The Mystery at Dark Cedars Page 2

  CHAPTER II _The Robbery_

  The house in which Mary Louise's family lived was as different from theGrants' as day is from night. It was painted white, and its smooth greenlawn was dotted here and there with bright flower beds. Modern, airy, andfilled with sunshine, the house itself looked like the home of a happyfamily, which the Gays were--as their name implied.

  Mary Louise's young brother--always called "Freckles"--was setting thebreakfast table when she came downstairs the morning after her visit toDark Cedars. It was Mary Louise's task to put the bedding to air whileher mother cooked breakfast. Mrs. Gay did not keep a maid, and bothchildren did their share of the work.

  As they sat down to breakfast Mary Louise could not help contrasting herlife with poor Elsie Grant's. Thinking how different, how cheerfuleverything was here--though of course it was never quite the same whenher father was away on a case, as so happened at the present time. MaryLouise wanted to do something to help Elsie, besides just visiting her.She had a sudden inspiration.

  "I have a lot of clothes, haven't I, Mother?" she inquired as she spreadmarmalade on her toast.

  Mrs. Gay smiled. She was a pretty woman, with the same dark hair and darkeyes as her daughter.

  "I wouldn't say that, dear," she replied. "I think you have enough. Butif there is something you specially want, I guess you can have it. Isthat why you ask?"

  "No," replied Mary Louise laughingly. "It's just the other way around.Instead of buying more, what I want to do is to give some away. A coupleof dresses, perhaps, and some lingerie. And a pair of slippers."

  Mrs. Gay nodded approvingly. Being both a neat housekeeper and acharitable woman, she loved to clear things out and, if possible, givethem to someone who could use them.

  "Yes," she said. "I was thinking of making up a package to send to theSalvation Army today. That old blue sweater of yours could go, and thered woolen dress----"

  "No! No!" interrupted Mary Louise. "I didn't mean things like that,Mother. I want to give away a couple of nice dresses. Like my greenflowered silk, for instance, and my pink linen. May I?"

  "Why, Mary Louise! I thought you especially liked those dresses. What'sthe matter with them?"

  "Nothing. I do like them a lot. That's why I chose them. I want to givethem to a girl who hasn't had a new dress for over two years."

  "Who is she?" asked Mrs. Gay sympathetically.

  "A niece of old Miss Grant. You know--that queer old maid who lives atDark Cedars. About a mile out of town."

  Her mother nodded.

  "Yes, I know where you mean, dear. But that woman is reputed to berich--much better off than we are. I can't understand----"

  "Of course you can't, Mother, unless you see poor Elsie Grant. She'sabout my age--a year younger, to be exact--and she's an orphan. Two yearsago, when her mother died, she came to live with Miss Grant because shehadn't anywhere to go and no money. And the old lady treats hershamefully. Dresses her in those old calico dresses that servants used towear years ago. So Elsie can't go anywhere, not even to school."

  Mrs. Gay's lips closed tightly, and her eyes narrowed.

  "So that's the kind of woman Miss Grant is!" she muttered. "I always knewshe was queer, but I never thought she was cruel.... Yes, of course youcan give the girl some clothing, dear. Go pick out anything you want,except those brand-new things we bought last week for our trip inAugust."

  Mary Louise lost no time in making her selection. She piled the clothingon her bed, after she had put her room in order, and called her mother infor her approval. But before tying up the package she whistled for Janefrom her window.

  Her chum came running across the grass that grew between the two housesand bounded up the steps. Briefly Mary Louise explained what she wasdoing.

  "But I want to give Elsie something too," Jane said. "She ought to havesome kind of summer coat and a hat. Wait till I ask Mother."

  She returned in less than five minutes bringing a lovely white wool coatand a white felt hat to match it. Mary Louise tied up the bundle.

  "Please ask Freckles to take care of Silky this morning, Mother," shesaid. "I'm afraid that perhaps Miss Grant might not like him."

  The girls started off immediately through the streets of Riverside to thelonely road that led to Dark Cedars.

  "I sort of wish we had Silky with us," observed Jane as they approachedthe house. "He is a protection."

  Mary Louise laughed.

  "But there isn't anything to protect us from! Elsie said nothing everhappened in the daytime."

  A stifled sob coming from under the cedar trees caused the girls to stopabruptly and peer in among the low branches. There, half concealed by thethick growth, sat Elsie Grant, crying bitterly.

  Mary Louise and Jane were beside her in a second.

  "What's the matter, Elsie?" demanded Mary Louise. "What happened?"

  The girl raised her tear-stained face and attempted to smile. For MaryLouise and Jane came nearest to being her friends of all the people inthe world.

  "Aunt Mattie has been robbed," she said. "And--everybody thinks I didit!"

  "You!" cried Jane. "Oh, how awful!"

  The girls sat down on the ground beside her and asked her to tell themall about it. The bundle of clothing was forgotten for the time being inthis new, overwhelming catastrophe.

