The Motor Girls at Camp Surprise: or, The Cave in the Mountains

Cora nodded. “He heard it, and thought at first it was thunder.”

“Say, what’s this all about?” demanded Jack. “Are you hiding part of the secret from us, Sis?”

“Well, in a way – yes.”

“That isn’t fair. If there’s a secret here we ought to share it. And if you girls are going to keep things to yourselves we fellows will pack up and leave, and – ”

“Don’t dare desert us!” cried Belle. “I won’t stay here a minute after the boys go; will you, Cora?”

“Well, I like to have them here, of course,” answered Jack’s sister. “But if we talk that way about them they’ll get an exaggerated idea of their importance, and there’ll be no way of enforcing discipline. So if they want to go let them, and we’ll solve this mystery ourselves.”

“I think we’re making a mountain out of a molehill,” declared Walter. “I don’t see any great mystery here. A few chairs and a table are upset. It’s the most natural thing in the world.”

“Natural? How do you make that out?” asked Bess.

“Why, Mrs. Floyd has been sweeping and dusting in here, and she has moved the chairs about. They always do it at our house. And say! some days it’s as much as your life is worth to try to navigate through the misplaced furniture. You need a harbor pilot and a searchlight, to say nothing of a chart and an automobile road map. That’s all that’s happened here. Mrs. Floyd has been doing a little house-cleaning.”

“So that’s your explanation of it; is it?” asked Cora. “Then how do you account for the fact that Mrs. Floyd and her husband have been away all day?”

She pointed toward the road and the others saw the two caretakers in Mr. Floyd’s light wagon approaching the bungalow. They were returning from their day’s shopping trip, as was evident by the number of bundles in the vehicle.

“I think you’ll find that Mrs. Floyd hasn’t done any house-cleaning to-day,” said Cora. “You can’t account for the surprise that way.”

Cora was right, in so far as Mrs. Floyd was concerned. The chaperon and her husband had been away all day.

“What is it? What has happened? Is anything the matter?” asked Mrs. Floyd, as she saw the young people on the porch of the bungalow, looking in at the open door. “Is any one hurt?”

“No, it’s just the surprise,” said Cora. “Is that what has happened before, Mrs. Floyd?”

The caretaker looked inside, and caught her breath sharply.

“Yes – yes,” she answered slowly. “This has happened before, but never as bad as this. I mean it never before was quite so upset. I – I can’t account for it.”

“It’s them pesky tramps!” said Mr. Floyd. “I’ll notify the constable again; that’s what I’ll do!”

“Do you think it was tramps?” asked Jack.

“Who else could it be?” the caretaker demanded, and neither Jack nor the others could answer, though Walter asked:

“Well, if it were tramps, wouldn’t they steal something if they had the chance they’ve had to-day? Let’s take a look and see if anything is missing.”

Then they went in, a bit gingerly at first, for there is a queer, uncanny sort of feeling in coming back to find the furniture upset in a strange fashion. They all felt it, even joking Jack.

But, aside from the misplaced tables, chairs and couch, nothing wrong was found. Nothing was missing, as far as could be ascertained, and no food had been taken from the pantry, though more than once, Mrs. Floyd said, on former occasions when the “surprise” had been manifested, the larder showed signs of an unknown visitor.

“Now before we set things to rights,” suggested Jack, “suppose we see if there are any clews. Let’s go at this thing right. Look at each piece of furniture and see if it has – ”

“Any finger marks on? Is that what you mean, Jack?” asked Paul.

“No, I’m not drawing it quite as fine as that. I mean look around on the floor for bits of mud, for any signs of foot prints – anything, in fact, that would give us a line on who did this.”

“It seems to have been done deliberately, anyhow,” observed Walter. “The chairs and other things weren’t misplaced in a hurry. They took their time. Why any one but a child would want to pile that chair on the table is remarkable.”

“That very thing may indicate that it was just some skylarking boys,” commented Jack.

Mr. Floyd shook his head.

“There aren’t any boys around here,” he said. “Of course lads might come out from the village, and break in to do this mischief, but it isn’t likely. This is private land, and on several previous occasions trespassers have been arrested, so the boys don’t generally come here. Besides, they wouldn’t have had a key to come in with.”

“Did they use a key to enter?” asked Paul.

“The door was locked when we got back,” replied Cora, as if that settled it.

