Part 7

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that key fits the cellar door, Aunt Mattie.”

“Why, it might at that.”

Judy forced herself to speak casually, as if the matter were of no great moment.

“The key looks about the right size,” she remarked. “Do you mind if I try it?”

_Chapter 14_

A FAMILIAR FACE

Miss Meadows willingly relinquished the key which she had found in the kitchen cupboard.

Judy fitted it in the door lock and was elated when it turned readily. Her pose of indifference instantly dissolved.

“Now we can get into the cellar!” she exulted. “Whoopee!”

Miss Meadows could not understand her niece’s exuberance. The key was only an ordinary one so far as she knew, and until that moment she scarcely had noted that the basement was closed off.

The opening of the cellar door had brought a whiff of stale, cool air into the kitchen.

Poised at the head of the long flight of stone stairs, Judy peered down into the darkness. In vain she groped for a light switch.

“I guess the cellar never was equipped with electricity,” she remarked. “I’ll get my flashlight.”

She ran to the bedroom, returning a moment later to find Miss Meadows regarding the stairway with disapproval.

“Need we go down there, Judy?” she asked to discourage her. “Since the door was locked, the cottage owner might prefer us to keep it so.”

“Oh, we can relock the door,” Judy answered, flashing her light over the rough brick wall along the steep stairway. “First though, I want to see what’s below.”

Focusing her light upon the uneven stone steps, she cautiously started down.

“Watch your footing,” she advised Ardeth and her aunt, who followed close behind. “These steps are narrow and worn.”

Miss Meadows remarked that the cellar seemed very old in contrast to the new cottage.

“It is old,” Judy agreed. “When Mr. Krumm built the cottage, he tried to save money by using the foundation of Captain Hager’s place.”

Judy negotiated the stairway safely and waited for the others at a jagged doorway which opened into the main cellar chamber.

The basement was very still, except for the shuffle of the descending feet.

“No musical chimes or the like?” Ardeth demanded with a suppressed giggle as she reached the bottom of the stairway.

Moving through the stone archway, the three found themselves in a large room. The chamber was dry, but nevertheless gave forth a musty odor.

The ancient brick walls were lined with shelves, all of which appeared empty. In fact, the only visible objects in the room were a half dozen old barrels. The casks lay helter-skelter, some on their sides, and others up-ended.

Judy deliberately walked around the barrels, inspecting them closely and kicking at them with her foot. All gave forth a hollow sound, which echoed in the chamber room.

Satisfied that every cask was empty, Judy next turned her attention to a smaller storage closet off to the left.

“This must have been the fruit and vegetable storage room,” she declared. “It’s been cleaned out though.”

The shelves were completely bare, and the roving flashlight revealed only an undisturbed layer of dust.

“We’ve seen everything,” Ardeth said, losing interest. “I think we should be getting upstairs. The camp station wagon will be coming for us any minute now.”

It was well that they had cut short their inspection of the basement, for within five minutes the camp station wagon drove up.

In a flurry to be off, Judy and Ardeth hurriedly gathered their few belongings and the precious bat from Calico Cave.

“Now have a good time in camp and don’t keep trying to look after me,” Miss Meadows admonished as she bade the girls goodbye. “Drop by whenever you feel like it, but don’t think you have to stay here over night.”

“I don’t like you to remain alone,” Judy began only to have her aunt interrupt.

“Nonsense! I’ll be all right. Now run along, and enjoy your friends.”

In truth, Judy was somewhat relieved to know that there was no reason for the Scouts to remain each night at Calico Cottage. Although the mysterious flute sounds had not been explained, and might never be, she and Ardeth had convinced themselves that no danger lurked in the cellar.

As for Bart’s warning not to go near the cave without a male escort, Judy decided that to pass on the admonition to her aunt, might only cause uneasiness.

“Aunt Mattie never will set foot inside that cave,” she reflected. “So why worry her needlessly? She’ll probably never see those truck lights again.”

At Pine Cone Camp a few minutes later, Judy and Ardeth created a sensation by producing their captive bat. The other Scouts generously credited the Beaver Patrol girls with having the very best treasure chest entry. Everyone was satisfied when Miss Lubell announced that they had won the competition.

“We certainly got in just under the wire,” Ardeth chuckled, when informed that her bat had taken first honors. “Now I’ll let him fly away, and hope he returns to Calico Cave safely.”

