Free The Mystery of the Whispering Witch by Julie Campbell Page B

her thoughts. She glanced around the small cottage that had once been the gatehouse of the huge Wheeler estate.
    She remembered how hard the Bob-Whites had worked to turn the cottage into a clubhouse they could all be proud of. Neat curtains hung at the windows. Winter and summer sports equipment was stored on tidy shelves: skis, skates, hockey sticks, sleds, pup tents, tennis rackets, and camping gear.
    The Bob-Whites were seated on benches at the big table that Brian and Jim had made. Mart, not as handy with carpentry tools as the other boys, had sanded and stained the furniture.
    Trixie knew, as did the others, that there were a lot of memories in their clubhouse—memories of other conferences they’d held, other adventures they’d talked about and puzzled over together.
    Trixie glanced at the little cottage’s dirt floor and remembered when she’d found a diamond embedded there. She looked up and found that Jim was watching her. She flushed and wondered if he was remembering that adventure, too.
    “Well, Trix?” he asked, his face still stiff with shock from the strange story they’d just heard. “What do you think? What can we do to help?” Trixie leaned toward Fay, who was seated next to dark-haired Dan Mangan on the other side of the table. “I was just thinking, Fay,” she said. “This old place has heard a lot of stories in its time—but, jeepers, I don’t think it’s ever heard anything like this.”
    “I know,” Fay said, her voice trembling, “and I don’t blame any of you if you think I’m making the whole thing up.”
    Pretty Diana Lynch said warmly, “But, of course, we don’t think you’re making it up, Fay. At least, I don’t. I’ve read a lot about stuff like this—where people get possessed by evil spirits, I mean. Some folks think that there are such things as ghosts and that they do haunt houses.”
    “But have you ever heard of anything like this?” Trixie asked.
    “N-No, not quite like this,” Di answered uncertainly. “Tell us again, Fay. How did you say it all started?”
    Now that Fay had told her story once, it seemed as if she found it much easier. “Everything was fine when we first moved into Lisgard House,” she told them. “My mother was so pleased and happy that she’d found a good job. Mr. Gregory hired her in New York, you know. Did I tell you that?”
    “Yes,” Dan said, “I guess you did.”
    Trixie looked at him sharply. He had a strange note in his voice. It was as though he didn’t quite believe the story he’d heard, either. Trixie could tell that both Brian and Mart still had doubts. Neither of them was looking directly at Fay. It was as if they didn’t want to meet her eyes.
    “We needed money,” Fay said, sounding suddenly tired. “My mother is insisting I go on to college later, you see, and you know how expensive that is these days. I did plan on applying for scholarships when the time came, but—”
    “We get the picture, Fay,” Mart said abruptly, staring down at his hands, which were clasped on the table in front of him. “You and your mother needed the money, so when Mr. Gregory offered a housekeeping position in a haunted house, you both jumped at it.”
    Fay didn’t seem to notice the edge in Mart’s voice. She shook her dark head. “No, it wasn’t quite like that. We didn’t know the history of Lisgard House. In fact, we didn’t find out about it until we’d moved in. And he was—that is, Mr. Gregory was paying Mother a very good salary. It was certainly better than anything in salary she’d ever received before.”
    “Didn’t that make you suspicious?” Brian asked. “No,” Fay answered simply. “We just figured our luck had changed for the better at last.” She frowned. “I can’t really remember when all the strange things began happening. At first it was just little things. It would be stuff like vases moved out of place when I knew I’d put them somewhere else. Once I found all the saucepans and kettles