“Oh, don’t you think that – sweet!” exulted Mabel, making a true lover’s knot of the end of her long rope of green that Nat had succeeded in intertwining with Dorothy’s ‘cross town line’.
“Delicious,” declared Ned, jumping up and placing his arms about her neck.
“Stop,” she cried. “I meant the bow.”
“Who’s running this show, any way?” asked Ted. “Do you see the time, Frats?”
The mantle clock chimed six. Ned and Nat jumped up, and shook themselves loose from the stickery holly leaves as if they had been so many feathers.
“We must eat,” declared Ned, dramatically, “for to-morrow we die!”
“We cannot have tea until everything is finished,” Dorothy objected. “Do you think we girls can clean up this room?”
“Call the maids in,” Ned advised, foolishly, for the housemaids at the Cedars were not expected to clean up after the “festooners.”
Dorothy frowned her reply, and continued to gather up the ends of everything. Mabel did not desert either, but before the girls realized it, the boys had run off – to the dining room where a hasty meal, none the less enjoyable, was ready to be eaten.
“What do you suppose they are up to?” Mabel asked.
“There is something going on when they are in such a hurry. What do you say if we follow them? It is not dark, and they can’t be going far,” answered Dorothy.
Mabel gladly agreed, and, a half hour later, the two girls cautiously made their way along the white road, almost in the shadow of three jolly youths. Occasionally they could hear the remarks that the boys made.
“They are going to the wedding!” Dorothy exclaimed. “The seven o’clock wedding at Winter’s!”
Mabel did not reply. The boys had turned around, and she clutched Dorothy’s arm nervously. Instinctively both girls slowed their pace.
“They did not see us,” Dorothy whispered, presently. “But they are turning into Sodden’s!”
Sodden’s was the home of one of the boys’ chums – Gus Sodden by name. He was younger than the others, and had the reputation of being the most reckless chap in North Birchland.
“But,” mused Mabel, “the wedding is to be at the haunted house! I should be afraid – ”
“Mabel!” Dorothy exclaimed, “you do not mean to say that you believe in ghosts!”
“Oh – no,” breathed Mabel, “but you know the idea is so creepy.”
“That is why,” Dorothy said with a light laugh, “we have to creep along now. Look at Ned. He must feel our presence near.”
The boys now were well along the path to the Sodden home. It was situated far down in a grove, to which led a path through the hemlock trees. These trees were heavy with the snow that they seemed to love, for other sorts of foliage had days before shed the fall that had so gently stolen upon them – like a caress from a white world of love.
“My, it is dark!” demurred Mabel, again.
“Mabel Blake!” accused Dorothy. “I do believe you are a coward!”
It was lonely along the way. Everyone being busy with Christmas at home, left the roads deserted.
“What do you suppose they are going in there for?” Mabel finally whispered.
“We will have to wait and find out,” replied Dorothy. “When one starts out spying on boys she must be prepared for all sorts of surprises.”
“Oh, there comes Gus! Look!” Mabel pointed to a figure making tracks through the snow along the path.
“And – there are the others. It did not take them long to make up. They are – Christmas – Imps. Such make-ups!” Dorothy finished, as she beheld the boys, in something that might have been taken, or mistaken, for stray circus baggage.
Even in their disguise it was easy to recognize the boys. Ned wore a kimono – bright red. On his head was the tall sort of cap that clowns and the old-fashioned school dunce wore. Nat was “cute” in somebody’s short skirt and a shorter jacket. He wore also a worsted cap that was really, in the dim light, almost becoming. Ted matched up Nat, the inference being that they were to be Christmas attendants on Santa Claus.
The girls stepped safely behind the hedge as the procession passed. The boys seemed too involved in their purpose to talk.
“Now,” said Dorothy, “we may follow. I knew they were up to something big.”
“Aren’t they too funny!” said Mabel, who had almost giggled disastrously as the boys passed. “I thought I would die!”
There was no time to spare now, for the boys were walking very quickly, and it was not so easy for the girls to keep up with them and at the same time to keep away from them.
Straight they went for what was locally called the “haunted” house. This was a fine old mansion, with big rooms and broad chimneys, which had once been the home of a family of wealth. But there had been a sad tragedy there, and after that it had been said that ghosts held sway at the place. It had been deserted for two years, but now, with the former owner dead, a niece of the family, fresh from college, had insisted upon being married there, and the house had been accordingly put into shape for the ceremony.
It was to be a fashionable wedding, at the hour of six, and people had kept the station agent busy all day inquiring how to reach the scene of the wedding.
Lights already burned brightly in the rooms, that could be seen to be decorated in holiday style. People fluttered around and through the long French windows; the young folks, boys and girls, being hidden in different quarters, could alike see something of what was going on in the haunted house.
“They’re coming!” Dorothy heard Nat exclaim, just as he ducked in by the big outside chimney. The broad flue was at the extreme end of the house, forming the southern part of the library, just off the wide hall that ran through the middle of the place. Dorothy and Mabel had taken refuge in one of the many odd corners of the big, old fashioned porch, which partly encircled this wing, and commanding a wonderful view of the interior of the house, the halls and library, and long, narrow drawing room.
There was a smothered laugh at the corner of the porch where the boys had ducked, and the girls watched in wonder. The latter saw Nat boost Ned up the side of the porch column, and Ted followed nimbly. In tense silence the girls listened to their footsteps cross the porch roof, then as scraping and slipping and much suppressed mirth floated down.
“They’re going down the chimney!” declared Dorothy, in astonishment.
“They surely are!” affirmed Mabel, leaning far over the porch rail.
“But, Doro, what of the fire?”
“They don’t use that chimney. They use the one on the other side of the house, and the one in the kitchen.”
CHAPTER VII
REAL GHOSTS
“That explains the basket!” exclaimed Dorothy, suddenly.
“How can they do it!” Mabel giggled excitedly.
“They can’t,” Dorothy replied, calmly, “they’ll simply get in a mess – soot and things, you know.”
“Let’s run. I’m too excited to breathe! I know something dreadful is bound to happen!” And Mabel clutched Dorothy’s arm.
“And leave the boys to their fate? No, indeed, we’ll see the prank through, since we walked into it,” Dorothy said, determinedly.
Mabel laughed nervously, and looked at Dorothy in puzzled impatience. “I always believe in running while there’s time,” she explained.
Music, sweet and low, floated out on the still, cold air of the