Dorothy Dale in the City Part 9

"They are going to the wedding!" Dorothy exclaimed. "The seven o'clock wedding at Winter's!"

Mabel did not reply. The boys had turned around, and she clutched Dorothy's arm nervously. Instinctively both girls slowed their pace.

"They did not see us," Dorothy whispered, presently. "But they are turning into Sodden's!"

Sodden's was the home of one of the boys' chums-Gus Sodden by name. He was younger than the others, and had the reputation of being the most reckless chap in North Birchland.

"But," mused Mabel, "the wedding is to be at the haunted house! I should be afraid--"

"Mabel!" Dorothy exclaimed, "you do not mean to say that you believe in ghosts!"

"Oh-no," breathed Mabel, "but you know the idea is so creepy."

"That is why," Dorothy said with a light laugh, "we have to creep along now. Look at Ned. He must feel our presence near."

The boys now were well along the path to the Sodden home. It was situated far down in a grove, to which led a path through the hemlock trees. These trees were heavy with the snow that they seemed to love, for other sorts of foliage had days before shed the fall that had so gently stolen upon them-like a caress from a white world of love.

"My, it is dark!" demurred Mabel, again.

"Mabel Blake!" accused Dorothy. "I do believe you are a coward!"

It was lonely along the way. Everyone being busy with Christmas at home, left the roads deserted.

"What do you suppose they are going in there for?" Mabel finally whispered.

"We will have to wait and find out," replied Dorothy. "When one starts out spying on boys she must be prepared for all sorts of surprises."

"Oh, there comes Gus! Look!" Mabel pointed to a figure making tracks through the snow along the path.

"And-there are the others. It did not take them long to make up. They are-Christmas-Imps. Such make-ups!" Dorothy finished, as she beheld the boys, in something that might have been taken, or mistaken, for stray circus baggage.

Even in their disguise it was easy to recognize the boys. Ned wore a kimono-bright red. On his head was the tall sort of cap that clowns and the old-fas.h.i.+oned school dunce wore. Nat was "cute" in somebody's short skirt and a shorter jacket. He wore also a worsted cap that was really, in the dim light, almost becoming. Ted matched up Nat, the inference being that they were to be Christmas attendants on Santa Claus.

The girls stepped safely behind the hedge as the procession pa.s.sed. The boys seemed too involved in their purpose to talk.

"Now," said Dorothy, "we may follow. I knew they were up to something big."

"Aren't they too funny!" said Mabel, who had almost giggled disastrously as the boys pa.s.sed. "I thought I would die!"

There was no time to spare now, for the boys were walking very quickly, and it was not so easy for the girls to keep up with them and at the same time to keep away from them.

Straight they went for what was locally called the "haunted" house. This was a fine old mansion, with big rooms and broad chimneys, which had once been the home of a family of wealth. But there had been a sad tragedy there, and after that it had been said that ghosts held sway at the place. It had been deserted for two years, but now, with the former owner dead, a niece of the family, fresh from college, had insisted upon being married there, and the house had been accordingly put into shape for the ceremony.

It was to be a fas.h.i.+onable wedding, at the hour of six, and people had kept the station agent busy all day inquiring how to reach the scene of the wedding.

Lights already burned brightly in the rooms, that could be seen to be decorated in holiday style. People fluttered around and through the long French windows; the young folks, boys and girls, being hidden in different quarters, could alike see something of what was going on in the haunted house.

"They're coming!" Dorothy heard Nat exclaim, just as he ducked in by the big outside chimney. The broad flue was at the extreme end of the house, forming the southern part of the library, just off the wide hall that ran through the middle of the place. Dorothy and Mabel had taken refuge in one of the many odd corners of the big, old fas.h.i.+oned porch, which partly encircled this wing, and commanding a wonderful view of the interior of the house, the halls and library, and long, narrow drawing room.

There was a smothered laugh at the corner of the porch where the boys had ducked, and the girls watched in wonder. The latter saw Nat boost Ned up the side of the porch column, and Ted followed nimbly. In tense silence the girls listened to their footsteps cross the porch roof, then as sc.r.a.ping and slipping and much suppressed mirth floated down.

"They're going down the chimney!" declared Dorothy, in astonishment.

"They surely are!" affirmed Mabel, leaning far over the porch rail.

"But, Doro, what of the fire?"

"They don't use that chimney. They use the one on the other side of the house, and the one in the kitchen."

CHAPTER VII REAL GHOSTS

"That explains the basket!" exclaimed Dorothy, suddenly.

"How can they do it!" Mabel giggled excitedly.

"They can't," Dorothy replied, calmly, "they'll simply get in a mess-soot and things, you know."

"Let's run. I'm too excited to breathe! I know something dreadful is bound to happen!" And Mabel clutched Dorothy's arm.

"And leave the boys to their fate? No, indeed, we'll see the prank through, since we walked into it," Dorothy said, determinedly.

Mabel laughed nervously, and looked at Dorothy in puzzled impatience. "I always believe in running while there's time," she explained.

Music, sweet and low, floated out on the still, cold air of the night, and the wedding guests, in trailing gowns of silver and lace and soft satins, stood in laughing groups, all eyes turned toward the broad staircase.

"How quiet it's become; everyone has stopped talking," whispered Mabel, in Dorothy's ear.

"How peculiarly they are all staring! But of course it must be exciting just before the bride appears," murmured Dorothy, in answer.

"Oh, there comes the bride!" cried Mabel. "Isn't she sweet!"

"It's a stunt to trail downstairs that way-like a summer breeze. How beautifully gauzy she looks!" sighed Dorothy.

The eyes of the guests were turned half in wonder toward the old chimney place, and half smilingly toward the bride. On came the bride, tall and slender and leaning gracefully on her father's arm, straight toward the tall mantel in the chimney place, which was lavishly banked with palms and flowers, and the minister began reading the ceremony.

"Hey! Let go there!" Ned's m.u.f.fled voice floated above the heads of the wedding guests, who stood aghast.

"You're stuck all right, old chap," came the consoling voice of Nat in a ghostly whisper.

Sounds of half-smothered, weird laughter-or so the laughter seemed to the guests-filled the air. The bridegroom flushed and looked quickly at his bride, who clung to her father's arm, pale with fright. The minister alone was calm.

As the bridegroom's clear answer: "I will" came to the ears of Dorothy and Mabel out on the porch, a creepy sound issued from the great fireplace. The newly-made husband kissed his bride, and the guests moved back.

Dorothy leaned eagerly forward to catch a glimpse of the radiantly smiling bride. Just then a tall palm wavered, fell to the floor with a crash, and in falling, carried vases and jars of flowers with it, and the ghostly laughter could be plainly heard by all.