Chapter 15 The Secret of Red Gate Farm by Carolyn Keene
Masqueraders
Nancy and George turned just in time to see a brownish snake slither off in a wiggling motion and disappear among the stones.
“Oh, George!” Bess cried. “Was it a poisonous one?”
“I’m not sure,” she answered, “I—I hope it wasn’t a copperhead.”
“We’d better not take any chances,” Nancy declared, whipping a handkerchief from her beach robe. “Let’s put on tourniquets, Bess.”
Like lightning the two girls tied their handkerchiefs tightly above and below the puncture marks made in George’s calf by the snake’s fangs.
Then Nancy took a tiny pair of scissors from her bag. “I wish I had something to sterilize these with,” she said.
“Will perfume do?” Bess asked, and took from her bag the tiny bottle of Blue Jade.
The liquid was poured onto the scissors, then Nancy deftly made a crosscut incision near the punctures. Blood spurted out, and with it, she hoped, any serum the snake might have injected.
George stoically had not made a sound, but finally she said, “Thanks, girls. Your quick first aid probably made it possible for me to go to the ceremonies tonight—if they have them.”
“I think you’d better not step on your foot, or stimulate circulation,” Nancy advised. “Suppose Bess and I carry you.”
George started to protest but finally consented. Seated on a “chair” made by the intertwined hands of Nancy and Bess, George was carried toward the farmhouse.
The trip, though awkward and slow, went at a steady pace. George maintained her Spartan attitude. She not only refused to complain but teasingly asked Bess, “Aren’t you glad I don’t eat as much as you do?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Bess replied, puzzled.
“Well, if I loved desserts as you do,” George teased, “I wouldn’t be such a featherweight to carry!”
Bess gave her cousin an indignant glance. “How do you like that for gratitude! Next time I lug you all the way home—!”
Nancy interrupted with a grin, “I guess we all do our share of eating dessert. Anyhow, we’ve made it, girls. Red Gate Farm is just ahead!”
As they came up to the house, Mrs. Salisbury, who was in the garden, exclaimed, “Oh, gracious! What happened?” Mr. Abbott and Mrs. Byrd hurried from the house.
“Just a precautionary measure,” Nancy explained, and told of the snake incident.
George was carried indoors and laid on a couch. Mrs. Byrd quickly called the family physician. He arrived shortly, and examined George’s wound.
The doctor nodded approvingly as he bathed it with an antiseptic and removed the tourniquets.
“Excellent first-aid treatment,” he announced. “You’ll be fine, young lady. I’d advise you to rest for several hours.”
“Thank you. That’s good news.” George gave a relieved grin.
For the remainder of the afternoon she was made to lie inactive. When dinnertime came, George got up, declaring, “I never felt better!”
“But take it easy in case we go out tonight,” Nancy pleaded with her.
To allay suspicion on the part of the other boarders, Bess and Joanne were posted as guards across the road. If they saw the beginning of rites on the hill, the girls were to give birdcalls. In the meantime, Nancy and George waited in George’s room, the costumes ready to be picked up at a moment’s notice.
Suddenly Nancy leaped from her chair and flew into her own bedroom. “What’s eating you?” George called.
“Oh, why didn’t I think of it before? How stupid of me!” Nancy said, returning with a piece of paper in her hand.
“What are you talking about?” George demanded.
“That snake today. The way he wriggled. It looked just like the mark over the numeral 2 in the coded message!” Nancy cried excitedly. “The 2 we think means B!”
George sat up. “You mean the B with the wavy line over it might signify the Black Snake Colony?”
“Yes. Oh, George, this connects the Hale Syndicate with the nature cult here. Now the message reads: ‘Maurice Hale calling Black Snake Colony meeting—’ ”
“And the 18. How about that?” George asked.
“Not too hard to guess, George. The 18 is the letter R, and could stand for Red Gate Farm.”
“Nancy, you’re a whiz, as I’ve often told you,” her friend declared.
The young sleuth smiled, then said wistfully, “If I could only have had another second to copy the next few numbers, I might have known the exact time.”
“What happens now? Will you notify the police?”
At that instant Nancy and George heard soft birdcalls. “No time to phone now,” Nancy said.
She grabbed two of the costumes and dashed from the room. George followed with the others. As prearranged, the girls left by the kitchen door to avoid the boarders. Mrs. Byrd had been told that the girls might go up the hillside to watch if the nature cult put on a performance.
