The Mystery of the Fires Page 6

  CHAPTER VI _More Suspects_

  "I told Mother we girls would take every other day at the housekeeping,"said Mary Louise as she backed the car out of the garage and onto theroad behind the cottages. "That will give her a chance to get some restfrom cooking--some vacation. You don't mind, do you, Jane?"

  "Course I don't mind!" replied her chum. "Maybe the family will, though!"

  "Don't you believe it! We're swell cooks, if I do say it myself."

  She drove the car along past the backs of the cottages, turning at theroad beyond Ditmars in the direction of the little village of FourCorners--a place not much bigger than its name implied. It was a still,hot day; all the vegetation looked parched and dried, and the road wasthick with dust.

  "I wish it would rain," remarked Mary Louise. "If we should have anotherfire, it might spread so that it would wipe out all of Shady Nook."

  "Oh, let's forget fires for a while," urged Jane. "You're gettingpositively morbid on the subject!... Is this the grocery?" she asked asher companion stopped in front of a big wooden house. "It looks more likea dry-goods store to me. All those aprons and overalls hanging around."

  "It's a country store," explained the other girl. "Wait till you see theinside! They have everything--even shoes. And the storekeeper looks overhis glasses just the way they always do in plays."

  The girls jumped out of the car and ran inside. Jane found the place justas Mary Louise had described it: a typical country store of theold-fashioned variety.

  "Hello, Mr. Eberhardt! How are you this summer?" asked Mary Louise.

  "Fine, Miss Gay--fine. You're lookin' well, too. But I hear you had someexcitement over to Shady Nook. A bad fire, they tell me. Can you figureout how it happened?"

  "No, we can't," replied the girl. "You see, everybody was away at thetime--at a picnic on the little island down the river."

  "Looks like spite to me," observed the storekeeper. "Bet Lemuel Adams orhis good-fer-nuthin' son done it!"

  "Lemuel Adams?" repeated Mary Louise. "Who is he? Any relation to HattieAdams, who always waited on the table at Flicks' Inn?"

  "Yep--he's her father. You ought to know him. He's a farmer who lives upthat hill, 'bout a couple of miles from Shady Nook. Well, he used to ownall this ground around here, but he sold it cheap to a man named Hunter.The one who started the settlement at Shady Nook."

  "Yes, I knew him," said Mary Louise. "He was Clifford Hunter's father.But he died not long ago."

  "So I heard. Anyhow, this man Hunter got fancy prices for his buildinglots, and naterally old Lem Adams got sore. Always complainin' how poorhe is and how rich old Hunter got on his land. Reckon it got under hisskin, and mebbe he decided to take revenge."

  "Oh!"

  Mary Louise wanted to write the name of Lemuel Adams into her notebookthen and there, but she didn't like to. Should she add Hattie's name too?Had the girl taken any part in the plot?

  "What sort of looking man is Mr. Adams?" she inquired, thinking of the"tramp" whom the boys had mentioned seeing in the woods.

  "Old man--with white hair. Has a bad leg--rheumatism, I reckon. He walkswith a limp," explained the storekeeper.

  Mary Louise sighed: this couldn't be the same person, then, for the boyswould surely have noticed a limp.

  "Here's my list," she said, handing her mother's paper to Mr. Eberhardt."Do you think you have all those things?"

  "If I ain't, I can get 'em fer you," was the cheerful reply.

  The girls wandered idly about the store while they waited for their orderto be filled. Jane had a wonderful time examining the queer articles ondisplay and laughing at the ready-made dresses. At last, however, a boycarried their supplies to the car, and Mary Louise asked for the bill.

  "Nine dollars and sixty-two cents," announced Mr. Eberhardt, with a grin."You folks sure must like to eat!"

  "We do," agreed Mary Louise. "I suppose this will mean more business foryou. Or did the Flicks buy groceries from you anyhow?"

