CHAPTER 4 THE SHIP HOUSE

NOW Connie was as worried as she could be, but she tried not to show it. She remembered that a Brownie Scout always must be calm in an emergency.

“We can’t really be lost,” she told the frightened Vevi. “Not as long as we stay on the main road.”

“We can turn the wrong direction though,” Vevi insisted. “If we do, we’ll be hours getting home.”

With the mist settling more closely about them, the girls stood for a moment trying to get their bearings.

In either direction, the road ahead was like a gray, dim tunnel.

“Listen!” commanded Vevi. “What was that?”

She had heard a strange, deep-throated sound which seemed to come from a long distance away.

“The fog horn out on the bay!” Connie exclaimed. “That means it’s really getting bad. Ships are being warned so they won’t run into the rocks along shore.”

The girls could not decide which direction to walk. Connie thought they should go one way, while Vevi was in favor of the other.

As they debated, Connie heard a car coming from far up the road.

“Oh, we can stop the driver and ask directions!” she exclaimed, greatly relieved. “Maybe too, we can catch a ride to Starfish Cottage.”

Soon the children caught a glimpse of headlights boring through the mist.

Stepping out into the roadway, Connie and Vevi shouted for the driver to stop. In the thick fog they scarcely could be seen. Their voices apparently did not carry.

Without glancing toward the girls, the driver of the car went on. A moment later the red taillight of his automobile had completely vanished.

Vevi and Connie were too discouraged to say a word. They stood at the roadside a moment, cold and miserable.

“Another car will come along in a minute,” Connie said at last.

Huddling together, the girls waited and waited. Finally, because they didn’t know what else to do, they started walking along the paved road. To find their way, they had to watch closely lest they wander off the pavement.

“Connie, I’m sure we didn’t come this way,” Vevi murmured after they had gone a short distance. “Didn’t we pass a house just before we turned off onto the dirt road?”

“I think so, Vevi. I’m not sure. We didn’t pay enough attention.”

The girls trudged over a little hill. Ahead, the fog seemed a trifle lighter. Instead of being dense and thick, it rolled in clouds.

“I think I see something over there to the right,” Vevi declared hopefully. “It looks like a house!”

Soft wisps of mist enfolded the shadowy building, giving it an eerie, almost ghostly appearance.

“It’s a house of some sort,” Connie admitted. “But I don’t see any light. It—it doesn’t look lived in, Vevi.”

“Let’s find out, Connie.”

Hand in hand, the girls left the pavement and stumbled up a gravel path. The fog was lighter and they could trace the outline of a low, rambling shingle and timber building.

“Why, it’s not a house at all!” Connie exclaimed.

“It’s a little ship! But how could a ship be here on dry land?”

Vevi squeezed her friend’s hand nervously. Through the mist the building had a most unreal appearance. Was her imagination playing tricks?

“Pinch me, Connie,” she whispered.

Connie obeyed, nipping Vevi’s arm so hard she squealed.

“It’s real, all right,” Vevi said, satisfied that she was wide awake.

Cautiously, the girls inched closer. Now they could see that the building really was a house. It had been built though, to resemble an old ship.

The windows were round like portholes. Just inside a picket fence stood a huge anchor, painted white. An old ship’s lantern dangled by the cottage door. Just above it was a battered sign.

Moving in close, the children were able to read the lettering on the carved piece of board. It said: “WELCOME.”

“Friendly people must live here,” declared Vevi, feeling less afraid.

Connie looked carefully about the yard. Weeds had grown very high and flower beds were untended.

“This old ship house looks deserted to me,” she said in awe. “Another thing—I’m sure we never came this way before, Vevi.”

“That’s so. We must have turned the wrong direction when we left the dirt road. What’ll we do?”

“Let’s knock,” Connie suggested. “Someone might live here, but I don’t think so.”

The front door was made of heavy wood and appeared to have been removed bodily from an old sea vessel. Door knob and hinges were of iron.

Raising her hand to knock, Connie made a startling discovery.

“Why, the door’s unlocked!” she exclaimed. “See, it’s partly open!”

