“My dear, my dear! Surely no fair-minded girl could have so misunderstood me, even admitting that I did say that—which I fail to remember. As to that silly notion about the ‘haunting’ business, Betty Calvert’s niece should be able to laugh at that. Absurd, absurd! Now tell me again what your fancy is about this Hallowe’en Party.”
“Why, sir, things can’t be done without folks do them, can they?”
“That’s a poser; but I’ll grant your premises. Proceed with the argument,” answered the old gentleman, merrily.
“Well, I thought, somehow, that if everybody was allowed to dress in character and wear some sort of a mask, the one who had played such pranks and frightened Grace and the maids might be found out. If anybody in this house owns such a mask as that horrid one and is mean enough to scare little girls, he or she wouldn’t lose so good a chance of scaring a lot more. Don’t you think so? And—and—there’s something else I ought to tell, but am afraid. Miss Muriel gets so stern every time the thing is mentioned that I put it off and off. I can tell you though, if you wish.”
“Certainly, I wish you would.”
The gentleman’s face had grown as serious now, and almost as stern, as the Lady Principal’s at similar times; and Dorothy gave a sigh to bolster her own courage as she gravely announced:
“When I took out my white shoes to wear them last evening, there was a skull and cross-bones on each one, done with red paint: and the tube of vermilion had been taken from my own oil color box. Now—what do you think of that?”
Her listener pursed his lips in a silent whistle, which indicated great amazement in a man like him, but he said nothing. Only, for a moment he drew the girl to him and looked searchingly into her brown eyes. But they looked back at him with a clear, straightforward gaze that pleased him and made him exclaim:
“Well, little Betty—whom you always seem to me—we’re in a scrape worthy of old Bellevieu. We’ve got to get out of it, somehow. You try your scheme of playing masked detective first. If you fail in proving our innocence and some other youngster’s roguery, I’ll tackle the matter myself. For this nonsense is hurtful to Oak Knowe. That I am compelled to admit. ‘Behold how great a matter a little fire kindleth.’ A miserable rumor started has wide-spread effect. I could preach you a sermon on that topic, but I won’t. Run along back to your mates and try it. Just whisper ‘Hallowe’en Party’ to any one of them and see if every girl at Oak Knowe doesn’t know beforehand that after chapel, to-night, the Lady Principal will announce this intended event. Now, good day, my dear ‘Betty,’ and for the present, to oblige me, just put those decorated shoes out of sight.”