Part 29 (1/2)

”Hus.h.!.+” commanded the husky voice once more.

”This is a perverse and unbelieving generation,” croaked the witch. ”Ye all doubt black magic and white astrology, and ghostly visitations. I am sent by Those Who Fly By Night--at the head of whom flies the Witch of Endor--who commune with goblins and fays--I am sent to convert you all to the truth.

”Ha! Thunder! Lightning!”

The ears of the company were almost deafened and their eyes blinded by a startling crash like thunder behind the screen and a vivid flash of zig-zag light across it.

”See!” croaked the supposed hag. ”Even Thunder and Lightning do my bidding. Now! Rain! Sleet! Advance!”

The wondering spectators began to murmur. An almost perfect imitation of das.h.i.+ng sleet against the window panes and rain pouring from the water-spouts followed. Joe Eldred, behind the scenes, certainly managed the paraphernalia borrowed from the Milton Opera House with good effect.

As the murmurs subsided the voice of the Hallowe'en Witch rose again:

”To prove to you our secret knowledge of all that goes on--even the innermost thoughts of your hearts--I will answer any question put to me--marvelously--in the twinkling of an eye. Watch the screen!”

Primed beforehand, one of the boys in the back of the room shouted a question. The witch whirled about and pointed to the screen. Letters of fire seemed to flash from the point of the wand and to cross the sheet, forming the words of a pertinent reply to the query that had been asked.

The girls laughed and applauded. The boys stamped and cheered.

Question followed question. Some were spontaneous and the answers showed a surprisingly exact knowledge of the questioners' private affairs, or else a happy gift at repartee. Of course, the illuminated writing was some trick of electricity; nevertheless it was both amusing and puzzling.

References to school fun, jokes in cla.s.s-room, happenings known to most of those present who attended the Milton schools, suggested the most popular queries.

Suddenly Eva Larry's sharp voice rang through the room. Her question was distinctly personal, and it shocked some few of the listeners into silence.

”Who told on the basket ball team and got us all barred from taking part in the play?”

”Oh, Eva!” groaned Agnes, who sat beside her loyal, if unwise friend.

The witch's wand poised, seemed to hesitate longer than usual, and then the noncommittal answer flashed out:

The Traitor is Here!

There was a general shuffling of feet and murmur of surprise. The lights went up. The Hallowe'en Witch had disappeared and that part of the entertainment was over.

”I'd like to have seen Trix Severn's face when that last question was sprung,” whispered Myra Stetson to Agnes.

”Oh! it was awful!” murmured the Corner House girl. ”Why did you do it, Eva?” she demanded of the harum-scarum girl on her other side.

”Huh! do you s'pose I thought that all up by myself?” demanded Eva.

”Why! didn't you?”

”No, ma'am! Neale O'Neil gave it to me written on a piece of paper and told me when to shout it out. So now! I guess there's more than just us who have suspected that p.u.s.s.y-cat, Trix Severn.”

”Oh, don't, girls, don't!” begged Agnes. ”We haven't any proof--nor has Neale, I'm sure. I'll just tell him what I think about it.”

But she had no opportunity of scolding her boy chum on this evening. He was so busy preparing the other tricks and frolics which followed that Agnes could scarcely say a word to him.

In the big front hall was a booth of black cloth, decorated with crescents, stars, and astronomical signs in gilt.