“In Sycamore Hall?” Arden was surprised.
“No, not in the Hall, but in a little house near it. With my grandmother and sister. The Hall is soon going to be torn down to make way for a new road through this section. Jockey Hollow is going to be made into a national park on account of it being connected in many ways with the Revolution.”
“Oh, it is?” asked Arden, interested. This was news. But the truth of the matter was that though she and her chums knew, in a vague way, about Jockey Hollow, they had been, of late, so wrapped up in college life at Cedar Ridge, they had lost track of local matters.
Arden, suddenly occupied with guiding her horse, which evinced a desire to shy, did not pursue the subject with Dick. Through the trees she now caught a glimpse of the two-hundred-year-old mansion known as Sycamore Hall. There were many stories about it, one or two concerned with the more or less established fact that it still contained certain objects supposed to belong to the descendants of the original owners, whoever they were. No one now lived in the Hall, nor had it housed anyone for some time. In spite of its age, the old mansion, though woefully lacking paint, was well preserved. It was as strong and sturdy as some ancient oak tree.
Sim and Terry, in the lead, had approached Sycamore Hall and were waiting for Arden and Dick to reach them. The two girls gazed, not without interest, at the deserted mansion. There were evidences about it of some new and strange life. There were dump carts, but no horses, some piles of boards, and, near the drive, an old flivver that seemed impossible of being used.
From within the ancient mansion came dull blows, as of pounding, and out of some open windows floated a fine dust, like smoke.
“Is the place on fire?” asked Arden as she and Dick spurred their horses forward.
“No. But I guess they’ve already started to tear it down. A new road is going right through the old place.” Dick seemed to sigh a little.
“What a shame,” murmured Arden. “It’s too bad such a historic place can’t be preserved.”
“I guess it’s too old to preserve,” Dick said. “Though they are going to make a park of the Hollow and save some of the smaller houses that were used by Washington or Mad Anthony Wayne or some of the Revolutionary folks.”