(#25) The Ghost of Blackwood Hall (7 page)

“I wonder if anyone will come,” said Nancy.

“The note suggested that you were to receive instructions of some kind,” Ned remarked.

“Perhaps this tree, also, is used to hold messages. Do you see any hollow in the trunk, Ned?”

The youth, noticing a deep pocket in the crotch of the walnut, ran his hand into it.

“Say, something’s crammed in here!” he said excitedly. “Yes, it’s a paper!”

“And addressed to Ruby Brown!” Nancy cried, looking at it.

The message was short.

Name the girl friend who suggested you leave that letter.

“Wow!” exclaimed Ned. “Looks as if you’ve put your foot in it now, Nancy.”

Nancy read the message again, then asked Ned to put it back. “Come on!” she urged.

Nancy led the way back to the car and they drove to the walnut tree where she had left her first note signed “Ruby Brown.” Again Nancy printed a badly spelled message, asking for instructions on how to find the Humphrey tree.

“That ought to fool him.” She chuckled as Ned placed the note in the hollow of the tree. “He’ll think poor Ruby is dumb, which is exactly what I want him to think.”

“Say, why don’t you ask the police to guard the place?”

“Because I’m afraid I’ll scare off the man altogether. I want to trap the mastermind behind this thing, not some errand boy.”

For the next two days, no mail was received by General Delivery for Ruby Brown. On the third morning, in response to Nancy’s telephone call, she learned a letter was at the post office. The laundress went to get it.

“What does our unknown friend write this time?” asked Bess, who had arrived at the Drew home just ahead of the maid. “Does he tell Ruby how to reach the Humphrey Walnut?”

“He says ‘Ask Lola White.’ ”

“Lola!” exclaimed Bess. “That poor girl! Then she is involved in that swindler’s scheme.”

“I’ve suspected it all along,” Nancy admitted. “The fellow is clever. He’s suspicious that Ruby Brown is a hoax, but so far I don’t think he connects her with me in any way. And it’s my job to keep him from finding out.”

“What will you do next?” asked Bess. “Talk to Lola?”

“Not right away,” Nancy decided. “Unwittingly she might carry the information back to the writer of this note.”

“Then what’s the next move?”

“Dad says when you’re confused—and I admit I am—you should sit back and try to arrange the facts into some kind of order,” Nancy replied. “Dad also thinks a change of scenery is a good idea when you’re in a mental jam.”

“Where shall we go?” asked Bess.

“How would you like to go with me to Blackwood Hall?” asked Nancy. “The book at the library told various stories about this old mansion, which stands within a few miles of River Heights. It’s haunted, has a secret tunnel, and is said to house the ghost of one Jonathan Humphrey who lost his life in a duel. Would you like to explore it with me?”

At first Bess insisted that wild horses could not drag her to the deserted mansion. But later, when she learned that Nancy had persuaded George to accompany her, she weakened in her decision.

“I’ll go along,” she said. “But I’m sure we’re headed for trouble.”

The trio set off at once, although a summer storm seemed to be brewing. As the girls tramped through the woods along the river, Nancy suddenly stopped short. Below her was the cove where she and Ned had rescued Lola White. The girls were not far from Blackwood Hall now. Could there be any connection between the sinister old place and the strange, hypnotic state in which they had found Lola that night?

Without voicing her thoughts to the others, Nancy plunged on. At last they came within view of the ancient building. The three-story mansion, where several generations of Humphreys had lived, looked as black as its name, forbidding even by daylight. High weeds and grass choked off any paths that might once have led to the house.

The girls circled the mansion. The wind rattled the shutters and at intervals whistled dismally around the corners of the great structure. An open gate to what had once been a flower garden slammed back and forth, as if moved by an unseen hand.

Nancy walked to the massive front door, expecting to find it securely fastened. To her amazement, as she turned the knob, the door slowly opened on groaning hinges.

“Well, what do you know!” George muttered.

Bess tried to dissuade her friends from going inside, but they paid no attention.

Turning on flashlights, the three girls entered the big hall into which the door opened. The floor was richly carpeted, but Time had played its part in making the carpet worn and gray with mildew.

