The Secret of the Mansion (20 page)

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Authors: Julie Campbell

Tags: #Mystery, #YA, #Trixie Belden, #Julie Campbell

BOOK: The Secret of the Mansion
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if I’d behaved better at first, jonesy might have been kinder to me. It’s too late now, though. He hates me as much as I hate him. Once I looked up suddenly

from my homework and caught him staring at me. There was such a mean look in his eyes that I was honestly scared to death for a minute.”

 

Trixie swallowed hard, thinking of her own father who was always so cheerful and kind to everyone. I never really appreciated him before, she thought. I’m

always nagging at him to buy me this and buy me that when I know he can’t afford it with four children to take care of She made a quick little resolution

to reform and immediately felt much better.

 

After a while they reined in their horses beside a stream that was hardly more than a trickle. “Golly,” Trixie said, “our brook’s beginning to look like

this. If it doesn’t rain soon, all the wells will go dry.”

 

Jim nodded. “That’s one of the reasons why I had such a hard time keeping clean at Uncle James’s. The

 

231 209 well there is just about dry.” He crumpled a leaf to a dry powder between his fingers. “It’s much drier up here than it is across the road where

we went riding yesterday. If a blaze started around here we’d have a regular forest fire.”

 

The horses drank thirstily between the rocks in the shallow stream, and then Honey said, “We really ought to start back now. Regan said not to be gone more

than an hour.”

 

Forty minutes later, they had returned the horses and were about to start down the short cut to the hollow

 

when Jim suddenly grabbed the girls’ arms and pulled them off the path into the bushes. “There’s someone up at the Mansion,” he whispered, “and I think

there’s a car parked down at the foot of the driveway.”

 

Trixie sucked in her breath. In the bright moonlight, she could distinctly see the head and shoulders of a man rising above the thicket. He was moving slowly

and stealthily across the clearing, like a cat stalking its prey, and she felt a little shiver run up and down her spine.

 

“I’m sure glad we talked you into staying down at our place, Jim,” she whispered. “That man’s no reporter. You can almost feel how evil he is from here.”

 

Trixie heard Honey gasp and felt the pressure of

 

232 210 her arm. “Let’s go tell Regan,” Honey begged. “We ought to stay at our house tonight, Trixie. I wouldn’t dare go down into the hollow with that

man’s car parked so near your driveway.”

 

“Honey’s right,” Jim interrupted. “You girls go back to the Manor House. I’m going to creep through the woods and see who that man is. If it’s who I think

it is-“

 

“Jonesy!” Trixie broke in excitedly. “You think it’s Jonesy, don’t you, Jim?”

 

He was standing in the long black shadow of an evergreen, but Trixie could see him nod his head. “He may have seen the New York papers this afternoon and

driven right down the river after me. But I can’t be sure until I get closer.” He started off on the path that led through the woods to the Mansion, walking

carefully and silently over the pine needles.

 

“Wait for me,” Trixie cried impulsively. “If he should try to hurt you, I could hit him over the head with something. Don’t go without me, Jim!”

 

“Okay.” Reluctantly, Jim waited for her to catch up. “But don’t step on a twig or make any noise that would warn him. I just want to see what he’s up to.”

 

“I’m coming, too,” Honey said suddenly. “If things get bad, I can at least scream loud enough for Regan to hear us.”

 

233 211 It took them much longer to walk along the trail than it had when they rode on horseback, and Trixie thought they would never reach the thicket

around the clearing. Neither she nor Honey was as used to stalking in the woods as Jim was, and every time their feet disturbed a branch or a pebble, Trixie’s

heart momentarily stopped beating. Suppose jonesy heard them and was waiting for them on the other side of the hedge? Suppose he had that big black whip

in his hand that Jim often dreamed about? Maybe this was what Honey’s nightmare and premonitions were all about.

 

At last, Jim pushed ahead of them through the thick vines and underbrush, and they crouched behind him, hardly daring to breathe. There was no sign of anyone

in the clearing, and then they heard the faint crunch of gravel, and Trixie saw a thin, stoop-shouldered man coming around from the other side of the house.

