CHAPTER XX Harry Hears Something
Moselle's involuntary shout of surprise and alarm brought Dorothy on arun to the front door. She gave one look at Terry and Arden seated in theflivver, surrounded by holly branches, another look at Santa Claus, andthen laughingly demanded:
"Where do you play the next performance?"
"It isn't any play, Dot!" called Arden. "Terry's hurt!"
"Hurt!" She was serious in a moment.
"It's only a sprained ankle," said Terry, trying to speak with vigor."All my own fault."
"No, it's my fault," insisted Santa Claus.
Moselle, her eyes almost popping from her head, had retired to the backhall, but was still peeking and listening.
"This is Christmas and then some," said Dorothy. "But whatever happened?"
Explanations were quickly made, amid contrite apologies from Mr. Henshotfor his part in Terry's accident. She was helped into the house and adoctor summoned. Then, having asked several times if he could be of anyfurther service, aside from carrying in the holly branches, which he did,and having been thanked for what he had done, further help beinggraciously declined, the little man took himself away.
"But first," he said, with a jolly laugh, "I'll take off my disguise--allbut my whiskers. I need them. And without my red suit there will be nochance for the children of Bayley Corners to recognize me.
"If you folks haven't anything else to do," he said to Arden and Dorothywhen Terry had been put to bed, with Sim (whose headache was better) tosit beside her, "why, we'd be glad to have you over at the Bayley CornersSunday-school entertainment--me playing the part of Santa Claus after myrehearsals," he chuckled.
"Thank you," murmured Arden, trying to be cheerful about it.
Dr. Ramsdell gave it as his opinion that Terry's ankle wasn't as bad asshe feared. It was strained, not sprained, and bound to be painful, but aday or two of rest would make it all right, the physician said, and shecould get around, though she might want to use a cane for a while.
"You can still go ghost-hunting," said Arden, when they were all gatheredin Terry's room to commiserate with her.
"I'm getting sort of fed up with it," Terry said. "I believe it will allturn out as this ghost of Patience Howe did--in a Santa Claus outfit."
"Well, if we could play Santa Claus to Granny Howe," suggested Arden,"and find some way to do something so she could get the money for thisproperty that has been taken by the state for Jockey Hollow Park, itwould be the best Christmas gift we could give her, I'm sure of that."
"And it would help Dick to his college education and Betty to realize herambition to become an interior decorator," added Sim.
"But I suppose it is too much to hope for," sighed Arden. "I imagine weshall have to be content if we can find the troublesome old ghost."
"Or even if Harry Pangborn finds it," said Terry.
"Oh, yes, we saw him in the Hall," Arden exclaimed. "We forgot to tellyou. There are no workmen tearing the place down now and Harry had it tohimself."
"I wonder if he heard anything or saw anything," spoke Dorothyreflectively.
The doorbell rang. It gave them a sudden start.
"Wouldn't it be sort of--psychic if this was Harry now," exclaimed Sim.
"You should more properly say, 'if this were he, my dear young lady,'"corrected Arden, imitating one of their teachers at Cedar Ridge.
"School is out!" declared Sim. "Yes, Moselle?" she inquired.
"Mr. Pangborn," Moselle announced with dignity.
The girls looked at one another but didn't dare laugh. The sounds mightcarry downstairs.
"Oh, I wish he might come up here and let me hear what happened!" beggedTerry as she saw her three friends rise as if to leave the room.
"I don't see why he can't," spoke Dorothy quickly. "You are quite'decent,' as mother's theatrical friends say when they mean they aredressed enough to have gentlemen friends in their room--with plenty ofchaperons," and she laughed gayly.
"Ask him to come up, Moselle!" Sim ordered with sudden decision.
Harry was not at all abashed by coming into a girl's room while she wasreclining and with three other pretty girls seated around her. Young Mr.Pangborn was not easily flustered. But he did look surprised.
"Well, what happened?" he inquired anxiously as he bowed to each one inturn and went over to Terry in the bed. "Did the bad old ghost get you?"
"Almost," she smiled as he took her hand. "Only it turned out to be aSanta Claus ghost; the real thing, too."
"Tell me," he begged.
They did.
Harry laughed. He absent-mindedly took out his cigarette case and thenquickly put it back in his pocket, and almost as quickly took it out whenSim said: "You may."
"Well, I'm one up on you," he said to Terry and Arden.
"What do you mean?" Arden asked as he blew out a cloud of smoke.
"My ghost got away from me."
"No!"
"Really?"
"Did you see anything?"
This in turn from Arden, Sim, and Terry. Dorothy was getting him an ashtray.
"Oh, tell us!"
This came in a most proper Greek chorus.
"Well," he began, adjusting himself comfortably in the chair that gavehim a view of all the girls, "I began my investigation at the ghost housethis morning. Two of you were witnesses to that." He indicated Terry andArden. They bowed in answer.
"I went all over the old place," the young millionaire resumed, "fromcellar to what was left of the fourth floor. And I found nothing exceptthe old furniture, the beds, a picture of a pretty girl in a green ridinghabit, and some old chests that were locked so I didn't open them. Iunderstand they belong to Mrs. Howe."
"Yes," Arden said. "But didn't you find any secret passage, anything toexplain how Jim Danton disappeared out of that closet and was found inthe cellar? Didn't you discover the remains of the ghost of the oldsoldier, Nathaniel Greene--didn't you find any traces of Patience Howe?"breathlessly Arden demanded to know.
"Not a trace," and Harry shook his head. "I tried to find some secretpassage out of that closet, but I couldn't. My only explanation is thatJim got mixed up and really fell down the big ash-chute. No, I reallydidn't find a thing."
"But you said," interposed Terry, "that you heard----"
"Yes. That's inexplainable. As I was tramping around the old place,pulling at loose boards here and there, suddenly, when I was in the roomwhere, you say, a dead woman was seen on the bed, I heard the mostunearthly groan, screech, yell, or scream. It was a combination of allfour. It gave even me a start, I assure you," he admitted.
"What happened then?"
"What did you do?"
"Who screamed?"
"Didn't you discover anything?"
Dot joined in the questioning this time.
It was a big moment, and Harry was making the most of it.
What young man wouldn't have?