“And the window fastenings are still on,” reported Jack, who made a quick inspection.

“Here’s a bit of mud near this one chair, as if it had dropped from some one’s shoe,” Walter said. “So the surprisers must have come in from outside.”

“Where else would they come from?” Jack demanded. “Did you think they were concealed in the bungalow?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Walter answered slowly. “It’s a queer mystery.”

“I hope it won’t cause you folks to leave,” said Mrs. Floyd a bit anxiously. “We’d like you to stay on.”

“And we will!” cried Cora. “We knew that a surprise awaited us when we came here, and we haven’t been disappointed. And, now that it has come, we’re not going to turn cowards and run away. We’ll get to the bottom of this mystery.”

“That’s right!” cried Jack. “Who’s afraid? You aren’t; are you, Hazel?”

“Not – not if – ”

“Not if I stay! There, I knew it!” and Jack puffed out his chest. “See what it is to have confidence in a man. Now if the rest of you will act as I do, we’ll soon – ”

“Oh, I didn’t say that at all!” cried the blushing Hazel. “I meant I would stay if the rest did.”

“Squelched!” murmured Jack in dejected tones. “Never mind, I’ll lay this ghost yet. Now let’s get things to rights, and then we’ll stay to supper with you girls.”

“Hadn’t you better wait until you’re invited?” asked Cora.

“Oh, do let them stay!” begged Belle. “I – I’m a bit nervous over this.”

“Another manly protector needed,” murmured Paul.

“Let us stay and we’ll help find the ghost,” suggested Walter, and the girls were glad enough to agree, for, truth to tell, they were a bit upset, and even Cora looked over her shoulder nervously as she ascended the stairs.

“Well, they didn’t come up and disturb your bedrooms this time,” said Mrs. Floyd, as she went to the upper story with the girls.

“Do you mean to say they actually have upset the things in the bedrooms?” asked Belle.

“Sometimes,” replied the caretaker. “Though that hasn’t happened of late.”

“Oh, dear!” sighed the slim girl. “I did hope we would be safe from them up here.”

“Oh, they never come – that is, things never happen – when any one is in the house,” Mrs. Floyd hastened to add. “It’s always when the place is left to itself.”

“Then the – er – well, call it ghost, for want of a better name,” said Jack – “then the ghost must keep watch to know when we go out.”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Mrs. Floyd. “It’s very annoying, and I do hope you will find out what does it and stop it.”

“We will,” Jack declared. “I’m sure, after all, we’ll find out that it is due to perfectly natural causes.”

“That’s what I believe,” said Walter. “I wonder if it could be an earthquake?”

“Earthquake?” echoed the others.

“Yes,” Walter went on. “You know that queer noise which Cora, Belle and I seem to have heard to the exclusion of you others? Well, that was a sort of rumbling of the earth. It might have been a slight shock, a reaction from a distant quake. Such things have been known to happen. And if there was one there might well be another. If the bungalow shook hard enough the chairs might have been upset as we found them.”

Jack shook his head.

“Your theory won’t hold water,” he said. “If there was a hard enough shock to knock over chairs and tables, the dishes in the closets would have been broken.”

“I think so, too,” declared Paul. “The earthquake won’t account for it, Walter.”

“Perhaps not. But I can’t think what else it could be.”

“A human agency, you may be sure of that,” declared Cora. “I don’t believe in the supernatural. This was done by human hands and, sooner or later, we’ll discover by whom. Humans are fallible and will make a mistake. We must watch for that mistake.”

They righted the furniture and talking of the matter seemed to make it lose some of its mysteriousness. The boys stayed to supper and until late in the evening. Jack offered to remain all night, and sleep on the couch downstairs, but Cora would not hear of it.

“We’ll be all right,” she declared. “We can call you on the telephone if we want you. Besides, Mr. Floyd is going to leave open the door leading to his quarters, and he can hear if we call. We’ll be all right.”

“Well, ring us up if you find the chairs doing a fox trot or hesitation waltz in the middle of the night,” suggested Walter.

The girls went upstairs together, casting quick, nervous glances over their shoulders as they ascended. They locked their hall doors as soon as they were inside. But as the four chambers communicated, it was as if they were in one large apartment.

“Oh dear!” exclaimed Cora, as she was taking down her hair. “I’ve forgotten it.”

