The sight of Dave, distant as it was, gave the girls a slight touch of homesickness, and for want of a better occupation they decided to write back to their friends. They had the library to themselves, for as usual Iris and Azalea had taken their Bible with them to the third floor. “Jake certainly would enjoy this place,” Doris commented as she sat at the desk with pen poised. “He likes mysteries and things that smack of the unusual.” “Jake has had an interesting past, didn’t you say?” “Yes, Uncle Ward rescued him from a bad gang. I think Jake is still afraid of the old leader for he never uses his real name and always seems half afraid that some one he knows will find him. He is absolutely devoted to us now and would do anything in the world to help us.” “Then tell him to come down here and rid this place of ghosts,” Kitty joked. “I’ll bet he could, all right. Jake wouldn’t hesitate to plow right into them.” “Seriously, I wish he and that young man you call Marshmallow would ride out here. Perhaps they could help us to get a line on Ronald Trent.” “That’s so,” Doris agreed. “But why bring Marshmallow in on it? I guess you’d like to see him yourself, wouldn’t you? I noticed you two took to each other on sight.” “I wouldn’t mind seeing Marshall if he happened to be coming this way,” Kitty admitted unembarrassed. “He’s so jolly and—” “Fat!” Doris finished mischievously. “He is a little plump,” Kitty admitted, “but I don’t mind that.” “We might write to Marshmallow and tell him of our experiences here,” Doris said thoughtfully. “It may be that we will need his help before we get home again.” The girls fell to writing their letters and for some time there was no sound other than the scratching of their pens. Kitty wrote home while Doris sent messages to her uncle, to a girl friend in Chilton, to Dave, and to Marshmallow. She did not fail to include a cheery word for Jake. Having finished their writing, the girls took the stamped letters and placed them in the mail box where the postman would gather them up early the next morning. They walked slowly back toward the mansion, Wags trotting contentedly at their heels. Already it was dusk and the old mansion appeared wrapped in gloom. During the day the ancient house seemed less austere and mysterious, but by night it took on a character which filled the girls with uneasiness. Their imaginations tricked them into believing that shadowy forms might lurk behind the trees. They tried to shake off the mood, but always with the darkness it came. “This is entirely different from Barry Manor,” said Doris. “Fancy our sorority moving in here for a week-end, that surely would liven things up a bit, but would no doubt upset the lives of these two ladies who live so secluded and almost a hermits’ existence.”