The Outdoor Girls in a Motor Car; Or, The Haunted Mansion of Shadow Valley Read online

  CHAPTER VII

  MR. LAGG'S OFFER

  With a broad smile on her face, the maid came back, escorting Mr. Lagg,who, at the sight of the girls, bowed low, and declaimed:

  "I'm glad to see you, I hope we'll agree, That you are as happy Now to see me!"

  "Good!" cried Betty, clapping her hands until the palms were rosy. "Weare indeed glad to see you."

  "Of course," added Mollie. "How could you leave your store long enoughto run down here, Mr. Lagg?"

  "Well, it _is_ running a risk," he answered, as he took a chair Amy setout for him. "But I have important business down here, so I though I'dcall. I worked out that little verse on the way down," he confided tothe girls.

  "You are extending your range," remarked Grace, who was languidly eatingchocolates. "That is, your poetry is getting more elaborate."

  "It is indeed!" exclaimed Mr. Lagg, brightening up on hearing thispraise. "I am glad you noticed that. Yes, I am gradually getting itbetter, and on a higher plane. That is what worried me about leaving mystore alone."

  "Did you leave it all alone?" asked Betty, for the girls knew he didquite a trade with the summer colonists of Rainbow Lake.

  "Practically so," was the answer. "I have a boy I hire occasionally, buthe hasn't the least talent in the line of poetry, and I know mycustomers will miss that. However, they will have to put up with it fora few hours. I am going back as soon as I can.

  "Perhaps," he added, cautiously, "I should never have worked up myversifying talent; but, somehow, I just couldn't seem to help it. Istarted in a modest way, just as I did in my store, and it seemed togrow of itself. Now my customers have come to look for it, and I know ifJohnnie--that's the boy I spoke of as being left in charge--I know he'llrhyme the wrong words--that is, if he attempts anything at all, which heis likely to do. And nothing displeases a customer more than to listento wrong rhymes; don't you think so?" and he appealed to the chums.

  "Of course," assented Mollie, with a look at the others to ask theiropinion as to what Mr. Lagg had in view, and what his object could be incalling.

  The storekeeper appeared to be nervous, and ill at ease, and it wasevident that he had attired himself with care for the trip.

  He was obviously uncomfortable in his "Sunday-go-to-meetin'" suit, and astiff shirt and a stiffer collar did not add to his ease. But he stoodit manfully. Sitting on the edge of the chair he looked from one to theother, twirling his hat.

  "How--how is trade?" asked Mollie, feeling that she ought to saysomething, but scarcely knowing what. She seemed to recall that this wasa way to engage a business man in conversation.

  "Not what it should be," replied Mr. Lagg, with a smile. He seemed tofeel that he was making progress now. At least he was in his ownelement. "Not what it should be. I miss you girls. When you used to runin now and then for something in my line I did better. You were goodcustomers, and I always shaded the prices all I could, besides recitingall my newest poetry as soon as I made it up. It isn't everyone I dothat for," he added. "Why, to some customers I never speak more than aline or two in a whole year. But you girls--well, you're different. Imiss seeing the _Gem_ tied at my dock. There isn't a chance that you'llgo cruising again; is there?" he asked, eagerly.

  "Come, sail upon the bright blue lake, You, of my goods a choice may make. My prices you will find quite right, I'm open until eight at night."

  "You always did treat us right, Mr. Lagg," laughed Betty, "but I don'tbelieve we'll do any more cruising--at least, not right away. We'regoing in for land cruising now."

  "Land cruising?"

  "Yes, Mollie has an auto, and we were just planning a tour when you camein."

  "So, you see, unless you could arrange to have a sort of travelingstore, we couldn't patronize you very often," went on Mollie, wonderingwhy Mr. Lagg did not come to the point. He had evidently called withsome special object in view, and leaving his establishment during theheight of the season would seem to indicate that the object was not atrivial one. "But we'll stop in whenever we're near you," Mollieconcluded.

