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Mystery at Dark Cedars

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<h2 id="c12">CHAPTER XII Bound and Gagged</h2> “How was your fortune, Mary Louise?” inquired Max, as the former emerged from the gypsy’s tent and joined the merry group in the field. “Did she say you’d marry a tall, good-looking fellow, with lots of personality?” Mary Louise laughed. “No, she didn’t. I guess I’m going to be an old maid.” “Then you’re the only one,” remarked Hope. “All the rest of us get rich husbands and trips around the world.” Elsie came up close to Mary Louise and whispered in her ear. “She told me to leave Dark Cedars,” she said. “How do you suppose she knew that I lived there?” “Must have seen you around, I suppose,” replied Mary Louise. “She warned me to get out too, but then I told her I was staying there.... But don’t tell Jane, Elsie. She’d go in a minute if she heard that.” <div class="pb" id="Page_157">[157]</div> “Hadn’t we better all go—till Aunt Mattie gets back from the hospital? Wouldn’t your mother let me stay at your house if I worked for my board?” “Of course she would. You wouldn’t have to work any more than I do—just help Mother a little. But I promised your aunt I’d live at her place and sleep in her bed, and I’m going to stay. There’s some explanation for all this superstition about Dark Cedars, and I mean to find it out!” “Stop whispering secrets!” commanded Max Miller, separating the two girls forcibly. “Of course, Ken and I know you’re talking about us, and what you’re saying is probably complimentary.” Elsie laughed and followed Mary Louise into the car. The group drove to Hope Dorsey’s, as she had suggested, and ate the rest of the picnic food for their supper. Another round of fun followed, and it was after ten when the party finally broke up. Dropping Kenneth Dormer at his own home, Max ran the three girls back to Dark Cedars. “Don’t you think I better go into the house and light the lamps for you?” he inquired. “It looks so spooky in there.” “Oh, we have Silky for protection,” returned Mary Louise lightly. “Thank you just the same, Max.” <div class="pb" id="Page_158">[158]</div> The young man waited, however, until he saw the girls unlock the front door and light the lamp in the hall. “Everything’s O.K.!” shouted Mary Louise. “We’ll be asleep inside of ten minutes.” Max waved back again and started his engine. Elsie lighted two more lamps which Hannah had left in readiness for the girls, and all together, with Silky at their heels, they mounted the creaking staircase. “You can’t sleep upstairs, Silky!” said Mary Louise to her dog. “Miss Grant would never allow that. Go down to your box in the cellar.” The spaniel seemed to understand, for he stood still, wagging his tail and looking pleadingly at his mistress. “I think it’s a shame to send him off by himself,” remarked Jane. “So do I,” agreed Mary Louise. “But it’s got to be done. He’d get up on the bed, as likely as not—the way he does at home. And just imagine what Miss Grant would think of that! Her precious bed!” Turning about, she led the little dog to the cellar, and there, in a box next to the kitten’s, he settled down to sleep. When she returned the girls were waiting for her in Miss Grant’s bedroom. “How do we sleep tonight?” inquired Elsie. <div class="pb" id="Page_159">[159]</div> “Oh, you can have Jane again if you want her,” agreed Mary Louise. “It doesn’t make any difference to me.” The younger girl was delighted. “Only,” added Mary Louise, “if you expect to do any prowling around tonight, please shout your presence in the room.” “I expect to go right to sleep,” replied Elsie. “With Jane beside me, I’ll feel safe.” Mary Louise smiled and kissed her goodnight. In many ways Elsie Grant seemed like a child to her, in spite of her fifteen years. Alone in the room, she undressed quickly, hanging her clothing on a chair, for she could not bring herself to use that big, old closet, filled with Miss Grant’s things. She was very tired, and, thankful that the night was so much cooler than the preceding one, she blew out the lamp and crawled into bed. The utter blackness of the room was rather appalling, even to a courageous girl like Mary Louise. Accustomed as she was to the street lights of Riverside, the darkness was thick and strange, for the denseness of