“They don’t,” I said. “That day on the roof we didn’t see a single one. Michael said there was a better road the other side of the hill.”
“But look at those tracks there in the dust,” Eve said. “It looks as if two or three cars had been out here recently.”
Hattie May was on her feet in a flash. “You’re dead right!” she cried. “A car has turned around right in front of this house—see the double tracks!”
She was right. There were marks of tires going in both directions clearly discernible in the dry dust of the road.
“Maybe Hamish came out here!” Hattie May cried. “Maybe he went inside the house and—and—” she cast terrified eyes beyond the wall.
“Hush, Hattie May, don’t be ridiculous. There aren’t any such things as ghosts as you very well know. Besides,” I added illogically, “no one ever heard of one’s harming a person.”
“But people die of fright,” Hattie May went on wildly. “Or—or they fall in a swoon. I’m sure I should if I saw one and Hamish is a year younger than me. Oh, Eve, would you dare to—to just go up to the house and—listen?”
“Of course I would,” Eve assured her. “What is there to be afraid of? I’d go inside only the door is locked of course. But honestly, I don’t believe those tracks mean a thing—somebody just drove up, discovered he was on the wrong road and turned around, that’s all.”
But Hattie May shook her head. “No. I feel that something has happened,” she declared solemnly. “I’m as sure as anything that those marks were made by Hamish’s car. And,” she flung up her head with a heroic gesture, “it’s my duty not to leave this place till I’ve found out—found out what there is to know!”