  "Thank you, Miss Billette. So you are going on an auto cruise; eh?"

  "A tour, yes."

  "Then that may fit in with what I have called about," said Mr. Lagg,quickly. "Yes, it may be just the very best idea yet. Excuse me a momentwhile I think," he said, and he closed his eyes. His head nodded two orthree times in a satisfied sort of way, and occasionally he murmured tohimself. The girls looked at one another, unable to fathom the meaningof this conduct. Then Mr. Lagg whistled and suddenly exclaimed:

  "I have it! You can solve this mystery, too!"

  "Another mystery?" queried Grace, rather languidly, as she took a morecomfortable position on the divan. "We seem to be having a monopoly ofthem."

  "What is it, Mr. Lagg?" asked Mollie.

  "Were you much afraid of that ghost on Elm Island?" he replied, byasking another question.

  "Not at all!" declared Betty, quickly.

  "Especially as it was only--what it was," said Grace, with a laugh.

  "Then I've got another one for you to solve," went on the poeticalgrocer. "It's a haunted house!"

  He beamed on the girls as though he had proposed the most delightfulsort of an affair.

  "A--a haunted house!" faltered Amy.

  "That's it--a regular haunted house--groans, slamming doors--queerlights, and all that sort of thing."

  "Where--where is it?" asked Betty.

  "In Shadow Valley."

  Instinctively the four girls started.

  "Why, we--we were near there the other day," said Mollie. "We didn't seeany house that appeared to be haunted, though."

  "No, and that's just it," went on Mr. Lagg. "You see it's only recentlybeen haunted, and that makes it all the worse."

  "Tell us about it," suggested Betty. "Girls, this is gettinginteresting. We must take this in on our tour."

  "Don't!" pleaded Amy, the timid one, shivering in spite of herself.

  "You know that old mansion, at the far end of the valley; don't you?"asked Mr. Lagg. "At least, you must have heard about it."

  "You mean Kenyon's Folly?" responded Mollie, who began to have aglimmering of what was meant.

  "Yes," answered the storekeeper. "Mr. Kenyon, who was once amillionaire, built that mansion after ideas of his own. Everyone saidShadow Valley--at least that part of it--was too gloomy and out of theway to be a good place for a mansion like that, and the folks aroundhere said it was foolish. They called it Kenyon's Folly from the start,though he named it Kenyon's Woodland Lodge, or some such fancy name asthat."

  "And did it turn out as the people said?" asked Amy.

  "Yes," answered Mr. Lagg. "From the very first his wife took a disliketo the place. She said it was too gloomy, and in spite of a lot ofentertainments and parties--elaborate affairs they were, too--life therewas dreary. They had lots of company, but Shadow Valley seemed to cast agloom over the big mansion.

  "Then Mr. Kenyon died, and some said it was partly due to grief over thefact that his wife refused to live in the place. At any rate, he closedit up, and went abroad, I believe, not living long after he started totour Europe.

  "Then there was trouble over his will, his whole estate was thrown intocourt, and the heirs fought and squabbled over the mansion, as well asover the rest of his possessions. No one could get title to it, and theplace fell into neglect."

  "Yes, it certainly does look lonesome and forlorn around there," saidBetty. "I was close to it about a year ago, but I never heard that itwas haunted."

  "It wasn't until recently," said Mr. Lagg, "and that brings me to thispart of the story, and that's why I called on you. I might say that Inow own that haunted mansion."

  "You own it!" cried Grace. All the girls were interested now, whateverthey had been before.

  "Yes. After years of litigation the courts, last spring, ordered themansion sold. I saw a chance to get a bargain, and as I had some moneypu
t away I bought in the property. I got it cheap, but I purchased itthrough an agent so that no one, except a very few, know that I own it."

  "What are you going to do--live in it?" asked Mollie.

