SCARCELY knowing what to expect, Judy and Kathleen entered Calico Cottage. Everything appeared quite normal, except that a chair in the kitchen had been overturned.

“I upset it myself,” Miss Meadows explained. “I—I was rather excited, I’m afraid.”

“Tell us what happened, Aunt Mattie,” Judy urged. “What disturbed you?”

“It was a dreadful sound from the basement. A sort of moan as if someone were in pain. And then to top it, there came a series of loud thumps, very much like muffled thunder.”

“That couldn’t have been someone setting off dynamite at a distance?” Kathleen suggested. “I know the rangers were blasting trees in the park area.”

“This sound came from the cellar,” Miss Meadows insisted.

“How long ago, Aunt Mattie?” questioned Judy.

“About ten minutes, I’d judge.”

“Did you go down there to check?”

“To the cellar?” Miss Meadows demanded. “I most assuredly did not!” “Then I guess the job is up to us,” Judy said, looking directly at Kathleen. “Where’s that key?”

“I don’t think you should go down into that dreary hole,” Miss Meadows protested.

“Nonsense, Aunt Mattie! We investigated once before, and everything was all right. You’ve not had the door unlocked since?”

“Absolutely, not. I’ve been here at the cottage all the while too.”

“Then no one could be down there.”

“I didn’t imagine those weird sounds,” Miss Meadows said. “If you had been here—”

Suddenly she stiffened. From beneath the kitchen floor there issued forth a series of muffled thuds.

“Hear it?” Miss Meadows whispered, staring fixedly at the locked cellar door.

The sound ceased and the cottage was as quiet as before. Judy and Kathleen stood transfixed, dreading to take the action which they felt they must.

“Where’s that key?” Judy finally murmured, groping for it on the high kitchen shelf.

“Don’t go down there,” Miss Meadows advised nervously. “It might be dangerous.”

“It’s worse not to investigate,” Judy insisted. “You can’t stay here and live in constant dread.”

Her fingers closed upon the key. She unlocked the door, but hesitated as she peered down the dark stairway. “Do you have a flashlight?” she asked Kathleen, who huddled at her elbow.

“In my knapsack,” Kathleen replied. “But I left it on the station wagon, never thinking I’d want it here.”

“There are candles on the shelf,” Miss Meadows remembered. “I’ll get one, if you insist on going down there. I’d rather just move out of this place though!”

“I don’t know where you’ll find another cottage on short notice,” Judy told her regretfully. “Everything around here has been taken.”

“I can go to a hotel.”

“The closest one is eighteen miles away. Aunt Mattie, I don’t like to urge you to stay, but there must be a logical explanation for these strange noises. I mean to find it too! Let me have one of those candles.”

Miss Meadows found it for her, and lighted the wick.

“Watch the drip of the wax,” she advised, “or you’ll burn your hand.”

The glowing candle made a flickering, ghostly circle of light on the rough walls of the stairway.

Resolutely, Judy started down. Close behind her came Kathleen, while Miss Meadows unwillingly brought up the rear.

Judy descended a half dozen steps, only to pause. A slight breath of air caused the candle to waver and nearly go out. And at the same moment, she caught an unpleasant odor which seemed to rise from the darkness below.

“Mercy!” gasped Miss Meadows, as she too sniffed the air.

The musty scent became stronger as the three went on down. Judy localized it in the main cellar room, toward the south east wall.

However, in slowly moving the candle about, she could find no cause for the unpleasant odor.

“It’s such a strange smell,” Kathleen commented with a nervous shiver. “A sort of stale air scent. But from where does it come?”

Judy asked Kathleen to hold the candle. Carefully, she ran her hand over the brick wall, feeling along the line of crumbling mortar.

“There’s an opening here!” she suddenly exclaimed. “I can feel cool air coming in!”

Excited by Judy’s discovery, Kathleen held the candle higher.

As she raised it in line with the brick which Judy’s exploring hand had found, a direct current of air extinguished the flame.

The three were left in total darkness.

“I’ll get some matches,” Miss Meadows said eager to be out of the basement. “But is there any need to explore further? Haven’t we discovered everything there is to learn?”

“Not quite everything,” said Judy. “We’ve learned where that musty odor comes from though. It is being blasted in through the broken mortar.”

“How strange,” Kathleen murmured. “Shouldn’t there be solid dirt or rock behind these walls and under the floor?”

“One would think so,” Judy agreed thoughtfully, “unless—”

“There might be a tunnel connected with the cottage!” Kathleen speculated.

“A tunnel, possibly tied up with Calico Cave,” Judy carried on the thought. “Even so, that doesn’t explain those strange banging noises.”

Leaving the girls alone in the cellar, Miss Meadows went quickly for matches. She returned promptly and the candle was relighted.

