The Seven Sleuths' Club

Alfred threw open the door and gave an answering halloo, then, turning, he assisted Geraldine down the icy steps.

“I wonder where Danny O’Neil is,” the Colonel exclaimed. “I told him to put ashes on the icy places, but he has not done so.”

The girls graciously welcomed Geraldine and made room for her on the deep, blanket-covered straw between Doris and Merry.

“This is for you to blow upon,” the former maiden said, producing from her coat pocket a small tassled horn.

For one moment Geraldine hesitated. Then, as the two big white horses raced along the snowy road with bells jingling, she soon caught the spirit of merriment and found herself tooting upon a horn as gayly as the rest of them. Never before had she had such a jolly time, and she was actually feeling a bit sorry for the city girls who had never been on a straw ride.

The sun was bright, and long before they reached their destination they could see the ice glistening on Little Bear Lake.

As they drew up at the Inn, to rest the horses a moment before turning up the seldom traveled East Lake Road, Mr. Wiggin, who lived in that lonely spot all the year round with only now and then an occasional guest for a week-end, came out to greet them.

Usually his face beamed when he saw these young people, but today he looked greatly troubled.

“What’s up, Mr. Wiggin?” Bob drew rein to inquire. “You look as though you’d seen a ghost.”

“Well, I came out to warn you young people you’d better turn back. Old Man Bartlett, who lives a mile up the wood road, was robbed an hour ago. He’d been to town to get five hundred dollars he had in the bank; got a queer notion that the bank was going to pieces. He had the money in an old bag. Someone must have seen him getting it out of the bank and followed him. Anyway, when he reached the wood road, he was held up and robbed.”

“Well, with all the unbroken snow there is about here, it will be easy enough to catch the thief,” Bob said.

“You’re wrong there!” Mr. Wiggin replied. “Several teams have been along the lake road since the blizzard, and he could walk in the ruts.”

“Was poor old Mr. Bartlett hurt?” Gertrude asked anxiously.

“No, not at all. He was blindfolded and tied to a tree, but he worked himself loose before long, but the robber was gone. The old man came right down here and we telephoned to the sheriff. He and his men will be along most any minute now. There may be some shooting, and so I’d advise you boys to take the girls right back to town.”

Jack looked anxiously at Merry, who was vigorously shaking her head. “We aren’t afraid, are we, girls?”

“Not with all these boys along to protect us,” Peg declared.

Then Doris explained: “We’re only going as far as our cabin. Mr. Wiggin; that’s not more than a mile from here. We’ll be all right.”

“That crook is probably headed for Dorchester by this time,” one of the boys put in. “We don’t want to miss our fun for him.”

The innkeeper watched the sleighload of young people until they had disappeared over a rise on the East Lake Road. Then he shook his head solemnly and, having entered the inn, he said to his wife: “That’s what I call a foolhardy risk. It might be all right for the young fellows if they were alone, but to take a parcel of girls into, nobody knows what, I call it downright foolishness and maybe worse. Why, if they cornered that highwayman, he would shoot, of course, and there’s no tellin’ who he would hit. Well, not being their guardeen, I couldn’t prevent their goin’, and so they’ll have to take their chance.”

Meanwhile the two big white horses were slowly ploughing their way along the east side of the lake. In some spots the road was quite bare where the wind had swept across the fields, but in other places the horses floundered through deep snow drifts. The road, which led close to the lake, was hilly and winding, and, as it neared the cabin, it entered a dense wood of snow-covered pines.

“Girls, why don’t you blow on your horns?” Bob called as he looked back. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. That highwayman would make straight for Dorchester, where he could lose himself in the crowd.”

Suddenly Merry called out excitedly: “Bob, stop a minute. Look there. That highwayman must have been riding on a horse. If he was, this is where he turned and cut through the pine woods to the old Dorchester road.”

Jack and several other boys leaped over the side of the sleigh and followed the tracks for some distance through the woods where there was little snow on the ground.

“Say, boys, I believe Merry’s got the right idea,” Jack said as he climbed back to his former place next to Geraldine.

“Glad we saw those tracks,” Alfred put in. “Now we know for sure that the highwayman won’t be lurking around the Drexel cabin.”

“Sure thing! Let’s proceed to forget about him and have a good time,” Bob called in his cheerful way. “Blow on your horns, girls. Make this silent pine wood ring.”

