CHAPTER XXV

The Mystery of the Lodge

The Ford boys stood in the doorway and gazed at the unexpected sight before them like persons in a daze. The fingers of the man were clutching Barry’s throat, and one knee was planted with crushing force on his chest. The face which the stranger turned toward the twins was dark with rage and exertion, and his black eyes were fierce and defiant. So utterly unexpected was this scene to the two newcomers that they remained rooted to the spot until a choking cry burst from Barry, who was looking at them imploringly.

Then Mac suddenly came to life, and a growl of anger burst from him. “Come on, Tim,” he shouted. “This man is killing Barry!”

“Keep off!” snarled the man, half turning to face them. “I’m going away from here, and nobody is going to stop me! Keep away, or I’ll——”

The last part of his sentence was never finished. Mac hurled himself on the stranger, jerking his hands away from Barry’s throat. Tim joined him with vigor, and they fairly tore him off of their chum. He came up with a spring and wrapped his arms around the twins, twisting them roughly in an effort to break away. He realized that others were coming, and his one desire now was to thrust them aside and get away.

But the Ford boys had no intention of letting him go, and even Barry, weak and shaken as he was, returned to the fight to keep the man from escaping. Catching him around one leg, Barry held him tightly while the twins tried to break loose from his iron grip, at the same time striving to throw him. Back and forth they swayed and struggled, panting and straining. The center table was pushed to one side, and they were up against a wicker chair when the others came back.

They had been coming along slowly with Carter Wolf, and could not understand why the twins did not hasten with the blanket. The lodge prowler heard them coming, and the perspiration of a real fear now stood out on his head. Like a wild animal trapped, he looked around, and just as the incoming party filled the doorway and gazed in wonder at the struggle, he drew back his free foot and prepared to deal Barry a kick that would free the leg that the boy was holding. He felt that if he could once get that leg loose he could drag the twins into the hall leading to the lodge kitchen and somehow get rid of them.

But in raising his other foot he lost his balance, and he and the twins went down in a crashing heap, breaking the wicker chair to bits. Screams came from the girls, and the coach and Kent leaped forward to pull the combatants apart. Carter Wolf forgot his forlorn condition, and his friends stared in amazement. The coats and pocketbooks on the floor, the table back against the wall, and the general signs of confusion put them all at a loss.

“Here, what is going on here?” Coach Jordan asked, as he hauled the twins off of the fallen man. But to his astonishment Kent immediately threw himself on the stranger, holding his hands out in front of him by the wrists.

“Get a rope or a curtain cord or something,” Kent commanded, and Tim turned to look for something. But at the same moment the black shadow suddenly tried a dash for the hall door. Instantly all four boys, including the bruised Barry, leaped at him and bore him to the floor. The girls again screamed, and the coach looked bewildered. The captive addressed him.

“Call these fool boys off, Jordan! You know me!”

“Who is he?” Barry asked, finding his voice hoarse.

“Why, this is Felix Morganson, nephew of the lady who owns this lodge!” was the unexpected reply.

“What!” cried the mystery hunters, in chorus.

“Yes, I am, and when my aunt hears of this, you’ll hear a thing or two,” said Felix Morganson. But the boys were not at all worried.

“That’s all right,” said Kent, warmly. “But you are the ghost of this so-called haunted lodge.”

“Yes, he is,” nodded Barry. “I saw him come up here through a secret underground tunnel, and when I arrived on the scene in this room he was stealing our coats and everything else in sight.”

“That’s a lie!” denied the prisoner, his keen eyes shifting around.

“It isn’t, and if we hadn’t come along when we did, you would have just about killed Barry,” Mac declared. By this time Tim had found a rope, and Kent took it and tried to tie the wrists of the prisoner behind him. Felix Morganson looked at the coach.

“Jordan, are you going to stand for this?” he shouted. “Somebody will get into big trouble, and you are in charge of these boys!”

The coach hesitated, plainly at a loss, and Barry quickly took command of the situation. “It’s all right, Mr. Jordan, and I will assume full responsibility. My father has been trying for a long time to find the man who has been giving this lodge the reputation of being haunted, and Mr. Morganson is the one who did the rapping and thumping. We must not let him get away.”

Before the athletic director could speak, there was a knock on the door of the lodge. They looked at one another with wondering glances, and then Charlie Black hurried to the door. One of the girls swiftly wrapped a blanket around Carter Wolf and pushed him over in front of the fire. Kent and Barry kept their eyes on Morganson.

Charlie returned with strange companions. Two men with police stars on their coats came in, driving the French couple before them. One of the men held the Frenchman’s gun in the crook of his arm. Pierre and his wife looked sullen.

