“What man?” asked Mr. Hampton.
The others at the table looked blank.
“Why, the chap who bought the old Brownell house and property. You know the place. There are about 750 acres of land, mainly timber. This inlet, Starfish Cove as the boys call it, is on the property. And there is an old house back in the trees. It is isolated, there is no habitation near, and the house has a bad name to boot. Some of the old-timers in the settlement at the crossroads declare the place is haunted.”
“So that is part of the Brownell property?” asked Mr. Hampton.
The boys looked at each other. Della surreptitiously squeezed Frank’s hand beneath the table. This promised to be interesting. The Brownell place was one of the delightful bugaboos of their childhood. Old Captain Brownell, a Yankee whaling skipper, was long since dead. The house had stood boarded up and untenanted for years. Tradition declared he had committed acts of piracy on the high 27 seas during the period of his whaling voyages and that, having retired uncaught, he had come down to this secluded nook and built the great house in order to hide there from some of his old associates whom he had cheated, but that they had found and slain him. It was his ghost, it was said in the countryside, which haunted the place.
“Yes,” replied Mr. Temple, in answer to Mr. Hampton’s question. “Starfish Cove and all that land around there, where Bob found this secret radio plant located, is part of the Brownell property.”
“And who is this man who bought it?” asked Bob, putting the question in all minds.
“I don’t even know his name,” confessed Mr. Temple. “But what I do recall are some things told me by McKay, a real estate dealer in the city who had the Brownell property on his list for a long time. He said this chap who bought the place impressed him as a man who only recently had come into the possession of money, and he wondered what he wanted with the Brownell property. The newly-rich man usually wants to make a splurge, he doesn’t want to buy a country home away off somewhere, in an out of the way nook, where people can’t see him. He wants to be seen.
“This man, on the contrary, apparently wanted seclusion—and he wanted a place in a secluded spot 28 on the seacoast. That was his impressing requirement. So McKay sold him the Brownell place.
“Afterward, said McKay, he learned the new owner had put up signs all around the property, warning away trespassers. McKay said he even understood guards were to be employed to keep out intruders.”