a vivid flash of lightning, then the rain came down in steady sheets.

  Even with the wiper going Penny could see only a few feet ahead of the windshield. She pulled up under a huge oak tree at the side of the road. The girls waited a quarter of an hour and still the rain fell in torrents. At length, however, it slackened slightly, and not wishing to lose any more time, Penny cautiously drove on.

  “It can’t last much longer,” Rosanna said optimistically.

  Despite her hopeful words, the rain showed no sign of stopping. Penny reconciled herself to a slow pace for the remainder of the journey. She was beginning to grow tired. Her back and arms ached and it was a strain to keep such close watch of the road.

  With the sun hidden from view, night came on early. Nervous at the thought of driving over unfamiliar mountain roads after dark, the girls did not stop for dinner. Nine o’clock, in a pouring rain, found them drawn up at a filling station to inquire how much farther it was to Raven Ridge.

  “Why, you’re practically there now,” the attendant informed. “What place are you looking for?”

  “The Jacob Winters’ estate,” Penny replied.

  “Then keep on this road for about two miles more. When you come to the top of the ridge, take the gravel road to the left. It will lead you to the house. There’s no one there though, unless maybe a caretaker.”

  “Oh,” Penny murmured, “then perhaps you can direct us to a place where we can spend the night.”

  “The nearest is at the town of Andover, five miles beyond the Winters’ place.”

  The girls thanked the man for his assistance, and once more followed the winding road up the mountainside.

  “Shall we go on to Andover or stop at the Winters’ house?” Penny asked her companion.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Rosanna faltered. “We’re both so tired.”

  “The place surely must have a caretaker, Rosanna. Let’s take a chance and stop.”

  At the top of the ridge they watched for the gravel road and were elated to find it. The entrance was barred by a white gate. Rosanna stepped out in the rain to open it.

  “This may have been a foolish thing to do,” Penny admitted as they drove between tall rows of whispering pines. “We could have gone on to Andover only I dreaded driving down the mountainside with slippery roads.”

  Rosanna huddled closer to her friend. The road was dark and the rustling of the wind in the pine needles made her uneasy.

  Soon they came within view of the house. It was built of native stone, half hidden by the luxuriant growth of shrubbery and trees which surrounded it. No lights gleamed in the windows.

  “There’s no one here,” Rosanna declared.

  “Let’s knock anyway. The caretaker may be at the rear somewhere.”

  They parked the car as close to the front door as possible and made a dash for the porch. Penny knocked several times on the massive door but there was no response.

  “We might try your key, Rosanna,” she proposed. “If it fits I’ll begin to think there’s something to that mysterious letter you received.”

  Rosanna groped in her pocketbook for the key. Impatient for action, Penny turned the handle of the door. To her astonishment the latch clicked.

  “Why, the door is already unlocked, Rosanna!”

  “But of course we won’t dare go in.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, it doesn’t seem right. The people may not be at home.”

  “Someone must be around or the door wouldn’t be unlocked. Besides, you have a key, Rosanna. And according to the letter, this is your inheritance.”

  Penny swung wide the door. She peered inside but could see nothing. Her hand groped for the electric switch. She found the button by the door and pressed it. Instantly everything was flooded with light.

  The girls found themselves in a long, narrow living room. The ceiling was beamed, the furniture was rustic, and a great fireplace occupied one end of the wall.

  Penny crossed over to the hearth. There was no fire but logs were in readiness to make one.

  “I don’t feel right about coming in here,” Rosanna said nervously.

  “Nonsense, if it’s your property you’re not trespassing,” Penny insisted. “Besides, it looks to me as if you were expected, for everything seems in readiness for guests. I’m going to build a fire and see if I can’t thaw out my chilled bones.”

  Reluctantly, Rosanna went to help her. Soon they had a roaring fire in the hearth. As they grew more comfortable they took more interest in their surroundings. The room was plainly but expensively furnished. Curious objects from many lands occupied the tables and bric-a-brac shelves.

  “Your uncle must have lived an interesting life,” Penny commented, picking up a tiny ivory box from a nearby stand.

  “Yes, Mother often told me—”

  Rosanna’s voice broke in the midst of the sentence. Turning, Penny saw that her friend’s eyes were fastened upon the window. All color had drained from Rosanna’s face. Her eyes were dilated with fear.

  “What is it?” Penny demanded.

  Rosanna clutched her hand.

  “I saw someone just then,” she whispered. “A man’s face at the window!”

  CHAPTER V

  The Lost Key

  Penny turned quickly toward the window. She saw nothing save the rain trickling down
the panes.

