The Mystery of Jockey Hollow Part 32

"It will not take long to explain," said Harry. Then, as simply as he could, he related the offer of the Park Commission. In effect it meant a much better chance than Granny Howe had ever had to prove her claim, a.s.sisted by the best legal minds that could be engaged.

"Isn't that a wonderful Christmas present, Granny!" cried Betty. "Now perhaps we shall get something from the estate and I can finish my studies instead of slaving in that musty library. And d.i.c.k, too! He can go to college now!"

"Does it really mean," asked d.i.c.k, "that we will get some of the money the state has set aside for the purchase of the old Howe property in Jockey Hollow?"

"I think you are pretty certain to get something," said Harry. "It may take considerable time-it's a complicated legal matter-but at least you are going to have your day in court, which you never had before."

There was silence a moment, and Granny, looking from one to another, said gently:

"It is kind of you-more kind than I can appreciate now. I'm all in a flutter!" She laughed a little. "But I have for so long a time given up hope that now I don't just know how to get hopeful again. I don't want to discourage any of you, especially Mr. Pangborn, for I realize all he has done in getting this concession from the Park Commission. But doesn't it all hinge on the fact that papers-deeds, wills, or something-are necessary for me to prove my claim?"

"Yes, I suppose it would be much easier if you had the missing papers,"

said Harry. "But I understand they cannot be found, so we must do the best we can without them."

"They have been lost for many years," sighed Granny. "With them to prove my claim and the claims of my grandchildren, everything would be easy.

Years ago I used to hunt day and night in this old house for those papers, for I always felt they must be hidden here. But I have given up that hope-long ago."

Suddenly a change came over Granny Howe. She arose from the rocker and with a bright smile exclaimed:

"Now, enough of this! I am going to get back my hope! I thank you all from the bottom of my heart-you have been wonderful! I must not be gloomy and doubtful! Wasn't something said about a party?" she went on with a bright glance at Arden. "And all the parties I ever attended were jolly affairs. This must be the same!"

"Hurrah for Granny!" cried Sim. "Now, on with the food!"

Then the party really did begin, and in the intervals of eating, talking, and piling more wood on the blaze, Harry sketched what he thought the probable legal action would be. He offered to take charge for Granny, and his offer was accepted with grateful thanks.

"I suppose," he suggested to the old lady, "that you can't throw any light on the so-called ghostly happenings here?"

"Not the least in the world," laughed Granny. "None of them ever happened in my sight or hearing. I just don't believe them. Though, I suppose, there must be something queer, for there are many stories dating back a long time. And surely those workmen wouldn't act as they did unless something happened. And that one poor man wouldn't purposely slide down an ash-chute, I think. But it's all a mystery to me."

"Do you know any more stories about the place you haven't told us?" asked Arden. "I mean a sort of ghost story that isn't about Patience Howe or Nathaniel Greene?"

"I might manage to remember one," smiled Granny.

"Oh, do tell us!" begged Terry and Sim.

Dorothy was on the outer edge of the little circle about Granny, who sat near the crackling fire. Harry had wandered to a distant window, and Dorothy followed him.

"Are you game?" she whispered to him.

"For what?"

"To go and look for a ghost instead of sitting here listening to stories about one. Come on! I dare you!" she challenged, her eyes sparkling in the hearth glow. "We each can take a flashlight. Let's slip away while the others are listening to Granny tell that story, and see if there isn't a real ghost on some of the upper floors. Night and Christmas Eve ought to be a proper time for a ghost, hadn't it? Will you come with me?"

"I will!" said Harry without a moment of hesitation.

They slipped out of the room, attracting no attention, and, flas.h.i.+ng the beams of their electric torches ahead of them, walked softly up the broad stairs. It was cold and gloomy away from the gay Christmas room, but they did not mind. The spirit of the quest was upon them.

They walked the length of the long upper halls. In a far corner of the second one, where the work of demolition had not started, half hidden by old boards and trash, stood a cedar chest.

"Perhaps," said Dorothy with a nervous little laugh, "the ghost lies in there. If it were a closet we might look for the skeleton. But let's have a look, anyhow."

Harry raised the lid, which was covered with dust and white plaster dust.

Dorothy flashed her light within. Then she uttered a suppressed scream.

For the first glance seemed to show in the chest the body of a woman clad in a red cloak resting beside the form of a Continental soldier with high black boots.

"The ghosts!" murmured Dorothy.

"No, only their garments!" said Harry, laughing. "But I think, Dot, that at last we are on the trail of the mystery!"

CHAPTER XXVII Frightened Screams

Harry tilted the lid of the chest back against the wall, and with both hands now free was thus able to flash the beams of his torch into the box, which was what Dorothy also was doing. The double illumination revealed other garments in the long narrow box. Henry lifted out the old Continental soldier uniform-coat, trousers, a hat, and the heavy boots.

"They have been worn recently," he said. "Not much dust on them."

"And the cloak?" asked Dorothy in a tense voice.

"That, also, has very little dust on it," he said, lifting it out.

Then a daring project came into Dorothy's mind.

"I dare you," she said, "to dress up as the old soldier-just the coat, hat, and boots-and walk with me, in masquerade, into the room where Granny is telling a ghost story. I'll put on the red cloak-and this!"

She reached in and lifted from the chest a white kerchief and a sort of tam-o'-shanter cap.

"Let's be two live ghosts," she proposed. "It will be a fitting end to the Christmas party, and then-well, you said you thought we were near the end of the ghost trail."

"I really believe we are. Somebody has been using these garments to create all this ghost atmosphere in the old Hall. Dorothy, I'll take your dare, and after we have had our fun we will start a new investigation and try to find out who has been responsible for all this."

"This is going to be good!" murmured the girl, a natural actress, as she threw the red cloak about her shoulders after adjusting the kerchief as it might have been worn in Colonial days, crossed on her breast. With the cap jauntily askew on her head, she looked very like the reputed ghost of Patience Howe.

Harry slipped off his shoes, put on the heavy boots, donned the coat and hat, and they were ready. With flashlights held out in front of them to illuminate the dark hall, they started for the lower room whence faintly floated up the laughter following Granny Howe's story.

"It's time we started back," whispered Dorothy. "They will miss us in another moment."

They were near the head of the stairs when, suddenly, the door of a room opened slightly and a light gleamed through the crack. It was the room containing the mysterious closet from which Jim Danton had so strangely vanished, to be found in the cellar.

The door opened wider. Then an old woman, an old woman with a wrinkled face and straggling gray hair, looked out. In one hand she held a small flashlight.

She glared at Harry and Dorothy in their masquerade costumes, and then a look of deadly fear came over her face. She uttered several wild and piercing screams and turned back into the room, still gibbering and gasping.

A second later there was the sound of something wooden moving inside the room-a sound followed by a resounding blow, as though the heavy lid of a chest had fallen.

Another wild scream and then silence.