Vevi saw that Connie was right. The door stood slightly ajar.

“Then someone must live here after all!” she cried.

Connie knocked twice and waited. The girls thought they heard a flurry of footsteps inside. But no one came to let them in.

“Try again, Connie.”

Once more Connie rapped on the door, this time so hard that it opened a trifle wider. But still no one came.

“Someone must live here,” Vevi reasoned. “Otherwise, the door wouldn’t be unlocked. Unless the place is owned by a ghost,” she added with a nervous giggle.

Connie rapped twice more. “It’s no use,” she said at last.

“But I’m sure I heard someone inside, Connie. Let’s peek in for a second.”

“I don’t think we should, Vevi.”

“Why not?” her companion argued. “The sign says ‘Welcome.’ That must mean we’re to walk right in if no one answers.”

“I hate to, Vevi.”

“Well, I’m going to do it,” Vevi announced boldly.

Before Connie could stop her, she gave the door a little push with her foot. It swung back with a loud, screeching sound.

“Just like on a radio serial,” Vevi giggled. “Come on! Who’s afraid? Not I!”

Connie followed her friend into the little ship house. In the front hallway, they stood very still, listening.

Not a whisper of sound disturbed the quiet. Yet Connie had a dreadful feeling that they were not alone in the house.

“Is—is anyone here?” she called.

Her voice sounded so strange and weak that she scarcely recognized it as her own.

“No one is home,” Vevi declared, looking around. “I don’t think anyone has lived here for a long, long while. Everything’s so dusty.”

“But it’s a darling place,” Connie said, becoming a trifle excited. “Just like a ship inside. Or a club house!”

The girls had tiptoed from the hallway to a main living room.

There were no rugs on the floor or curtains at the porthole windows. The furniture was all built into the walls. At one end of the long room there were two double-deck bunks.

“Someone must live here!” cried Connie. “At least that lower bunk has been slept in. See, the blanket is mussed!”

A desk had been built into the opposite wall. Connie went over to inspect it.

Almost at once she came upon a dusty old Bible. She turned slowly through the yellowing pages. Toward the back of the huge book, her exploring fingers encountered a photograph.

“It’s a picture of a young man,” she informed Vevi. “There’s writing on the back of it.”

Vevi quickly crossed the room to see what Connie had found. Taking the picture to the window where a little light filtered through, they were able to make out the writing. Connie read it aloud.

“Jerry R. Tarwell, 19, lost at sea, Dec. 25, 1934.”

“Why, that was on Christmas Day,” Vevi said, staring at the picture. “He’s nice looking.”

“This old Bible hasn’t been opened in a long while,” Connie added, brushing dust from her hands. “It’s queer.”

“What is, Connie?”

“Why everything. This ship house. The open door. This picture. This bunk that’s been slept in.”

“That part is the queerest of all, Connie. This house looks deserted, and yet someone appears to be living here. You don’t suppose—”

“A ghost?” Connie interposed with a quick laugh. “Don’t be silly, Vevi. You know there aren’t any such things.”

“I know, but I was sure I heard footsteps—”

Vevi broke off, listening hard.

“What was that?” she whispered.

“I—I didn’t hear anything. Yet, I do too!”

Distinctly, both girls could hear a tiptoeing sound. They were certain someone was moving about in the adjoining room.

“I’m scared,” Vevi whispered. “Let’s get out of here!”

Connie nodded. Clinging together, she and Vevi started toward the hallway.

The corridor connected with another room, apparently a kitchen. But the girls had no desire to explore further. Their one thought was to leave this strange old house and be on their way.

As they reached the doorway opening into the hall, they stopped short.

At the outside door they saw the flash of clothing. A boy in blue jeans and a rough, cloth jacket turned toward them in a fleeting instant. He uttered a choked cry as if sharing their fright.

Then, he darted through the door and was gone.

“Wait!” Connie called impulsively. “Don’t run away!”

“We want to find out how to get to Starfish Cottage!” Vevi shouted. “Wait!”

But the boy did not turn back. Leaving the door wide open, he fled into the fog and quickly was swallowed by the gray mist.