A Weird Sight

NANCY'S heart leaped with excitement. Had she found the person for whom her father was searching?

The woman raised her eyes, flushing slightly as she became aware of Nancy's stare.

"I don't mean to be rude," the young detective said, "but I couldn't help admiring your beautiful compact. I've never seen one like it."

The stranger graciously handed it to Nancy for closer inspection. With trembling fingers the young detective unfastened the catch. Would the case contain the picture of a child?

With mingled feelings of relief and disappoint ment, Nancy saw that the inside of the cover held only a mirror. After a few admiring comments, she returned the case, and asked the woman if she were a guest at the hotel.

"No, I'm not," the other admitted. "I came to have lunch with a friend. Are you spending your vacation here?"

Nancy shook her head. "I'm staying at Deer Mountain Hotel."

"Lovely place," the young woman remarked. She paused as she powdered her face, then went on, "I formerly lived only a short distance from there. My home was destroyed by fire."

Before Nancy could inquire about the exact location of the house or the stranger's name, the woman arose. After replacing the compact in her bag, she left the room.

Nancy was tempted to follow her, but could think of no pretext for reopening the conversation. She returned to the car and found her father waiting for her.

"You're late, Nancy. We won't have time to visit another hotel. I must get back to Deer Mountain for an important interview."

"I'm sorry I took so long, Dad. I thought I had located the woman you're looking for."

Nancy gave a detailed description of the jeweled compact which had attracted her attention and related the conversation with the young woman.

"Every clue is worth investigating," Mr. Drew a.s.sured Nancy, "and it's possible this woman may not be so innocent as she seems."

At Deer Mountain Hotel father and daughter had a quick lunch in the grill, then parted. Nancy found her friends resting in their room after several hours of vigorous exercise playing tennis.

"You were gone such a long while we began to wonder what had happened to you," George said as Nancy threw herself down into an overstuffed chair. "Tired?"

"Oh, a little, and my hand is hurting me again."

"Golf scores have been coming in all day," Bess reported, "but the last we heard you were still in the upper group."

"There seems to be a lot of gossip in the hotel about your friend Barty," George remarked. "One of the golf players, the former state champ, practically accused him of cheating."

Bess put in teasingly, "While you were away, Nancy, he telephoned twice. We told him you'd be back about two o'clock."

Nancy sighed. "It's after that now so he'll probably be calling again. I don't want to talk to him. Let's go for a walk to the woods near the sixteenth fairway. I'd like to visit the haunted bridge."

At once Bess objected. "Oh, we shouldn't go there alone," she murmured nervously.

"Now don't be silly," George chided her cousin. "You know very well there are no ghosts. It's only a story, of course."

"Stories seldom originate out of nothing," Bess retorted quickly. "I know we'll get into trouble."

Nancy and George promised they would be careful. Reluctantly Bess followed them out of the room. By the time the girls reached the woods Bess began to lose her fear and to share their zest for the adventure.

"The bridge is down by the ravine, remember," Nancy said.

"I can see something white among the trees," George replied.

"Maybe it's the ghost!" Bess exclaimed.

Nancy and George pushed on through the dense tangle of underbrush, with Bess bringing up the rear. They were close enough now to see the footbridge. It was old and in need of repairs.

Nancy, who was in the lead, halted abruptly. Through the trees she could see something white flapping. The next moment a moaning and a weird groaning filled the air.

Bess gasped in horror. "The bridge is haunted!" she cried. "You can see the ghost waving its arms! Nancy, let's get out of here!"

"Nonsense," said George. "It's probably only a piece of white cloth fluttering in the wind."

"It might be," Bess admitted, "but did you ever hear a piece of cloth moan and groan?"

Nancy started to reply but the words died in her throat.

From somewhere up the ravine to their left came a fearful cry that rose to a screeching crescendo, then faded away with a tremulous wail.

"What was that?" whispered Bess.

"Maybe some kind of wild animal," replied George uneasily.

"Perhaps," Nancy said doubtfully. "But what could it be? I don't think there's anything larger than deer in these woods."

For several minutes the three girls huddled together, listening for the weird sound to be repeated. Through the screen of trees they could still see the white, ghostlike object moving its arms slowly to and fro.

"Come on," Nancy urged. "We'll approach quietly and see if we can surprise the ghost."

Bess pleaded with her companions to give up the adventure, but they paid no attention.

Nancy, who was ahead of the others, moved stealthily forward through the woods, taking care not to step on twigs nor to make any sound which would betray her presence. Suddenly she halted and began to laugh.

"Girls, Chris's so-called ghost is nothing but an old scarecrow!"

Moving slightly aside, Nancy pointed toward the bridge directly below. The girls were now close enough to see a tall, tattered white figure flapping in the breeze.

"That was a good joke on us!" George grinned.

No longer afraid, they hastened down into the ravine to examine the scarecrow. It had been set up at the entrance to the narrow, rustic footbridge that spanned a creek. Evidently the figure had been standing there for many months, because the white clothing was grimy and torn, and straw stuffing protruded from the shirt.

"The scarecrow is so wobbly," said George, "that the slightest breeze, or any vibration of the bridge causes it to move."

"Seeing the movement from a distance, I suppose the caddies imagined the figure was crossing the bridge," Nancy added.