The Mystery at Number Six | Page 5

gratitude. It would be rather awkward if we don't even know who she is, wouldn't it?"
But Sydney was not to be so easily convinced. He was adamant on the subject of visiting Dr. Halsey and questioning him about his new tenants. The cousins, however, were spared the necessity by something that happened that very evening. They had gone together to the early moving-picture show, and when it was over Sydney suggested that they repair to the Orange Blossom Café and have some soda.
Now. the Orange Blossom Café was a town institution. It was the one establishment in the village where ice-cream and soda-water were dispensed, where candy and cigars could be bought, where one could obtain something approaching a restaurant meal--though it approached this no closer than fried ham and eggs and bacon and ham-sandwiches and coffee--usually the only commodities on the bill of fare! But it was the great gathering-place of the town, and around its four or five little tables or over its sloppy soft-drink counter were retailed all the news and gossip within a radius of thirty miles of the center.
Bernice and Sydney seated themselves at one of the little tables and gave their order to the worried-looking, white-aproned boy who attended to such matters. But before it had even been delivered, Sydney, who had been gazing purposefully around at the occupants of the place, hailed some one sitting over in a far corner, in a chair tilted against the wall.
"There's Ike Massey!" he whispered to Bernice. "I'd be willing to wager he can tell a few things about Number Six. He knows everything!"
"O Ike! Come over here and have some ice-cream with us, won't you?"
Nothing loath, Ike got up and slouched over to their table with a pleased grin. He was a village character--red-haired, good-natured, always wearing a cheerful grin, boastful and lazy, and of no particular occupation that any one had ever heard of. His chief interest in life was fishing and hunting, and he had whipped every pool and river in that part of Florida times without number. He made an ideal companion for a day's sport, but was of no other earthly use except as a purveyor of village gossip, of which he had always an inexhaustible supply.
"Been fishin' anywhere lately, Ike?" began Sydney, opening up at once the subject he knew was nearest Ike's heart.
"Well, I been over to the Peace River for the last day or two," acknowledged Ike. "Kind o' tired of these pools and wanted a diff'rent kind o' sport. Good catchin' over there! Reckon I landed thirty or forty in one mornin'! Sold 'em in Fort Meade an' got myself a new rod an' reel!"
"I was over at old Number Six this afternoon," Sydney contributed. "Shot 'em up a bit the way I showed you last week. Good going, too. But, by the way, Ike, did you know there's some one living at the old farm-house there? Quite surprised me to see some one in it!"
Ike Massey looked at him thoughtfully before replying and took a large mouthful of cream. "Know who it is?" he queried between spoonfuls.
"No, didn't see any one but a girl, about Bernice's age, I should think. Queer little specimen!"
Ike continued to imbibe ice-cream for an appreciable interval. Finally he spoke. "I was over to Number Six myself--'bout a week ago. Not much luck. Weather too cool and fish weren't bitin'." He paused in his leisurely way and surrounded another huge spoonful of ice-cream. These intervals were maddening to his two interlocutors, but they knew there was no way to make him come to the point other than simply--to wait!
"Seen some one in the old house myself," he went on at last. "Couldn't quite make things out--at first!" He scraped the last drops of cream from the bottom of his dish and then sat back, staring silently and somewhat mournfully at the empty plate.
"Have another plate of cream, Ike!" urged Sydney warmly and purposefully. "It's a hot night and these dishes don't amount to any thing at all. I'm going to have another myself!"
"All right! Thank ye! Don't mind if I do!" And Sydney gave the order, trusting that a fresh supply would bring forth fresh information. Ike began on his new plate with unabated vigor and was in no condition to talk for a moment or two.
"Well, as I was sayin', the fishin' up to Number Six was pretty poor last week. I dunno what got into 'em. I don't reckon I brought home four after a whole day at it."
"That so! You say you saw some one in the old house?" questioned Sydney, patiently herding him round to the subject again.
"I certainly seen signs it was inhabited--ferns on the porch, an' all that. An' finally, as my water-bottle was plumb empty, I