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Mystery of the Fires

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<h2 id="c9">CHAPTER IX The Arrest</h2> When the girls came home from the fire that night they found Mrs. Gay and Freckles both awake and dressed. The boy was pleading with his mother to be allowed to go to the Smiths’. “The fire’s out,” announced Jane, sinking wearily into the swing on the porch. “Mary Lou passed out for a few minutes, too.” Mrs. Gay uttered an exclamation of alarm. “Oh, but I’m all right now, Mother,” her daughter hastened to assure her. “Only I would like something hot to drink. And my own bed to sleep in, if Freckles doesn’t mind changing again.” “A hot drink?” repeated her brother, in amazement. “Why hot?” Briefly Jane told the story of Mary Louise’s daring act of heroism, and Mrs. Gay hurried off to make her daughter comfortable for the night. <div class="pb" id="Page_115">[115]</div> In their own soft bed again, the girls slept soundly until nearly noon the following day. Mary Louise was vexed with herself for wasting so much time when she saw the lateness of the hour. For if she was to do anything about solving the mystery of the fires she hadn’t a single minute to lose. “Have you heard any news this morning?” she demanded of her brother as the family all ate their breakfast-lunch together. “Not much,” replied the boy. “We went over to see the place, of course, as soon as we were up this morning. It must have been some fire! What’s left of the house isn’t fit to live in.... Gee, Sis, you and Jane were lucky to be in on it!” “Lucky for the Smiths!” amended Mrs. Gay. “I shudder every time I think of what might have happened to little Ethel.” “Where are the Smiths now?” inquired Jane. “Moved over to the hotel. The chauffeur telegraphed Mr. Smith, and he and Mrs. Smith are coming this afternoon, with clothes and stuff.” “Did you see the boys this morning?” questioned Mary Louise. “Yeah,” replied the boy. “I took the canoe across the river, where they were in swimming early, with the chauffeur.” “And couldn’t they tell you anything more about the fire?” <div class="pb" id="Page_116">[116]</div> “Nope. Robby said he never wakened up till he heard the chauffeur yelling at them. Then they all grabbed their clothes and ran. The nurse was sleeping in the same room with little Ethel, and she saw to it that the kid got out safely.” “And she went back for her dolly!” whispered Mrs. Gay, with a catch in her voice. “Mother, please stop thinking about that!” begged Mary Louise. “Everything came out all right—so do try to forget it.” “I will, dear. But I think I’ve had enough of Shady Nook for one summer. I’ve about decided to pack up and go home tomorrow.” “Oh, no!” protested Mary Louise, aghast. “We can’t—run away!” “If only your father were here, he’d find out what’s the cause of all these disasters. But I feel so unsafe—so helpless without him!” “I’m going to find out!” announced Mary Louise, with determination in her voice. “Just stay a little while, till we have a chance to see what develops!” “I won’t promise. By the way, I’ve decided that we’ll all go over to the Royal Hotel for dinner tonight. It will be a nice change—and you girls can dance afterwards, because practically everybody from Shady Nook eats there now.” <div class="pb" id="Page_117">[117]</div> “Everybody except the Ditmars,” said Mary Louise, with a significant look at Jane. She said nothing further about the young couple now, but an hour later, when the two girls were getting into their bathing suits, she mentioned the Ditmars again. “I’ve come to the conclusion that the criminal, the person responsible for the fires, is one of two people,” she said, “with the possible chance of a third.” “You suspect Horace Ditmar, of course?” asked Jane. “Yes. I think everything points to him. First, he has the motive. To get work for himself—to plan new houses to take the place of those that have been destroyed. If you’ve noticed, Jane, the three places that have been burned have all been big, expensive ones. The finest at Shady Nook! The Smiths and the Hunters are rich people, well able to afford to rebuild. And Flicks’ was such a flourishing business that anybody would naturally expect them to want to start it up again. <div class="pb" id="Page_118">[118]</div> “Next, Horace Ditmar had the opportunity. He was absent from the two parties which were going on when the Hunters’ and Flicks’ places burned, and he could easily have slipped out last night and set Smiths’ on fire. “And last—and most important of all, Dad often says—Ditmar’s the kind of man who could do it. Quiet, almost sullen, I think, and deceitful. I’ve never spoken two words with him, but that’s my opinion.” Jane nodded solemnly: her chum’s logic appeared sound. “But still,” she remarked, “Horace Ditmar isn’t profiting any by these fires. Nobody seems a bit inclined to rebuild.” “No. Not yet. But