“Ohoo! Isn’t it silent, though, and dark, too? Hurry up, Bob. We’ll blow hard enough when we get out into the sunshine,” Betty Byrd said as she huddled close to Merry.

Peggy took occasion to say to Doris in a low aside that the boys of the “C. D. C.” probably thought they now had a mystery to solve, but they wanted the girls to think that they weren’t interested.

“That’s what I thought,” was the whispered reply. “Wouldn’t it be great if we solved the mystery first?”

“Say, cut out the secret stuff,” one boy across from them called; then, taking his companion’s horn, he blew a merry blast. The others did likewise and so noisily they emerged into the sunshine, but some of the girls glanced back at the silent, somber woods as though fearing that the robber had been there all of the time.

Just in front of them and built close to the lake was a picturesque log cabin.

“Hurray for the Drexel Lodge!” someone called.

“You girls stay in the sleigh,” Bob said, “while we boys see if the robber is hiding in the cabin.”

Five minutes later the lads reappeared. “He certainly isn’t here!” Jack declared. “The heavy wooden doors and blinds are all padlocked just as they were left last fall, and there is no other way of entering, so let’s forget the highwayman and have the good time we planned.”

“Jack is right,” Bertha said as she leaped from the sleigh. “Doris, you have the key. Let’s open the doors while the boys get wood from the shed. Isn’t the ice just great? I can hardly wait to get my skates on, can you, Geraldine?”

The young people were convinced that the highwayman was not in their neighborhood, and, with fear gone, they resumed their merrymaking. The blinds were opened, letting in a flood of sunlight. A big dry log was soon burning on the wide hearth and a fire was started in the kitchen stove.

“Now, girls,” Doris announced, “I want you all to go skating with the boys while I prepare our supper.”

“Why, won’t you be afraid to stay here alone?” Betty Byrd, the timorous, inquired. “I wouldn’t do it for worlds.”

“No, I’m not afraid,” Doris replied. “The house was locked, so why should I be?”

“Sure thing. You’re safe enough!” Bob declared. “But if you do get frightened, blow on your horn.”

Ten minutes later Doris was alone, or at least she thought she was alone in the log cabin.

CHAPTER XIII.

A BAG OF GOLD

Doris sang softly to herself as she busily unpacked the lunch baskets and spread the long table in the living-room. The tea kettle was soon humming on the stove and bacon was sizzling in the frying pan.

“We’ll have an early supper,” she was thinking, “and I’m going to suggest that we start home early, too. Our parents will have heard about the holdup and they’ll be terribly worried. I do hope Mother, ill as she is, won’t hear of it, but of course she won’t. That’s the advantage of having a trained nurse with her all the time.” Then, she glanced at her skates lying near the door. “I suppose they’re disappointed not to get out on the ice. Well, so am I, but my ankle doesn’t feel as strong as I had hoped it would. I turned it a little getting into the sleigh, and I don’t want to sprain it again as I did last winter.” She opened a box which Bertha had brought.

“Yum! Yum!” she said aloud. “What delicious tarts!” Then she counted them. “Two apiece! I’m glad they’re big ones.”

Carrying them into the living-room, she placed them around on the long table, then, stopping to sniff, she darted back into the kitchen to turn the strips of sizzling bacon. A few minutes later she returned to the living-room with a huge plate of sandwiches. Suddenly she stood still and stared at the door of a small closet. She thought she had seen it move just ever so slightly. She knew that it had been locked, for Bob tried it just before he went out to skate.

The crack widened and Doris saw eyes peering out at her. Wildly she screamed, but the windows were closed and no one heard.

She started to run, when a familiar voice called, “Doris, don’t be frightened. I won’t hurt you. It’s Danny O’Neil.”

The girl turned in amazement toward the boy to whom she had been talking not six hours before.

“Danny,” the girl gasped, “what are you doing here?”

The boy looked around wildly: “I – I was the one who robbed old Mr. Bartlett,” he said rapidly. “I didn’t set out to do it, Doris! Honest, I didn’t! I was just a running away from home. Pa has been so hard on me ever since Ma died, and so I thought I’d clear out of it all, but I didn’t have any money. And then this morning, when you told me how Ma wanted me to get money and go to art school, well, I don’t know, Doris, what did happen to my brain, but I was just crazy mad to get money and get away from that man who calls himself my father. After you left I started walking to town. I didn’t even know I was doing it till I got to the bank. Then I saw Old Man Bartlett stuffing all that money in his handbag and I followed him, hiding behind trees, till he got to the wood road – then – I don’t know what I did – knocked him over, I guess. There was a long rope, one end tied to a tree, and I wound it about him, then I took his bag and ran.”