  "Ugh! Fancy living in a haunted house!" exclaimed Amy, looking over hershoulder as though she felt a ghostly hand laid on it.

  "No, I don't intend to live there," said Mr. Lagg. "I didn't buy it forthat. But I thought it would be a good investment, and I had an idea offorming a company, and turning it into a hotel. By making some changesthe surroundings could be made less gloomy, and the place would pay.

  "But before I could do that I got an offer from some doctors, who wantedto establish a sort of sanitarium for the treatment of nervous diseases.They saw the mansion, and decided it would be just the thing, being soquiet, and all that."

  "I should think it would be," murmured Grace.

  "But where does the 'haunt' come in?" Betty wanted to know.

  "I'm coming to that," spoke Mr. Lagg, being now too interested to quotea couplet. "Matters were going on well, and I expected to close thedeal, and make a pretty penny, when the doctors said they couldn't takethe property, as it was haunted, and of course a haunted house, withqueer noises in the night, would never do as a home for nervousinvalids. I could see that myself."

  "But how did they know it was haunted?" asked Mollie.

  "It seems that some of them were inspecting the place late oneafternoon, a day or so ago," said the storekeeper, "when a shower cameup, and they had to stay inside until it was over, which was after dark.It was then they heard the queer groans, and saw strange lights, andfelt cold draughts of wind."

  "Bur-r-r-r-r!" shivered Amy. "This is getting on my nerves."

  "I guess it got on the nerves of the doctors," said Mr. Lagg, ruefully,"for they called off the deal, and said they could not take the houseunless I would get rid of the haunt. Of course I laughed, and made aninvestigation."

  "And you didn't find anything?" put in Betty, quickly.

  "Excuse me, Miss, but I did," replied Mr. Lagg, quietly.

  "You did! What?"

  "Just what the doctors said--queer groanings--strange lights--likebrimstone, and the same sort of smell--sulphur. I--I didn't stay long, Idon't mind admitting that."

  For a moment the girls were silent, and then Mollie spoke.

  "Did it ever occur to you, Mr. Lagg," she asked, "that those doctorsmight be playing a trick on you to get you to part with the propertycheap? A haunted house isn't the best sort of real estate, you know; buthaunts and ghosts can easily be imitated, and those doctors might be upto some such trick as that."

  "I did think of that," went on the storekeeper, "and that is why I cameto you."

  "You came to us!" chorused the girls.

  "Yes. You see, you solved the mystery of the ghost of Elm Island, and Idon't see why you can't do the same thing for Kenyon's Folly."

  "But that ghost, on the island--was a natural one," said Grace. "And theboys helped us to discover what it was."

  "Very well," said Mr. Lagg, calmly. "I've no objection to the boyshelping you in this case. In fact, it might be better. But what I wantto know is, could you--and would you--dare try to solve the ghostlymystery?"

  The girls looked at one another. Amy was shaking her head in thenegative. Betty and Mollie seemed interested, for they were bornleaders, Betty especially. Grace reached for another chocolate, always asource of inspiration for her.

  "Of course I'm not asking you to give up your time and go to a lot oftrouble for nothing," resumed Mr. Lagg, quickly. "I am willing to payyou well. So I make you this offer. If you can discover what makes thoseghostly sounds and manifestations, and can show me a way to get rid ofthem, if they are natural, which I am sure they are, why, I'll pay you agood sum. I can afford to, for I can then sell the mansion to thesanitarium doctors. Will you try it?"

  "But if those doctors are interested in depreciating the value of theproperty, by making it appear haunted, they would have a good object inpreventing us from finding out what causes the queer noises and lights,"said Mollie.

  "Exactly," agreed Mr. Lagg, "but you girls were smart enough to solvethat five hundred dollar mystery, and the mystery on Elm Island, so Ihave hopes that you can help me out in this. That is why I called. Willyou help me?"

  "Shall we, girls?" asked Mollie.