  "No, they didn't. They got most of their stuff from the city.... Yes, ina way it's a streak of luck fer me. The old sayin', you know--that it'san ill wind that brings nobody luck!... Yes, I'll have to be stockin'up."

  Mary Louise and Jane followed the boy to the car and drove away. As soonas they were safely out of hearing, Mary Louise said significantly, "Twomore suspects for my notebook!"

  "Two?" repeated Jane. "You mean Lemuel Adams and his son?"

  "I wasn't thinking of the son," replied Mary Louise, "Though, of course,he's a possibility. No, I was thinking of Mr. Eberhardt, thestorekeeper."

  "The storekeeper! Now, Mary Lou, your ideas are running wild. Next thingyou'll be suspecting me!"

  "Maybe I do," laughed her chum. "No, but seriously--if Dad is working ona murder case, he always finds out immediately who profited by thevictim's death. That supplies a motive for the crime. Well, it's the samewith a fire. Didn't this storekeeper profit--by getting extrabusiness--because Flicks' burned down?"

  "Yes, he did," admitted the other girl. "But, on the other hand, itdidn't do him a bit of good for the Hunters' bungalow to be destroyed."

  "No, of course not. But, then, that may have been an accident."

  "Yet this Lemuel Adams might have been responsible for both fires. Heseems a lot guiltier to me. If he hated Mr. Hunter particularly, he'dnaturally burn his cottage first. Then he'd go about destroying all therest of Shady Nook."

  "Your reasoning sounds good to me, Jane," approved Mary Louise, her browneyes sparkling with excitement. "And we've got to make a call on Mr.Adams right away. This very afternoon!"

  "Not me," said Jane. "I'm going canoeing with Cliff Hunter."

  Mary Louise looked disappointed.

  "Suppose Watson had told Sherlock Holmes that he had a date with a girland couldn't go on an investigation with him when he was needed?"

  "Watson was only a man in a book who didn't make dates. I'm a real girlwho's full of life. I came up here for some fun, not just to be an oldcharacter in a detective story! And besides, Mary Lou, you have a datetoo. I heard you promise David McCall you'd go canoeing with him today."

  "I'm mad at David," objected Mary Louise. "He certainly made me furiouslast night."

  "What did he do?"

  Mary Louise frowned, but she did not tell Jane what the young man hadsaid about Cliff Hunter. No use getting her chum all excited, so shemerely shrugged her shoulders.

  "Oh, just some remarks he made," she replied. "But I really had forgottenall about the date. When did I promise him?"

  "Yesterday afternoon, before I went off with Cliff. Oh, come on, MaryLou! Go along with us. Let's pack a supper--it'll be easy with all thatfood we brought back from the store. Maybe your mother and Freckles willgo along."

  "No, I really can't, Jane. I don't want to be rude to you--you are myguest, I know--but honest, this is important. That I go see old Mr.Adams, I mean. If he has made up his mind to burn down the entiresettlement at Shady Nook, our cottage will be included. I've just got todo something to save it--and everybody else's. You know--Dad's countingon me!"

  "Yes, I understand how you feel, Mary Lou. But you may be allwrong--these two fires may just have been accidents--and then you'll bewasting your perfectly good vacation for nothing."

  "Oh, but I'm having fun! There's nothing I love better than a mystery.Only this one does scare me a little, because we may actually be involvedin it."

  "Well, you do whatever you want," Jane told her. "Just regard me as oneof the family, and I'll go my own way. I know everybody here now, and I'mhaving a grand time. Only don't forget you have David McCall to reckonwith about breaking that date!"

  They drove up to the back door of the cottage, and Freckles, who hadreturned home by this time, helped carry in the boxes. Mary Louise askedhim how he had made out with the Flicks.

  "Not so good," was the reply. "He's sore as anything. Still believes wehad something to do with starting the fire, though he admits he doesn
'tthink we did it on purpose. They're going away today."

