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"Hey! Look here, fellows. A rifle shell!"]
THE MYSTERY HUNTERS AT THE HAUNTED LODGE
BY CAPWELL WYCKOFF
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY Akron, Ohio New York
Copyright, MCMXXXIV The Saalfield Publishing Company _Printed in the United States of America_
CONTENTS
Chapter Page I The Mystery Hunters 7 II The Story of the Haunted Lodge 15 III Planning an Expedition 24 IV A Strange Conversation 30 V The Start Upriver 38 VI Strange Treatment 49 VII At Bronson's Cabin 59 VIII The Upstairs Window 68 IX Inside the Haunted Lodge 78 X A Council of War 85 XI A Disturbed Night 94 XII A Surprise Visit 107 XIII In the Grip of the Storm 117 XIV New Quarters 126 XV Mysterious Knocking 137 XVI The Quarry Shed 147 XVII The Black Shadow 157 XVIII Down River 167 XIX An Interview with a Client 178 XX An Unexpected Event 185 XXI The Straw Ride 194 XXII Barry's Great Discovery 204 XXIII The Raiders 216 XXIV At Grips with the Black Shadow 229 XXV The Mystery of the Lodge 240
CHAPTER I The Mystery Hunters
The High School at Cloverfield was quiet as the hands of the clockapproached the three-o'clock hour. Then a gong pealed out and thebuilding became a very beehive of sound. The thump of many feet and thehum of voices was heard. Healthy, wholesome young boys and girls pouredout of the side doors and swarmed over the campus. Overcoats were pulledtighter as the nip of the keen Vermont air was encountered.
Two boys had come out together, and they paused to wait for two others.The boy with the clean-cut, manly face and the sparkling eyes was BarryGarrison, an outstanding boy in the Cloverfield High School. He had beenthe right halfback on the school team this year and had helped to leadit to a glorious record of no defeats and first place on the Conferencelist. He was an all-around athlete and stood well in his senior-yearstudies. Although Barry Garrison would have turned the idea aside with agood-natured laugh, he was the most popular boy in the high school.
His lifelong chum was Kent Marple. Kent's father owned the local hotel,and the boy had enjoyed many advantages in life. He and Barry had beenfriends ever since they had been small boys. Young Marple was broaderthan Barry, with a heavy shock of black hair and a chin that was atrifle determined. He had played fullback on the football team duringthe past season.
These two boys did not seem to be in any hurry. Barry leaned against amaple tree and whistled softly, while Kent glanced from one side door ofthe school to the other.
"The twins must have been kept in," Barry observed.
"Maybe they are clapping erasers for the teacher," Kent grinned.
"If they are, they'll clap 'em clean," Barry laughed. "The Ford twinsalways finish what they start. Here they come now."
Two boys came springing down the steps of the school building and lookedaround for Barry and Kent. When they had seen their particular friends,one of them waved, and then both boys dashed across the hard groundtoward the boys under the trees. At first glance there was little todistinguish between Mac and Tim Ford. They were both the same height andbuild, stocky young fellows who had made splendid ends on the team. Butat closer range some differences were apparent. Mac was sandy-haired,and Tim was gifted with a light brown mass of hair that sometimesmanaged to stay combed. Both boys had attractive, lively countenancesand were well liked by everyone in the small town. They were often theleaders in the fun and could always be counted on to join in any kind ofa lark. With Kent and Barry, they made up a quartet that was widelyknown.
Mac Ford beat his brother to the maple tree by a yard. "Thought we neverwould get out," he panted. "Took Tim's advice in a problem, and it waswrong. Had to do it over."
"The trouble is that you _didn't_ take my advice," Tim denied. "I triedto show you how to work it, but----"
"Never mind," Barry interposed, thrusting his hands deep into hissweater pockets. "Let's move along. It's cold today."
"It ought to be," Kent observed. "Christmas is almost here."
Two high-school boys and a girl passed them and nodded and smiled."There they go," the girl cried. "The mystery hunters!"
"Four Sherlocks, the locker-room detectives!" chimed in one of the boys.When this trio had passed on, the four chums looked at one another.
