eyes, and despite his advanced age was tall and erect.
The old man smiled pleasantly at the visitors. “Groeszdawdi can help you?” he asked.
Nancy explained that she was looking for a place known as the schnitz, which she thought was an old-time dried-apple storehouse.
“Ach, ya,” the man said. “I know the place. A long time ago it belonged to a farmer named Hoelt.”
Nancy could hardly conceal her excitement. “Yes, go on,” she urged.
“The Hoelts have not lived there for a long time,” Groeszdawdi went on. “They sold the place to city people named Fuller. But now they have abandoned it.”
“Why?” Bess spoke up.
Groeszdawdi Esch looked first at one girl, then the other. “Before I tell you, explain why you want to know about it.”
Nancy wondered what was behind the elderly man’s question, but she replied that Manda Kreutz was missing, and that she thought Manda might be hiding at the schnitz.
“Gfaiirlich! Ess iss wie toedt!”
The girls waited for Mr. Esch to translate. In a moment he did. “It’s dangerous! It’s like death!”
He went on to say that if Manda were there, she, too, might vanish mysteriously, as many others had on that farm.
“But why?” Nancy cried. “Tell us so that we can save her!”
Groeszdawdi Esch shook his head and wagged a finger at the girls. “Stay away from that spot! It is bad luck—very bad luck!”
CHAPTER XV
The Gypsy’s Story
WOULD Groeszdawdi Esch refuse to tell them where the schnitz was? Nancy and Bess wondered. Since he had pronounced it a dangerous place from which people had disappeared, it was unlikely that he would reveal its location.
Nancy, however, finally persuaded him to tell her where the place was. He hesitated a long time, then finally said, “Go four miles north from here. You will see a lane running through a field that has not been tilled for years. The road is overgrown and rutty. Nobody uses it, but you can’t miss it if you keep your eyes open.”
On a hunch Nancy asked whether there was another house on the property some distance from the main building. Groeszdawdi Esch nodded, saying that the old Hoelt family had several children. The father had built houses for them in several locations on the property.
“Was one of the women named Rachel Hoelt?” Nancy asked.
The old man looked at her searchingly and asked how she happened to know of a Rachel Hoelt, who had died fifty years before. Nancy said that she had seen an old Bible with the name in it.
“That’s the farm,” he said. “But I’m telling you again, stay away from it!”
“Why is it dangerous?” Bess spoke up.
Groeszdawdi Esch took a deep breath, then began his story. He used so many Pennsylvania Dutch words and phrases with English that it was difficult for the girls to understand him. But after they had questioned him several times, Nancy and Bess finally got the gist of the tale.
A long time ago, the storyteller related, when the Hoelts lived on the farm, some members of their family vanished mysteriously and were never seen again. Neighbors concluded that there was a hex on the family. One day a band of gypsies came along, and they set up their tents on the property.
“Old Mr. Hoelt was furious,” Groeszdawdi said. “He was sure the gypsies would bring him even worse luck. He ordered them away, but instead of leaving they only moved to the woods on his property.”
It seemed that old Mr. Hoelt was not aware of this, but several of his children went to the encampment and became friendly with the gypsies. One of the women was a beautiful, young fortuneteller. Mr. Hoelt’s eldest son and she fell in love and planned to marry.
The old man found out and stopped the marriage by threatening to disinherit his son. The fortuneteller was furious. She told him that she knew the secret of why members of his family had disappeared, but she would never tell him unless he consented to the marriage. It was a terrible choice for the old man
The old man smiled pleasantly at the visitors. “Groeszdawdi can help you?” he asked.
Nancy explained that she was looking for a place known as the schnitz, which she thought was an old-time dried-apple storehouse.
“Ach, ya,” the man said. “I know the place. A long time ago it belonged to a farmer named Hoelt.”
Nancy could hardly conceal her excitement. “Yes, go on,” she urged.
“The Hoelts have not lived there for a long time,” Groeszdawdi went on. “They sold the place to city people named Fuller. But now they have abandoned it.”
“Why?” Bess spoke up.
Groeszdawdi Esch looked first at one girl, then the other. “Before I tell you, explain why you want to know about it.”
Nancy wondered what was behind the elderly man’s question, but she replied that Manda Kreutz was missing, and that she thought Manda might be hiding at the schnitz.
“Gfaiirlich! Ess iss wie toedt!”
The girls waited for Mr. Esch to translate. In a moment he did. “It’s dangerous! It’s like death!”
He went on to say that if Manda were there, she, too, might vanish mysteriously, as many others had on that farm.
“But why?” Nancy cried. “Tell us so that we can save her!”
Groeszdawdi Esch shook his head and wagged a finger at the girls. “Stay away from that spot! It is bad luck—very bad luck!”
CHAPTER XV
The Gypsy’s Story
WOULD Groeszdawdi Esch refuse to tell them where the schnitz was? Nancy and Bess wondered. Since he had pronounced it a dangerous place from which people had disappeared, it was unlikely that he would reveal its location.
Nancy, however, finally persuaded him to tell her where the place was. He hesitated a long time, then finally said, “Go four miles north from here. You will see a lane running through a field that has not been tilled for years. The road is overgrown and rutty. Nobody uses it, but you can’t miss it if you keep your eyes open.”
On a hunch Nancy asked whether there was another house on the property some distance from the main building. Groeszdawdi Esch nodded, saying that the old Hoelt family had several children. The father had built houses for them in several locations on the property.
“Was one of the women named Rachel Hoelt?” Nancy asked.
The old man looked at her searchingly and asked how she happened to know of a Rachel Hoelt, who had died fifty years before. Nancy said that she had seen an old Bible with the name in it.
“That’s the farm,” he said. “But I’m telling you again, stay away from it!”
“Why is it dangerous?” Bess spoke up.
Groeszdawdi Esch took a deep breath, then began his story. He used so many Pennsylvania Dutch words and phrases with English that it was difficult for the girls to understand him. But after they had questioned him several times, Nancy and Bess finally got the gist of the tale.
A long time ago, the storyteller related, when the Hoelts lived on the farm, some members of their family vanished mysteriously and were never seen again. Neighbors concluded that there was a hex on the family. One day a band of gypsies came along, and they set up their tents on the property.
“Old Mr. Hoelt was furious,” Groeszdawdi said. “He was sure the gypsies would bring him even worse luck. He ordered them away, but instead of leaving they only moved to the woods on his property.”
It seemed that old Mr. Hoelt was not aware of this, but several of his children went to the encampment and became friendly with the gypsies. One of the women was a beautiful, young fortuneteller. Mr. Hoelt’s eldest son and she fell in love and planned to marry.
The old man found out and stopped the marriage by threatening to disinherit his son. The fortuneteller was furious. She told him that she knew the secret of why members of his family had disappeared, but she would never tell him unless he consented to the marriage. It was a terrible choice for the old man
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