Back Aa

Mystery at Dark Cedars

Close

<h2 id="c2">CHAPTER II The Robbery</h2> The house in which Mary Louise’s family lived was as different from the Grants’ as day is from night. It was painted white, and its smooth green lawn was dotted here and there with bright flower beds. Modern, airy, and filled with sunshine, the house itself looked like the home of a happy family, which the Gays were—as their name implied. Mary Louise’s young brother—always called “Freckles”—was setting the breakfast table when she came downstairs the morning after her visit to Dark Cedars. It was Mary Louise’s task to put the bedding to air while her mother cooked breakfast. Mrs. Gay did not keep a maid, and both children did their share of the work. As they sat down to breakfast Mary Louise could not help contrasting her life with poor Elsie Grant’s. Thinking how different, how cheerful everything was here—though of course it was never quite the same when her father was away on a case, as so happened at the present time. Mary Louise wanted to do something to help Elsie, besides just visiting her. She had a sudden inspiration. <div class="pb" id="Page_27">[27]</div> “I have a lot of clothes, haven’t I, Mother?” she inquired as she spread marmalade on her toast. Mrs. Gay smiled. She was a pretty woman, with the same dark hair and dark eyes as her daughter. “I wouldn’t say that, dear,” she replied. “I think you have enough. But if there is something you specially want, I guess you can have it. Is that 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 couple of dresses, perhaps, and some lingerie. And a pair of slippers.” Mrs. Gay nodded approvingly. Being both a neat housekeeper and a charitable woman, she loved to clear things out and, if possible, give them to someone who could use them. “Yes,” she said. “I was thinking of making up a package to send to the Salvation Army today. That old blue sweater of yours could go, and the red woolen dress——” <div class="pb" id="Page_28">[28]</div> “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 green flowered silk, for instance, and my pink linen. May I?” “Why, Mary Louise! I thought you especially liked those dresses. What’s the matter with them?” “Nothing. I do like them a lot. That’s why I chose them. I want to give them 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 at Dark Cedars. About a mile out of town.” Her mother nodded. “Yes, I know where you mean, dear. But that woman is reputed to be rich—much better off than we are. I can’t understand——” “Of course you can’t, Mother, unless you see poor Elsie Grant. She’s about my age—a year younger, to be exact—and she’s an orphan. Two years ago, when her mother died, she came to live with Miss Grant because she hadn’t anywhere to go and no money. And the old lady treats her shamefully. Dresses her in those old calico dresses that servants used to wear years ago. So Elsie can’t go anywhere, not even to school.” <div class="pb" id="Page_29">[29]</div> Mrs. Gay’s lips closed tightly, and her eyes narrowed. “So that’s the kind of woman Miss Grant is!” she muttered. “I always knew she was queer, but I never thought she was cruel.... Yes, of course you can give the girl some clothing, dear. Go pick out anything you want, except those brand-new things we bought last week for our trip in August.” Mary Louise lost no time in making her selection. She piled the clothing on her bed, after she had put her room in order, and called her mother in for her approval. But before tying up the package she whistled for Jane from her window. Her chum came running across the grass that grew between the two houses and bounded up the steps. Briefly Mary Louise explained what she was doing. “But I want to give Elsie something too,” Jane said. “She ought to have some kind of summer coat and a hat. Wait till I ask Mother.” She returned in less than five minutes bringing a lovely white wool coat and a white felt hat to match it. Mary Louise tied up the bundle. “Please ask Freckles to take care of Silky this morning, Mother,” she said. “I’m afraid that perhaps Miss Grant might not like him.” <div class="pb" id="Page_30">[30]</div> The girls started off immediately through the streets of Riverside to the lonely road that led to Dark Cedars. “I sort of wish we had Silky with us,” observed Jane as they approached the house. “He is a protection.” Mary Louise laughed. “But there isn’t anything to protect us from! Elsie said nothing ever happened in the daytime.” A stifled sob coming from under the cedar trees caused the girls to stop abruptly and peer in among the low branches. There, half concealed by the thick 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 Mary Louise and Jane came nearest to being her friends of all the people in the world. “Aunt Mattie has been robbed,” she said. “And—everybody thinks I did it!” “You!” cried Jane. “Oh, how awful!” <div class="pb" id="Page_31">[31]</div> The girls sat down on the ground beside her and asked her to tell them all about it. The bundle of clothing was forgotten for the time being in this 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 are always closing, so all her money is in this safe. I’ve often heard Aunt Grace try to make Aunt Mattie stop hoarding, but Aunt Mattie always refuses. 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 morning after 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 she buys some food, especially in winter. But we have a garden, you know, and chickens and a cow.” “When did she miss this money?” <div class="pb" id="Page_32">[32]</div> “This morning. It was there yesterday. Aunt Mattie counted it right after you girls went home. You can hear her say the figures out loud and sort of chuckle to herself. But today she just let out a scream. It was horrible! I thought she was dying.” “Maybe it was taken last night,” said Mary Louise. “Did you hear any of those queer noises—I mean the kind you heard before, when you thought somebody 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 might have entered over the front porch roof, through Aunt Mattie’s window. But she’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 a reform 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 no proof ... I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Elsie! I’ll put my father on the case when he comes home! He’s a detective on the police force, and he’s just wonderful. He’ll find the real thief.” <div class="pb" id="Page_33">[33]</div> Elsie shook her head. “No, I’m afraid you can’t do that. Because Aunt Mattie distinctly said that she won’t have the police meddling in this. She says that if I didn’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 in Riverside. She has three grown-up children and one grandchild. Aunt Mattie says one of these relatives is guilty, if I’m not, and she’ll find out herself, without bringing shame upon the Grant name.” Mary Louise groaned. “The only thing I can see for us to do, then, is to be detectives ourselves. 