“But how did you get in here, Danny? The doors and windows were all locked and we didn’t see any tracks.”

“I know! I stepped on the places where the snow was blown away and I climbed to the roof and came down the chimney. Then I went in that closet and locked the door on the inside. But, Doris, I don’t want the money. All these long hours there in the dark I’ve been seeing Mom’s face looking at me so reproachful, and she kept saying, ‘Danny-boy, you promised me you’d go straight.’ If she’d a lived, Doris, I’d have been different, but ’tisn’t home without her.”

The lad drew his coat sleeve over his eyes, then he said gloomily: “The sheriff will be hunting for me and they’ll put me in jail, but anyhow, here’s the money. Take it back to Old Man Bartlett and tell him I didn’t really mean to rob him. I did it just sudden-like, without thinking.”

There were tears in the eyes of the girl and she held out her hand: “Danny,” she said, “I know how lonely you’ve been without your mother and I’ll help you. Quick, hide! Someone is coming.”

Danny darted back and locked himself in the closet. Doris hid the bag of gold and hurried toward the front door. Someone was pounding and she was sure it was the sheriff.

When Doris opened the heavy wooden door, she found that her surmise had been correct. Mr. Ross, the sheriff, stood without, and waiting near were several other men on horseback.

“Oh. Miss Drexel, it’s you, is it?” The sheriff was evidently much surprised. “We saw smoke coming from the chimney and believed that we had cornered our highwayman. Thought he might be hiding here. Of course it would be a daring thing to make a fire in a deserted cabin, but these criminals are a bold, hardened lot. Who else is with you, Miss Drexel? I guess I’ll step inside, if you don’t mind. No use holding the door open and letting the heat all out.”

The sheriff entered and closed the door, then he went to the fireplace and held his hands over the blaze.

Doris’s heart was filled with a new fear. What if Danny should make a sound of some sort and betray his hiding place? Hurriedly she said: “All of our crowd is here. Mr. Ross. There are seven boys and as many girls, but the rest of them are out on the ice skating. I remained in the cabin to prepare our supper.”

The sheriff straightened and leaned his back against the closet door as he said: “Miss Drexel, because of this robbery, I feel it my duty to tell you and your friends that you would better return to town as soon as you have had your lunch. It gets dark early these wintry days and there’s no telling what might happen.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ross.” Doris said, “I will tell the boys when they come in.”

When the sheriff was gone, the girl closed and bolted the front door, then she tapped on the closet, saying softly: “Come out, Danny. I have a plan to suggest. Bob and the rest of them may be in at any minute.”

Then, when the lad appeared, she added: “I want you to take my skates, fling them over your shoulder, and go boldly out of the front door and up the lake road. Anyone, seeing you leave here, will think you are one of our party. Whistle and stride along as though you were out for fun. Half a mile above, as you know, the lake is narrow. Skate across and go back to your work at Colonel Wainright’s, but before you go, Danny, promise me that from now on you’ll be the kind of a boy your mother wanted you to be.”

The lad held out his hand and, with tears falling unheeded, he said huskily: “I give you my word, Doris. You’ve been my good angel and saved me from nobody knows what.”

Then he shouldered the skates and started down the snowy road with long strides, whistling fearlessly. A load had been lifted from his heart and he was sure that his mother had forgiven him.

Doris watched him until he disappeared beyond a bend in the road and then she breathed a sigh of relief. She heard a stamping without and the laughing young people swarmed into the kitchen.

“Ho, Doris, who was the chap that just went by?” Bob called – but before the girl could reply, something else happened to attract their attention. Bertha, in the kitchen, was crying in dismay: “Where is the cook? What has she been doing? We’ll have to discharge her. I’m thinking. The bacon is burned to a cinder.”

Doris, thankful indeed for this timely interruption, ran into the kitchen and declared remorsefully: “Oh, isn’t that too bad, and I suppose you are all hungry as bears, but luckily I brought an extra supply. Throw that out, Bertha, please, and I’ll get some more.” Then, as she searched in her basket, she added hurriedly: “I suppose I left it burn while the sheriff was here.”