Making up for time which of necessity had been spent away from camp, Judy had a wonderful day with her friends. She swam, went sailboating, and in the late afternoon helped set the table for the evening meal.

Later that night, all the girls enjoyed a sing-fest and took part in folk dancing.

“What a grand day!” Judy declared blissfully as she sought her tent a few minutes before the “lights out” signal. “I hope Aunt Mattie doesn’t run into trouble. I feel guilty, knowing she’s alone at the cottage.”

She dropped off to sleep quickly, determined to check on affairs at Calico Cottage the first thing in the morning.

Judy’s intentions were the very best. Nevertheless, she awoke late and was hard pressed to dress and be on time for breakfast. Thereafter, she found herself assigned to kitchen detail with Beverly and Kathleen.

The three spent until lunch time peeling apples for pie and washing vegetables. Even after luncheon, Judy did not get to a telephone, for the unit leader hurried her off to her tent to prepare for a hike.

In connection with the hike, the Scouts planned to visit one of the nearby ranger towers. A brisk walk through the forest brought them presently to a cleared area from which arose a tall, steel framework.

The Scouts climbed the steep stairway to a glassed-in square observation room. A ranger, who had been poring over a map on a table, greeted the visitors in a friendly way and invited them to look about.

After answering a number of questions, he showed the girls an automatic fire-finder, an instrument which permitted an observer to read with precision both vertical and horizontal angles. By means of the device, a newly discovered fire could be pinpointed, and rangers immediately dispatched to the area.

“We have a network of ten observation towers in this particular area,” he informed the Scouts. “Even so all points cannot be viewed, so we find it necessary to maintain ground patrols as well.”

“Can one see Pine Cone Camp from here?” Judy inquired.

“No, the camp is one of our blind spots, unfortunately,” the ranger replied. “Rest assured, it is well protected though. Lowell Diethelm patrols that area. His Forest Service car is equipped with radio telephone. If he should observe a fire, he immediately would notify headquarters. Ground fighters would be dispatched at once.”

“Do you have many fires here during the summer?” Kathleen inquired.

“Until this year, very few. Recently, we’ve had a number of small ones, mostly along the main highway. A few though, have been of mysterious origin.”

“Deliberately set?” questioned Judy.

“We’re beginning to wonder,” the ranger answered. “Carelessness, of course, is the underlying cause of most fires. But incendiarism runs high too. Now that so many summer campers and tourists are pouring into the area, we have to be especially watchful.”

Before leaving the observation tower, the Scouts studied the big topographical map and took turns peering through the binoculars.

“Well, come again girls,” the ranger invited as they prepared to leave. “Be careful of your fires. And remember, if you do see one, report it at once. Discovery time counts for a lot.”

Leaving the observation tower, the Scouts hiked on for another mile and a half. By the time they reached the Fountain Falls trail, everyone was beginning to feel the first pangs of hunger.

“When do we eat?” Virginia demanded.

“Soon,” promised the unit leader. “I’ll get the fire started while you girls see the falls. I obtained a permit, so we’re violating no rules to build our own.”

The girls helped gather wood. Then, while the fire was burning down to bright cherry coals, those not delegated to watch, climbed a steep path to Fountain Falls.

A veil-like spray of water fell nearly thirty feet to a rocky shelf below. Ferns and moss protruded from cracks in the limestone rock.

After admiring the sight for some minutes, the Scouts retraced their way to help with supper. Already a huge tin can was warming on the coals, filled with a fragrant chowder mixture of bacon, onions, canned corn and potatoes.

By the time Judy had toasted bread, the other simple items of the meal were ready. The crisp mountain air had given everyone enormous appetites. However, there was sufficient food for everyone.

Once the litter had been cleared away and the last marshmallow toasted, the unit leader personally supervised putting out the camp fire.

She had the girls smother it with water brought from the nearby creek. Then to make certain that not a spark remained, she covered the dead coals with a heavy layer of soil.

“Now it’s time to hike down to Silverton,” she advised the group as she consulted her watch. “The time has gone very fast.”

The downhill hike was comparatively easy and the group made faster time than had been expected. As a consequence, they arrived in the village at twenty minutes to seven.

“We’ll have a short wait until the station wagon comes,” the unit leader told the girls. “It shouldn’t be long though.”

