Page 1 of The Phantom Yacht




  Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morganand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team athttps://www.pgdp.net

  "_Look! Look!" he cried. "That's what I was wantin' to find._" (_Page 101_) (_The Phantom Yacht_)

  THE PHANTOM YACHT

  _By_ CAROL NORTON

  Author of "Bobs, A Girl Detective," "The Seven Sleuths' Club," etc.

  A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York Printed in U. S. A.

  MYSTERY _and_ ADVENTURE SERIES _for_ GIRLS 12 TO 16 YEARS OF AGE

  The Phantom Yacht, by Carol Norton. Bobs, A Girl Detective, by Carol Norton. The Seven Sleuths' Club, by Carol Norton. The Phantom Treasure, by Harriet Pyne Grove. The Secret of Steeple Rocks, by Harriet Pyne Grove.

  Copyright, 1928 By A. L. BURT COMPANY

  CONTENTS

  I. Friends Parted 3 II. Banishing Ghosts 13 III. A Lost Mother 21 IV. Seaward Bound 30 V. A New Experience 42 VI. A Light in the Dark 49 VII. The Phantom Yacht 56 VIII. What Happened 64 IX. A Mysterious Message 73 X. Sounds in the Loft 82 XI. A Querulous Old Aunt 88 XII. A Bleached Skeleton 96 XIII. Belling the Ghost 106 XIV. A Punt Ride 112 XV. A Gloomy Swamp 117 XVI. Out in the Dark 121 XVII. More Mysteries 127 XVIII. An Airplane Sighted 133 XIX. Two Boys Investigate 139 XX. One Mystery Solved 149 XXI. A channel in the Swamp 160 XXII. The Old Ruin at Midnight 170 XXIII. Letters of Importance 183 XXIV. A Surprising Revelation 193 XXV. Puzzled Again 205 XXVI. A Clue to the Old Ruin Mystery 214 XXVII. Ransacking the Old Ruin 224 XXVIII. The Best Surprise of All 239

  THE PHANTOM YACHT

  CHAPTER I. FRIENDS PARTED

  The face of Dories Moore was as dismal as the day was bright. It wasIndian summer and the maple trees under which she was hurrying werejoyfully arrayed in red and gold, while crimson, yellow and purpleflowers nodded at her from the gardens that she passed with unseeingeyes. She was almost blinded with tears; her scarlet tam was awry, asthough she had put it on hurriedly, and her sweater coat, of the samecheerful hue, was unbuttoned and flapping as she fairly ran down thevillage street. In her hand was a note which had been the cause of thetears and the haste. On it were a few penciled words:

  "Dori dear, we are leaving sooner than we expected. I'm sending this toyou by little Johnnie-next-door. Do come right over and say good-bye tosomeone who loves you best of all.

  "Your sister-friend, "Nann."

  At a large old colonial house at the edge of the town, just where themeadows began, the girl turned in at a lilac-guarded gate and hurried upthe neatly graveled walk. Her eyes were again brimming with tears as sheglanced up at the curtainless windows that looked as dismal and desertedas she felt. Hurrying up the steps, she lifted the quaintly carved oldiron knocker and shuddered as she heard the sound echoing uncannilythrough the big unfurnished rooms. Her sensitive mouth quivered when sheheard the sound of running feet on bare floors and when the door wasflung open by another girl of about the same age, Dori leaped in and,throwing her arms about her friend, she burst into tears.

  "Why, Dories! Dear, dear Dori, don't cry so hard." There were suddentears in the warm brown eyes of Nann Sibbett, as for a moment she heldher friend tenderly close.

  "One might think that I was going a million miles away." She tried tospeak cheerfully. "Boston isn't so very far from Elmwood and some day,soon, I am sure that you will be coming to visit me."

  An April-like smile flickered tremulously on the lips of the younger girlas she stepped back and straightened her tam. "Well, that is something tolook forward to," she confessed. "It will be a little strip of silverlining to as black a cloud as ever came into my life. Of course," Doriesamended, "losing father was terrible, but I was too young to know theloneliness of it, and being poor when we should be rich is awfully hard.Sometimes I feel so rebellious, O, nobody knows how rebellious I feel.But losing one's money is nothing compared to losing one's only friend."

