The Mystery of the Hichcocke Inheritance by Mark Zahn Read Free Book Online Page A

servant’s
entrance at the back of the house.
    Bob watched as his friend slipped inside,
and then made himself comfortable behind a fallen tree, watching
and waiting to see what the cantankerous Jebediah O’Connell would
do next.
    Inside the house, Pete moved like a shadow.
He darted from room to room, every once in awhile stopping to
listen. The house seemed too quiet. He was beginning to wonder if
the Fitchhorns had left for the day when the sound of a door
squeaking on its hinges made him catch his breath, and his skin to
break out in gooseflesh.
    Pete decided the sound had come from the
pantry, the small room just off from the kitchen that was used to
store dry goods and canned food. He tip-toed over to the kitchen
and stole a quick glance around the corner.
    The door to the cellar was open!
    He bit his lip and looked around. Where was
Bob when he needed him? The muscular boy hesitated for a moment,
and then snuck over to the door and listened again. He thought he
heard someone moving around down there, but he couldn’t be sure.
Taking a deep breath, Pete crept down the cool stone steps. The
musty smell of dampness and age oozed up at him, making him wrinkle
his nose.
    A single light bulb burned at the foot of
the stairs, but the rest of the cavernous cellar was engulfed in
deep shadows that made Pete’s flesh crawl. Pipes of all sizes ran
like a crazy maze across the ceiling, and old stones and plaster
crumbled from the ancient walls. He was considering going back and
getting Bob when another sound like a creaking door made him stop
in his tracks.
    Someone was down there!
    Pete Crenshaw summed up all his courage and
forced himself to navigate through the dusty shelves that housed
jars of pickled food and the countless wine bottles of Hichcocke
Manor. A wooden door, grey with age, stood open at the far end of
the menacing cellar. He gulped and cautiously approached it on the
balls of his feet.
    A cobweb brushed against his face and he
nearly let out a startled cry. The tall boy then heard a clicking
noise and realized it was the sound of his own teeth chattering in
his head. He clenched his jaws together and tried to think how
Jupiter Jones would act in this situation.
    Pete hesitated before the open door,
stopping again to listen. A leaky faucet dripped somewhere in the
darkness. Squinting his eyes into the murky shadows, he slowly
crept through the doorway. He could just barely make out three
steps which descended into the small room. He stood on the top step
and waited – the only sound he heard was the blood rushing in his
own ears.
    Suddenly, a hand shoved him roughly in the
back, and with a yelp, Pete went sprawling head first into the
darkness!
    The athletic Second Investigator prided
himself on his agility and he carefully broke his fall – landing on
the smooth stone tiles while turning his body so he could see who
his assailant was. But what he saw made his skin break out in a
fresh case of goose pimples!
    Just before the ancient door slammed closed,
engulfing him in complete and utter darkness, Pete Crenshaw caught
a brief glimpse of a glowing woman in a Victorian dress holding a
noose in her hand!

S
.O.S.

    BOB ANDREWS PULLED his jacket over his head
and grumbled. What had started out as a fine mist an hour before
had eventually turned into a light rain, and now threatened to
become a full-fledged downpour.
    Still Jebediah O’Connell puttered around the
grounds, now with a large umbrella over his head, stopping here and
there to look closer at something or poking his cane about. Bob
wondered if Pete was having more fun inside. At least he was dry,
the studious boy thought to himself.
    Bob looked at his watch. It was well past
lunch-time, but his growling stomach could have told him that. Bob
contemplated calling off the surveillance of Jebediah so he could
go inside and dry off and get something to eat. No, Jupe would
never stand for that, he thought. Better to keep prowling around
the woods, following