Velvet draperies, faded and rotted, hung from the windows of an adjoining room. Through the archway, the girls caught a glimpse of a few massive pieces of walnut furniture.

“This looks interesting,” Nancy observed. “There’s nothing to be afraid of here.”

At that moment the front door banged shut behind them. Bess stifled a scream of terror.

“Goose! It was only the wind!” George scolded her. “If you keep this up, you’ll give us all a case of the jitters.”

“I’m sorry,” said Bess, “but it’s so spooky.”

Just then a sound of sudden, heavy rain told the girls a storm had indeed begun.

Passing through what they took to be a small parlor, the girls found themselves in another long hall, running at right angles to the entrance hall. From it opened a huge room, so dark that their flashlights illuminated only a small section of it.

“Listen!” Nancy whispered suddenly.

As they paused in the doorway, the three distinctly heard the sound of organ music. Bess seized George’s arm in a viselike grip.

“W-what’s that?” she quavered. “It must be ghost music!”

“It couldn’t be—” George began, but the words died in her throat.

At the end of the room a weird, greenish light began to glow. It revealed a small organ.

At the keyboard of the instrument sat a luminous figure.

Bess uttered a terrified shriek which echoed through the ancient house. Instantly the dim light vanished, and the music died away. The long room was in darkness.

Nancy raised her flashlight and ran toward the place where the phantom organist had appeared. Only the old, dust-covered organ remained against the wall.

“It looks as if it hadn’t been touched for years,” Nancy remarked.

“Oh, Nancy! Let’s leave this dreadful place!” Bess wailed from across the room. “The house is haunted! Somebody’s ghost does live here!”

Refusing to listen to her friends’ pleas to wait, Bess rapidly retreated. A solid slamming of the front door told them she was safely out of the house.

George, keeping her voice low, commented, “To tell the truth, I’m a little nervous, too.”

“So am I,” admitted Nancy. “This place is haunted all right—not by a specter but by a very live and perhaps dangerous person.”

“How did that ‘ghost,’ or whatever it was, get out of the room so fast? And without passing us?”

“That’s what we must find out,” Nancy replied, focusing her light on the walls again. “There may be a secret exit that the—”

She ended in midsentence as a girl’s piercing scream reached their ears. The cry came from outside the mansion.

“That was Bess!” Nancy exclaimed.

Fearful, the two girls abandoned the search and raced outdoors. The rain was coming down in torrents, making it difficult to see far ahead.

At first they could not locate Bess anywhere. Then Nancy caught a glimpse of her, huddled among the trees a few yards away. She was trembling violently.

“A man!” Bess chattered as her companions ran up to her. “I saw him!”

“Did you get a good look at him?” Nancy asked.

Bess had been too frightened to do this. But she was sure she must have surprised the person who had come from the direction of the house, for he had turned abruptly and entered the woods.

“Any chance of overtaking him?” Nancy questioned.

“Oh, no!” Bess had no desire either to lead or join an expedition through the woods. “He’s gone. He knows his way and we don’t. Let’s go home, girls. We’re wet through, and we’ll catch colds.”

“I’m going back to the mansion,” Nancy announced.

“I’ll come along,” said George. “We’ll hunt again for the hidden exit that the ghost at the organ must have taken!”

Bess reluctantly accompanied her friends. As they reached the massive front door, Nancy noticed that it was closed.

“I’m sure I left it open. The wind must have blown it shut,” she remarked.

George tried to open the door. Though she twisted the knob in both directions and pushed hard, the door refused to budge.

“Bolted from inside,” George concluded. “The ghost isn’t anxious for company.”

“I can’t get it out of my mind that Blackwood Hall is part of this whole mixed-up mystery,” Nancy remarked thoughtfully. “I wish I could get inside again!”

Nancy smiled to herself. Ned was coming to dinner. She would ask him to bring her back to Blackwood Hall that evening. Ghosts were always supposed to perform better at night!

“All right, let’s go,” she said cheerfully.

Before returning home, Nancy did a few errands, so it was after six o’clock when she reached her own house. Hannah Gruen opened the door excitedly.

“Mrs. Putney has been trying all afternoon to reach you by telephone. She wants to talk to you about something very important.”

“I believe Mrs. Putney is going to attend another seance!” Nancy exclaimed.