  "My aunt has a big old safe in her room, that she always keeps locked,"Elsie began. "She hasn't any faith in banks, she says, because they arealways closing, so all her money is in this safe. I've often heard AuntGrace try to make Aunt Mattie stop hoarding, but Aunt Mattie alwaysrefuses. She loves to have it where she can see it and count it."

  "A regular miser," remarked Jane.

  "Yes. It's her one joy in life--besides the little kitten. Every morningafter breakfast she opens that safe and counts her money over again."

  "Doesn't she ever spend any?" asked Mary Louise.

  "A little, of course. She pays William and Hannah a small amount, and shebuys some food, especially in winter. But we have a garden, you know, andchickens and a cow."

  "When did she miss this money?"

  "This morning. It was there yesterday. Aunt Mattie counted it right afteryou girls went home. You can hear her say the figures out loud and sortof chuckle to herself. But today she just let out a scream. It washorrible! I thought she was dying."

  "Maybe it was taken last night," said Mary Louise. "Did you hear any ofthose queer noises--I mean the kind you heard before, when you thoughtsomebody searched that old trunk in the attic?"

  "No, I didn't. That's the worst part. Nobody else heard anything, either,all night long, and no door locks were broken. Of course, a burglar mighthave entered over the front porch roof, through Aunt Mattie's window. Butshe's a light sleeper, and she says she never heard a sound."

  "So of course she claims you stole it!"

  Elsie nodded and started to cry again.

  "But I didn't! I give you my word I didn't!"

  "Of course you didn't, Elsie. We believe you."

  "Aunt Mattie did everything but torture me to get a confession out of me.She said if I didn't own up to it and give it back she'd send me to areform school, and I'd be branded as a criminal for the rest of my life."

  "She couldn't do that!" exclaimed Mary Louise furiously. "If she has noproof ... I'll tell you what I'll do, Elsie! I'll put my father on thecase when he comes home! He's a detective on the police force, and he'sjust wonderful. He'll find the real thief."

  Elsie shook her head.

  "No, I'm afraid you can't do that. Because Aunt Mattie distinctly saidthat she won't have the police meddling in this. She says that if Ididn't steal the money somebody else in the family did."

  "What family?"

  "Aunt Grace's family. She's the Mrs. Grant, you know, who lives inRiverside. She has three grown-up children and one grandchild. AuntMattie says one of these relatives is guilty, if I'm not, and she'll findout herself, without bringing shame upon the Gra
nt name."

  Mary Louise groaned.

  "The only thing I can see for us to do, then, is to be detectivesourselves. Jane and I will do all we can to help you, won't we, Jane?"

  Her chum nodded. "At least, if we don't have to get into any spookinessat night," she amended. "Those mysterious sounds you told us about,Elsie----"

  "They may all have some connection with this robbery," announced MaryLouise. "And I'd like to find out!"

  Elsie looked doubtful.

  "I only hope Aunt Mattie doesn't try the bread-and-water diet on me, toget a confession. Really, you have no idea how awful that is till you tryit. You just get crazy for some real food. You'd be almost willing to lieto get it, even if you knew the lie was going to hurt you."

  "If she tries that, you let us know," cried Jane angrily, "and we'llbring our parents right over here!"

  "All right, I will." Elsie seemed to find some relief in the promise.

  "Elsie," said Mary Louise very seriously, "tell me who you really thinkdid steal the money."

  The girl considered the problem carefully.

  "I believe it was somebody in Aunt Grace's family," she replied slowly."Because they used to be rich, and now they are poor. And I think that ifa burglar had entered the house, somebody, probably Aunt Mattie, wouldhave wakened up."

  "Couldn't he have entered before your aunt went to bed?" suggested MaryLouise.

  "Maybe. But Aunt Mattie was on the front porch all evening, and she'dprobably have heard him."

  "All right, then," agreed Mary Louise. "Let's drop the idea of theburglar for the time being. Let's hear about the family--your auntGrace's family, I mean."

  She reached into her pocket and took out a pencil and notebook, which shehad provided for the purpose of writing down any items of clothing thatElsie might particularly want. Instead of that, she would list thepossible suspects, the way her father usually did when he was working ona murder case.

  "Go ahead," she said. "I'm ready now. Tell me how many brothers andsisters your aunt Mattie had, and everything else you can."

  "Aunt Mattie had only two brothers, and not any sisters at all. My fatherwas one brother, and Aunt Grace's husband was the other. They're bothdead."

  "Then your aunt Grace isn't your aunt Mattie's real sister?" inquiredJane.

  "No. But Aunt Mattie seems to like her better than any of her bloodrelations, even if she is only a sister-in-law. She comes over herepretty often."

  "Maybe she took the money."

  Elsie looked shocked.

  "Not Aunt Grace! She's too religious. Always going to church and talkingabout right and wrong. She even argued with Aunt Mattie to let me go toSunday school, but Aunt Mattie wouldn't buy me a decent dress."