“Evening, folks!” nodded the stouter of the two men. “I’m Sheriff Paulson, and this is McHenry. We’ve been keepin’ watch on these Frenchies for a few days, and just now they was outside of this window, gettin’ ready to shoot the lamps out.” He looked at Felix Morganson with interest. “So here you are, Mr. Morganson! You ain’t in Canada or South America!”

“I think he’s been here all along, Sheriff,” Barry spoke up. “I found a secret tunnel from that quarry over there to the tool house out back. He is the one who has been giving the place a bad name.”

“Found a tunnel, did you?” the sheriff asked, looking at Barry with interest. “There used to be some counterfeiters operating around here, in an old cabin that stood where this lodge is, and I guess they was the ones used it. So Mr. Morganson has been hauntin’ his own aunt’s property! These Frenchies have been helpin’ him right along, and I guess squeezin’ plenty of money out of him.”

Barry suddenly remembered something. “Which one of you shot at Wolf and his friends the night they sat on the front porch?” he asked.

“I try scare heem away,” the Frenchman admitted.

After some further conversation the sheriff agreed to take Morganson to his aunt in Cloverfield. The would-be ghost of the lodge insisted upon seeing her, and so at last he and his French allies went off with the two county officials. Jordan, Bill Jefferson, and Tom Bailey hitched up a sleigh and drove them to Fox Point, where the sheriff took Morganson and the woodsman and his wife on to Cloverfield in his own conveyance.

The boys from Rake Island did not stay long after the sheriff left. Carter Wolf thanked everybody with averted eyes and went off with his friends, who dragged the sleighs back to the lake bank before disappearing. In the morning it was an easy task for the boys to pull them on up the slope and hitch up the horses.

Barry was somewhat mussed up and quite sore, but he was the hero of the hour. They sat around the living-room fire and listened with rapt attention while he told of his trip along the tunnel, and when Coach Jordan and the others came back, it had to be told all over again. They sat up until late in the night excitedly discussing the events of the evening.

“But we still do not know why Morganson pretended to be kidnaped and then hung around haunting the place,” Tim reminded them.

“I have an idea, from some things that he admitted to Sheriff Paulson, that he did it to knock down the value of the place and buy it from his aunt for a mere song,” spoke up the coach. “He always had a perfect passion for the lodge and was determined to have it by fair means or foul. I believe that he was trying to buy it through Brand Curry.”

In this Coach Jordan was correct. Felix Morganson had always had a great longing to own Bluff Lodge, and with Brand Curry and his French friends he had planned to ruin the reputation of the place and have his friend buy it very cheaply. Until Mrs. Morganson died, Brand Curry would continue to own the property, as far as outward appearances were concerned, and then Felix would take it over when his indulgent aunt passed away. So he had acted a false kidnaping part and had lived in a small cabin down in the hollow of a mountain spur close to the abandoned quarry.

With the capture of Felix Morganson, all mysteries were cleared up. He was the one who had taken their sled and who had dropped the snow behind the chimney upstairs in the hunting lodge. Having a key to the lodge, he entered it at will. The Frenchman and his wife had been writing to him for money, and as he did not send them any, they came in person to collect it and he joined them at Fox Point. Officers of the law had become suspicious and had trailed the French couple.

The young people at the lodge were eager to explore the counterfeiters’ tunnel that night, but Barry persuaded them to wait until the following day, and they finally consented. Early the next morning they traversed it and enjoyed the experience. When the story finally got out, many came to see it.

Felix Morganson had an interview with his aunt, and the general opinion was that she was too easy with him, for he disappeared shortly afterward, and no charges of any kind were ever placed against him. The French couple also vanished and were never seen in that part of the country again.

When the young people from the Cloverfield High School drove away from Bluff Lodge on the morning after the capture of the black shadow, they all agreed that it had been an exciting and enjoyable straw ride. Barry, Mac, Pearl, and Charlie rode on the foremost sleigh, and Kent and the twins were directly behind them. Castor Oil still clung to the girl who had satisfied his sweet tooth.

“Now you boys have certainly earned the name of ‘mystery hunters,’” Pearl said, as the sleigh glided on toward home. “We’re all proud of you.”

Mac grinned. “We’ve passed our first test in mysteries! Wait until the next one comes along!” Just as the sleigh entered the timber, Barry turned to look back at the log building. “So long, old haunted lodge!” he smiled. “You are going to be mighty lonesome for your friend the black shadow!”

THE END

Transcriber’s Notes

--A few typographical errors or inconsistent spellings were corrected.

--In the text versions, delimited italicized text in _underscores_ (the HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.)

--Added a Table of Contents.