  Barry and Kent surveyed the grinning Ford boys for a moment in silence, “the wind taken right out of their sails,” as Kent said afterwards. Then Barry grunted. “Where’d you fellows hear about that lodge?” he demanded. “That won’t be much trouble to answer,” Kent declared, before either of the boys could speak. “They have been to your house, and Pearl told Mac. Whatever you tell one of them, you tell the other.” Mac’s only answer to the charge was a bland grin which admitted nothing, but Barry knew that Kent was right. His sister Pearl was an avowed friend of Mac’s, and the school chatter always linked their names together. “I might have known it,” Barry said. “Well, as far as that goes, it wasn’t any secret from you fellows, but it mustn’t get all over town. I’ll warn Pearl to keep it quiet. I suppose you’ll want to go along.” “Do we!” cried Tim. “Try and leave us home!” “What do you think about skating up Buffalo River to the lake?” Kent asked. “Good idea,” Mac approved. “There are a couple of places where we’ll have to leave the ice and hike.” “I know that,” Barry acknowledged. “But we can skate most of the way. How much of the story did Pearl tell you?” They stood under the street light in a group, and the Ford boys told what they had learned. Pearl knew most of the events that had taken place at Bluff Lodge, and with only a few details Barry completed the story. All the boys were now more eager than ever before to go. “Let’s keep the mystery part a secret,” Kent urged. “We’ll simply give out the information that we are going on a Christmas-vacation camping trip. That is partly true and is as much as anyone else needs to know.” “Do you think we’ll run afoul of Wolf and his bunch?” Tim asked. “I hardly think so,” was Barry’s reply. “We won’t let them worry us if we do see them. Well, I want to get on home and do a little studying. Are you twins through with yours?” It developed that the twins had simply gone out for a walk after their evening meal and had dropped in first at Kent’s and then at Barry’s home. It was the custom of the four boys to stroll some after supper and then buckle down to their studies. They all made fair grades in school, and Kent was the outstanding one among them. “Are you fellows going to win that soccer game against Berkley?” Kent asked the Fords, as they lingered for a moment in front of Barry’s door. His question immediately plunged them into a discussion concerning the soccer game, now only two days off. Tim and Mac were on the team, but Kent and Barry had cast in their lots with the gymnasium group. They finally separated, somewhat reluctant to split up, as they were devoted friends, and the study table was less to be desired than their companionship. But as Mac expressed it, “all good things have to come to an end, even a plate of ice cream!” and with that the soccer players started off on a sprint around the corner, while Barry and Kent went to their front doors with less forceful energy. Two days later Cloverfield went to Berkley to play soccer. The team had gone down earlier in the day in a big bus, and the rooters followed in cars and on the train. Barry and Kent decided to go by rail, as it was a short trip and not too expensive, so they caught the proper train and were soon in the small town and on their way to the athletic field. The game was a stirring one, and the two boys in the stand were gripped by it. The two teams battled up and down the field fiercely, driving the ball forward and being hurled back. It became so exciting that Barry and Kent left the stand and followed the teams from one end of the field to the other. “Too doggone cold to sit in the stand today, anyway,” Barry said. Both teams were battling for a secure position in the school conference, and victory today meant something. The boys who had run out on the field in the short trousers and thin, sleeveless jerseys were now warm and glowing with the swift running and kicking and blocking. It seemed as though it must end in a scoreless tie. Mac and Tim had been battling to the limit. Tim bore down on a Berkley kicker and leaped into the air, blocking the sailing ball. Racing around the almost spent player, Tim dashed into position to kick the ball across the goal line. But the safety man was facing him, ready to boot the football far down the field and out of danger. Just then Tim saw his brother cut loose and leave the tangled group. Mac’s voice reached him in husky pleading. Tim kicked the ball across on an angle, and Mac’s toe met it with a mighty boot that abruptly changed its course. Caught off guard, the goal tender made a mad dive for the oncoming ball. But he was a fraction too late, and the soccer ball flashed across for the first goal and point. Kent and Barry joined enthusiastically in the wild cheer that went up from Cloverfield rooters. In the next six minutes that remained, Berkley fought fiercely to even the score, but Cloverfield fought as grimly to turn them back and prevent them from scoring. In this they were successful, and the game ended with a victory in favor of the visiting team by the score of one to nothing. “Great work that the twins did,” approved Barry, as they followed the crowd out of the stand section. “You’re right,” nodded Kent. “That gives us the edge on the championship. We’ll congratulate the boys when we see them at home.” They found quite a crowd assembled at the station, and their train was not due for some time. There was a holiday spirit among the people, and the station was decorated with wreaths and sprigs of Christmas greens. Toys and candy were displayed in one case. The stoves at each end of the station glowed, and the heat felt good. Kent and Barry joined a group of home school boys and chatted. Presently Barry left the circle and walked over to the counter to buy a newspaper. Obtaining one, he glanced over the headlines and then turned to the sport page. There were some comments on games and players, and he sat down on a high-backed station seat to read. On the other side two men were seated and talking, but Barry was too absorbed even to glance their way. It was a chance phrase that caught his attention. “Anything new on that Bluff Lodge deal?” a voice asked. The voice that answered was coarse and husky. “No. The old lady don’t want to accept my price. But let her hold out if she wants to. The value don’t go up any. Not on that place.” There was a pause. Barry’s eyes were still on the print, but he did not see it. His ears were listening keenly. It was possible that they were talking about some other place than the haunted lodge. The words of the first man came to him once more. “Nobody will rent the place. She’ll be ready to give it away before long.” At that moment the train puffed into the station, drowning out every other sound. Barry growled inwardly. “It would have to get in just at this moment!” Folding his paper, he stood up casually and looked after the two men, who were walking out to board the train. One was tall and thin, and the other was short and chunky. He was unable to see the face of either one clearly. “Now I wonder who those fellows are,” he mused. “No doubt Dad will know them, if they are connected in any way with Bluff Lodge. And from the way they talked, they have an interest in that place.” |
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