Just at the critical moment, however, the pilot managed to turn the monoplane enough to miss the row of cars. As a wild cheer of admiration and relief arose from the spectators, he brought the craft to rest without mishap.
Instantly, a crowd of people swarmed about the plane. The pilot tried to keep them back, but it appeared almost certain that before policemen could reach the scene, someone would be pushed into the whirling propeller.
Doris and Dave were seated not far from where the mishap had occurred, and now, with the intention of trying to help, they rushed toward the plane. Before they could reach the spot, the pilot had switched off the engine. The crowd continued to press about the plane, careless of the damage they might do to wings or struts.
“Get back!” Dave shouted, helping the policemen and some mechanics to control the throng.
Nearly everyone goodnaturedly backed away from the monoplane, but one man refused to budge.
“That plane nearly struck my car!” he shouted angrily. “Let me get at that pilot! I’ll show him a thing or two!”
Startled, Doris turned to look at the man and was astonished to see that it was the driver who had been stalled in front of the Mallow residence only a few days before.
“Say, who does that fellow think he is, anyway?” Dave murmured impatiently. “His old car wasn’t touched! If that pilot hadn’t done some quick thinking, someone would have been killed sure!”
They watched as a policeman remonstrated with him, and were disgusted at his sullen remarks. After he had vented his spite sufficiently, he sprang into his roadster and backed out of the parking place so rapidly that women and children were forced to scurry to escape the wheels.
“He didn’t care much whether he struck anyone or not!” Doris declared. “That man is positively vicious.”
After the excitement had died down, she and Dave went to their own roadster. There was a bad traffic jam and it was some time before they reached the gate.
“It certainly was a thrilling day,” Doris told her friend when they were on the highway. “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”
“Glad you liked it,” Dave returned. “Next year I hope to take part myself.”
“The best part of it was that no one was injured,” Doris continued. “It would have ruined the entire meet if there had been a serious accident there at the last.”
They drove along in silence for some time, but as they approached the Mallow residence, she broached the subject which had been troubling her.
“Dave, you’ve frequently been to Rumson, haven’t you?” she began indirectly.
“Sure, why?”
“I’ve been invited to visit there this summer. Do you think I’d like it?”
“Well, it’s a pretty decent town for its size. Whom are you visiting?”
“Two sisters by the name of Gates. Azalea and Iris Gates. Did you ever hear of them?”
“Gates? Let me think. Oh, sure, I remember their place. It’s right at the edge of town.”
“What kind of a house have they?”
“Oh, it’s as big as a barn. Old and rambling. It seems to be a sort of mysterious place.”
“Mysterious?”
“I don’t know anything about it myself, except that I’ve heard folks say there is something queer about it. The neighbors call it ‘Locked Gates.’”
“Why that name?”
“I suppose it’s because the double front gates are always kept locked. A fence surrounds the garden, and vines grow so thick on it you can’t get a glimpse inside. Take my advice, Doris, and don’t go there for a visit. It would give you the creeps!”
CHAPTER V
Kitty Arrives
What Dave had told her about the old Gates place in Rumson did not discourage Doris. If anything, it made her more eager to spend a few weeks at Locked Gates, for the thought of mystery was indeed very intriguing.
Unfortunately for her plans, she chanced to repeat to her uncle what Dave had said, and that worthy at once began to regard the proposed visit with misgiving.
“I’m not sure I should let you go,” he told her doubtfully. “There’s something funny about this whole affair. Don’t you think you had better give up the trip?”
“Uncle Ward, you said I could go,” Doris moaned. “Don’t change your mind now. There probably isn’t anything mysterious about the place anyway—Dave was just talking.”
“I think I shall do a little investigating of my own,” her uncle returned gravely.
He had already learned through a former business associate that the Misses Gates were well thought of in Rumson, but that of late years they had kept close to their own premises. Recalling that Jake had at one time worked in Rumson, Wardell Force sauntered out into the garden where he was weeding the flowers.
“Well, Jake,” he began, “how are your posies doing?”
The hired man straightened and regarded Mr. Force with a delighted smile.
“First rate, sir,” he answered. “First rate! Miss Doris’s roses goin’ to be in bloom inside of another week.”
Jake’s hobby was gardening, and he was never more satisfied than when at work with the flowers. The sun and wind had tanned his wrinkled face but it had brought a glow of health which had not been there when Wardell Force had first brought him to Chilton. At that time Jake had been broken in body and in spirit, but fresh air, good food and kindness had made a new man of him. His hair, which was streaked with gray, seldom was combed, and his garments usually bore the stamp of his work. He walked with a noticeable stoop.
Jake was a rather silent man and seldom spoke unless addressed. He kept to himself and when not working about the grounds usually stayed alone in his room. Seemingly, he lived only for the present, as he never mentioned the past and took the future for granted. Of his devotion to Wardell Force and Doris, there was not the slightest question.
“Jake, you used to work in Rumson before you came here, didn’t you?” Mr. Force questioned.
“Yes, sir.” Jake avoided the other’s eyes. Any reference to his past usually caused him to withdraw into his shell, but with Wardell Force he was more free.
“Do you remember a Gates house there, Jake?”
“Yes, sir, I remember the place well. A gloomy house it was, sir. Many a night I had to pass it after dark, and it sort of gave me the creeps.”
“I didn’t think anything could give you the creeps,” Mr. Force said with an understanding smile.
“Neither did I, sir, but that house—you never saw a soul enter or leave. Folks said the gates had rusted shut. But why are you askin’, Mr. Force?”
“Doris was thinking of going there for a short visit.”
Jake shook his head as he picked up the rake.
“I’m not aimin’ to advise you, sir, but if ’twere me, I’d not let her go there alone.”
“I think perhaps you are right, Jake,” Wardell Force returned thoughtfully as he turned away. “I’ll have another talk with Doris and see if I can’t get her out of the notion of going.”
Returning to the house, he found his niece in the den studying German. She put aside her book at once as he came over to her, but her face clouded at mention of the visit.
“I’ll