Read Online The secret of the Mansion by Julie Campbell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Julie Campbell
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that brass key has something to do with it."
They were halfway across the clearing when Trixie heard a dog barking down in the road below the Mansion. "It doesn’t sound like Reddy or Bud," she said thoughtfully. "But there aren’t any other dogs around here."
"You girls had better get inside the house," Jim interrupted quietly as the barking came nearer and they could hear the animal running up the hill. "There is a strange dog around here. I saw it this morning, a vicious-looking mongrel." They climbed quickly in through the window. "I don’t know whether it’s the same one that got tangled in the vines yesterday or not," Jim said, picking up his gun. "But I’m not taking any chances. A stray dog that’s been running wild for a long time can become very ugly."
A Hew Hiding Place • 7
THE GIRLS CROWDED around Jim at the window. Suddenly, with a loud squawking, Queenie burst out of the woods and flew into the clearing. Right behind her was a thin, mean-looking cur whose yellowish coat was matted with burrs. It wore no collar, and its cruel mouth was flecked with foam. Jim raised his gun to his shoulder.
Trixie grabbed his arm. "Don’t shoot," she begged. "You might miss and hit Queenie."
At that moment, the plucky little game hen turned in midair and came down, clawing and scratching, on the mongrel’s nose. The dog skidded to a stop, struck out at Queenie with one paw, then, with its tail between its legs, slunk into the thicket. At the same moment, Queenie, squawking as though in pain, and dragging one wing, darted across the courtyard and disappeared under a clump of thickly matted bushes.
They could hear the dog running away through the woods in the opposite direction, and Trixie cried out, "Oh, oh! It’s hurt poor little Queenie. We must try to catch her and fix her wing."
She was out of the window and across the clearing in a second, tearing at the vines and branches which cut off her view of Queenie’s hiding place. Then she got down on her hands and knees and began crawling after the game hen. Sharp twigs scratched her face and pulled her curly blond hair, but she struggled on.
Jim was right behind her. "Let me go first, Trixie," he argued. "Queenie may fly in your face and scratch you badly."
At that moment, Trixie tripped and plunged forward, bumping her head against something hard. She scrambled quickly to a crouching position and, with Jim’s help, pulled at the overhanging boughs and vines until they could see the lower half of the doOr which was blocking their path.
"It's the summerhouse," Trixie cried excitedly. "We’ve found it at last!"
"I guess you’re right," Jim said, as together they tugged away at the heavy branches which covered the rest of the door. "And we’re in what once must have been a little arbor leading to it."
They tried the rustic door but it was locked, and the windows on either side were so thickly covered with dirt they couldn’t see inside. "The key!" Trixie suddenly shouted. "The brass key, Jim. I’ll bet it fits." But Jim was already crawling back through the arbor, and in a minute or two he reappeared, making the passageway larger so that Honey could follow him. Honey winced away from the vines and was sure every time she put her hand down on a stick it would turn into a snake, so Jim had the door open by the time she joined the others.
"I’m going in first," Jim told Trixie firmly as she started across the threshold. "I brought some matches. It’ll be safer if I investigate before you girls come in."
Trixie opened her mouth to argue, but even in that half-light she could see the stern, stubborn set to Jim’s jaw, and waited impatiently until he called out, "Okay. Nothing but spiders and a few old squirrels’ nests."
By the light of matches, they could see that the summerhouse was one long room with two large windows on each of the four sides.
"It’s more like a detached sun porch than a house," Trixie said. "But I imagine it was cool out
They were halfway across the clearing when Trixie heard a dog barking down in the road below the Mansion. "It doesn’t sound like Reddy or Bud," she said thoughtfully. "But there aren’t any other dogs around here."
"You girls had better get inside the house," Jim interrupted quietly as the barking came nearer and they could hear the animal running up the hill. "There is a strange dog around here. I saw it this morning, a vicious-looking mongrel." They climbed quickly in through the window. "I don’t know whether it’s the same one that got tangled in the vines yesterday or not," Jim said, picking up his gun. "But I’m not taking any chances. A stray dog that’s been running wild for a long time can become very ugly."
A Hew Hiding Place • 7
THE GIRLS CROWDED around Jim at the window. Suddenly, with a loud squawking, Queenie burst out of the woods and flew into the clearing. Right behind her was a thin, mean-looking cur whose yellowish coat was matted with burrs. It wore no collar, and its cruel mouth was flecked with foam. Jim raised his gun to his shoulder.
Trixie grabbed his arm. "Don’t shoot," she begged. "You might miss and hit Queenie."
At that moment, the plucky little game hen turned in midair and came down, clawing and scratching, on the mongrel’s nose. The dog skidded to a stop, struck out at Queenie with one paw, then, with its tail between its legs, slunk into the thicket. At the same moment, Queenie, squawking as though in pain, and dragging one wing, darted across the courtyard and disappeared under a clump of thickly matted bushes.
They could hear the dog running away through the woods in the opposite direction, and Trixie cried out, "Oh, oh! It’s hurt poor little Queenie. We must try to catch her and fix her wing."
She was out of the window and across the clearing in a second, tearing at the vines and branches which cut off her view of Queenie’s hiding place. Then she got down on her hands and knees and began crawling after the game hen. Sharp twigs scratched her face and pulled her curly blond hair, but she struggled on.
Jim was right behind her. "Let me go first, Trixie," he argued. "Queenie may fly in your face and scratch you badly."
At that moment, Trixie tripped and plunged forward, bumping her head against something hard. She scrambled quickly to a crouching position and, with Jim’s help, pulled at the overhanging boughs and vines until they could see the lower half of the doOr which was blocking their path.
"It's the summerhouse," Trixie cried excitedly. "We’ve found it at last!"
"I guess you’re right," Jim said, as together they tugged away at the heavy branches which covered the rest of the door. "And we’re in what once must have been a little arbor leading to it."
They tried the rustic door but it was locked, and the windows on either side were so thickly covered with dirt they couldn’t see inside. "The key!" Trixie suddenly shouted. "The brass key, Jim. I’ll bet it fits." But Jim was already crawling back through the arbor, and in a minute or two he reappeared, making the passageway larger so that Honey could follow him. Honey winced away from the vines and was sure every time she put her hand down on a stick it would turn into a snake, so Jim had the door open by the time she joined the others.
"I’m going in first," Jim told Trixie firmly as she started across the threshold. "I brought some matches. It’ll be safer if I investigate before you girls come in."
Trixie opened her mouth to argue, but even in that half-light she could see the stern, stubborn set to Jim’s jaw, and waited impatiently until he called out, "Okay. Nothing but spiders and a few old squirrels’ nests."
By the light of matches, they could see that the summerhouse was one long room with two large windows on each of the four sides.
"It’s more like a detached sun porch than a house," Trixie said. "But I imagine it was cool out
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