Jean Webster - The Four-Pools Mystery

"I hope he isn't dead," Terry murmured wistfully. "I'd like a personal interview."

He sat sunk down in his chair for several minutes intently examining the end of his fountain pen.

"Well," he said rousing himself, "it's time we had a shy at the ghost. We must find out in what way Radnor and Mose were connected with him, and in what way he was connected with the robbery. Radnor could help us considerably if he would only talk—the fact that he won't talk is very suggestive. We'll get at the truth without him, though. Suppose you begin and tell me everything from the first appearance of the ha'nt. I should like to get him tabulated."

"The first definite thing that reached the house," I replied, "was the night of my arrival when the roast chicken was stolen—I've told you that in detail."

"And it was that same night that Aunt What-Ever-Her-Name-Is saw the ghost in the laurel walk?"

I nodded.

"Did she say what it looked like?"

"It was white."

"And when you searched the cabins did you go into the one where the grain is stored?"

"No, Mose dropped his torch at the entrance. And anyway Rad said there was no use in searching it; it was already full to the brim with sacks of corn meal."

"Do you think that Radnor was trying to divert you from the scene?"

"No, I am sure he hadn't a suspicion himself."

"And what did the thing look like that you saw Mose carrying to the cabins in the night?"

"It seemed to be a large black bundle. I have thought since that it might have been clothes or blankets or something of that sort."

"So much for the first night," said Terry. "Now, how soon did the ghost appear again?"

"Various things were stolen after that, and the servants attributed it to the ha'nt, but the first direct knowledge I had was the night of the party when Radnor acted so strangely. I told you of his going back in the night."

"He was carrying something too?"

"Yes, he had a black bundle—it might have been clothes."

"And after that he and Mose were in constant consultation?"

"Yes—they both encouraged the belief in the ha'nt among the negroes and did their best to keep everyone away from the laurel walk. I overheard Mose several times telling stories to the other negroes about the terrible things the ha'nt would do if it caught them."

"And he himself didn't show any fear over the stories?"

"Not the slightest—appeared rather to enjoy them."

"And Radnor—how did he take the matter?"

"He was moody and irritable. I could see that something was preying on his mind."

"How did you explain the matter to yourself?"

"I was afraid he had fallen into the clutches of someone who was threatening him, possibly levying blackmail."

"But you didn't make any attempt to discover the truth?"

"Well, it was Rad's own affair, and I didn't want the appearance of spying. I did keep my eyes open as much as I could."

"And the Colonel, how did he take all this excitement about the ha'nt?"

"It bothered him considerably, but Rad kept him from hearing it as much as he could."

"When did the ha'nt appear again after the party?"

"Oh, by that time all sorts of rumors were running about among the negroes. The whole place was haunted and several of the plantation hands had left. But the next thing that we heard directly was in the early evening before the robbery when Mose, appearing terribly frightened, said he had seen the ha'nt rising in a cloud of blue smoke out of the spring-hole."

"And how did the Colonel and Radnor take this?"

"The Colonel was angry because he had been bragging about Mose not being afraid, and Rad was dazed. He didn't know what to think; he hustled Mose out of the way before we could ask any questions."

"And what did you think?"

"Well, I fancied at the time that he had really seen something, but as I thought it over in the light of later events I came to the conclusion that he was shamming, both then and in the middle of the night when he roused the house."

"That is, you wished to think him shamming, in order to prove his complicity in the robbery and the murder; and so you twisted the facts to suit your theory?"

"I don't think you can say that," I returned somewhat hotly. "It's merely a question of interpreting the facts."

"He didn't gain much by raising all that hullabaloo in the middle of the night."

"Why yes, that was done in order to throw suspicion on the ha'nt."

"Oh, I see!" laughed Terry. "Well, now, let's get to the end of this matter. Was any more seen of the ha'nt after that night?"

"No, at least not directly. For five or six days everyone was so taken up with the robbery that the ha'nt excitement rather died down. Then I believe there were some rumors among the negroes but nothing much reached the house."

"And since the murder nothing whatever has been seen of the ha'nt?"

I shook my head.

"Just give me a list of the things that were stolen."

"Well, the roast chicken, a box of cigars, some shirts off the line, a suit of Rad's pajamas, a French novel, some brandy, quite a lot of things to eat—fresh loaves of bread, preserves, a boiled ham, sugar, coffee—oh, any amount of stuff! The niggers simply helped themselves and laid it to the ha'nt. One of the carriages was left out one night, and in the morning the cushions were gone and two lap robes. At the same time a water pail was taken and a pair of Jake's overalls. And then to end up came the robbery of the safe."

"The ha'nt had catholic tastes. Any of the things turned up since?"

"Yes, a number of things, such as blankets and clothes and dishes have gradually drifted back."

"The carriage cushions and lap robes—ever find them?"

"Never a trace—and why anyone should want 'em, I don't know!"

"What color were the lap robes?"

"Plain black broadcloth."

Terry got up and paced about a few moments and then came back and sat down.

"One thing is clear," he said, "there are two ha'nts."

"Two ha'nts! What do you mean?"

"Just what I say. Suppose for convenience we call them ha'nt number one, and ha'nt number two. Number one occupied apartments over the grain bin and haunted the laurel walk. He was white—I don't wonder at that if he spent much time crawling over those flour sacks. He smoked cigars and read French novels; Mose waited on him and Radnor knew about him—and didn't get much enjoyment out of the knowledge. It took money to get rid of him—a hundred dollars down and the promise of more to come. Radnor himself drove him off in the carriage the night he left, and Mose obliterated all traces of his presence. So much for number one.

"As for number two, he appeared three or four days before the robbery and haunted pretty much the whole place, especially the region of the spring-hole. In appearance he was nine feet tall, transparent, and black. Smoke came from his mouth and blue flames from his eyes. There was a sulphurous odor about him. He was first seen rising out of the spring-hole, and there is a passage in the bottom of the spring-hole that leads straight down to hell. Solomon is my authority.

"I asked him how he explained the apparition and he reckoned it was the ghost of the slave who was beaten to death, and that since his old master had come back to haunt the laurel walk, he had come back to haunt his old master. That sounds to me like a plausible explanation. As soon as it's light I'll have a look at the spring-hole."

"Terry," I said disgustedly, "that may make a very picturesque newspaper story, but it doesn't help much in unravelling the mystery."

"It helps a good deal. I would not like to swear to the flames or sulphur or the passage down to hell, but the fact that he was tall and black and comes from the spring-hole is significant. He was black—mark that—so were the stolen lap robes.