Billie Bradley and Her Classmates: or, The Secret of the Locked Tower

“The best sport ever!” cried Paul.

“All to the merry,” came from Chet. “What do you say, girls?” and he turned to Billie and her classmates.

What did they say? All shouted at once that such fine sport couldn’t possibly be beaten.

“Can’t be beat!” sang out Chet gaily. “Just like old Ma Jackson’s rag carpet.”

“Ma Jackson’s rag carpet? What do you mean?” asked Laura.

“She couldn’t beat it for fear it would fall apart,” was the sly reply. And then the merry lad had to dodge a hard chunk of snow Laura threw at him.

“Burr-r! isn’t it cold?” cried Billie, taking a mitten from one of her hands and blowing on her numbed fingers. “I’d never know what it was to feel cold if it weren’t for my fingers and toes. Teddy! Stop your pushing! What do you want now?”

For Teddy had seized her by the shoulders and had sat her firmly down upon his big bobsled.

“You’ve let Paul Martinson take you down three times to my once,” he accused her, while he settled himself comfortably behind her on the sled. “And now it’s my turn. Hey, look out there, you fellows – we’re off!”

And before the astonished Billie could do more than utter a giggling protest, they were indeed “off,” flying down the ice-glazed hill at a rate that took her breath away.

“Some speed, eh?” chortled Teddy in her ear. “This old boat of mine has got ’em all beat. I bet we could race them all to a standstill.”

“Why don’t we try?” Billie yelled back at him. “It would be lots of fun. Oh, Teddy, look out!” she shrieked, for they had reached the foot of the hill and Teddy had skimmed so close to the trunk of a tree that Billie afterward declared they had scraped off a piece of bark.

“Don’t worry,” Teddy said, reassuringly. “Nothing’s going to happen to you when you’re with your uncle Ted.”

At which remark Billie could not help giggling to herself. “Boys did think they were so awfully much!” Then suddenly she cried out:

“Teddy, that’s the wrong path! We have never been down it before.”

“That’s why I’m trying it,” said Teddy recklessly, as he swung down the strange path that ran at right angles to the one they were on. “The ground slopes, too, so we ought to have some more fun.”

Billie said nothing. She would not for the life of her have Teddy guess that she was afraid. They had never been down that path before, because never before had a sled had momentum enough to carry it that far.

And the ground was sloping more and more and the sled was going faster and faster with each second. The path was by no means straight, either, and if Teddy had not been pretty good at keeping his head they would most surely have run into something and have had a nasty spill.

“Oh, Teddy, can’t we stop?” asked Billie at last, unable to keep her fright all to herself. “We don’t know where this leads to. Can’t you stop, Teddy?”

“Not very well,” answered the boy uneasily. “We will surely run on to level ground in a minute. Don’t worry.”

But even as he spoke he jerked the sled around a sudden turn in the path and they came, apparently, to the end of the world. With a nasty little scraping sound the sled dived off into nothingness!

It all happened so suddenly that Billie did not have even time enough to scream. She had a sickening feeling of falling through space, and then she struck something – something that yielded, luckily, under her weight, and she sank, down, down, down, coming to rest at last in a world where everything was white and slippery and cold – oh, so cold.

She must have lost consciousness for a minute, for when she came to herself again in this strange new world she heard somebody calling her name wildly and a moment later Santa Claus poked his head over a snowbank and peered down at her.

At least, she thought at first it was Santa Claus, because his face was so very red and the snow was clinging to his fuzzy cap in such a funny manner.

But in a moment more she realized her mistake, for the red face and the funny hat disappeared and in their place were shoved two legs that she was very sure belonged to Teddy. And in a moment more Teddy himself slid down beside her.

“Hello,” she greeted him with a smile. “I thought you were Santa Claus. Why weren’t you?”

Teddy stared at her for a minute, anxiously.

“I say,” he cried, taking one of her hands and rubbing it gently. “I guess that loop the loop of ours knocked you silly.”

“I’m always silly,” was Billie’s amazing reply, as she sat up and began feeling herself all over carefully. “But it certainly did knock me!”

“Are you all right?” demanded Teddy, watching her as she stretched out first one leg and then the other. “You didn’t break anything, did you?”

“Nothing but my dignity,” she answered, with a giggle that brought an answering grin from the boy. “Teddy,” she demanded, turning to him suddenly, “what did happen, anyway?”

