“It seemed so,” his father nodded. “There was one letter from Canada, telling his aunt not to worry, that he was being well treated. But no trace of him has ever been discovered, and some splendid detectives have been looking for Felix Morganson. Well, since the time that he disappeared, things haven’t been going well at Bluff Lodge.”
“Is that when the haunting began?” Barry asked.
“A little later than that. You see, Felix Morganson disappeared during a Thanksgiving party at the lodge. There was quite a crowd at the lodge, and they were enjoying a gathering at the time. Along about ten o’clock or so at night Mr. Morganson walked out of the place smoking a cigarette. Several saw him go, but no one asked him where or why he was going. As time went on they missed him, and finally some of the men walked out on the bluff which overlooks the lake, following his footsteps in the light snow that had fallen. Close to the edge of the bluff they found the snow kicked and scuffed up and his cigarette only partially smoked. Then there were long, dragging marks in the snow that seemed to indicate that he had been pulled along down the path to the lake. All trace of him was lost at that point, because the lake was frozen over and the ice was as smooth as glass.”
Barry was absorbed in the story. “No one in the lodge heard anything? No outcry or anything?”
His father shook his head. “No. But that same night a servant, a Frenchman, disappeared. He was a man that had been hired to cook and to wait on the tables, and this man was gone. No one knows whether he had anything to do with it all or not, but he left the lodge about the same time Felix Morganson did. No trace of him was ever found.”
“How long after the disappearance of Mr. Morganson before they heard from him?”
“About a month later. Then a hastily scrawled letter came from a little town in Canada, telling his aunt that he was well and not to worry. He stated that he did not have time to write any more at the moment. Of course the detectives hustled up to that town, but so far have been unable to learn anything or to uncover a single clue.”
“He has been missing well over a year now, hasn’t he?” Barry mused.
“Yes, because Thanksgiving was three weeks ago, and it was at that time that he vanished. The queer part about it all is the fact that no request for a ransom was ever received. Mrs. Morganson is quite wealthy, and a considerable sum could be raised among the friends of Felix. But there has never been any demand.”
“It’s funny.” Barry slumped lower in the chair, his mind busy with the details of the event. “But how about this haunting that you spoke of? That came later, didn’t it?”