the trees about Dark Cedars shut out even the sky, with its stars, from the windows. But Mary Louise closed her eyes immediately, resolved not to let anything so trivial bother her. <div class="pb" id="Page_160">[160]</div> The girls in the attic had quieted down; the house was in absolute silence. Mary Louise, too, lay very still. Listening.... She almost believed that she heard somebody breathing! “But that’s absurd!” she reprimanded herself sharply. “It couldn’t be a ghost, as Hannah insists, for ghosts don’t breathe. And it couldn’t be a robber trying to get into the house, or Silky would be barking. That dog has keen ears.” She turned over and put the thought out of her mind by recalling the high lights of the picnic, and soon dozed off. But she knew that she had not been asleep long when she was suddenly awakened by the low, squeaking creak of a door. Thinking it was probably Elsie, restless after too much picnic food, Mary Louise opened her eyes and peered about in the darkness. Now she heard that breathing distinctly—and something big and dark seemed to be moving towards her, something blacker than the darkness of the room. No face was visible to her until the figure bent over close to her in the bed. Then she beheld two gleaming eyes! <div class="pb" id="Page_161">[161]</div> She opened her lips to scream, but at the same instant a thin hand was clapped over her mouth, making utterance impossible. Both her hands were caught and held in an iron grip, and a bag was pulled over her head and tied so tightly under her chin that she believed she would choke. Mary Louise could see nothing now, but she felt a rope being twisted around her body, tying her arms to her sides. In another second she was lifted bodily and tossed roughly into Miss Grant’s closet.... The key was turned in the lock. In wild desperation Mary Louise tried to shout, but the thickness and tightness of the bag over her head muffled the sound, and the closet walls closed it in. The girls in the attic would never hear her, for they were at the back of the house, and probably sleeping soundly. So she abandoned the effort, and became quiet, twisting her hands about under the rope, and listening to the sounds from the room. Whoever, whatever it was that had attacked her was moving about stealthily, making a queer noise that sounded like the tearing of a garment. For a brief moment the thought of Corinne Pearson jumped into her mind. Had the girl come here to get revenge on Mary Louise for disclosing her guilt, and was she tearing her clothes to pieces? <div class="pb" id="Page_162">[162]</div> But such an explanation was too absurd to be possible. It couldn’t be Corinne—she was at that dance with Ned Mason. But it might be Harry Grant, searching for that precious possession of his aunt Mattie’s—that ruby necklace, if the gypsy was correct.... But, no, Mary Louise did not believe it was Harry—or any man. Something about the motion of the figure, the touch of its hands, proclaimed it to be feminine.... She thought of that ghost Hannah had described, the spirit of dead Mrs. Grant, looking for the hidden treasure, and she shuddered. The tearing and ripping was becoming more pronounced. Mary Louise listened more intently, still twisting her hands about in an effort to free them. She heard a chair being moved away from the window, and the screen being taken away.... She twisted her hands again.... Her right hand—was free! In spite of her terror, Mary Louise almost sang out with joy. The next sound she heard was a dear, familiar noise, a sound that sent a thrill through her whole body. It was the infuriated bark of her little dog Silky from the cellar. <div class="pb" id="Page_163">[163]</div> Mary Louise lost no time in freeing her other hand and in untying the knot about her chin which fastened the bag over her head. She was free at last—as far as her limbs were concerned. But she was still locked securely in Miss Grant’s closet. Through the crack of the door she perceived a streak of light; the intruder had not worked in darkness. But in a second it was extinguished, and she heard a noise at the window. Then—utter blackness and silence again! Mary Louise raised her voice now and screamed at the top of her lungs. She was rewarded by the sound of hurrying footsteps and the incessant bark of her dog, coming nearer and nearer. In