  "Oh, that's too bad!" exclaimed Mary Louise. "I was hoping they wouldbuild some kind of shack and continue to serve meals."

  "Nope, they're not going to. They've decided to go right back to Albany,where they live in the winter."

  "Where are they now?" demanded Mary Louise. She realized that she musthurry if she meant to interview them before they left Shady Nook.

  "Mr. Flick's on his lot, and Mrs. Flick is over at the Partridges'. Theystayed there all night, you know, Sis."

  As soon as the supplies from the store were carefully stored away, thetwo girls walked over to the spot where the Flicks' Inn had stood. Thecharred remains were pitiful to see; the fire had been much harder on theFlicks than the Hunters' disaster had been for them, because theinnkeeper and his wife were poor. And what they made in the summer went along way toward supporting them all the year round. Mary Louise feltsorry for them, but nevertheless she resented their laying the blame uponher brother.

  The girls found Mr. Flick standing under a tree talking to some men inoveralls--working men, whom Mary Lou remembered seeing from time to timearound the hotel across the river.

  "May I talk with you for a moment, Mr. Flick?" inquired Mary Louise, asthe former turned around and spoke to her.

  "Yes, of course, Mary Louise," he replied. "I'll be with you in aminute."

  "You really don't think the boys are responsible, do you, Mr. Flick?" sheasked directly, when he joined the girls.

  "I don't know what to think," replied the man. "It may have been anaccident. That one servant girl we have is awfully careless."

  "Which one?"

  "Hattie Adams. The one who waits on your table and washes the dishes."

  "Hattie Adams!" repeated Mary Louise. "Lemuel Adams' daughter!"

  "Yes. And Tom Adams' sister." He lowered his voice. "That's Tom overthere--remember him?--he does odd jobs for both me and Fraziersometimes."

  Mary Louise nodded and glanced at the young man. He was a big fellow witha somewhat sullen expression. He looked something like Hattie.

  "How do you know Lem Adams?" inquired Mr. Flick.

  "I don't," replied Mary Louise quietly. "But the storekeeper over at FourCorners told me about him. How he used to own all this land and sold itcheap to Mr. Hunter. So he thinks maybe Mr. Adams is burning the cottagesto spite the Hunters."

  "But Hunter is dead!" objected Mr. Flick. "And it doesn't spite theHunters one bit, because they are fully insured. That's the worst of itfor me. My insurance only covers my mortgage--which Cliff Hunter happensto hold. I'm as good as wiped out."

  "Oh, I'm so sorry," said Mary Louise sympathetically.

  "Not half as sorry as I am." He scowled. "And when I get to Albany I'mgoing to hunt up a lawyer. If those Smith kids did it, their parents canpay for the damage!"

  "Oh, but they didn't!" protested Mary Louise.

  "It's too bad if your brother was in it too. But if he was, he ought tobe punished--though I blame that Robby Smith as the ringleader. Boys likethose aren't safe to have around. They don't have anybody to controlthem. They ought to be locked behind the walls of a reform school."

  There was nothing Mary Louise could say: the man was far too wrought upto listen to reason. So she and Jane merely nodded goodbye and turnedaway.

  They stopped at the Partridges' cottage to see Mrs. Flick and found hermuch calmer.

  "I blame the Adams girl," she said. "Hattie's so careless! And she wasthe last one at the inn. I never should have left her alone. But my otherwaitresses wanted to get back to their hometown, and they leftearly--before we did. So I can't lay the blame on them."

  "You really don't think the boys did it, do you, Mrs. Flick?" inquiredMary Louise anxiously.

  "No, I don't," was the reassuring reply, "even if my husband does!"

  "Thank goodness for that!" exclaimed the girl in relief. "Well, I'm goingto call on the Adams family this afternoon and find out all I can. I'llpump Hattie, and old Mr. Adams too."

  "Good luck to you, my dear!" concluded Mrs. Flick.