wait till the Smiths come, and see whether Horace Ditmar tries to chum up with them. You know Adelaide Ditmar admitted that they went over to call on Mrs. Hunter after their fire and the woman almost snubbed her.” “True.... Who’s your other suspect, Mary Lou? Is it—Cliff?” “No. Positively not Cliff! In spite of that pack of cards they found over there last night. Imagine Cliff Hunter setting fire to a house that had three children asleep in it! It’s unthinkable.” <div class="pb" id="Page_119">[119]</div> Jane breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad to hear you say that,” she said. “The other person I suspect strongly is Rebecca Adams,” continued the young detective. “I hate to, for she seems harmless, but you just never can tell about a half-witted person like that. She wanders around at such queer times, and then her coming here last night, after predicting a fire in the afternoon, looks bad. She’s got to be watched.” “Right again,” agreed the other girl admiringly. “But go on, ‘Spencer Dean’! Who’s your third suspect—the one you called a possible chance?” “The hotelkeeper, Frazier. It’s meant a lot to his business. He has the motive all right, but I just can’t see how he could have actually accomplished setting the places on fire. He was with us all evening the night Flicks’ burned down, and Cliff says he was at the hotel when the Hunters’ cottage burned. Still, Frazier’s sly. He might have managed it.” “I’ll have to take a good look at him tonight when we go over to dinner,” observed Jane, “and try to size up his character.” Mary Louise reached for her beach robe and stepped into her slippers. <div class="pb" id="Page_120">[120]</div> “Come on, Jane,” she said. “We’ve got to hurry, or the crowd will go home before we get there.” They ran out to the canoe and jumped in, paddling down the river half a mile to the spot which was generally accepted as the best swimming place near Shady Nook. Here they found about twenty-five people gathered on the shore, all talking in the wildest excitement. And not a single person was in the water! “What’s happened?” demanded Jane. “Anybody drowned?” “Another fire?” asked Mary Louise. “Neither,” explained Sue Reed, turning to the newcomers. “But something almost as bad. A detective arrived from Albany and arrested Cliff Hunter! As an incendiary, I believe he said. A person who sets things on fire.” “No!” gasped Jane in horror. “But how could he?” cried Mary Louise incredulously. “I mean, how could a detective from Albany know about the fires here at Shady Nook—let alone suspect Cliff?” “Somebody wired,” said Sue. “Who?” demanded both girls in the same breath. <div class="pb" id="Page_121">[121]</div> Nobody seemed to be able to answer that question. All anyone knew was that Cliff had gone off in the detective’s car and that his mother had insisted upon going with him. Mrs. Hunter was positive that it was all a put-up job, a plot of some kind to kidnap her son. The talking died down at last, and the crowd dispersed into the water. But nobody seemed to enjoy the swim that day. Discouraged and worried, Mary Louise and Jane decided to paddle back home in their canoe. “All your detective work gone for nothing!” lamented Jane miserably. “I’d just like to know, who’s responsible for that arrest! It was such a dirty trick. I wonder if it was one of the Smiths’ servants.” “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out tonight,” returned Mary Louise. “Thank goodness we’re going to the Royal to dinner, where we’ll see everybody! Keep your eyes and ears open, Jane.” As soon as the girls reached their cottage they told Mrs. Gay the startling news about Cliff Hunter. She was as much distressed as they were over the announcement, for she had known the young man so long that he seemed almost like a son. And, like the girls, she was positive of his innocence. <div class="pb" id="Page_122">[122]</div> “Let’s get dressed early and go over to the hotel. Maybe we can find out something there,” she suggested. “That’s just what we’re hoping,” replied Jane. “And believe me, if we find that the Smith chauffeur is responsible—or that sneaky Frazier——” “It wasn’t Mr. Frazier, I can assure you,” interrupted Mary Louise. “He’ll be losing money without the Hunters and their friends. No—but maybe——” “Maybe what?” “Nothing. No use of making guesses in the dark. We’ll wait and see.” The girls went into their room to dress. Mary Louise was surprised to see Jane take a simple white voile out of the closet. “Why, Jane, we’re going to the Royal Hotel! To dine and dance. Don’t you want to wear your pink georgette?” Her chum shook her head. “No. White’s more appropriate for the way I feel tonight. I’m not in a party mood. Maybe I’d wear black, if I had it!” Mary Louise lowered her voice. “Do you care that much about Cliff, Jane?” she asked seriously. <div class="pb" id="Page_123">[123]</div> “I don’t know about that part of