  The other girl, who was taller by half a head, actually laughed. "Why,Dories Moore, here you talk as though you would not have a single friendleft when I have moved away. There isn't a girl at High who hasn't beengreen with envy because I have had the good fortune to be your bestfriend ever since we were in kindergarten, and just as soon as I'm out oftown they'll be swarming around you, each one aspiring to be your pal."

  There was a scornful curl on the sensitive lips of the listener. "Asthough I would let anyone have your place, Nann Sibbett. Never, never,never, not if I live to be a thousand years old." Then with an appealingupward glance, "But you'll probably like some city girl heaps better thanyou ever did me. I suppose you'll forget all about me soon."

  "Silly!" Nann exclaimed brightly, giving her friend an impulsive hug."Don't you remember when you were eleven and I was twelve, we had aceremony out in the meadow under the twin elms and we vowed, just assolemnly as we knew how, that we would be adopted sisters and that realborn sisters could not be closer."

  Dories nodded, smiling again at the pleasant recollection. "Do you know,Nann," she put in, "I sort of feel that we were intended to be sisterssome way. It was such a strange coincidence that our birthdays happenedto fall on the same day, the third of September."

  "Maybe if they hadn't," Nann chimed in, "you and I wouldn't have beenbest friends at all, for, don't you remember, way back in kindergartendays, you were so shy you didn't make friends with anyone, and when MissSally wanted to find a seat for you that very first morning, she chose mebecause it was our birthday. After that, since I was a year older, I feltthat I ought to look out for you just as a big sister really should."

  Dories nodded, then as she glanced into the bare library, in the widedoorway of which they were standing, she said dismally, "O, Nann, whatgood times we've had in this room. I can almost see now when we were verylittle girls curled up on that window seat near the fireplace studyingour first primer, and on and on until last June when we were cramming forour sophomore finals."

  "I know." Nann looked wistfully toward the corner which Dories hadindicated. "I don't believe we will either of us know how to studyalone." Then, fearing that tears would come again, she caught herfriend's hand as she exclaimed, "Dories dear, this room is too full ofghosts of our past. Let's go out in the garden. Dad had to go to the bankto
finish up some business, and I had to stay here to see that the lastload of furniture got off safely. It left just before you came. We'regoing to store it for a time and live in a very fine hotel in Boston.Won't that be a lark for a change?"

  Dories spoke bitterly, "Well, for one thing I _am_ thankful, and that isthat your father didn't lose his money the way my father did, though howit happened I never knew and mother never told me."

  "Maybe it will all come back some time in a manner just as mysterious,"her friend said cheerfully as she led her down the steps around thehouse. Neither of the girls spoke of Nann's dear mother, who had sorecently died, and whose passing had made life in the old houseunendurable to the daughter and her father, but they were both thinkingof her as they wandered into the garden which she had so loved. Nannslipped an arm about her friend as she paused to look at the blossoms.

  "Autumn flowers are always so bright and cheerful, aren't they, Dori?"She was determined to change the younger girl's dismal trend of thought."That bed of scarlet salvia over by the evergreen hedge seems to be justrejoicing about something, and the asters, of almost every color, look asthough they were dressed for a party. They're happy, if we aren't."

  "Stupid things!" Dories said petulantly. "They don't know or care becauseyou, who have tended and watered and loved them, are going away foreverand ever."

  "Yes, they do know," Nann said, smiling a bit tremulously, "for lastnight when I came out to give them a drink, I told them all about it, butthey're just trying to make the best of it. They know it's as hard for meto go away from my old home as it is for them to have me go, but they'retrying to make it easier for me, I guess."

  Dories flashed a quick glance up at her companion. Then, impulsively,"Oh, Nann, how selfish I always am! Of course it's hard for you to leaveyour old home and go among strangers. Here all the time I've just beenthinking how _hard_ it is for _me_ to have you go." Then, making a littlebow toward the bed of radiant asters, the girl of many moods called tothem: "You're setting a good example, you little plant folk in yourbright blossom tams. From now on I'll be just as cheerful as ever I can."Smiling up at her companion, Dories exclaimed, "And all this time I'vehad some news that I haven't told you." Answering verbally her friend'squestioning look, she hurried on, "I'm going away myself for the month ofOctober. At least I suppose I am, and that's one of the things that hasmade me so dismally blue." Nann stopped in the garden path which they hadbeen slowly circling and gazed into the pretty face of her friend, hardlyknowing whether to congratulate or condole. Instead of doing either, shequeried, "But why are you so dismal about it, Dori? I've often heard yousay that you did wish you could see something of the world beyondElmwood?"