“What?” asked Bess, who was taking off her shoes.

“My flashlight,” Cora answered. “I left it on the table in the living room. I meant to bring it up, for I like to see what time it is if I awaken in the night.”

“I’ll go down with you if you want to get it,” offered Hazel.

“No, thank you. I’ll do without it. I dare say I shan’t need it.”

“Let’s burn a light all night,” proposed Belle.

And no one called her silly. So the lamp was left aglow, turned down a little.

Contrary, at least to some expectations, the night passed peacefully. There was no disturbance, and the girls awoke refreshed and with only a little feeling of uneasiness as to what might happen in the future.

But when Cora went downstairs, and began looking among the things on the table in the living room, another manifestation of the queer happenings was in evidence.

“Where’s my light?” she demanded. “I left my flashlight here last night, and now it’s gone. Did any one take it?”

No one had, the boys and girls denying all knowledge. Nor had Mr. or Mrs. Floyd removed it, and Cora was positive she had left it on the table. She recalled her remarks about it the night previous.

“Well, it’s gone,” she said. “Another one of the mysteries.”

“You seem to be singled out,” observed Walter. “First it’s your auto, and now your light.”

“Do you think the two cases have any connection?” asked Cora.

CHAPTER XX – MORE HAPPENINGS

Walter considered the matter rather judicially before answering. Then he gave as his decision:

“No, I can’t say that I do. It is, perhaps, only a coincidence that your automobile and your flashlight should have been taken. I dare say that had it been a light belonging to any one else it would have disappeared just the same.”

“You mean that they – the mysterious They – would have taken the light, no matter to whom it belonged?” asked Jack.

“Exactly! It was a case of wanting a light and taking it.”

“But how did they get in to take it?” asked Paul. “There’s no sign of anything having been broken; is there – no doors or windows?”

“We didn’t look,” Cora said.

“Then that’s what we’d better do,” Jack suggested.

But an examination did not show that any means had been used to force a passage from without. The windows were provided with screens which fastened from within in such a way that force would have to be exerted to slip them. And this had not been done. Nor had the door been tampered with.

“There’s only one way to account for it,” said Walter, “and that is on the theory that the Surprisers, Ghosts, They – whatever you choose to call them – used skeleton keys. And they must be professional burglars, or they would have made noise enough to have aroused you girls. You didn’t hear anything; did you?”

Not one had heard a sound.

“But if they were professional thieves wouldn’t they have taken something else besides a flashlight?” asked Jack. “There’s plenty of other things they might have picked up.”

This was true enough, for the girls had left many of their more or less valuable belongings downstairs. But none of them had been taken.

“Perhaps they just needed Cora’s light to help them in some of their other surprise visits,” suggested Bess. “Isn’t it most delightfully mystifying?”

“I don’t know that I find it especially so,” retorted Belle, with a quick glance over her shoulder. “It’s getting on my nerves.”

“Well, you can quit and go away when you want to,” suggested her sister.

“Never!” cried Cora. “We’re not going to desert in the face of danger; are we, Belle?”

The slim twin hesitated a moment, and then answered, but not very decidedly:

“No.”

“I knew you wouldn’t,” said Jack’s sister. “We Motor Girls aren’t cowards.”

“We give you credit for that,” declared Walter.

In spite of the brave front of Cora and her chums, the happenings at Camp Surprise were getting on their nerves. The boys, true to their promise, began to plan to do their own cooking; but in view of the fact that the oftener they were in the girls’ bungalow the better Cora and her chums liked it, it was decided to have the boys take all their meals with the girls. Jack, Walter and Paul would merely sleep in the smaller building, where they were in close call by means of the telephone.

For the next two days nothing happened. No more articles were missed, and the furniture remained where it was put. Then came two or three days when our friends were off on long picnics, remaining all day, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Floyd in charge. Nor on these occasions did anything happen. The bungalow was as peaceful when they returned as when they left.

“I guess it’s all over,” said Cora, when nearly a week had passed, and there had been no more manifestations. “It was a flashlight they were looking for all the while, and, now that they have it, they are satisfied.”

“It might be,” admitted Belle. “I hope it is.”

There were happy days in the mountains. Sometimes the young folks would wander far afield or through the woods, taking their lunches and staying all day. Again they would go berrying or fishing. And they did not get lost again, for the boys became familiar with the lay of the land. Cora, too, as well as Belle and Bess, got her bearings, and knew how to find the back paths.