 

“It’s Jonesy, all right,” Jim said, his mouth close to Trixie’s ear.

 

The man peered through one of the front windows, and, as he turned away in the bright moonlight, Trixie thought she had never seen such a mean-looking face

before. His thin lips were drawn back over yellow, protruding teeth; his eyes glittered cruelly. Long, muscular arms swung ape-like from his broad, bent

shoulders; and she shuddered as she watched his thick, twisted

 

234 212 fingers light the cigarette which dangled from one corner of his ugly mouth.

 

He moved stealthily along, keeping close to the shadows of the house, and stopped suddenly beside the open living-room window. Trixie was sure she was going

to hiccup or cough ()r sneeze as Jonesy hesitated for a moment, looking over one shoulder right at the spot where they were hiding. Then, with one more

backward look, he silently swung over the window sill.

 

She could feel her breath hissing through her teeth as she crouched there, watching the glow of the cigarette as the man moved from room to room.

 

“My mug,” Jim whispered desperately. “It’s sitting right there on the mantel, and the Bible with the will inside is just beside it! Those catlike eyes of

his will see them in the dark. He’ll see everything!”

 

Oh, gosh, Trixie thought remorsefully. “y did we forget to bring them down this afternoon? She uttered a prayer of thanks that she had had the presence

of mind to slam the big oil painting in the dining-room against the wall.

 

“Sh-h,” Honey cautioned. “He’s put out his cigarette. Now we won’t know where he is.”

 

In a minute or two, the broad, stooped shoulders of the man were silhouetted against the open window. He

 

236 213 glanced cautiously around the clearing, they climbed out and thoughtfully stared up at the top floors as though debating whether or not he should

search them before departing. Finally, after lighting another cigarette and with several backward glances at the old Mansion, he disappeared down the rutted

driveway.

 

They waited breathlessly until they heard the motor of the car on the road below turn Over, and then they stood up, stretching to watch it drive away toward

the village.

 

“That settles it,” Jim said as they moved into the clearing. “I’m going to stay up here tonight and keep an eye on this place.”

 

“But, Jim,” Honey objected, “suppose he comes back and catches You while you’re asleep?”

 

“He won’t,” Jim assured her. “I’ll sleep in the summerhouse. If I sleep.” He vaulted in through the window and came back quickly with the mug and the Bible.

“At least, he didn’t take these with him. But he knows now that I’ve been living here.” He lifted the overhanging vine which hid the entrance to the old

arbor and began to crawl along to the summerhouse. “Good night, girls,” he said. “You’ll be perfectly safe down 4t Trixie’s. He doesn’t want to see you

any more than you want to see him. Don’t worry.”

 

237 214 Reluctantly, Trixie and Honey started down the hill to the hollow. “He’s crazy to try to sleep in that stuffy little house,” Trixie complained.

“But there’s no sense in arguing with Jim. He’s redheaded and stubborn.”

 

The moonlight threw long black shadows across the path, and Honey edged closer to Trixie. “Do you think that awful man will come back?” she asked, tucking

her arm through Trixie’s as they came out of the woods behind the garage.

 

I don’t think so,” Trixie told her. ‘At least, not tonight. Anyway, he won’t bother us, as Jim said. He has no way of knowing that we’re all alone in the

house.”

 

238 215

 

The End of the Mansion

 

Honey shivered as they hurried across the moonlit lawn to the terrace. “I won’t be able to sleep a wink. I’ll dream all night of jonesy’s horrid face peering

at me through that broken upstairs window. He looked so mean.”

 

Trixie wasn’t at all sure that she herself wouldn’t have similar nightmares, but she forced herself to laugh as she unlocked the kitchen door and whistled

to quiet Reddy’s frantic barking. She let Reddy out for one last run, and then, at Honey’s insistence, they locked all the downstairs doors and windows.

By that time, they were so exhausted they fell into bed without bothering to brush their teeth.

 

In spite of her worries, Honey dropped off to sleep almost immediately, but Trixie couldn’t close her eyes. Her whole body ached, but her imagination kept

her thoughts whirling round and round, reenacting all the exciting events of the past week. She tossed and turned, trying to keep her face out of the bright

path of moonlight which streamed in through the window, and finally she sat bolt upright in bed.

