The Corner House Girls Among the Gypsies Part 24

"Oh, no, Mrs. Mac! It's not Neale," half sobbed Agnes. "I know who it is. It's that awful junkman!"

"A junkman?" repeated Mrs. McCall. "At this time o' night? We've naethin' tae sellit him. The impudence!"

She rose, quite determined to drive the importunate junkman away.

CHAPTER XIX--THE HOUSE IS HAUNTED

"Why do ye fash yoursel' so?" demanded Mrs. McCall in growing wonder and exasperation. "Let me see the foolish man."

She approached the window and raised the shade sharply. Then she hoisted the sash itself. But Costello, the junkman, was gone.

"There is naebody here," she complained, looking out on the side porch.

"But he _was_ there! You saw him," faintly declared Agnes.

"He was nae ghost, if that's what you mean," said the housekeeper dryly. "But what and who is he? A junkman? How do you come to know junkmen, la.s.sie?"

"I only know that junkman," explained Agnes.

"Aye?" The housekeeper's eyes as well as her voice was sharp. "And when did you make his acquaintance? Costello, d'you say?"

"So he said his name was. He--he is one of the Gypsies, I do believe!"

"Gypsies! The idea! Is the house surrounded by Gypsies?"

"I don't know, Mrs. McCall," said Agnes faintly. "I only know they are giving us a lot of trouble."

"Who are?"

"The Gypsies."

"Hear the la.s.s!" exclaimed the troubled housekeeper. "Who ever heard the like? Why should Gypsies give us any trouble? Is it that bit bracelet the bairns play wi'? Then throw it out and let the Gypsies have it."

"But that would not be right, would it, Mrs. McCall?" demanded the troubled girl. "If--if the bracelet belongs to them--"

"Hech! To this junkman?"

"He claims it," confessed Agnes.

"Tut, tut! What is going on here that I do not know about?" demanded the Scotch woman with deeper interest.

She closed the window, drew the shade again, and returned to her seat.

She stared at Agnes rather sternly over her gla.s.ses.

"Come now, my la.s.s," said the housekeeper, "what has been going on so slyly here? I never heard of any Costello, junkman or not. Who is he?

What does he want, peering in at a body's windows at night?"

Agnes told the whole story then--and managed to tell it clearly enough for the practical woman to gain a very good idea of the whole matter.

"Of course," was her comment, grimly said, "you and that Neale could not let well enough alone. You never can. If you had not advertised the bit bracelet, this junkman would not have troubled you."

"But we thought it ought to be advertised," murmured Agnes in defense.

"Aye, aye! Ye thought mooch I've nae doot. And to little good purpose.

Well, 'tis a matter for Mr. Howbridge now, sure enough. And what he'll say--"

"But I hope that Costello does not come to the house again," ventured the girl, in some lingering alarm.

"You or Neale go to Mr. Howbridge's clerk in the morning and tell him.

He should tell the police of this crazy man. A Gypsy, too, you say?"

"I think he must be. The bracelet seems to be a bone of contention between two branches of the Gypsy tribe. If it belonged to that old Queen Alma--"

"Fiddle-faddle!" exclaimed the housekeeper. "Who ever heard of a queen among those dirty Gypsies? 'Tis foolishness."

The fact that Costello, the junkman, was lingering about the old Corner House was not to be denied. They saw him again before bedtime.

Uncle Rufus had gone to bed and Linda was so easily frightened that Mrs. McCall did not want to tell her.

So the housekeeper grabbed a broom and started out on the side porch with the avowed intention of "breaking the besom over the chiel's head!" But the lurker refused to be caught and darted away into the shadows. And all without making a sound, or revealing in any way what his intention might be.

Mrs. McCall and the trembling Agnes went all about the house, locking each lower window, and of course all the doors. Tom Jonah, the old Newfoundland dog, slept out of doors these warm nights, and sometimes wandered away from the premises.

"We ought to have Buster, Sammy Pinkney's bulldog, over here. Then that horrid man would not dare come into the yard," Agnes said.

"You might as well turn that old billy-goat loose," sniffed Mrs.

McCall. "He'd do little more harm than that bull pup--and nae more good, either."

They went to bed--earlier than usual, perhaps. And that may be the reason why Agnes could not sleep. She considered the possibility of Costello's climbing up the porch posts to the roof, and so reaching the second story windows.

"If he is going to haunt the house like this," Agnes declared to the housekeeper in the morning, "let us make Neale come here and stay at night."

"That lad?" returned the housekeeper, who had no very exalted opinion of boys in any case--no more than had Ruth. "Haven't we all troubles enough, I want to know? This is a case for the police. You go tell Mr.

Howbridge's clerk about the Gypsy, that is what you do."

But Agnes would not do even that without taking Neale into her confidence. Neale at once was up in arms when he heard of the lurking junkman. He declared he would come over and hide in the closet on the Kenways' back porch and try to catch the man if he appeared again at night.

"He is a very strong man, Neale," objected Agnes. "And he might have a knife, too. You know, those Gypsies are awfully fierce-tempered."

"I don't know that he is," objected Neale. "He looked to me like just plain crazy."

"Well, you come down to the office with me," commanded Agnes. "I don't even want to meet that excitable Costello man on the street when I am alone."

"I suppose you are scared, Aggie. But I don't think he would really hurt you. Come on!"

So they went down to Mr. Howbridge's office again and interviewed the clerk, telling him first of all of the appearance of the junkman the night before.