"They seem to keep calling us the mystery hunters," Barry smiled.
"Just because we found out who was stealing things out of the lockers,"grunted Tim. "That wasn't such a big job."
"Anybody could have done it, if he had taken the trouble to," Kent said.
"The biggest surprise about the whole thing was the fact that a boy likeCarter Wolf was doing it," Mac put in.
Proceeding slowly along the sidewalk toward home, the four boys oncemore discussed the recent events which had resulted in earning the nameof "mystery hunters." For a long time someone had been stealing athleticsupplies and even rings and watches from the gymnasium locker room.Persistent efforts had been made to trap the thief, but without success.Finally the four boys had entered the case, chiefly because a birthdayring of Mac's had been among the things taken. But for a long time theyhad not made any progress. The prowler seemed to know exactly what theywere about. They even tried sleeping in the locker room, but even thisproduced no results. Finally they decided on strategy and rigged up acamera. This was placed in another room, at a place in the wall where asingle brick had been knocked out. The locker doors were hooked up insuch a way that when one of them was opened, the camera would operate.
They got immediate results with this. And on the day they took thecamera down, a certain wealthy boy named Carter Wolf left school. Thenegative, when developed, showed that Carter Wolf was the guilty one.His startled face was turned toward the camera, whose click he hadheard, and one hand was plainly seen opening a locker door. At first hedenied the charges, but finally he had made good the losses in one wayor another. Mac was lucky enough to get his ring back, but others foundthat their property had been sold to pay gambling debts that Wolf hadcontracted. Only the influence and pleading of his father had saved theboy from the punishment he richly deserved. For the time being he haddisappeared from the community, but not until he had left a threatbehind him.
"I'll even scores with that Barry Garrison bunch," he had promised.
With the identification
of the mysterious sneak thief a wave of reliefhad swept over Cloverfield High School. The teachers and students weregrateful to the four boys whose persistence had finally caught theprowler. The good-natured title of "mystery hunters" had been giventhem, and the boys knew that under it lay a genuine admiration for thepiece of work that they had done.
"When you figure it all out," Kent declared, as they stopped a momentbefore the brownstone house in which Barry lived, "there wasn't much toit. Maybe there would be a different story if we ever ran up against areal mystery."
"Mysteries are few and far between," Tim said. "Let's talk aboutsomething more vital. We'll have about ten days of vacation at Christmastime. What'll we do with it?"
"Eat popcorn and candy off the Christmas tree," Mac grinned.
"Our tree won't have enough on to keep us eating very long," Timanswered. "Shall we do a little winter camping?"
"Either that or hunt some," Barry agreed. "Let's give it some thought inthe next few days."
The other boys went on down the street, while Barry turned in at thedoor of the brownstone house. Kent lived two doors beyond, and the twinslived around the corner in a big frame house. The Fords were not amongthe wealthiest people in the town, although Mr. Ford did have a fairlygood business in dry goods. But they were a fine family, and Kent andBarry had been fond of the two lively boys since grammar-school days.
As Barry entered the hall, his sister Pearl was going up the stairs. Inthe library to the right of him he could see his father, seated under alamp, reading a magazine. The rattling of a pan on the stove told himwhere his mother was.
Pearl was in her first year of high school and had preceded him home byseveral minutes. She paused a moment on the upper landing to addresshim.
"Here is the chief of the mystery hunters!" she called cheerfully. "Doyou know that everybody is calling you that?"
"Yes, I know it," he nodded. "I wish they would forget it."
Mr. Garrison looked up from his magazine. "I need some real mysteryhunters right now," he said. "If you want to take on a real puzzler,come ahead."
Barry was at once interested. His father was a lawyer and frequentlyhandled important cases. The boy placed his books on a hall table andwalked into the library.
"What's it all about, Dad? What mystery are you talking about?"
Mr. Garrison took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. "I was thinkingabout that haunted hunting lodge up on Lake Arrowtip," he said. "But Iwas only joking when I told you to come ahead. It is a job that willtest the brains of an expert detective."