  “You must have imagined it, Rosanna.”

  “No, I didn’t. I know I saw a face.”

  Rosanna huddled close to Penny. She was afraid.

  “I’ll go and look out,” Penny proposed daringly.

  Before Rosanna could stop her she moved to the door and flung it open. A man in oilskins confronted her. His face was half hidden by the felt hat which he wore low over his eyes.

  “What do you want?” Penny asked nervously.

  Without answering, the man stepped into the room. Under the electric light he did not look as terrifying as he had at first glance. Penny saw when he swept off his dripping hat that he was an elderly man although spry for his years. She felt slightly reassured.

  “I came to find out what you mean by entering Mr. Winters’ house when he’s away?” the man demanded curtly. “Don’t stand there staring like a blind owl! Answer.”

  Rosanna had completely lost her power of speech, so Penny tried to explain the situation. She told how they had been caught by the storm and mentioned Rosanna’s key and letter which gave her right to investigate the property.

  “So you’re old Jacob Winters’ niece?” the man questioned gruffly, peering intently at Rosanna. “At least that’s what you say.”

  “Of course he’s my uncle, although I never saw him,” Rosanna defended. “I can prove it by my letter.”

  “Probably wrote it yourself,” the man snapped. “But let’s see it anyway.”

  “Just a minute,” Penny interposed, feeling that it was time the newcomer answered a few questions of his own. “Are you the caretaker of this house?”

  “Yes, and no. I’m a neighbor of Mr. Winters and he asked me to keep an eye on his house while he was away. I saw the light in the windows and came to see what was wrong.”

  “My uncle is dead,” Rosanna said quietly. “I have inherited the estate.”

  “Jacob Winters dead!” the man exploded. “Why, I had a card from him last week. Mailed from some place down in Africa. Let me see that letter you claim to have.”

  Rosanna opened her pocketbook and searched for it. A troubled look came over her face. She was certain she had placed both the letter and the key in the inside compartment. Now she could find neither.

  “So you haven’t got it?” the man said suspiciously.

  “I must have it somewhere. I can’t imagine how I misplaced it. You remember the letter don’t you, Penny?”

  “Of course. You had it in your pocketbook the last time I saw it. We’re telling you the absolute truth Mr.—”

  “Caleb Eckert,” he supplied. “If you didn’t have a key how did you get into the house?”

  “Why, the door was open—that is, it was unlocked,” Penny explained.

  Caleb Eckert peered at her sharply as if trying to make up his mind if she were speaking the truth. Rosanna, who by this time had emptied her purse out upon the table, was growing more upset every minute.

  “Oh, let’s leave this house, Penny,” she burst out. “I’ve lost the letter and the key and so we’ve no right to be here at all. I didn’t mean to trespass. I wish we’d never have come at all. That letter has caused me so much grief.”

  Rosanna looked as if she might cry at any moment. Caleb Eckert softened.

  “Now, I wouldn’t want you to go out into this storm. As far as I’m concerned you may stay here for the night.”

  “We don’t care to intrude,” Rosanna said stiffly.

  “It isn’t safe to go down the mountain in this rain,” the man declared, adopting a more friendly tone. “Now don’t be offended by the way I acted. My bark is worse than my bite.”

  “We can’t blame you for being suspicious,” Penny admitted. “It may be that someone played a joke on Rosanna in sending her the letter and key. We were afraid of that from the first.”

  Caleb Eckert’s eyes roved to the crackling fire, then to the splattered windows.

  “Tell you what,” he proposed gruffly. “You girls stay here for the night. In the morning we’ll see if we can’t straighten things out.”

  “But if Mr. Winters is alive we have no right to use this house,” Rosanna protested weakly.

  “You’re his niece, aren’t you?” Caleb demanded. “Jacob Winters wouldn’t turn anyone out in a storm, much less one of his own kin folks. Have you had supper?”

  The girls admitted that they had not had any food since lunch time. Caleb led them to the kitchen, showing them where canned goods were stored.

  “If you’re handy with a can opener there’s no need to starve,” he declared.

  The girls thanked him for his trouble. Rosanna timidly ventured a few questions concerning her uncle.

  “Did you never see him?” Caleb asked.

  “No, once I wrote him a letter but he never answered. I’ve heard Uncle Jacob was very eccentric.”

  “Some might call him that. He liked to live alone and mind his own business which is more than most folks do. He traveled a lot too. I guess he must have visited every country in the world.” He added slyly: “If Jacob is dead, you’ll come into possession of some valuable things.”