Fishing formed a pastime that all enjoyed, for the streams and ponds in Mountain View were private property, and had not been depleted of their finny inhabitants. So fish formed many a dainty dish for the table.

It was one day when Mr. Floyd had gone in to town, and Mrs. Floyd had departed to one of the more distant bungalows to get it in readiness for occupancy, that Cora and her friends again went on a little trip to the small lake which once before they had visited.

“And make sure everything is well locked,” Belle advised, as they started away, boys and girls together.

Windows and doors were seen to, though no one had more than a faint suspicion that any unbidden visitors would call. They got back rather early in the afternoon, for a thunder shower was threatening, and as Jack opened the door and looked in the living room, he called out:

“All serene. They haven’t been here this time.”

“That’s good,” said Belle. “I guess we’ve broken the hoodoo.”

But when Cora and Hazel went upstairs there came simultaneous cries of surprise from them.

“Oh, Cora!” cried Hazel. “Look at my room!”

“And look at mine!” Cora added.

“What’s the matter?” asked Jack from below.

“Everything!” answered his sister. “They’ve been up here, Jack!”

“Who?”

“The Surprise, of course. Our rooms are all upset.”

“Is anything taken?” asked Jack, who, with the others, came up to look at the strange evidences left by the mysterious visitors.

“We can’t tell yet,” said Cora. “Oh dear! what does it all mean?”

No one answered for a moment, but Belle and Bess looked half-fearfully about, as though even then they might be standing in the presence of some unseen creature.

CHAPTER XXI – A DANCING LIGHT

“This is getting to be the limit of patience!” exclaimed Jack a bit wrathfully, as he looked at the disordered rooms. “Why can’t we do something?”

“We could, if we knew what to do,” said Walter. “But you can’t fight nothing with something.”

“It is very intangible,” said Cora. “Oh, all my pretty things scattered about!”

“Look and see if anything is taken,” suggested Paul. “If we can find out what is missing – I mean the character of the things – we can get a better line on who might have taken them. So far, the flashlight indicates regular burglars.”

For a time the girls were so put out, and so nervous over what had happened, that they could not ascertain what, if anything, was missing.

Then Cora began to reckon up her belongings, and found that a number of articles had been taken. Hazel found the same misfortune had visited her.

“There are lots of my things gone,” said Cora.

“What?” asked Walter, producing pencil and paper. “Let’s get at this systematically.”

“Oh, well, there are lots of things you – you wouldn’t understand about,” said Cora, blushing slightly.

“That’s true enough,” Walter admitted with a smile. “You are not on the witness stand, so you needn’t mention face powder, nose rings – ”

“Well, I like that!” cried Cora. “As if we used face powder!”

“Just for that he will have to eat at the second table,” pronounced Hazel.

“Come on!” challenged Jack, laughing. “Get down to business. What sort of things are missing, Cora?”

“Girls’ things, of course,” said his sister. “We didn’t have much else up here.”

And that, it developed, was what was missing. Trinkets, some toilet articles, including a silver-mounted set belonging to Cora which Jack had given her the previous Christmas, were gone. Hazel lost a silver-backed mirror and a box full of bright ribbons.

“Well, this beats me!” said Walter with a puzzled air, as he looked at the list he had made. “They took some things they may possibly dispose of at a pawnshop, but why grown men burglars should want hair ribbons, or neck ribbons, or whatever ribbons they are, gets me.”

“What makes you think they were men?” asked Belle.

“Who else would it be?”

“Well, we first had a theory that the upsetting might have been done by boys,” said Cora.

“Yes, that theory would fit, under certain circumstances,” agreed Walter. “So would the taking of the flashlight. Almost any boy would have been glad to get that. But what boy would take a lot of pretty ribbons, even though he were enough of a criminal to know that he might be able to dispose of the silver-mounted toilet articles? It doesn’t jibe.”

In the main, they were forced to agree with Walter.

“Well, the fact remains that we have had another visit from the unknowns,” concluded Walter, “and what are we going to do about it?”

For a moment no one knew what to say. And then, as brains were busy with the mystery, several schemes were offered.

“Put some animal traps about and catch the intruders,” said Jack.

“One of us stay and watch, while the others go away,” was Paul’s contribution.