Nancy hurried to the telephone and called the Putney number, but there was no answer.

“Oh, dear, I hope she won’t be taken in again by the faker,” Nancy said to herself.

Without the slightest clue as to where to find Mrs. Putney, Nancy turned her thoughts toward the evening’s plan. Ned, upon arriving, fell in eagerly with her idea of going to Blackwood Hall.

“I hope the ghost appears for me too,” he said, laughing, when Nancy had told him the story. “Say, how about going there by boat?”

“Wonderful.”

After dinner Ned rented a trim little speedboat, and in a short time they reached an abandoned dock some distance from Blackwood Hall. A full moon shone down on the couple as they picked their way through the woods.

“Listen!” Nancy suddenly whispered.

From far away came the sound of chanting.

“It might be a seance!” Nancy said excitedly. “If we hurry, we may get there in time!”

Running ahead of Ned, Nancy paid scant heed to the ground underfoot, and stepped ankle-deep into a quagmire. When she tried to retreat, the mud tugged at her feet. Ned caught her by the arm.

“Stay back, Ned!” she cried out.

The warning came too late. Already Ned had followed her into the quagmire. He, too, tried to extricate himself without success.

“It’s quicksand!” Ned cried hoarsely.

Inch by inch, he and Nancy felt themselves sinking lower and lower into the mire!

CHAPTER
IX

Another Séance

REALIZING how serious their situation was, Ned urged Nancy to pull herself out of the quagmire by using him as a prop and jumping to firm ground.

“No, don’t ask me to do that,” Nancy replied. “I might save myself, but you would be pushed so far down, I couldn’t possibly get help in time to pull you out.”

“If you don’t do it, we’ll both lose our lives,” Ned argued. “Hurry, Nancy! We’re sinking fast!”

Nancy refused to listen to his pleas. Instead, she began to shout for help, hoping that some of the chanters would hear her. Ned, too, called loudly until his voice was hoarse.

No one came, and they kept sinking deeper into the quicksand. Soon Nancy was up to her chest.

“I’m afraid there’s no help for us,” Nancy said despairingly.

The youth scarcely heard her, for just then his feet struck something hard and firm.

“Nancy!” he cried. “I’ve hit bottom!”

Before she knew what was happening, he grasped her beneath the armpits and tugged hard. The muck gave a loud, sucking sound as it slowly and reluctantly released its hold. A few minutes later Nancy was safe and sound and on dry, firm ground, though she was plastered from heels to head with mud.

“You all right, Ned?”

“I’m okay,” he answered.

Nancy scrambled to her feet. Now she must get Ned out! Desperately she looked around for something she could use to rescue him.

“Hold everything, Ned. I’ll be back in a jiffy,” Nancy called. She had remembered the long painter with which they had moored the motor-boat to the dock.

Nancy raced through the darkness to the river-bank. She flicked on the lights of the small speedboat, untied the stout Manila rope which tied it to the pier, and a few minutes later was back at the edge of the quagmire where Ned was patiently waiting. She threw one end of the rope to the boy who calmly tied a noose under his arms. He directed her to toss the other end over the limb of a tree and then pull steadily.

Nancy struggled desperately to pull Ned from the quicksand. As the rope tightened, Ned began slowly but surely to emerge from the mire. Soon he was able to help with his arms and legs, and at last he succeeded in scrambling to safety beside Nancy.

For several minutes neither was able to speak, so exhausted were they from their violent efforts. As the two looked at each other, suddenly both Nancy and Ned began to laugh hysterically.

“If you could only see what you look like!” they exclaimed in the same breath.

Covered with mud and shaken by their unfortunate experience, their one desire was to get into clean clothes. The mystery, they decided, as they started back toward the dock, must wait for another time.

Later, at home once more and in dry clothes, Nancy began to wonder if Mrs. Putney had returned and whether she had been attending another seance. On a chance, she telephoned, but there was no answer. As Nancy reflected on her own adventure, she recalled the sound of chanting she and Ned had heard. Could it have come from Blackwood Hall? she wondered.

Immediately after breakfast the next morning, Nancy called at Mrs. Putney’s home. The widow, looking very pale and tired, was wearing a dressing gown.