“I’m sure I don’t know, except that we came to the end of that path and jumped off,” answered Teddy, feeling gingerly of his forehead on which Billie could see that a large purple lump was beginning to swell. “If I had had a chance to see what was coming I could have rolled off the sled and pulled you with me. But that turn in the road brought us right on top of it. It’s a sort of precipice, I guess,” he went on to explain, while Billie eyed with sympathy the swelling lump on his forehead. “It’s about fifteen feet high, I think, and if there hadn’t been snow on the ground we surely would have got hurt.”

“If there hadn’t been snow on the ground, we wouldn’t have been sledding,” Billie pointed out, adding, so unexpectedly as to make Teddy jump: “Who hit you?”

“Wh – what?” he gasped. Then seeing that her eyes were fixed on the bump that he was still fingering gingerly, Teddy’s face grew redder than it already was, if such a thing were possible, and his hand fell quickly to his side. “Oh, that!” he said, loftily, as if it were nothing at all. “I guess the runner of the sled gave me a whack just as we dumped over. It doesn’t hurt, though. Not a bit.”

“I bet it does, too,” said Billie, as the boy pulled his cap down tight over the tell-tale spot. “Where is the sled, Teddy?” she added.

“Out there, somewhere, sticking in a drift,” answered the boy. “I didn’t have time to pull it out because I thought you had been killed or something and I had to come to look for you.”

“Thanks,” she laughed at him. Then her face became suddenly serious, and she struggled to her feet, trying to brush off the snow that seemed to cover her from head to foot. “How are we going to get out of this, Teddy?” she asked, looking at him seriously.

“Ask me an easy one,” he returned, his good-looking face extremely anxious and puzzled. “The snow is awfully deep, and I don’t believe we could ever get up to that path again. It would take us a couple of hours to go around, and besides, I’m not sure just how to go.”

“In other words,” said Billie, trying her best to speak gayly while her heart sank at this unusually long speech of Teddy’s, “we’re lost, aren’t we?”

“I guess it amounts to that,” Teddy answered soberly, and for a long minute they just stood staring at each other.

Then Billie gave herself an impatient little shake.

“Help me out of this,” she said, as she tried to push through the heavy snow that seemed to press in upon her from every side. “I’d like to have a look around, anyway.”

She found that even with Teddy’s help it was no easy task to clamber out of the snowdrift that she had fallen into, and both she and the boy were panting with exertion when they had finally managed to get out into the open.

Even there they stood up to their waists in the clinging snow, and Billie, looking desolately out over the white expanse, began to realize that she was very, very cold.

“There’s the sled,” said Teddy, pointing to two runners sticking out of the snow and marking the spot where the sled had struck. “Wait here and I’ll get it.”

Billie watched him as he struggled through the drifts, and suddenly she was aware of an overwhelming desire to sit down where she was and cry.

“But that wouldn’t do any good,” she told herself sharply, “even if this place does look more lonely than a desert. If we don’t get where it’s warm pretty soon we’ll turn into icicles ourselves, I guess.”

The wind had become stronger and more biting, and Billie’s teeth had begun to chatter. She was glad when Teddy floundered back to her, the rope of his sled looped over one arm. He slipped the other arm through hers protectingly.

“We’ll find a way out of this soon,” he said, comfortingly. “You just watch your uncle Teddy.”

Billie tried to laugh but she could not, her teeth were chattering so.

“You said that before,” she told him hysterically. “And we – we – went over the cliff!”

CHAPTER X – THE CAVE

The next minute Billie was sorry for what she had said. Teddy’s face clouded over and he looked at her unhappily.

“You ought to know that I didn’t get you into this on purpose,” he muttered.

“Oh, Teddy, d-dear, I didn’t mean it, you know I d-didn’t,” she stammered, trying hard to control the chattering of her teeth. “I’m a bad, mean, horrid girl. T-truly I didn’t mean it,” and she put her cold little hand penitently over his great big one.

“I know you didn’t,” said Teddy, his face clearing instantly. “You’re cold and tired and all upset. Poor little kid, I wish I could do all thefeeling.”