  “I hope that nothing has happened to him,” Rosanna said sincerely. “I don’t really care for riches. All I want is a home.”

  “Jacob Winters never liked girls.”

  “I know,” Rosanna sighed. “I guess that’s why he never answered my letter.”

  “You counted a lot on the inheritance, didn’t you?” Caleb questioned shrewdly.

  Rosanna flushed but did not deny the accusation.

  “I thought that it might make my future more secure,” she acknowledged. “Since Mother died I’ve battered around from one rooming house to another. But even if I don’t come into the inheritance, I’ll be glad that my uncle is still alive.”

  “I don’t know that he is,” Caleb Eckert said hastily. “He was alive when he sent that postcard from Africa. Since then we’ve had no word from him here at Raven Ridge.”

  While the girls prepared food for themselves, Caleb sat by the kitchen stove watching. He showed them how to start a fire in the range but would not partake of supper when it was cooked.

  “Had mine four hours ago. I’ll show you where you can sleep and be getting on home.”

  “Do you live near here?” Penny asked curiously.

  “Not far. If the rain would let up you could see my cabin through the dining room window. It’s perched on the edge of the cliff, overlooking Lake Chippewa.”

  Rosanna remarked that the scenery around Raven Ridge must be beautiful.

  “’Tis,” Caleb agreed enthusiastically. “You’ll have to walk down to the lake in the morning. There are some mighty pretty trails to follow too.”

  “If we have time before we go, we’ll surely explore,” Penny promised.

  Caleb conducted them upstairs, opening the door of one of the bedrooms. It was stuffy and dusty but otherwise ready for occupancy. Penny turned back the coverlet of the bed and found that it was equipped with clean sheets and blankets. The furniture was massive and all hand carved.

  “I guess you can make out here for one night,” Caleb said.

  “We’ll be very comfortable,” Penny assured him.

  Returning to the lower floor, Caleb lighted his lantern and prepared to leave. With his hand on the door knob he turned to face the girls again.

  “Oh, yes, there was something I forgot to mention. If you hear queer noises in the night don’t be upset.”

  “Queer noises?” Penny echoed.

  Caleb nodded soberly.

  “Folks around here claim the house is haunted but I never took stock in such stories myself. I just thought I’d warn you.”

  And before the girls could recover from their astonishment, he firmly closed the door, disappearing into the rain.

  CHAPTER VI

  Midnight Visitors

  “I wish,” Rosanna commented emphatically, “that I had never brought you to this queer old house.”

  Penny la
ughed as she went over to the fireplace and dropped on another stick of wood. She stood watching the sparks fly up the chimney.

  “I think Caleb Eckert was only trying to be funny when he warned us of ghosts,” she declared. “At any rate, I’m too tired and sleepy to care much whether the place is haunted or not.”

  “It’s a good night to sleep,” Rosanna admitted, going to the window. “I believe the storm is getting worse.”

  Rain pounded steadily upon the roof and the wind was rising. It whistled weirdly around the corners of the house. The tall maple trees which shaded the front porch bent and twisted and snapped.

  For a time the girls sat before the fire. Presently Penny suggested that they retire.

  “I don’t believe I can sleep a wink tonight,” Rosanna protested. “Even though Caleb Eckert said it was all right for us to stay here, I don’t feel entirely easy about it.”

  “I don’t see why not,” Penny protested as they mounted the creaking stairs to their bedroom. “According to the letter, you’ve inherited the house. And you have a key.”

  “I had a key you mean. I can’t understand how or where I lost it.”

  In thinking back over the activities of the day, Rosanna could not recall taking either the key or the letter from her purse. However, several times for one purpose or another she had opened her pocketbook, and it was quite likely that the articles had fallen out unobserved. She thought possibly she might find them on the floor of Penny’s car. She intended to search in the morning.

  The upstairs room was damp and chilly. The girls hurriedly prepared to retire. Penny put up the window, snapped out the light and made a great running leap which landed her in bed.

  “Listen to the wind howl,” she murmured, snuggling drowsily into her pillow. “Just the night for ghosts to be abroad.”

  “Don’t!” Rosanna shivered, gripping her friend’s hand. “I can almost imagine that someone is coming up the stairway now! I’m afraid of this lonely old house.”

  “I won’t let any mean old ghost get you,” Penny chuckled teasingly. “I love stormy nights.”

  Rosanna lay awake long after her companion had fallen asleep. She listened restlessly to the crash of the tree branches against the roof, the creaking of old timbers and boards. But the steady beat of rain on the windowpanes had a soothing effect upon tense nerves. Presently she dozed.