Ghost Beyond the Gate by Mildred A. Wirt

Author:Mildred A. Wirt
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Tags: Parker, Penny (Fictitious character) -- Juvenile fiction, Ghost stories, Mystery fiction, Adventure stories, Women detectives -- Juvenile fiction, Mystery and detective stories
Published: 2010-11-22T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

15

GHOST IN THE GARDEN

The three investigators moved stealthily along the high fence. Through the iron palings they could see a white-garbed figure walking with measured tread amid the shrubs of the frozen garden. Back and forth the apparition strolled, following a well-trod path between the shrunken snowdrifts.

Penny, Mrs. Weems, and the taxi driver crept closer. The ghostly one did not note their approach. Hooded head bent low, he glided to the gate, testing chain and padlock.

“Poor restless soul!” whispered Mrs. Weems.

Penny gave the housekeeper a tiny pinch to break the spell which had fallen upon her. “That’s no ghost,” she whispered. “Don’t you see! It’s a man wearing a heavy white bathrobe over his clothing. He’s pulled the wide collar up over his head like a hood!”

“It’s a man all right,” added the taxi driver. “You can tell by the way he walks. Ghosts kinda slither, don’t they?”

“I believe it’s someone imprisoned on the grounds!” Penny whispered tensely. “Watch!”

The ghost, his face shadowed, rattled the chain again. Then with a distinct, audible sigh, he turned and tramped back along the fence away from the gate.

“Aw, that spook could get out if he wanted to,” muttered the taxi driver. “Why don’t he climb over the fence?”

“Perhaps the man is a sleep walker,” suggested Mrs. Weems nervously. “Whoever he is, the poor fellow should be in his bed.”

Penny was determined to learn the identity of the man. Moving to the gate, she called softly. The figure in white whirled around, looking straight toward her.

Penny caught a fleeting impression of a lean, startled face. Then the man turned and fled toward the house. No longer could there be any doubt that he was a man, for as he ran the legs of his woolen pajamas showed beneath the white robe.

“Wait!” Penny called. “Please wait!”

The ghostly one hesitated, and glanced over his shoulder. But the next moment he was gone, having vanished through a side door into the house.

Penny, weak from excitement, clung to the gate. “Mrs. Weems!” she cried. “Did you see him?”

“Yes, you frightened him away when you shouted.”

“But didn’t you notice his face? As he turned toward me, I caught a glimpse of it. Mrs. Weems, the man looked like Dad!”

“Oh, Penny,” the housekeeper murmured, taking her arm, “you can’t be right. How could it be your father?”

“It looked like him.”

“Not to me,” said Mrs. Weems firmly. “Why, if it had been Mr. Parker, he would have answered when you called. He wouldn’t have run away.”

Penny was compelled to acknowledge the logic of the housekeeper’s reasoning. “I guess that’s true,” she said reluctantly. “I’ll admit I didn’t see his face plainly. I wanted it to be Dad so badly I may have imagined the resemblance.”

A light was switched on in an upstairs room of the estate house. However, blinds were lowered, and those on the ground did not obtain another glimpse of the mysterious man who haunted the snowy garden. Finally Mrs. Weems induced Penny to return to the taxi.

Speeding toward Riverview, neither of them had much to say.

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