“If you folks haven’t anything else to do,” he said to Arden and Dorothy when Terry had been put to bed, with Sim (whose headache was better) to sit beside her, “why, we’d be glad to have you over at the Bayley Corners Sunday-school entertainment—me playing the part of Santa Claus after my rehearsals,” he chuckled.
“Thank you,” murmured Arden, trying to be cheerful about it.
Dr. Ramsdell gave it as his opinion that Terry’s ankle wasn’t as bad as she feared. It was strained, not sprained, and bound to be painful, but a day or two of rest would make it all right, the physician said, and she could get around, though she might want to use a cane for a while.
“You can still go ghost-hunting,” said Arden, when they were all gathered in Terry’s room to commiserate with her.
“I’m getting sort of fed up with it,” Terry said. “I believe it will all turn out as this ghost of Patience Howe did—in a Santa Claus outfit.”
“Well, if we could play Santa Claus to Granny Howe,” suggested Arden, “and find some way to do something so she could get the money for this property that has been taken by the state for Jockey Hollow Park, it would be the best Christmas gift we could give her, I’m sure of that.”
“And it would help Dick to his college education and Betty to realize her ambition to become an interior decorator,” added Sim.
“But I suppose it is too much to hope for,” sighed Arden. “I imagine we shall have to be content if we can find the troublesome old ghost.”
“Or even if Harry Pangborn finds it,” said Terry.
“Oh, yes, we saw him in the Hall,” Arden exclaimed. “We forgot to tell you. There are no workmen tearing the place down now and Harry had it to himself.”