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"I understand Jockey Hollow, with its Revolutionary a.s.sociations, is to be made a state or national park," Harry went on, smiling kindly at Arden. "The bird sanctuary will only be incidental to its historic value.
But I am glad to do my little part there. So, having some leisure time, and the Christmas season being rather a hectic time down our way, and being fond of the woods in winter and solitude-in a way-I decided to use my Christmas vacation by coming to Jockey Hollow and getting some first-hand information."
"What could be nicer for us?" Sim complimented.
"Are you going to stay until after Christmas?" Arden inquired.
"I hope to. I understand Jockey Hollow is rather a big place, and it will take me several days to survey it, locate proper places for feeding stations, and arrange for a water supply for the birds. When I told Dr.
Thandu I would come here, I suddenly happened to remember that you Cedar Ridge girls lived out this way, and so I'm afraid I kept the operator rather busy this afternoon giving her your number, Sim."
"Oh, that, too, would have been kind of you. Central isn't ever very busy here. I'm sure she rather enjoyed it. The girls listen in, you know."
"She hasn't anything on me!" he laughed. "Well, now you know why I'm here." They had all settled down comfortably, and it seemed, with Harry there, their party was complete.
"But I thought you said," remarked Dot, "that you wanted solitude for Christmas," her eyes were mischievous.
"Oh, well, there is solitude-and _solitude_!" he countered, his gaze sweeping them all in turn, but lingering upon Arden. "But tell me about the ghosts. Are they just too-too divine?"
They told him at dinner, which was a success in every way, Moselle and her daughter doing themselves proud in the viands and the serving thereof. Moselle simply loved company, especially young men company.
"Now, what do you think of it all?" Arden asked when the various phases of the happenings at the Hall had been recounted.
Harry Pangborn was silent for a moment as he crushed the ashes of his cigarette on the plate.
The girls waited, not a little anxiously, for his opinion. It was good to have a man around-especially such a delightful young man as Harry Pangborn-one whom they knew and could trust.
"Well?" asked Sim, at length.
"Well," he blew out a cloud of smoke, "it sounds to me like either one of two things," came the answer, slowly given. "It's either a trick of some mischievous person or persons, as you have hinted, perhaps engineered by a rival contractor. Or-" again a pause-"there may be something in it."
"Do you really mean-ghosts?" gasped Terry.
"Well, perhaps what some persons call ghosts," the young man answered.
"Let us say natural manifestations that take on a weird meaning or significance because they are not understood. I now have a double duty here. I'm going to lay out the Jockey Hollow bird sanctuary and--"
He lighted a fresh cigarette.
"If you'll leave this to me," he continued as he inhaled the aromatic smoke, "I'll do some real investigating, if you want me to."
"It really ought to be done," said Arden gladly. "We want to help Granny Howe if we can, to put her in a position where she can claim this property; though it seems hopeless after all these years. And we also want to help this Jim Danton. We'll be so grateful for your help, Harry, and we are so relieved to have you here-just now."
"Such as it is, you shall have it!" promised Mr. Pangborn.
CHAPTER XVIII The Figure in Red
Arden Blake fairly jumped into her bedside slippers, drew on a dressing gown, and in an instant was at the window.
"What's the matter?" sleepily inquired Terry, who was in the other twin bed. "Has anything happened?"
"It's snowing again," Arden answered. "I awoke a little while ago and I heard tiny tappings against the window. I wondered what it was and I waited a decent time, so I shouldn't awaken you, to find out."
"Nothing to do with the mystery, has it?" yawned Terry.
"No, silly! It's just snowing. It's going to be a glorious storm, much better than the other little fairy we had, I believe, and oh, don't you just love snow for Christmas?"
"That's so, Christmas is coming," Terry admitted as she sat up in her bed and watched Arden, still at the window. "What time is it?"
"Nearly eight. Too sleepy still to see the faithful clock right before you," teased Arden.
"Sim and Dot up yet?"
"I haven't heard them moving." Arden inclined an ear toward the room across the hall where their hostess and the other girl slept.
"Well, then, come on back to bed," urged Terry. "No use getting up until Sim does. And we stayed up so late last night, talking to Harry Pangborn, that I'm sleepy yet."
"I'm not, and I'm going to dress. I have something to do," declared Arden with a purposeful look on her face.
"What? Going to see Harry? I think he's awfully nice."
"He is, but I'm not going to see him. I'm going to the woods to get some holly branches. I noticed a lovely lot of bushes some distance back of the old Hall when I was wandering around by the cellar door that time Betty Howe popped up out of it."
"With horror on her face, as they say in books," drawled Terry.
"Yes, she was terrified all right," admitted Arden. "Who wouldn't be, coming upon what looked like a dead man? And that's another thing we must do."
"My, aren't we the busy girls!" laughed Terry. "What else, for goodness'
sakes? I might as well get up and dress, I suppose. There'll be no sleep for me now with you barging around."
"Another thing we must do," said Arden as she began to dress, "is to see to it that Jim Danton's poor little family gets some relief from Mr.
Callahan or somebody. He was hurt while working for the contractor, and the contractor should pay. That's the law."
"It wasn't exactly his fault, though," Terry argued. "Mr. Callahan might claim, as they say they do in some insurance policies, that it was an act of G.o.d, an unforeseen calamity, and so get out of it-I mean he might say it was the ghost of Jockey Hollow."
"I hardly believe he would do that," remarked Arden, brus.h.i.+ng her hair vigorously. "But it surely is puzzling. Well, we'll see what Harry Pangborn can figure out of it, though I think, since we sort of promised, in a way we should try and do something for the Danton family. There is no social service agency around here."
"Yes, somebody must help them, and they seem nice folks, too. But about this holly, what are you going to do with it specially?"
"Decorate this place for Christmas, of course. Coming with me?"
"I suppose so. Dot and Sim will, I imagine."
"Yes, we'll make a little party of it. Oh, I do love to walk in the snow, and it's coming down beautifully!" raved Arden. "Do come and look, Terry!"
"Wait until I get this shoe on. Though if we're going to tramp in the snow I suppose I'd better wear heavier ones."
"You won't need them with arctics. But isn't it a glorious storm!"