“Sprinkle talcum powder on the floor, and then we can track them by the marks,” offered Hazel.

“Not such a bad idea,” declared Jack, as the others laughed. “It has been known to work.”

“Call in the police,” came from Bess.

“Pooh!” scoffed Cora. “If they couldn’t get back my automobile they can’t find mysterious thieves who enter through locked doors or windows, and vanish into thin air with their ill-gotten gains.”

“Let – let’s go home!” faltered Belle.

“Nonsense!” cried Cora. “We’ll stick it out. It is just getting interesting.”

“That’s all right,” announced Belle, “but suppose – suppose they come in the night, when we’re asleep, and take one of us?”

“Let them begin on Bess,” suggested Jack, with a laugh. “No offense, of course, fair one,” and he bowed, “but you know you could give a good account of yourself if some one did try to walk off with you.”

“Don’t dare suggest such a thing!” cried the plump twin. “I’d never go to sleep if I thought they’d come at night.”

“They do seem to confine their visits to daytime, and to the periods when we are away,” said Cora.

“Which makes it look, more than ever, as if they watched the bungalow and knew just when to take advantage of our absence,” commented Paul.

“Oh, don’t say that!” begged Belle. “Just think – they – they may be watching now!”

“Well, if they are let’s go and see if we can rout them out,” suggested Jack. “There aren’t many places of concealment about the bungalow.”

While the other girls helped Cora and Hazel put to rights the upset rooms, the boys made a thorough search outside. There did not seem to be any place where the mysterious persons might conceal themselves in order to spy on the bungalow. There were trees all about, but the underbrush had been cut away, and there was small chance for concealment. The boys also started to make an inspection about their own bungalow, but this was cut short by a shower that came up.

“Well, so far, we are just about where we started,” said Jack, as he and his two chums were eating supper with the girls that night. “We haven’t found out anything.”

“But we will!” declared Cora. “I’m not going to be beaten this way. We’ll organize a campaign.”

They talked to this end, making a tentative plan that the next time they went off on a trip, some member of the party would be left behind in concealment in the bungalow, to see, if possible, who the visitor or visitors were.

“And if that doesn’t work we’ll try something else,” said Walter.

It was evident, though, that after the first few trials the new plan was not going to work. Though the boys took turns in remaining in concealment while the others went away, not a sound or sign of disturbance was noted. No furniture was misplaced, and nothing was taken.

“We’ve got to have a new scheme,” said Cora. “Let’s talk to Mr. and Mrs. Floyd about it. Maybe they can suggest something.”

But the caretaker and his wife had nothing to offer. They were as much worried and disturbed by the queer happenings as were the girls and boys. And though they were generous and kindly souls, they were not quick thinkers, and had little imagination.

“It’s just spirits,” said Mrs. Floyd. “Spirits come and go.”

“There aren’t any such things,” declared Cora.

“Maybe it’s lightning,” suggested Mr. Floyd. “We have pretty heavy thunderstorms up here.”

“Lightning can’t move furniture, nor carry off looking glasses and hair ribbons,” Cora went on.

“Well, once lightning struck Jim Dobson’s cabin,” the caretaker said, “and knocked all his pots and pans off the stove, and burned a hole right through his clock.”

“That’s within the bounds of possibility,” admitted Jack.

“It’s boys!” decided Walter. “You’ll find that some youngsters are up to these tricks, and they’re cute enough to cover up their tracks.”

“That’s it,” said Paul. “They’re too cute. They don’t leave any tracks. How they get in and out again, without leaving a clew or a mark is more than I can see.” For an examination of the place after the losses suffered by Cora and Hazel had disclosed no apparent means of egress or ingress.

One evening when the girls had gone over to the boys’ bungalow to sit and talk, Cora, who had gone to the end of the porch, whence a view could be had of the other building, uttered an exclamation.

“There’s a light in our bungalow!” she called. “Did we leave one burning?”

“No,” answered Belle. “I put it out, as I was afraid of fire.”

“Well, one’s there now. See how it dances about!”

Indeed, a light could be observed, dancing up and down, flashing first from one window and then from another.

“It’s Mr. or Mrs. Floyd,” said Jack.

“They’ve gone to the village,” Paul said. “I saw them go.”

“It’s the mysterious visitors!” cried Walter. “They’re using Cora’s flashlight! Come on, boys, this time we have them!”