  At the mention of clothing, Jane reached for the package they had carriedwith them to Dark Cedars, but Mary Louise shook her head, signalling herto wait until Elsie had finished.

  "Well, anyway, Aunt Mattie's father liked her better than her twobrothers, and he promised to leave her his money if she wouldn't getmarried while he was alive. And she didn't, you know."

  "I guess nobody ever asked her," remarked Jane bluntly.

  "That's what my mother used to say," agreed Elsie. "She didn't like AuntMattie, and Aunt Mattie hated her. So it's no wonder I'm not welcomehere!"

  Mary Louise called Elsie back to her facts by tapping her pencil on hernotebook.

  "So far I have only one relative written down," she said. "That's youraunt Grace. Please go on."

  "As I told you, I think," Elsie continued immediately, "Aunt Grace hasthree grown children. Two boys and a girl."

  "Names, please," commanded Mary Louise in her most practical tone.

  "John Grant, Harry Grant, and Mrs. Ellen Grant Pearson. The daughter ismarried."

  "How old are they?"

  "All about forty, I guess. I don't know. Middle-aged--no, I guess youwouldn't call Harry middle-aged. He's the youngest. Except, of course,the granddaughter--Mrs. Pearson's only child. She's a girl about eighteenor nineteen."

  "What's her name?"

  "Corinne--Corinne Pearson."

  "Is that everybody?" asked Mary Louise. "I mean, all the living relativesof Miss Mattie Grant?"

  "Yes, that's all."

  Mary Louise read her list aloud, just to make sure that she had gottenthe names correctly and to impress them upon her own mind.

  "Mrs. Grace Grant--aged about sixty-five, sister-in-law of Miss Mattie.

  "John Grant--middle-aged.

  "Ellen Grant Pearson--middle-aged.

  "Harry Grant--about thirty.

  "Corinne Pearson--about nineteen...."

  "But you forgot me!" Elsie reminded her.

  "No, we didn't forget you, either," replied Mary Louise, with a smile."We've got something for you--in that package."

  "Something to make you forget your troubles," added Jane. "Some newclothes."

  The girl's eyes lighted up with joy.

  "Honestly? Oh, that's wonderful! Let me see them!"

  Mary Louise untied the package and held the things up for Elsie to lookat. The girl's expression was one of positive rapture. A silk dress! Inthe latest style! And the kind of soft wooly coat she had always dreamedof possessing! A hat that was a real hat--not one of those outlandishsunbonnets her aunt Mattie made her wear! Dainty lingerie--and a pair ofwhite shoes!

  "Oh, it's too much!" she cried. "I couldn't take them! They're your bestthings--I know they are." And once again her eyes filled with tears.

  "We have other nice clothes," Mary Louise assured her. "And our motherssaid it was all right. So you must take them: we'd be hurt if youdidn't."

  "Honestly?" The girl looked as if she could not believe there was so muchgoodness in the world.

  "Absolutely! Now--don't you want to go in and try them on?"

  "I'll do it right here," said Elsie. "These cedars are so thick thatnobody can see me. And if I went into the house they might not let me outagain to show you."

  With trembling fingers she pulled off her shoes and stockings, and theold calico dress she was wearing, and put on the silk slip and the greenflowered dress. Then the white stockings and the slippers, which fittedbeautifully. And last of all, the coat.

  Her eyes were sparkling now, and her feet were taking little dancingsteps of delight. Elsie Grant looked like a different person!

  "Wonderful!" cried Mary Louise and Jane in the same breath.

  "Only--let me fix your hair," suggested the former. "It's naturallycurly, isn't it? But you have it drawn back so tightly you can scarcelysee any wave."

  "I'd like to wear it like yours, Mary Louise," replied the orphanwistfully. "But it's too long, and I have no money for barbers or beautyparlors."

  "We'll see what we can do next time we come," answered Mary Louise. "Butlet's loosen it up a bit now and put your knot down low on your neck sothat the hat will fit."

  Deftly she fluffed it out a little at the sides and pinned it in a modishstyle. Then she put the little white felt hat on Elsie's head at just thecorrect angle and stepped back to survey the transformed girl with pride.

  "You're positively a knockout, Elsie!" she exclaimed in delight. "Take myword for it, you're going to be a big hit in Riverside." She chuckled toherself. "We'll all lose our boy-friends when they see you!"

  "Oh no!" protested Elsie seriously. "You are really beautiful, MaryLouise! And so clever and good. And so is Jane."

  Both girls smiled at Elsie's extravagant praise. Then Mary Louise turnedback to her notebook.

  "I'd like to hear more about yesterday," she said: "whether you think anyof these five relatives had a chance to steal that money."

  "They all had a chance," answered Elsie. "They were all here--and all upin Aunt Mattie's room at some time or other during the day or evening!"