  "I know it and I still should wish it if you were going with me, but thisjourney is anything but pleasant to anticipate."

  "Do tell me about it. I'm consumed with curiosity." Nann drew her friendto a garden seat and sat with an arm holding her close. "Now start at thebeginning. _Who_ are you going with, where and why?" The question, simpleas it seemed, brought tears with a rush to the violet-blue eyes of theyounger girl, but remembering her recent resolve, she sat upramrod-straight as she replied, making her mouth into as hard a line asshe could. "The one I am going with is an old crab of a great-aunt whom Ihave never seen. I'm ever so sure she is a crab, although my angel motheralways smooths over that part of her nature when she's telling me abouther. She's rich as Croesus, if that fabled person really was rich. I'mnever very sure about those things."

  Nann laughed. "He was! You're safe in your comparison. But he got much ofhis money by taking it away from other people with the cruel taxes helevied."

  "Oh, well, of course my Great Aunt Jane isn't so terribly rich," Doriesmodified, "but Mother said she had plenty for every comfort and luxury,and what's more, Mums _did_ agree with _me_ when I said that she must bequeer. That is, Mother said that even my father, who was Great-AuntJane's own nephew, couldn't understand her ways." Then, with eyessolemn-wide, the narrator continued: "Nann Sibbett, as I've often toldyou, I don't understand in the least what became of our inheritance. IfMother knows, she won't tell, but I'm suspicious of that crabby old AuntJane. I think she has it. There now, that's what I think."

  Nann was interested and said so. "But, Dori dear, you've sidetracked. Youbegan by saying that you were going somewhere. I take it that yourGreat-Aunt Jane has invited you to go somewhere with her. Is that right?"

  "It is!" the other girl said glumly. "But, believe me, I don't lookforward to the excursion with any great pleasure." Then she hurried on."Think of it, Nann, that awful old lady has actually requested that Ispend the whole dismal month of October with her down on the beach atsome lonely isolated place called Siquaw Point."

  But if Dories expected sympathy, she was disappointed. "Oh, Dori!" wasthe excited exclamation that she heard, "I know about Siquaw Point. Anaunt of mine went there one summer, and she just raved about the rockycliffs, the sand dunes and the sea. I'd love it, I know, even in themiddle of winter, and, dear, sometimes October is a beautiful month. Youmay have a wonderful time."

  But Dories refused to see any hope of happiness ahead. "The Garden ofEden would be a dismal place to me if I had to be alone in it with myGreat-Aunt Jane."

  Nann laughed, then hearing a siren calling from the front, she sprang up,held out both hands to her friend as she exclaimed, "There's mychauffeur-dad waiting to bear me stationward, but, dear, I've thought ofone thing that will help some. To get to Siquaw Point you will have to gothrough Boston. If you'll let me know the day and the hour I'll be at thestation to speed you on your way."

  How the younger girl's face brightened. "Nann, darling," she exclaimed,"will you truly? Then that will give me a chance to see you again in justa few weeks, maybe only two, for its nearly October now."

  "Righto!" was the cheerful reply. "There's that siren again. I must go.Will you come and say good-bye to Dad?"

  But the other girl shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'drather not now. You tell him for me. I'm going home across lots. I don'twant anyone to see how near I am to crying." As she spoke two tearssplashed down her cheeks. Nann caught her in a close embrace. "Dear, dearsister-friend," she said, "I'm going to be just as lonely as you are."Then, stooping, she picked an aster and held it out, saying brightly,"This golden aster wants to go with you to tell you that we're going tobe as cheerful as we can, come what may. See you next month, Dori, sureas sure."

  Nann turned at the corner of the house to wave, and then Dories walkedslowly across lots thinking over the conversation she had had with herdearly loved friend. She paused a moment under the twin elms where, inthe long ago, they had vowed to be loyal as any two sisters could be.Then, with a deep sigh, she went on to the cosy brown house under otherspreading elms that she called home.