“Well, I’m glad you can’t,” said Billie, snuggling up close to him for warmth. “For you have troubles enough of your own. Teddy!” She drew up suddenly and stared at an object that caught her eye. “What is that thing over there that looks like a tangle of twigs and leaves? No, not that way. Over there – to the left.”

Teddy followed the direction of her pointing finger and his face lighted up with excitement. The “tangle of twigs and branches,” as Billie had described it, was close to the side of the fifteen-foot “precipice” over which he and Billie had plunged a little while before.

The fact that the branches were not covered with snow certainly looked as if they had been put there rather recently in a crude effort to hide the entrance to something – perhaps a cave.

“That’s worth having a look at,” he said, jerking the sled up to him and tightening his hold on Billie’s arm. “Can you make it, Billie? The snow seems to be deeper over this way.”

“Oh, I can make it all right,” answered Billie, stoutly, as she clenched her teeth and shut her eyes and floundered on through the clinging snow. “I guess I’ve got to make it!” she added, to herself.

They had almost reached their goal when suddenly they stepped into a hole hidden by the snow and sank down in the icy whiteness until Billie was almost up to her neck.

“Gosh,” cried Teddy, as he struggled out to higher ground, pulling his thoroughly frightened companion after him, “I hope there aren’t many more places like that around here. We’ll make it all right, Billie. Say! you’re not crying, are you?” he broke off, with a boy’s utter terror of tears, as Billie dug two mittened and numbed hands into her smarting eyes.

“No, I’m not crying,” she answered, giving him a rather watery smile. “I’m laughing. Can’t you see I am?”

“Poor little kid,” said Teddy for the second time that afternoon, and the sympathy in his voice pretty nearly did send Billie into a downpour of tears. She was so thoroughly miserable that it was all she could do to keep from wailing her grief aloud. But Teddy had put one big protecting arm around her now and was half carrying her over to that strange object that looked so dark against the gleaming bank of snow.

Then he let Billie go, and while she shivered by herself he laid hold of the branches and pulled with all his might.

“Ooh, look out!” called Billie. “There might be a bomb or something at the other end. Oh-h!” The queer doorway gave so easily before the boy’s strength that he was sent staggering back against the snowdrift and sat down in it most uncomfortably.

The next minute he was up again, had swept the branches and twigs aside, and was examining the exposed opening with all a boy’s eager curiosity. Billie peered eagerly over his shoulder.

“What is it?” she asked, breathlessly.

“It’s what I thought it was – a cave,” answered Teddy, joyfully. “Come inside, Billie. It will get you out of the wind anyway, and give you a chance to warm up.” He had put an arm about her again and was pushing her forward with his usual impetuosity, but Billie hung back.

“We don’t know what’s in there,” she protested, but Teddy refused to listen to her.

“We don’t know and we don’t care,” he informed her, masterfully, adding as she still hung back: “We’ll freeze to death out there, anyway.”

“But, Ted, suppose some wild animal should be in there? You know that bears hide in hollow trees and caves – ”

“Bears sleep most of the winter. Besides, I don’t think there are any bears around here.”

“But there might be a – a fox, or a wildcat.”

“I’ll take a chance on that. You must remember, the average wild beast will get out of your way if you give it half a chance. Come on. As I said before, if you stay out here, in this icy wind, you’ll surely freeze to death.”

This argument appealed to her, and, with a shivering look over her shoulder at the desert of whiteness behind, she stepped gingerly into the blackness of the cave.

Then with a little nervous giggle she ran back again, got behind Teddy and pushed him before her.

“Gentlemen first!” she said. “Anyway you’re bigger than I am, Ted.”

So Teddy, feeling as important as a boy always feels when he is protecting a girl that he likes, walked boldly into the cave, stretching a hand behind him for Billie to cling to.

“Come on, it’s all right,” he assured her. “You’ll get used to the darkness in a minute. The snow blinds you. Ouch! What was that?”

Billie gave a little choked scream and would have run out into the open again, had not Teddy’s grip on her hand prevented.

“Don’t get scared,” the boy said, and bent over to examine whatever it was he had stubbed his toe against. “I didn’t mean to yell like that, but, gosh, that thing did give my toe an awful wallop! I say, look at this!” and he held up an object that shone wanly white against the blackness of the cave.

Billie, whose eyes had become a little accustomed to the darkness, saw that what Teddy held looked like an old, broken water pitcher.