The group had been instructed to meet their driver at Luke’s Cafe, one of the few business establishments open after six o’clock.

Accordingly, they went in, taking tables and booths. Some of the girls ordered ice cream. Judy finished hers quickly, and then left the booth to pay her bill at the counter.

Two men were seated on stools, drinking coffee and munching hamburger sandwiches.

Judy cast an indifferent glance in their direction, and than looked again, more intently. One of the men she had never seen before, but she was certain she recognized the other.

“That’s Joe Pompilli!” she thought excitedly. “The man who was hurt in the truck accident! The same hi-jacker that the State Highway Patrol wants to nail!”

As she considered what she should do, Kathleen sauntered out of another booth. Judy signaled to her.

Once Kathleen had joined her, she informed her of her suspicion.

Kathleen studied the man that Judy pointed out. “Yes, he’s the one we helped!” she whispered. “The one who was called Joe!”

“He’s wanted by the Highway Patrol,” Judy replied grimly, her mind made up. “Kathleen, stay here and keep your eye on those two men. Don’t let them recognize you, if you can prevent it. I’m going to slip out of here and telephone!”

_Chapter 15_

JUDY’S MISTAKE

Rushing out of the cafe, Judy scarcely knew which way to go. Across the street, lights were on at the corner drugstore, so she decided to seek a telephone there.

As she darted to the opposite curb, she spied one of the forest rangers, who only that moment had emerged from a barber shop.

Judy had seen the Forest Service man several times since her arrival at Pine Cone Camp and knew that his name was Lowell Diethelm.

Now, instantly recognizing his face and uniform, a wave of relief swept over her. He would know how to help her notify the State Highway Patrol quickly!

“Oh, ranger!” she called, for in the excitement of the moment, his name temporarily fled from her mind.

“Yes?” The ranger turned to regard Judy with intent curiosity.

“Can you help me make a report to the State Highway Department right away?”

“Why sure,” the ranger replied. “What’s wrong? An automobile accident?”

Judy jerked her head to indicate the cafe across the street. “Two men are in there eating lunch,” she explained, trying to hold her voice steady. “I’m sure one of them is Joe Pompilli!”

“Not the hi-jacker?”

Judy’s head bobbed excitedly. “I know he’s the same one Kathleen and I helped the other day when a truck went off the road. I want to get word to the State Highway Department right away.”

“Take it easy,” the ranger advised as Judy turned as if to start off alone. “You’re mistaken, I think. Joe Pompilli wouldn’t dare to show himself openly here.”

“It does seem a reckless thing for him to do,” Judy conceded. “But I’m sure the man is the same one.”

“You must be wrong, but to prove it I’ll go over with you to the cafe,” Diethelm offered.

Crossing the street, Judy and the ranger peered in through the big plate glass window. The two truckers still were seated at the lunch counter.

“Which one do you say is Joe?” the ranger demanded.

“The one with the square jaw, seated next to the wall. I never saw the other man before.”

Diethelm began to chuckle in a hard sort of manner which grated unpleasantly on Judy’s ears.

“Why are you laughing?” she asked. “Isn’t that man Joe Pompilli?”

“Not on your life. Both those men are truckers for the Peoria Cartage Co., and they make this town every few days. It’s lucky you ran into me before you went blabbering your suspicions to the State Highway patrol. If you’d accused those two of being hi-jackers, they might not have liked it.”

“But I can’t understand it, unless I was misinformed by the state highwaymen,” Judy stammered, completely crushed by the mistake she had made. “That man certainly was hurt in an accident. He’s wearing a wrist bandage and there are cuts on his face! The other Scouts and myself gave him first aid treatment.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ranger Diethelm replied with a shrug. “The state patrolmen either made a mistake in identifying him, or gave you the wrong dope.”

“Shouldn’t I call Highway headquarters to make sure?”

“You’ll be making a silly mistake if you do,” warned the ranger. “A mistake that will make your Scout organization the laughing stock of the community. Take my word for it, those two men are Jim Brady and Donald Fine, two highly respected truckers. But go ahead if you want to make the call.”

Lowell Diethelm’s words, and particularly his air of amusement, robbed Judy of all desire to risk action which might hold up her organization to possible ridicule.

She hesitated. The ranger mistook her silence for unwillingness to follow his suggestion.