This time, Judy was careful to shield it with her hand so that it would not be blown out.

In the uncertain light, the three were able to see a faint, rectangular outline on the wall, which marked a division between old and newer bricks.

“At one time, there must have been an opening here!” Judy asserted, elated by her discovery. “A long while ago, apparently, the passageway or whatever it is, was bricked over. Now that the mortar is falling away, cold air filters in.”

“From where?” Kathleen demanded.

“That’s what we’ll have to learn, if we can. I have a hunch Captain Hager might be able to supply interesting information.” “I’ll bet he could at that!” cried Kathleen. “Since he lived in the old house so many years, he must have known about this bricked up place on the wall. In fact, he may have closed it himself.”

“The captain hinted that Mr. Krumm made a bad mistake in building the cottage on the old foundation,” Judy recalled. “I’m sure he knows a lot about this place that he hasn’t told!”

“Say, wouldn’t it be great if we could solve the mystery before we leave Pine Cone Camp? You’d win a rental bonus too from Mr. Krumm, Judy!”

“I don’t care about that part, but it would be fun to hit upon an explanation for everything that’s happened here. The thing that puzzles me most is that boy with the flute—”

“Boy with a flute?” Miss Meadow interposed, her voice rising.

Judy regretted her slip of tongue. Nevertheless, having made the mistake, she could do no less than tell her aunt about the strange musical notes which had startled the Scouts during the night they had spent at the cottage.

“What manner of place have I rented?” Miss Meadows gasped. “Is the cottage haunted?”

“By the spirit of the White Witch,” Judy said with a giggle. Then, becoming sober, she added: “I’m sure there’s no danger here, Aunt Mattie. Even so, you mustn’t stay another night. Come with us to Pine Cone Camp. We’ll find a bed for you, and tomorrow we can start looking for another cottage.” “And have everyone say I was frightened away?” Miss Meadows reproved her niece. “The very idea!”

“You mean you’re willing to stay?”

“Yes, I intend to,” Miss Meadows announced firmly. “At least for a day or so.”

“I’ll remain with you,” Judy offered. “Not that I’ll be any protection.”

To her surprise, Miss Meadows turned her aside. “No,” she told Judy, “you’ve already lost a great deal of camp fun on my account. You’re not to worry about me any more, or Calico Cottage.”

“But to leave you alone—”

“I’ll manage,” Miss Meadows said dryly. “Let’s go upstairs now, or you girls will miss your station wagon.”

“Goodness, I forgot about the driver calling for us!” Kathleen exclaimed. “We’ve been down here in the cellar quite a while.”

Hastily, the three ascended to the main floor of the cottage. Miss Meadows locked the cellar door and replaced the key on the cupboard shelf.

“I intend to forget about those stupid noises,” she asserted. “It will take a very powerful ghost indeed to dislodge me from my bed tonight.”

Greatly relieved that her aunt was taking such a matter-of-fact view of an unpleasant situation, Judy said no more about the disturbances. She and Kathleen began to watch for the camp station wagon, and ten minutes later, saw its headlights wink in signal from the main road. “Goodbye, Aunt Mattie,” Judy said, giving her a hasty peck on the cheek. “If anything should go wrong tonight, you’ll call me at Pine Cone Camp?”

“I’ll call the police,” Miss Meadows threatened. “Now run along, and enjoy yourselves.”

Enroute back to camp, Judy and Kathleen did not report their experience at Calico Cottage. During the drive up the mountain, they were somewhat silent, but the others took it for granted that the two girls were worn out from the day’s hike.

In truth, Judy was very tired. Even before the “lights out” signal, she was snug in her cot, with the warm blankets tucked around her ears.

“I feel as if I could sleep until noon tomorrow,” she murmured drowsily. “Is there any law, I wonder, about skipping breakfast, and staying in bed?”

If there was an answer to her question, Judy did not hear it. She fell into a sound slumber, lulled by the chirp of crickets.

Sometime toward morning, Judy began to dream. A confusion of images flitted through her mind. She thought she was exploring a cave, that the White Witch had come alive and was advancing toward her in a menacing manner.

In her dream, she became aware of a horrible odor. The scent enveloped her, stifling her so that she could not breathe.

Awakening, Judy found herself battling the blankets which she had pulled up over her head. She laughed in relief. The White Witch was only a nightmare! There was no disagreeable odor—or was there?

Thrusting the covers aside, Judy sat up in bed. Fearfully, she sniffed the air. The odor had not been entirely in her dream! The air was chilly, filled with an acrid scent she could not identify immediately.

Then suddenly, Judy knew. She bolted out of bed, the cold chills racing down her spine. The tent was filled with smoke! The camp must be afire!