“A pitcher,” she said, adding disgustedly: “And that was what I was afraid of.”

At the entrance, this queer hole in the mountain had been so low that the two had been forced to stoop down to avoid knocking their heads on the roof of it. But now, as they felt their way cautiously, they found to their surprise that they could stand upright. The walls also seemed to have widened out and they realized with a thrill of excitement that they were in a real cave, dug into the side of the mountain.

In here it was darker than it had been at the entrance, and they had to feel their way about cautiously to avoid colliding with each other or the walls of the cave.

It was surprisingly warm and snug in there also, for the thick snow wrapped them in the warmest and fleeciest of blankets, and the only place for old Jack Frost to come in was the narrow entrance of the cave.

And once assured that the owner of the cave, whether man or animal, was at that moment not at home, Billie began to feel a sense of exquisite comfort. Her teeth had ceased to chatter, they were safe from the bitter north wind, and she had Teddy to take care of her. What more could any girl want?

As for Teddy, he had evidently found something over in one corner of the cave that interested him immensely. He had stumbled by accident over what seemed to be a pile of old junk, and now he was down on his hands and knees trying to satisfy his curiosity by the sense of touch.

“Now aren’t I the idiot!” he exclaimed suddenly, and Billie started at the sudden sound of his voice in the darkness. “Here I go feeling around like a blind man when I have some perfectly good matches in my pocket. Come on over, Billie, and see what I’ve found.”

Guided by the flare of a match, Billie made her way across the cave and kneeled down beside the boy. Then they both stared in utter amazement at what they saw.

Heaped up carelessly in the corner was a mass of so many and such queerly assorted articles that it is no wonder the boy and girl were puzzled.

There was an old alarm clock, rusty with age and disuse, a mirror, several gaudy articles of jewelry that looked as if they might have been found in ten-cent prize packages, a telephone receiver, a broken fishing rod that stood lamely against the wall as though ashamed of its own decrepit state, a sawdust doll, an empty tin can that evidently had once contained bait, a talcum powder box full of scented violet talc – Billie smelled it – and – but it would take too long to name all the strange things that Billie and Teddy found there in the corner of the funny little cave.

“Teddy,” murmured Billie as the boy’s match burnt out and he struck another one, “what do you think these things are for? Who do you suppose owns them?”

“How should I know?” asked Teddy, getting to his feet and looking eagerly about the place, illumined fitfully by the flare of the match. “Somebody comes here often, that’s a sure thing. And judging by those things,” he waved toward the conglomeration of junk in the corner, “he must be pretty simple.”

“Oh, Teddy!” breathed Billie, moving closer to him. “Suppose he should come and find us here?”

Teddy looked down at her with a grin.

“Why worry?” he asked. “Haven’t you got your Uncle Ted?”

He had scarcely spoken when there came a terrifying sound. It was a snarl of rage, half-animal, half-human.

The half-burned match dropped from Teddy’s fingers. They were in the dark.

CHAPTER XI – THE SIMPLETON

Billie did not cry out. She was either too frightened or too brave. But the next minute Teddy’s arm had reached out and caught her to him reassuringly.

“It’s all right,” he whispered in her ear. “Just hold tight and keep still. I’ll do the talking.”

Cautiously he drew her to the back of the cave, and there they turned and waited for whatever was to happen. They did not have to wait long.

Some one or something was coming into the cave. There was a growling and muttering in the tunnel-like entrance and the sounds increased as the intruder came slowly nearer.

Then there came a stumbling sound, followed by a coarse oath that made Billie clap her hands to her ears.

“It’s a man, anyway,” Teddy whispered, adding maliciously: “Stubbed his toe on that old pitcher, I guess. Glad of it.”

“Oh, Teddy, hush,” whispered Billie frantically. “He’ll hear you.”

Evidently the intruder had heard them. He stopped short as though listening. Billie and Teddy could distinctly hear his heavy breathing while they held their own.

Then a hoarse, strident voice challenged them.

“Who are ye?” it cried, menacingly. “Whoever y’are ye’ve got to git out. I’ll teach ye to go breakin’ into my cave and meddlin’ with my things. Come out o’thet, will ye?”

For answer, Teddy lighted a match, holding it high above his head while he studied the intruder. The latter, evidently startled by the sudden light, staggered back a little and flung his hand before his eyes.