“The sheriff!” was the surprised chorus.

“Why, what did he want?” Jack asked. “He didn’t suppose that we had the highwayman here as one of our guests, did he?”

Doris purposely did not look at any of them as she put the strips of bacon into the pan which Bertha had prepared. “Oh, Sheriff Ross and his men were just passing by,” she said with an effort at indifference, “and so he thought he would stop and ask us if we had any idea where the bold robber might be.”

“He is wasting his time,” Bob declared. “I am positive that Dorchester holds his man by this time.”

Peggy and Dick Jensen entered the kitchen at this moment and the girl exclaimed: “Oh, Doris, I’ve had bad luck. I broke one of my straps, but since you aren’t going to skate today, may I take one of yours?”

What could Doris say? How could she explain the absence of her skates? She was busy at the stove and she pretended that she had not heard, but before the other girl could repeat her question, Bob called: “Here’s one for you, Peg. I always carry an extra strap in my pocket.”

Doris again breathed a sigh of relief, but it was a short one, for, a second later, she thought of something which set her heart to throbbing wildly.

The bag of gold! She had hidden it under a cushion on one of the chairs when the sheriff was knocking.

The seven boys were now in the living-room and she heard Bob teasingly say: “Jack, you’re the oldest. Sit down in this grandfather’s chair and see what you’re coming to.”

That old-fashioned armchair was the very one where the bag of gold was hidden. In another moment Jack would be sitting on it.

“Here, Bertha!” Doris called wildly. “Please turn the bacon. I must sit down for a moment. I feel faint!”

Rushing into the living-room, the girl sank into the grandfather’s chair just as Jack was about to occupy it.

“Why, Doris,” Dick exclaimed, “you look as white as a sheet! Are you ill?”

“I guess it must have been the heat from the stove or – or something,” was the vague reply. Doris was thinking wildly. How could she get the money from beneath the chair cushion with thirteen boys and girls bringing her water and watching her every move with troubled solicitude.

The skating party, which had started out so merrily, seemed destined to be a succession of troubled events. The boys and girls, gazing anxiously at the pale face of their friend, had not the slightest suspicion of the real facts, supposing only that Doris was suddenly faint.

“Perhaps it is caused by the wrench that you gave your ankle this morning,” Bertha said; then added self-rebukingly: “I had completely forgotten it, Doris, or I would not have permitted you to stand for the past hour and prepare our supper.”

The object of their solicitation, believing that for the time being the gold was safe, smiled up at them as she exclaimed brightly: “Oh, I’m just lots better now. Please, all of you sit down and eat your lunch or the bacon will be cold instead of burned. I’ll just sit here and watch you. Why, yes, thank you, Bob, I would like a cup of cocoa,” she added to the lad who offered to bring it.

While Doris was slowly sipping the hot drink, she closely watched the others as they sat about the table and began to pass the tempting viands. When she believed that no one was observing her, she slipped a hand down under the cushion of the chair and grasped the bag of gold. Then, hiding it under her apron, she arose to carry her cup to the kitchen.

Bob sprang to assist her, but Doris laughingly waved him back. “I’m as good as new, Bobbie,” she said. “I’ll be right back, so save me some food.”

Upon reaching the kitchen she looked around hastily to see where she could again hide the money. A drawer being partly open, she thrust the bag to a far corner and, with a sigh of relief, she went into the living-room and sank down on the part of the long bench which had been reserved for her.

Bob looked at her curiously. It seemed strange to him that after a fainting spell one could suddenly be so ravenously hungry, but he said nothing and tried with his usual witty nonsense to make the meal a merry one.

It was just as they were rising from the table that Bob saw something. that caused him to stare in amazement. Luckily no one noticed him as the girls were good-naturedly disputing about the matter of dish-washing, and the boys were donning their great coats and caps preparing to return to the ice.

What Bob saw was the door of the closet standing ajar, and well he knew that when they had first arrived, the door had not only been locked but the key had been nowhere in evidence.

What could it mean? he wondered, and again he glanced curiously at Doris.

Then he said with assumed gaiety: “Girls, stop squabbling and get into your things and go skating with the boys. I’ll remain in the cabin and help Doris repack the baskets. Since she cannot skate, I’ll stay and be her brave and bold protector.”