“Instead of trying to track down criminals, you Scouts would do better to look after affairs around your own camp,” he said cuttingly.

“Why, what do you mean?” asked Judy, startled. She had detected a hostile note in the ranger’s voice.

“You girls should be more careful about starting camp fires.”

“We’re always careful,” Judy insisted indignantly.

“Didn’t you have a fire this afternoon at Fountain Falls?”

“Yes, but we were granted a permit. We took great care with our fire, dousing the coals with water and covering the dead ashes with dirt as an added precaution.”

“Well, not thirty minutes ago, our spotter at Tower 32 reported a small fire close to the Falls. Fortunately, it was put out before it spread.”

“It couldn’t have been our fire, and we shouldn’t be blamed for it,” Judy said, her eyes flashing.

“Some member of your party may have dropped a lighted match.”

“None of us had any. Only our leader carried matches.”

“Well, I don’t know how the fire started,” the ranger admitted. “Just be more careful, that’s all. Now about reporting this trucker you think is Joe Pompilli--”

“I guess I must have made a mistake,” Judy mumbled. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

“No trouble at all,” Diethelm replied, as he smiled as if suddenly relieved. “We rangers always try to be of service. Watch those fires now!”

Tipping his broad-brimmed hat, he sauntered on down the darkening street.

With mingled feelings, Judy was watching the retreating figure. Humiliated that she had made a mistake in identifying Joe Pompilli, she nevertheless was annoyed at the ranger for trying to accuse the Scouts in connection with a newly discovered fire.

“I think he dragged that in just to bother me,” she thought resentfully. “But why should he take such an attitude?”

As Judy stood by the cafe window, wondering what to do, Kathleen signaled to her from the inside. Her friend’s meaning was not immediately clear. Then she comprehended that the two truckers were paying their bill, preparatory to leaving the cafe.

“I’ll have to let them go,” Judy decided. “Nothing else to do.”

A moment later the two truckers came outside. Judy did not try to stop them, but they passed almost in front of her.

The one she had taken to be Joe Pompilli gazed squarely at her. Involuntarily, he half stopped. Then, deliberately turning his gaze away, he went on.

“He recognized me!” Judy thought, her pulse pounding. “I know he was that same man Kathleen and I helped on the road. He was called Joe too!”

Ignoring the girl entirely, the two men went on. Judy saw them get into a truck which bore the Peoria Cartage Co., name on its side. A moment before they drove away, she jotted down the license number.

She had just finished scribbling the numbers on the back of an old envelope, when Kathleen joined her.

“What happened?” her friend demanded. “I thought you were going to have those men arrested. Couldn’t you reach the Highway Patrol station?”

“I didn’t try,” Judy confessed ruefully.

“You didn’t try? Why not?”

Judy recounted her conversation with the ranger.

“He talked me out of it,” she concluded. “I can’t help thinking I made a mistake too. I wish I’d ignored his advice. It’s too late now, of course.”

“I know that man was the same one we met,” Kathleen insisted.

“I’m sure of it too,” Judy nodded. “Ranger Diethelm insists he’s an ordinary trucker and his name is either Jim Brady or Donald Fine.”

“Well, that doesn’t fit in with what we learned,” Kathleen declared, shaking her head. “That man was called Joe by his friend.”

“I know,” Judy agreed with a deep sigh. “I’m all mixed up. I guess the best thing to do is to forget those hi-jackers and let the state patrol handle the situation. I’ve made a mess of it!”

“No such thing,” Kathleen insisted loyally. “We may have made a mistake, but if so, it wasn’t our fault. We must have acted on mis-information.”

Judy grinned and squeezed her friend’s hand. “You’re a dear,” she said, “always bucking up my morale. Do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Then, let’s keep this little episode to ourselves. The other Scouts didn’t hear about it?”

“No, I didn’t say a word to anyone. I just kept out of view and watched those two men as you suggested.”

“Good!” Judy drew a relieved sigh. “If this gets out on me, my name will be mud! You know, I’m already being teased at Pine Cone Camp because of the Calico Cottage ghost!”

“We’re all taking a ribbing because of that boy with the flute,” Kathleen admitted. “Any theory as to what causes the strange sounds?”

“No, not yet,” Judy replied. “Everything was quiet the last night I spent at the cottage. I’m wondering though, how Aunt Mattie got along last evening?”

