"Now here's where we begin the great Sherlock Holmes act!" announced Chet, gaily. "The house is just beyond the edge of the woods. You sit here tight, Ted, an' don't you budge unless you hear this whistle or see us come runnin' back. Then you have the engine ready to beat it like blazes. You understand, don't you?"
Ted, still inarticulate, nodded vigorously.
"Now, come along, miss, if you're ready," went on Chet, "an' we'll scout around the edge of the woods nearest to the house for a spell an' see what's doin'."
Leaving Delia in the car, somewhat mystified, but still unquestioningly happy, Patricia, with pounding heart, followed his lead and, Indian file, they plowed their way through the deep underbrush and tangled vines till they stood at the edge of the clearing, protected from sight only by some overhanging boughs. Beyond them stretched the expanse of a couple of hundred feet of grass. It had once, doubtless, been only a rough meadow, but was now converted into a smooth, well-kept lawn running to the very steps of the porch where Chet had hidden the night before. The house was of the old-fashioned "salt-box" type, with long, sloping roof running to within a few feet of the ground at the back. It had been renovated and painted, with the addition of a wide, screened veranda on one side. But its distinctive feature was the shutters, doubtless the old original ones, of solid wood with little crescents cut in them near the top, and painted a bright green.
There was no one about, not a sign of a living creature, though all the windows were open, their pretty draperies swaying in the morning breeze.
"What had we better do?" questioned Patricia. "We mustn't go any nearer the house."
"No, we must sit tight right here and watch what goes on for a while," agreed Chet. "What I'm trying to do is to see, by who goes in or out of the place, whose around, an' what chance we have of passin' the glad word to the little mam'selle."
They sat in almost absolute silence for nearly half an hour and nothing happened at all. No one went either in or out, no face appeared at a window, nor door was opened or shut.
"I believe it's deserted," whispered Patricia, impatiently. "I'm sure they've all gone away."
"Don't you believe it!" retorted Chet. "They ain't such geese as to all go off an' leave the house open like that. But if somethin' don't happen purty quick, I'm goin' to beat it around to the back an' see the lay of the land there."