Nancy and George joined the other girls and they all scurried toward the woods. It was very dark beneath the dense canopy of trees, and Bess gripped Nancy’s arm. Joanne was familiar with every path and led the way toward the hillside.
A weird cry broke the stillness. Involuntarily the girls halted and moved closer together.
“What—was—that?” Bess chattered.
“Only some wild animal,” Nancy reassured her. “Come on!” she urged. “We must hurry or we’ll miss the ritual!”
The girls went through the dark forest as fast as they could. The moon was rising, and ghostly rays of light filtered through gaps in the foliage overhead. A faint breeze stirred the leaves into what seemed like menacing whispers. The girls finally reached the river trail and followed it.
“We must be careful now,” Nancy warned in a low voice. “We’re drawing near the colony. The cult may have a lookout stationed during the night ceremonies.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Joanne murmured.
“I almost wish I hadn’t come,” Bess whispered nervously. “I had no idea it would be this dark.”
“What were you expecting at nine-thirty at night?” George chided in as low a tone as possible.
“It will be lighter when the moon rises higher,” Joanne told her. “Still—if you want to turn back—”
“No, I’m going through with this masquerade if the rest of you are!” Bess retorted stalwartly.
Nancy hoped fervently it would remain a masquerade. She was firmly convinced now that the Black Snake group were unscrupulous people working with, or at least friendly with Maurice Hale. Nancy now felt convinced that the mystic rites were nothing but a sham.
Fortunately, for Nancy’s purpose, the hillside was covered with large rocks as well as dense shrubs which would provide temporary hiding places. As the girls stole cautiously up the steep path, they could see cult members still congregating.
“We’re in plenty of time,” she thought.
The girls separated, George and Bess crouching behind a huge rock. Joanne and Nancy took cover behind a heavy growth of shrubs and tall grass.
For nearly ten minutes the girls watched as figures milled about the hillside. Then they heard the sound of cars approaching.
“They must be coming up through the pasture again,” Joanne said, listening intently.
An instant later she and Nancy saw the headlights of three automobiles.
“Look!” Joanne tugged at Nancy’s sleeve. “More members are coming out of their tents!”
The two girls watched the white-robed figures walking slowly toward the brow of the hill, where the three automobiles had parked.
“I wonder if one of the newcomers is Maurice Hale,” Nancy thought.
She and Joanne were too far away to hear what was being said, but they could see distinctly. They watched as a group of men and women, twelve in number, stepped from the cars. Nancy could not distinguish any of their faces.
The new arrivals quickly donned white garments and headgear similar to the outfits Nancy and her friends had made, then joined the other members of the cult.
The ghostly figures soon began dancing about in the moonlight, and Nancy felt that the time was right for her daring attempt to join the group. Before she could tell Joanne, there was a slight stir in the bushes directly behind her.
Involuntarily Nancy jumped, fully expecting to come face to face with one of the cult members. Instead, Bess and George emerged.
“Isn’t it about time for us to do something?” they asked, almost simultaneously.
“Yes,” Nancy agreed, “we’d better get into our robes as quickly as we can.”
The girls were well hidden by the rocks and bushes. They donned their costumes and pulled the headgear over their faces. For the first time, Nancy noticed the scent of Blue Jade on Bess. “I wonder if that was wise,” Nancy thought. “If it attracts attention to Bess it might increase her danger, but it’s too late now to do anything about it.”
As George, overeager, started off, Nancy caught her friend’s arm. “Wait!” she warned. “We must slip quietly into the circle one at a time.”
“My knees are shaking now,” Bess admitted. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to dance.”
“Stay here if you like,” Nancy told her. “I think we should leave someone to keep guard, anyway.”
“I’ll stay,” Joanne offered. “I know the way back through the woods better than you girls do.”
“Come on!” George pleaded. “If we don’t hurry we’ll be too late!”
“Good luck!” Joanne whispered as the girls crept away.
Inch by inch, the three girls made their way up the hill. They crouched behind a clump of bushes a stone’s throw from where the cult members were dancing. Nancy indicated that she would make the first move. Bess and George nodded.
“The slightest mistake will mean detection!” Nancy thought, her heart pounding.
Waiting for the right moment, she suddenly slipped out among the white-robed figures and instantly began waving her arms and making grotesque motions.