Part 3 (1/2)
”Anybody can see those two are loaded,” complained Alec in Max's ear, as they brought up the rear of the procession. ”Trust Jarve Burnside to back up Sally every time, and Josephine to join 'em. It's all right enough for him to talk about restoration. He could do it by putting his hand into his pocket. Between 'em they'll get Sally completely off her head.”
”There's no harm in looking the thing over,” Max replied, absently, but Alec continued to rail. Bob turned and frowned at him as meaningly as Bob's round and sunny face could frown. Why must Alec follow Max's lead?
he thought. One could gain one's point quite as readily and much more agreeably by being amiable. At least, this was Bob's philosophy.
”The door, Sally, the door!” urged Josephine, as the party finished the survey of the lower floor. ”I can't take an interest in any more open rooms while I know there's a closed one waiting. Do lead the way up that impressive staircase and take us straight to the place of mystery!”
”Sally's still young enough to want to save the plums in the cake till the last,” said Jarvis, as they went up. ”Well, well, this stairway is certainly a quaint one--risers about five inches, aren't they, Max?
Treads fourteen, at least. Fine for infants and invalids. And comfortable for sitting out dances, Sally!”
”But not so interesting as the five steep steps we are coming to,” and Sally led the way down the hall to the side pa.s.sage, from the end of which rose the little flight which approached the locked door. ”Here we are. Now who'll let us in?”
It took the combined efforts of Jarvis and Max, working with one tool after another, to effect an entrance. Clearly this was not an ordinary closet lock which barred the way. But at last, with a vigorous wrench, Jarvis held the yielding door under his hand. From the top step he waved his free arm at the company, standing below.
”One last guess apiece,” he demanded of them, ”before you look.”
”Old seed catalogues and empty hair-oil bottles,” said Alec.
”A skeleton in armour!” cried Bob.
”All your Aunt Alicia's ball-dresses and your Uncle Maxwell's wedding clothes,” guessed Josephine.
”A mahogany sideboard, dining-table and chairs,” murmured Sally, at which there was a general shout.
”Dead beetles, fallen plaster, and a musty copy of 'Plutarch's Lives,'”
was Max's cynical contribution.
”Open the door!” cried Bob.
But Jarvis still held it. ”I think I'll let in one at a time,” he declared. ”Who'll venture first?”
Sally walked up the steps.
”Oh, don't send her in all alone!” begged Josephine. ”Think, what if there _should_ be--”
”The skeleton in armour,” urged Bob.
”Go on, Sally, you're game,” and Max grinned at Josephine and Bob. ”It doesn't take much to rouse some people's imaginations. Go ahead, and confront the seed catalogues and the beetles with a bold front.”
Jarvis, smiling at Sally and taking note of her pink cheeks, detained her with an injunction. ”Whatever you find,” he stipulated, ”make no outcry.
Retain your composure. Remember your friends are close at hand. Three raps on the inside of this door will summon four stout retainers to your side. Are you ready?”
”Ready.”
”Remember that defunct beetles are harmless, old clothes retain no characteristics of their former owners, no matter how blood-thirsty, and empty bottles probably never contained fatal potions. If the place is dark, press your finger on this”--he thrust a small electric search-light into her hand--”and the mystery will be illumined. Brave lady, enter!”
He opened the door just wide enough to admit the slim figure in black, which slipped through and promptly closed the door upon itself.
Josephine interfered.
”Jarvis, don't let her shut that door! Something might happen! There might be a--hole in the floor.”