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 spookiness at night,” she amended. “Those mysterious sounds you told us about, Elsie——” “They may all have some connection with this robbery,” announced Mary Louise. “And I’d like to find out!” Elsie looked doubtful. <div class="pb" id="Page_34">[34]</div> “I only hope Aunt Mattie doesn’t try the bread-and-water diet on me, to get a confession. Really, you have no idea how awful that is till you try it. You just get crazy for some real food. You’d be almost willing to lie to 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’ll bring 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 think did 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 if a burglar had entered the house, somebody, probably Aunt Mattie, would have wakened up.” “Couldn’t he have entered before your aunt went to bed?” suggested Mary Louise. “Maybe. But Aunt Mattie was on the front porch all evening, and she’d probably have heard him.” “All right, then,” agreed Mary Louise. “Let’s drop the idea of the burglar for the time being. Let’s hear about the family—your aunt Grace’s family, I mean.” <div class="pb" id="Page_35">[35]</div> She reached into her pocket and took out a pencil and notebook, which she had provided for the purpose of writing down any items of clothing that Elsie might particularly want. Instead of that, she would list the possible suspects, the way her father usually did when he was working on a murder case. “Go ahead,” she said. “I’m ready now. Tell me how many brothers and sisters your aunt Mattie had, and everything else you can.” “Aunt Mattie had only two brothers, and not any sisters at all. My father was one brother, and Aunt Grace’s husband was the other. They’re both dead.” “Then your aunt Grace isn’t your aunt Mattie’s real sister?” inquired Jane. “No. But Aunt Mattie seems to like her better than any of her blood relations, even if she is only a sister-in-law. She comes over here pretty often.” “Maybe she took the money.” Elsie looked shocked. “Not Aunt Grace! She’s too religious. Always going to church and talking about right and wrong. She even argued with Aunt Mattie to let me go to Sunday school, but Aunt Mattie wouldn’t buy me a decent dress.” At the mention of clothing, Jane reached for the package they had carried with them to Dark Cedars, but Mary Louise shook her head, signalling her to wait until Elsie had finished. <div class="pb" id="Page_36">[36]</div> “Well, anyway, Aunt Mattie’s father liked her better than her two brothers, and he promised to leave her his money if she wouldn’t get married 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 Aunt Mattie, and Aunt Mattie hated her. So it’s no wonder I’m not welcome here!” Mary Louise called Elsie back to her facts by tapping her pencil on her notebook. “So far I have only one relative written down,” she said. “That’s your aunt Grace. Please go on.” “As I told you, I think,” Elsie continued immediately, “Aunt Grace has three 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 is married.” “How old are they?” <div class="pb" id="Page_37">[37]</div> “All about forty, I guess. I don’t know. Middle-aged—no, I guess you wouldn’t call Harry middle-aged. He’s the youngest. Except, of course, the granddaughter—Mrs. Pearson’s only child. She’s a girl about eighteen or nineteen.” “What’s her name?” “Corinne—Corinne Pearson.” “Is that everybody?” asked Mary Louise. “I mean, all the living relatives of Miss Mattie Grant?” “Yes, that’s all.” Mary Louise read her list aloud, just to make sure that she had gotten the 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 new clothes.” The girl’s eyes lighted up with joy. “Honestly? Oh, that’s wonderful! Let me see them!” <div class="pb" id="Page_38">[38]</div> Mary Louise untied the package and held the things up for Elsie to look at. The girl’s expression was one of positive rapture. A silk dress! In the latest style! And the kind of soft wooly coat she had always dreamed of possessing! A hat that was a real hat—not one of those outlandish sunbonnets her aunt Mattie made her wear! Dainty lingerie—and a pair of white shoes! “Oh, it’s too much!” she cried. “I couldn’t take them! They’re your best things—I know they are.” And once again her eyes filled with tears. “We have other nice clothes,” Mary Louise assured her. “And our mothers said it was all right. So you must take them: we’d be hurt if you didn’t.” “Honestly?” The girl looked as if she could not believe there was so much goodness 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 that nobody can see me. And if I went into the house they might not let me out again to show you.” <div class="pb" id="Page_39">[39]</div> With trembling fingers she pulled off her shoes and stockings, and the old calico dress she was wearing, and put on the silk slip and the green flowered dress. Then the white stockings and the slippers, which fitted beautifully. And last of all, the coat. Her eyes were sparkling now, and her feet were taking little dancing steps 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 naturally curly, isn’t it? But you have it drawn back so tightly you can scarcely see any wave.” “I’d like to wear it like yours, Mary Louise,” replied the orphan wistfully. “But it’s too long, and I have no money for barbers or beauty parlors.” “We’ll see what we can do next time we come,” answered Mary Louise. “But let’s loosen it up a bit now and put your knot down low on your neck so that the hat will fit.” Deftly she fluffed it out a little at the sides and pinned it in a modish style. Then she put the little white felt hat on Elsie’s head at just the correct angle and stepped back to survey the transformed girl with pride. “You’re positively a knockout, Elsie!” she exclaimed in delight. “Take my word for it, you’re going to be a big hit in Riverside.” She chuckled to herself. “We’ll all lose our boy-friends when they see you!” <div class="pb" id="Page_40">[40]</div> “Oh no!” protested Elsie seriously. “You are really beautiful, Mary Louise! And so clever and good. And so is Jane.” Both girls smiled at Elsie’s extravagant praise. Then Mary Louise turned back to her notebook. “I’d like to hear more about yesterday,” she said: “whether you think any of these five relatives had a chance to steal that money.” “They all had a chance,” answered Elsie. “They were all here—and all up in Aunt Mattie’s room at some time or other during the day or evening!” <div class="pb" id="Page_41">[41]</div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2