 

239 216 “It’s no use,” she told herself. “I just can’t sleep. I’m too worried about Jim. He’s not going to stay in the summerhouse. He’s going to run away

again tonight. I know he is. I could tell by the way he talked.”

 

She slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the window to stare wide-eyed up at the old Mansion, sharply silhouetted against the starlit sky. “He won’t dare stay

there another minute now that Jonesy knows where he’s been hiding.” Hot tears welled up in her blue eyes. “We’ll never see him again. If only that mean

stepfather could have stayed away.”

 

She rubbed away the tears which had momentarily blurred her vision. “Gosh,” she whispered to herself. “I’m like Honey, seeing things. I could have sworn

I saw a ghost floating out of that open living-room window.”

 

She rubbed her eyes again. Something white and feathery was seeping up around the roof of the Mansion. As she watched, it disappeared into space, but then,

as a puff of wind blew up from the hollow, she could see another pale, ghostlike form take shape on one side of the house.

 

It looks like ghosts, she thought with a nervous giggle. I guess the moonlight’s playing tricks on me, and I must be sleepier than I thought I was. She

turned to go back to bed when, with a start of horror, she

 

240 217 remembered the glow of Jonesy’s cigarette as he moved from room to room. “It’s not a ghost,” she cried out loud, wheeling back to the window. “It’s

smoke. Honey! Honey, ” she shouted, sticking her bare feet into her loafers. “The Mansion’s on fire!”

 

Honey opened her eyes sleepily and nestled firmly under the covers. Trixie reached across the bed and shook her shoulder. “Wake up,” she yelled. “There’s

a fire up at the Mansion. It’ll burn like anything with that junk in it. It might spread to the summerhouse before Jim could get out.”

 

Honey scrambled out of bed, her hazel eyes wide with fright. Trixie pushed her toward the stairway. “Call the fire department right away while I go warn

Jim. Hurry!” Trixie was unlocking the door to the terrace as she called this over her shoulder, almost stumbling over Reddy. As the door slammed behind

her, she heard Honey at the phone, sobbing, “Operator! Operator! Fire! Fire! It’s the big house at Ten Acres!”

 

Trixie raced up the driveway to the path, with Reddy at her heels. As she ran along, tripping and stumbling in her haste, she could plainly see gray-white

puffs of smoke curling out of the open window.

 

‘Jim,” she screamed as she burst into the clearing. “Jim!”

 

241 218 And then she saw him, crawling sleepy-eyed, but alert, from the arbor. “The Mansion’s on fire!” she got out. “Your stepfather’s cigarette! All that

trash! Jim!”

 

Instantly, he was wide-awake and through the window before Trixie could catch her breath. Then he reappeared again, almost knocking her down as she dragged

herself over the sill. “It’s that pile of old newspapers,” he called out as he hurtled past her. “Stay where you are. I’ll keep bringing cans of water.

You throw them onto the fire.”

 

Trixie choked in the smoke-filled room, and through her streaming eyes she could see that one pile of paper had burned to ashes and that the stack of magazines

next to it was beginning to smolder. She threw can after can of water on it and only vaguely knew that Honey was now helping Jim, running back and forth

from the almost dry well. The magazines, which were now a tower of flames, suddenly toppled forward and fell, showering sparks and bits of burning paper

all over the room. One corner of the old mattress caught fire; and, coughing and choking, Trixie dragged it across the floor. Somehow, she managed to pull

it out of the window and stamped out all the smoldering embers with her feet.

 

Through her streaming eyes, she saw Jim racing to the window with the watering can. He stopped suddenly and threw can and all through the window. “It’s

no use,”

 

242 219 he said, wiping his sweaty face with his arm. “The whole room is in flames. We can’t stop it, now.”

 

And then they heard the wail of sirens from the road below, mingling with the roar of the fire engines. There was such utter confusion for the next hour

 

that Trixie could never get the sequence of events straight. She would always remember the look of sheer desperation on Jim’s face as he shot past her into

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