When they were alone the lad turned to the girl, whom he had known since her baby days, and he said kindly: “Now, Doris, tell me what is troubling you. What has happened?”

CHAPTER XIV.

TWO CONSPIRATORS

Doris, knowing that she could trust Bob, made him promise eternal secrecy and then she told him the whole story, withholding only the name of the highwayman.

The lad was indeed surprised at this sudden turn of affairs and he said at once: “You don’t need to tell me who it is, Doris. I know it was Tom Duffy. He was expelled from High last week and he said he was going to skip the town.”

Doris wondered if she ought to deny this, but, desiring to shield Danny, she said nothing at the time.

Bringing forth the bag of gold, she gave it to the boy.

He concealed it in the deep pocket of his heavy overcoat; then he said: “Now, Doris, you just leave it to me. I’ll find some way to return this to the old man tonight so that he may be relieved of his worrying. I’ll wait for a hunch.”

Then, as the work of tidying the kitchen was finished, Bob exclaimed: “Now bundle up, Doris, I’ll draw you on the sled while I skate. We can’t let you miss all of the fun.”

They were greeted with jolly shouts when they appeared, and Dick Jensen slid up to them, stopping only to do a double figure eight, in which accomplishment he excelled. Then, taking the rope of the sled from Bob’s warmly gloved hand, he said: “I’ll be Doris’ pony. I’m sure she would rather have me, and, if I’m not mistaken, you’ll find Rose waiting for you beyond the point.”

Bob’s face lighted. It was understood among these young people that some day, when they were older, Rose and Bob would be engaged, and since it was the only real romance in their midst, they all took a delighted interest in it.

For an hour the gleaming ice was the picture of a merry mid-winter frolic, but, as soon as the sun began rapidly to descend to the horizon, Bob took Rose’s horn and blew thereon a long, clear blast, while the maiden at his side, with cheeks as glowing as her ruddy name flower, beckoned the skaters shoreward.

“Time to be going!” Bob called as they flocked in. “The sky is so cloudy, the moon won’t be able to light us home, so we’ll try to make it before dark.”

Half an hour later the cabin had been securely locked, the sleigh filled with merrymakers, and the horses eager to be away after their long rest in the shelter of a shed.

It was nearly dark when the inn was reached. Mr. Wiggin appeared in the door to exclaim, “Well, I’m mighty glad to see you young folks headed for town. My wife’s been worrying the whole afternoon, knowing that highwayman was still at large. The sheriff and his men found some tracks just back of the inn leading toward the pine wood.” Merry put in excitedly: “Oh, Mr. Wiggin, if that robber was riding a horse, we know where he turned toward the old Dorchester road.” But the innkeeper shook his head.

“No, he was afoot, old man Bartlett said. Hal Spinney, from the milk farm, went by a spell earlier on horseback.”

“How is Mr. Bartlett now?” Gertrude asked solicitously.

“Well, he’s pretty much all in,” Mr. Wiggin replied sympathetically. Then, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, he said in a low voice, as though not wishing to be heard: “My wife wouldn’t hear to his going back to his shack up in the woods, so she’s got him in there by the fire. He’s pretty hard hit, as you can guess, that five hundred dollars being his lifetime savings.”

Bob was thinking hard. Now was the time to give the money back to Old Man Bartlett, but he had promised Doris that he would not tell how she had procured it. He thought it queer that the girl should care to protect that ne’er-do-well of a Tom Duffy; nevertheless he had given his word and would keep it. Jack was driving and was about to start the horses when Bob called: “Wait a minute, Jack, will you? I’d like to take a look at those tracks. Mr. Wiggin, I’m a shark at recognizing shoeprints. I wish you’d show them to me.”

The girls, who were not in the secret, smiled at each other knowingly. This carried out their theory that the members of the “C. D. C.” were trying to solve the mystery of the highwayman.

“Sure thing. I’ll show them to you,” the garrulous innkeeper replied. “Wait till I get a lantern. Dark’s settling down fast.”

A couple of the other boys climbed out of the sleigh, idly curious, and accompanied Bob and Mr. Wiggin, who had reappeared with a lighted lantern. Doris clenched her hands together nervously under the buffalo rope. That Bob had his “hunch” she was sure, but what he was about to do, she could not guess.

Five minutes passed, and ten; then the boys returned greatly excited. They were all talking at once. “What happened?” Merry called out.