“Perhaps our driver will stop at the cottage for a few minutes, so we can check.”

“I intend to ask him,” Judy returned. “It must be seven o’clock now.”

“It is,” Kathleen agreed, “and our driver is coming now!”

She had sighted the familiar camp station wagon rounding a corner. It waited for a traffic light and then came on, to park in front of the restaurant.

The driver had been instructed to make two trips, as not all of the girls could be seated in the vehicle. Accordingly, he designated those who should remain behind.

Judy, Kathleen and other members of the Beaver Patrol, managed to find a place for themselves in the first load.

On short time, the driver told Judy he could not possibly wait at Calico Cottage. However, he compromised by agreeing to let her and Kathleen off there, while he continued on to camp. Then on the second trip, he would pick them up.

“Fine and dandy!” Judy approved. “That will give us nearly an hour to talk to Aunt Mattie and make certain everything is all right.”

The station wagon climbed the darkening mountain road, presently halting near the cottage. As Kathleen and Judy alighted, they noticed that lights blazed everywhere inside the dwelling.

“Aunt Mattie is here all right!” Judy remarked, leading the way across the lawn. “I wonder why she has all the lights burning?”

“So early too,” Kathleen added.

Even before the Scouts reached the front door, it was flung open by Miss Meadows, who had noted the arrival of the station wagon.

“Oh, I’m so glad you came!” the woman exclaimed.

Her face seemed drained of all color, and her eyes had a frightened look.

“Why, Aunt Mattie!” Judy exclaimed. “Is anything wrong?”

“This dreadful cottage!”

“You’ve been hearing music?” Judy surmised.

“Music?”

“What was it that upset you?” Judy asked, realizing she had made a poor guess. “Not another one of those mysterious telephone calls?”

“No! No!” Miss Meadows stepped back so that the girls might enter the cottage. “Just come in,” she invited. “Then you’ll hear for yourselves, and I won’t need to explain!”

_Chapter 16_

ANOTHER DISTURBANCE

Scarcely knowing what to expect, Judy and Kathleen entered Calico Cottage. Everything appeared quite normal, except that a chair in the kitchen had been overturned.

“I upset it myself,” Miss Meadows explained. “I--I was rather excited, I’m afraid.”

“Tell us what happened, Aunt Mattie,” Judy urged. “What disturbed you?”

“It was a dreadful sound from the basement. A sort of moan as if someone were in pain. And then to top it, there came a series of loud thumps, very much like muffled thunder.”

“That couldn’t have been someone setting off dynamite at a distance?” Kathleen suggested. “I know the rangers were blasting trees in the park area.”

“This sound came from the cellar,” Miss Meadows insisted.

“How long ago, Aunt Mattie?” questioned Judy.

“About ten minutes, I’d judge.”

“Did you go down there to check?”

“To the cellar?” Miss Meadows demanded. “I most assuredly did not!”

“Then I guess the job is up to us,” Judy said, looking directly at Kathleen. “Where’s that key?”

“I don’t think you should go down into that dreary hole,” Miss Meadows protested.

“Nonsense, Aunt Mattie! We investigated once before, and everything was all right. You’ve not had the door unlocked since?”

“Absolutely, not. I’ve been here at the cottage all the while too.”

“Then no one could be down there.”

“I didn’t imagine those weird sounds,” Miss Meadows said. “If you had been here--”

Suddenly she stiffened. From beneath the kitchen floor there issued forth a series of muffled thuds.

“Hear it?” Miss Meadows whispered, staring fixedly at the locked cellar door.

The sound ceased and the cottage was as quiet as before. Judy and Kathleen stood transfixed, dreading to take the action which they felt they must.

“Where’s that key?” Judy finally murmured, groping for it on the high kitchen shelf.

“Don’t go down there,” Miss Meadows advised nervously. “It might be dangerous.”

“It’s worse not to investigate,” Judy insisted. “You can’t stay here and live in constant dread.”

Her fingers closed upon the key. She unlocked the door, but hesitated as she peered down the dark stairway.

“Do you have a flashlight?” she asked Kathleen, who huddled at her elbow.

“In my knapsack,” Kathleen replied. “But I left it on the station wagon, never thinking I’d want it here.”

“There are candles on the shelf,” Miss Meadows remembered. “I’ll get one, if you insist on going down there. I’d rather just move out of this place though!”