A Ghost In The Closet. Mabel Maney
Midge explained.
Just then a coon hound threw back his head and started to howl. Soon all the dogs in the room were barking and howling, whining and whoofing. Nancy led her chums back to the hallway, and once there, explained her scheme.
“I deliberately sprayed myself with Mrs. Meeks’ potent perfume hoping to gain the attention of her poodle Precious. Midge, didn’t you say earlier that a dog’s sense of smell is three hundred times stronger than that of a human’s? I was so hoping that Precious would recognize this odor and bark.”
Cherry gasped. Nancy’s keen logic never ceased to amaze her!
“But in that din, we’ll never recognize Precious’ bark,” Nancy continued. “I’m going back to the Poodle Room to search for clues. Midge, you search the Police Dog Room, Cherry, you check out the Saint Bernard Rescue Trials and Velma, search over there by the dancing terriers,” she directed.
But before the girls could split up, Midge spied a tall, thin man wearing a dark trenchcoat, not ten feet from her. He was pulling a large black trunk with one hand and had an umbrella tucked under the other arm.
“There he is!” Midge cried to her friends. “Hey, you! Stop!” she yelled, taking off after him. At the sight of the girl, the man’s face blanched in fright, and he took off down the long corridor; the heavy trunk rocked to and fro as he rudely pushed past people, striking some of them in the legs.
Cherry was thankful that she had had the foresight to include in her first-aid kit sterile bandages and germicidal ointment for the scraped shins of surprised spectators.
Midge leapt over an enormous Irish wolfhound in an effort to catch the suspect, who, despite his heavy burden, was slipping away. He would have disappeared around the next corner had he not become entangled in the leash of a miniature smooth-coated dachshund who had unwittingly blocked his path.
“Curses!” the man cried, dropping the black trunk as he struggled to free himself. Just as Midge was closing in on him, he glared at her with a fierce mocking gaze, opened his umbrella over his head and—poof! In the wink of an eye, the man disappeared in a cloud of pink smoke!
Cherry gaped at the spot where the man, just moments before, had stood. “Why, he’s gone!” she shrieked. “The trunk is moving!” Cherry then cried. The trunk was indeed bumping about on the slick tile floor, seemingly of its own volition!
Midge, her wits still intact, raced over to the trunk but found it locked. Using Velma’s nail file, she was soon able to break the lock and fling open the lid. Midge grinned with glee when six nervous poodles in various stages of disarray hopped out and covered her face with little wet kisses. The crowd gave a happy sigh of relief when they saw the missing pups. True, two poodles’ topknots had been tangled beyond ready repair, and Mrs. Meeks’ Precious would surely benefit from a good bath—and quick—but on the whole, the six missing dogs seemed to be in fine fettle.
“Frank Hardly’s saved the dogs!” the crowd cried. “Hip, hip hooray!”
“Despite our queer encounter with that devious dognapper, all in all I’d say it’s been a lovely day,” Cherry exclaimed as she slipped off her ballerina flats and stretched out on the wide back seat of Nancy’s snappy canary-yellow convertible. It was a soft summer night and the little group was as happy as could be. Nancy and Cherry were contentedly curled up in the back seat while Midge was behind the wheel, expertly steering the automobile down the country lane leading to River Depths. She had one arm around Velma, who was humming a gay tune.
The girls had made quite a day of it; first the Dog Show and the exciting rescue of the purloined poodles, then a leisurely supper at a quaint restaurant overlooking the lake, and to top it off, a romantic movie at the Royale followed by scrumptious chocolate sodas at an inexpensive but clean corner drugstore.
Midge grinned. She had a crisp new fifty-dollar bill in her wallet—her reward for returning Mrs. Meeks’ diamond dog collar—and her girl by her side.
“It’s been a great night, hasn’t it?” Velma sighed contentedly as she snuggled closer to Midge.
“Sure has,” Midge replied. That evening had been fun, but their earlier experience at the Dog Show had left her feeling uneasy. Who could relax knowing innocent dogs all over town were in danger of being snatched? “If only we could have caught that fellow,” Midge thought to herself. “Nancy, do you think—” but she stopped when she realized no one in the back seat was listening. Cherry and Nancy appeared to be lost in their own world, one of summer evenings spent round a windswept lake.
“Lake Merrimen is certainly one of the loveliest bodies of water I’ve ever seen,” Cherry chirped happily, recalling the sight of the large, limpid lake ringed by giant paper birches, the best-loved tree in America. As dusk fell, the inky black water reflected the starry skies and the creamy white bark of the tall, elegant trees shimmered in the moonlight. Cherry made a mental note to write a letter that very night to her nurse chums back in Seattle describing the high white clouds, deep blue water, boats and passengers in bright summer clothing that dotted the calm surface of the crystal-clear lake.
Cherry, an Idaho girl, secretly wondered what it would be like to be a Lake Resort Nurse and spend her summers cautioning vacationers about the dangers of sunstroke, or to be a Prairie Nurse in a nifty tan uniform warning people about the hazards of grass allergies. Either job, Cherry knew, would be a challenge!
“Why, I could be happy being an Illinois Nurse,” she suddenly realized. She snuck a peek at Nancy, who was leaning on the door of the car, her titian-haired mane blowing in the warm breeze. Her eyes were shut, but Cherry could tell by the contented expression on her face that she was having the very same thought!
“Golly,” Cherry gulped. All day long, she had wished Jackie was with them, but now she couldn’t get over how lovely Nancy looked in the warm glow of the midsummer moon. Suddenly the tender feelings she had once had for Nancy came flooding back.
Just then Nancy opened her eyes and gave Cherry a winsome smile. “Lake Merrimen is everything I said it would be, isn’t it?” Nancy asked softly.
“It certainly is,” Cherry enthused. “Imagine seeing for myself a Midwestern lake whose water is purported to cure chicken pox and halitosis,” she cried.
“Next visit, we’ll use my boat, the Swift Sleuth, and I’ll take you to the spire of rock that juts up from the middle of the lake. It’s called Treasure Island,” Nancy promised with a twinkle in her eye.
“Now I know firsthand why they call this part of the country America’s Playland,” Cherry chirped. “Why, a girl could spend years exploring all its natural wonders!”
Nancy gave Cherry’s hand a warm squeeze. “I was so hoping you’d say that,” she sighed happily.
Golly, was Nancy asking her to stay in Illinois? To spend her life bringing comfort to sick Midwesterners? Cherry quickly fumbled about for a topic that would steer the conversation away from a future of which she was still so unsure.
“Although you explained it earlier, I still don’t understand how that man managed to vanish in a puff of smoke,” she began. “It simply isn’t possible. Why, it defies all known laws of gravity and science!”
All he had left behind was the large black trunk now safely stowed in the trunk of Nancy’s convertible, and a small pile of pink powder which Nancy had scooped up in her handkerchief and stowed in her purse for later analysis.
“While his disappearing act was certainly a clever trick,