“No—not at first,” replied Mrs. McCreedy. “I heard her unbolt the back door—you see, she had locked it after all, just as I suspected. A minute later I heard her bolt it again, and first thing you know, I was off in a doze again.”
“But if she locked the door again, how did she get out of the house?” demanded Ethel. “Did somebody drag her through a window?”
“That’s just what I can’t tell you!” replied Mrs. McCreedy. “When I wakened up again—it must have been about half an hour later, judging from when I got here—and I missed her, I got up and searched the house. Both doors was locked and bolted on the inside, and all the screens was still hooked in the windows—from the inside. But Anna had entirely disappeared!”
“It’s the ghost! I told you so!” whispered Marie Louise, her face as white as the table cloth.
“Maybe she fell down the cellar,” suggested Marjorie, unwilling to accept the supernatural theory.
“I thought of that,” said Mrs. McCreedy, “because the door was open—I think one of the boys went down cellar for a joke, during the party, and forgot to close the door. So I took a candle and went down—not that I enjoyed doing it much, but I didn’t want to leave Anna there unconscious if she fell down—but there wasn’t a sign of her!”
“And evidently the police didn’t find her, from the message they gave over the telephone,” said Florence.
“You left the door open when you came out?” asked Marjorie. “So that the police surely got in?”
“You bet I did!” replied the older woman. “The minute I was certain Anna was gone, I knew there was something queer about the house, and I opened the door and ran as fast as I could. It never entered my head to shut it!”
The girls were all trembling as they listened to the conclusion, and Daisy and Marie Louise were sobbing. Marjorie, on the other hand, was eager for action.