The Boarded-Up House by C. Clyde Squires Read Free Book Online Page A

“There’s the easiest way to decide all this!”
    â€œWhat is it?” cried Joyce, opening her eyes wide.
    â€œWhy, just go in there and turn that picture in the drawing-room around!”
    â€œOh, Cynthia, you jewel! Of course it will be the easiest way! What geese we are to have waited so long! Only it will be a heavy thing to lift. But the time has come when it must be done. Let’s go right away!”
    Full of new enthusiasm, they scrambled to their feet, approached the cellar window by a circuitous route (they were always very careful that they should not be observed in this), and were soon in the dim cellar lighting their candles. Then they scurried up-stairs, entered the drawing-room, and set their candlesticks on the table. After that they removed all the breakable ornaments from the mantel and drew another chair close to the fireplace.
    â€œNow,” commanded Joyce, stepping on the seat of one while Cynthia mounted the other, “be awfully careful. That red silk cord it hangs by is perfectly rotten. I’m surprised it has n’t given way before this. Probably, as soon as we touch the picture the cord will break. If so, let the picture down gently to rest on the mantel. Ready!”
    They reached out and grasped the heavy frame. True to Joy’s prediction, the silk cord snapped at once, and the picture’s whole weight rested in their hands.
    â€œQuick!” cried Cynthia. “I can’t hold it any longer!” And with a thud, the heavy burden slipped to the mantel. But there was no damage done and, feeling on the other side, Joyce discovered that it had no glass.
    â€œNow what?” asked Cynthia.
    â€œWe must turn it around as it rests here. We can easily balance it on the mantel.” With infinite caution, and some threatened mishaps, they finally got it into position, right side to the front, and sprang down to get their candles. On holding them close, however, the picture was found to be so coated with gray dust that absolutely nothing was distinguishable.
    â€œGet the dust-rag!” ordered Joyce. And Cynthia, all excitement, rushed down cellar to find it. When she returned, they carefully wiped from the painting its inch-thick coating of the dust of years, and again held their candles to illumine the result.
    For one long intense moment they stared at it. And then, simultaneously, they broke into a peal of hysterical giggles.

CHAPTER VII
GOLIATH MAKES ANOTHER DISCOVERY
    â€œ O H, Cynthia!” gasped Joy at length, “is n’t it too comical! We’re just as far from it all as ever!” And they both fell to chuckling again.
    They were certainly no nearer the solution of their problem. For, facing the room once more, the mysterious picture looked forth—the portrait of two babies! They were plump, placid babies, aged probably about two or three years, and they appeared precisely alike. It took no great stretch of imagination to conjecture what they were—twins—and evidently brother and sister, for one youngster’s dress, being a trifle severe in style, indicated that it was doubtless a boy. These two cherubic infants had both big brown eyes, fat red cheeks, and adorable, fluffy golden curls. They were pictured as sitting, hand in hand, on a green bank under a huge spreading tree and gazing solemnly toward a distant church steeple.
    â€œThe poor little things!” cried Cynthia, “Think of them having been turned to the wall all these years! Now what was the sense of it,—two innocent babies like that!” But Joyce had not been listening. All at once she put down her candle on the table and faced her companion.
    â€œI’ve got it!” she announced. “It came to me all of a sudden. Of course those babies are twins, brother and sister. Any one can tell that! Well, don’t you see, one of them—the girl—was our Lovely Lady. The other was her twin brother. It’s all as clear as