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"And just to make a national park," added Dot. "Doesn't seem altogether right."
"Oh, we're all glad to have Jockey Hollow Park here in Pentville," Betty was quick to say. "It will put us on the map," and she laughed prettily.
"And of course, if they decide to take in this cottage, which isn't quite sure, Granny will get something from the state for that. But she would get a lot more money, and so would Cousin Viney and d.i.c.k and I, if we could find the papers that prove we are the rightful heirs to the old Hall. As it is, it has reverted to the state. But I believe there is something about holding the estimated value of the place in court for a certain number of years to give us a chance to prove owners.h.i.+p. Only I'm afraid we never can."
"No," chimed in Granny entering the room just then with fresh tea, "I'm afraid we never can. There was a time when I had hope, and I did all I could to hold this man Callahan-who isn't a bad sort-from proceeding with the demolis.h.i.+ng of the Hall. But now I have about given up. Only I don't dare tell Cousin Viney that," she added with a little laugh. "She is a die-hard and last-ditcher."
The girls enjoyed their visit, though they were a little anxious about the return of Sim and Arden. After a while they decided they would walk around and wait rather than stay indoors, for the air outside was bracing.
"Are you going back to look for those books, Betty?" asked Terry as she and Dot took their leave.
"Not alone!" was the answer, given with a little shrug of her shoulders.
Then, pleasantly thanking her, they left.
Dot and Terry walked on, back toward the Hall. The afternoon was waning.
It would soon be dusk. They hoped Arden and Sim would not be too late.
"What do you think of it all, Dot?" Terry asked.
"You mean about the queer old lady? Potty, if you ask me."
"Oh, yes, a bit eccentric. But I mean about things that have happened here in Jockey Hollow."
Dot did not answer for several seconds. Then she said:
"Terry, I believe there is something mysterious here, but it isn't ghosts, though that's what you can call them."
Terry wondered what Dot meant.
CHAPTER XV Jim Doesn't Know
Sim drove along as fast as she dared, with Arden sitting beside her, both girls wondering, conjecturing, and trying in vain to guess what the answer to the riddle of Jockey Hollow might be.
Now and then one of the girls, to make sure all was well, would turn to the man in the rumble seat holding his wounded friend in a slanting position against his own dust-begrimed body; and Jim was begrimed, also.
"Does he seem any better?" Arden asked once.
"No, miss. Not yet."
"He is still alive, isn't he?" asked Sim, wondering what they should do if the answer were in the negative.
"Oh, yes, miss, he's alive. I can feel his heart beating."
"That's good. Is it much farther?"
"Not much. Take the next left turn, please."
Sim did this. Down a country road, lined on each side with bare trees, they saw a small house.
"There's the place, miss! That's where Jim lives," eagerly called the helping man, who had said his name was Nate Waldon. "I'll be glad when we get him home. I hope the doctor will come soon."
"So do I," murmured Arden.
"We certainly do manage to get into the most curious mix-ups," suggested Sim as she ran the car around the bend and up as close as she could get to the house, which had a drive on one side. There was a barn in the rear, but no evidence that it was used as a garage.
It was a small house; not unlike, Arden reflected, a picture of the huts used by the soldiers of Was.h.i.+ngton's army when it was encamped in Jockey Hollow so many years ago.
At the sound of the stopping car, evidently something unusual in front of that little house, a young woman, followed by a small girl about five years old, quickly opened the door and looked out. Then, as she evidently caught sight of her husband held in the arms of Nate, she ran out, crying:
"Oh, Jim! What has happened! Are you hurt? Oh, Jim!"
Sim and Arden quickly alighted and helped Nate lift the still unconscious Jim out of the rumble seat. It wasn't easy, for the limp form was heavy.
"He's coming to, I think," said Arden in a low voice to Sim. "I saw his eyelids flutter."
"Oh, Jim! Jim!" sobbed his wife. The little girl was also sobbing now.
Sim, realizing that Arden knew more about first aid than she did, took charge of the child.
"He isn't hurt bad, Mrs. Danton, I'm sure he isn't," said Nate with the ready sympathy of one worker for another's mate. "He just had a sort of a fall and he got bruised a bit and cut up and a hit on the head. But he'll come around. Mr. Callahan had one of the men telephone for a doctor. Is he here yet?"
"Not yet. Oh, Jim! Poor Jim!" wailed the excited woman.
"Now, he's all right, didn't I tell you that, Mrs. Danton? Here, pull yourself together. You've got to help this young lady and me carry him in and put him to bed and then get ready for the doctor. Now don't be fainting on us." Nate took charge promptly.
"No! No. I won't faint. But what happened?" Mrs. Danton asked.
"He just fell down an old ash-chute," Arden said as she and Nate, with the help of the man's wife, carried him into the little cottage where Sim, comforting the child, had already preceded them.
Just how they managed, Sim and Arden never had any clear recollection afterward. But they succeeded in getting poor Jim upon a bed in a room downstairs opening out of a small but very neat little kitchen. Then, when his wife was undressing him, with the help of Nate, while Sim, in the neat kitchen, was telling the little girl a fairy story, Dr. Ramsdell arrived.
"What's going on here?" he asked in a bluff hearty voice. He did not know, and had probably not seen before, any of those whom he addressed.
But he seemed, as Arden said afterward, "like one of the family."
"Oh, doctor, it's my husband!" faltered Mrs. Danton, again on the verge of tears.
"Tut! Tut! None of that!" warned Dr. Ramsdell. "We'll soon be having your husband on his feet again. A little accident, I was told," he remarked, and his eyes swept in turn Arden and Nate.
"He had a fall-at the-the ghost house," Nate answered.
"Ghost house! What joke is that?" chuckled the physician, quickly taking off his coat and gloves and picking up the black bag he had set down on a chair.
Out in the kitchen Sim was intoning to the little girl:
"And when the Prince came riding by in his automobile--"