another moment she heard the girls in the room and saw the gleam of a flashlight through the crack. “I’m locked in the closet!” she shouted. “Let me out, Jane!” Her chum turned the key in the door. Thank heaven, it was still there! Blinded by the light from the flash, Mary Louise staggered out. “What happened?” demanded Jane, her face deathly pale with terror. Mary Louise stumbled towards the bed. “No bones broken, thank goodness!” she exclaimed, sitting down carefully upon the bed. But she jumped up immediately. <div class="pb" id="Page_164">[164]</div> “What’s happened to this bed?” she demanded. “It’s full of pins and needles!” Her chum turned the flashlight upon the ugly piece of furniture, and Mary Louise perceived at once the explanation of the ripping sound she had heard. The bed clothing was literally torn to pieces; the mattress was cut in a dozen places, and straw strewn all over the floor. No wonder it felt sharp to sit down on! “So the ruby necklace was hidden in the bed!” she muttered. “What ruby necklace?” demanded Jane. “That’s what the gypsy said Miss Grant was treasuring so carefully. She probably just made a guess at it—to seem wise. It may be a diamond ring, for all I know.... Anyhow, somebody stole it. Who could it have been?” “Tell us exactly what happened,” begged Jane. Briefly Mary Louise told the grim story. Elsie had lighted the lamp, and the girls sat about on chairs, listening intently. Silky, who had stopped barking now, climbed into his mistress’s lap. “Funny Elsie didn’t hear you try to scream the first time,” remarked Jane. “She was awake.” “You were?” asked Mary Louise. “What time is it?” <div class="pb" id="Page_165">[165]</div> “It’s only quarter-past eleven,” answered Elsie. “I couldn’t go to sleep—too much chocolate cake and apple pie, I suppose.” “It was Silky who waked me up,” said Jane. “I heard him barking. And I looked for Elsie and saw she wasn’t in bed. So I thought he was just barking at her, prowling around the house.” Mary Louise opened her eyes wide. “Where were you, Elsie?” “I—was down in the kitchen, getting some baking soda.” She burst into tears. “You don’t think I did that fiendish thing, do you, Mary Louise?” “No, of course not.” But Mary Louise knew that Miss Grant would not be so ready to accept her niece’s innocence. “We better make a tour of the house,” she suggested, standing up and going over to the window, where she noticed that the screen was out, lying on the floor. “I think the intruder must have gotten out this way.” “But that’s not the window with the porch underneath,” objected Jane. “No, but he could have used a ladder,” returned Mary Louise. The girls slipped coats over their pajamas and put on their shoes. With Silky close at their heels, they went downstairs and out the front door, around to the side of the house. <div class="pb" id="Page_166">[166]</div> The first thing that they spied was a ladder, lying on the ground perpendicular to the wall. “That’s William’s ladder,” announced Elsie. “He often leaves it around. It seems to me he had it out yesterday, nailing up a board on the porch roof.” “If only we could find some footprints,” said Mary Louise, flashing her light on the ground. But she could see no marks. If the intruder had made off that way, he had been wise enough to walk over the rounds of the ladder. And everywhere cedar needles covered the ground, making footprints almost impossible. “Wait till Aunt Mattie hears about this!” sobbed Elsie. “It’ll be the end of me.” “We won’t tell her till she gets better,” decided Mary Louise. “Maybe by that time we’ll discover a clue that will help us solve the mystery.” “Oh, I hope so!” breathed the young girl fervently. All this time, however, Jane said nothing. But she was watching Elsie closely, as if she was beginning to believe that she might be guilty. “Let’s go to bed,” concluded Mary Louise when the tour of inspection was finished. “I’m going to sleep in Hannah’s room—and I’m going to keep Silky with me this time.” <div class="pb" id="Page_167">[167]</div> “I wish you had taken that precaution before,” sighed Jane. “So do I. But it’s too late now. Let’s get some sleep, for tomorrow we have to get to work—and work fast!” <div class="pb" id="Page_168">[168]</div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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