The advantage was all Teddy’s, and for a moment it looked as though he would fling himself upon the little man who stood cowering there. But he hesitated, and while he hesitated the match burned out in his fingers and they were left in the dark once more.

“Light another match, Teddy – quick,” whispered Billie, and he did.

This time the man lowered his hands from before his eyes and stood blinking at them foolishly. He was so small and so slight and so puny looking in every way that the gruff voice with which he had greeted them in the beginning seemed little short of ridiculous.

And while they stared at the little man and the little man stared at them, Teddy’s third match went out.

“Gosh,” said he, groping in his pocket for another. “I only hope they hold out, that’s all. I’d hate to be left in the dark.”

He found a match and lit it rather shakily, for the whole thing was beginning to get on his nerves. And as the uncertain light flared out once more he saw that their queer new friend was holding something out to him.

“Don’t touch it,” whispered Billie at his elbow. “It might be – ”

“But it’s only a candle, Billie, and – ” Teddy was beginning when the little fellow himself interrupted impatiently.

“Light it, light it,” he commanded, glancing nervously over his shoulder into the spooky corners of the cave. “Your match will be burnt out and we will be left in the dark. The dark. I’m afraid of the dark. Hurry, hurry!”

To Teddy and Billie at the same instant came the startling thought that the man was a lunatic. His looks, his voice, his manner, were all proof of it.

And while Teddy lighted the candle with his one remaining match, Billie began to shiver wretchedly. If only they had not found the old cave everything would have been all right. They might even have been home by this time. For the moment she had forgotten how cold it was outside and that neither she nor Teddy knew the way home.

While Teddy glanced about for some place to set the lighted candle, she furtively studied the simpleton, into whose hiding-place they had been unlucky enough to stumble.

He was about twenty-one, she guessed, scarcely more than a boy. His features were as small as his body, his eyes little and red-rimmed and shifty, with an expression of vacancy that made Billie’s blood run cold. His hair, as nearly as she could tell in the flickering light, was red.

And while Billie watched him, he watched Teddy, and she was surprised to see his vacant eyes suddenly fill with terror. Then, when Teddy turned back, after setting the candle on a projecting piece of rock, the simpleton came close to him, holding out shaking, imploring hands.

“Have you come to take me away? Have you?” he asked wildly, and then as Teddy still continued to stare at him, he fell to the ground, groveling in the dirt at the boy’s feet.

It was not a pretty sight, and with a little exclamation of disgust, Teddy reached down, gripped the fellow’s collar and jerked him to his feet.

“For heaven’s sake, get up,” he cried. “What’s the matter with you, anyway? I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You haven’t come to take me away? You won’t put me in prison?” whined the simpleton, shaking and trembling there before them till Billie put her hands before her eyes to shut out the sight of him. “I haven’t done anything! Truly I haven’t! Don’t put me in prison. Oh, I’m afraid of the dark. I’m afraid of the dark!”

There is no telling how much longer he might have gone on in that manner had not Teddy put a hand over his mouth and shaken him into silence. Billie, cowering back against the wall, had begun to cry.

“Now,” growled Teddy, giving one extra shake to the whining wretch, “suppose you keep still for a minute and try to understand what I am going to tell you. We didn’t come into your cave to get you, and we’re not going to hurt you if you will do what we tell you. We’re lost, and we want to get back to Three Towers Hall. Do you suppose you can tell us how?”

The simpleton, relieved of his suspicion that they had come to do him harm, became suddenly sullen. Teddy had to repeat his question before the fellow answered.

“I can,” he said then, “if I want to.”

Teddy was about to answer angrily, but he remembered that he had heard somewhere that the only way you can get anything out of a weak-minded person is to humor him.

So he controlled his temper and said that he hoped very much that the fellow would want to – and the sooner the better, or words to that effect.

“What’s your name?” asked Billie suddenly. It was the first time she had spoken, and both Teddy and the simpleton started. The latter stared at her a moment open-mouthed, and then his manner underwent a bewildering change – became softer, more normal. Evidently he had not noticed before that she was a girl, for she had been nearly hidden behind Teddy.

“What’s your name?” asked Billie again.

“Nick Budd, ma’am,” answered the fellow, never taking his eyes from Billie’s pretty face. “Son of Tim Budd, the gardener up at Three Towers Hall.”