it, Mary Lou—but I do feel dreadfully. Cliff was always so care-free and happy—just like a child with his card tricks. And then for somebody to pounce down on him like that and carry him off without any chance to defend himself——” “Don’t worry about that, Jane,” interrupted Mary Louise. “Don’t forget that the Hunters are rich, and Mrs. Hunter will hire the best lawyer in the whole state of New York to defend him.” “Well, that’s comforting! But, just the same, it was a mean trick. And I’m going to miss Cliff dreadfully.... By the way, where was David McCall today? I didn’t see him in swimming.” Mary Louise frowned. “Neither did I,” she muttered. Jane swung about sharply. “Mary Lou, you think David sent that wire, don’t you?” she demanded. “I’m trying not to think so!” responded her chum. “But we’ll find out tonight.” The girls were ready in a few minutes, but they waited for Mrs. Gay and Freckles. They had expected to go across the river in the canoes, but Stuart Robinson stopped in to invite them to join their family in the motorboat, so that there was further delay. Instead of getting off early, the party did not leave until after six. <div class="pb" id="Page_124">[124]</div> Naturally, everybody talked of the arrest on the way over, but none of the Robinsons knew who was responsible for it. Stuart blamed it upon the Smiths’ servants. When they reached the porch of the hotel, they found it deserted. Everybody ate early at the resort. The large dining room, with its pale yellow walls, its long screened windows, and its snow-white tables, was certainly a pleasant-looking place. The floors were of polished hardwood, so that when these same tables were removed the room was fine for dancing. The space was ample, too, for it was intended to accommodate a couple of hundred people at a meal. Tonight it looked fairly well filled, with all the guests from Shady Nook in addition to the regular diners. Mr. Frazier himself came up and found two tables for the Gays and the Robinsons. The little man looked happy and confident tonight, pleased, no doubt, that business was more flourishing. “Is David McCall here, Mr. Frazier?” asked Jane abruptly. <div class="pb" id="Page_125">[125]</div> “Yes,” was the reply. “He’s sitting with the Smiths this evening. Mr. and Mrs. Smith arrived this afternoon.” “Thank you,” answered Jane, without going into any explanation. Mary Louise smiled. “Nothing like going right to the point, Jane,” she remarked when the hotelkeeper had turned away. “I mean to ask David point-blank! I hope I can make him ashamed of himself, if he did cause Cliff’s arrest!” “I’m afraid you can’t do that,” put in Mrs. Gay wisely. “These self-righteous people who feel that it is their duty to tell on others——” She stopped, wondering whether she was hurting Mary Louise’s feelings by speaking thus about David McCall, but her daughter was scarcely listening. “I think he’ll come over to see us,” Mrs. Gay concluded as she gave her order to the waitress, “with the Smiths.” Mrs. Gay was correct in her surmise: when the Smiths had finished their dinner, they came straight to the Gays’ table. Mrs. Smith, a well-dressed woman of perhaps thirty-five—though she looked much younger—put her hand on Mary Louise’s arm. <div class="pb" id="Page_126">[126]</div> “I can never thank you enough for saving my baby, Mary Louise,” she said. “All my life I’ll be grateful to you!” Mary Louise smiled. “I’m thankful I was there in time, Mrs. Smith,” she said. “Ethel is such a darling.” “I wish we could do something for you, Mary Lou,” put in her husband. “Can’t you think of something you want?” He was too well bred to offer her a reward in money, the way old Miss Mattie Grant at Dark Cedars had done. “All I want is to find out who really did start that fire at your house,” replied the girl. “Because I’m sure Cliff Hunter didn’t!” She was staring past Mrs. Smith right at David McCall as she said this, with scorn in her eyes. Jane couldn’t keep quiet any longer. She turned angrily to the young man. “Are you responsible for Cliff’s arrest, David McCall?” she demanded. “I am,” he stated calmly. “I did it to protect our insurance company. It just happens that our company holds most of the insurance up here at Shady Nook. And they’ve paid enough already—or will pay. So I don’t want any more fires. It’s my duty to protect their interests.” <div class="pb" id="Page_127">[127]</div> “Oh, yeah?” retorted Jane, hot with fury. “Well, you’re not doing it! Cliff Hunter never started those fires, and you’ll find out soon he’s innocent!” “How?” demanded David. “There will be another fire, just the same. We haven’t got the guilty person yet. I know it!” Mrs. Gay shuddered. “Oh, I hope not!” she exclaimed. “But I believe we’ll go home tomorrow.” “We’re planning to stay on here at the Royal while we see about repairing the damage,” said Mrs. Smith. “But if it isn’t safe——” “I guess the hotel’s safe enough,” put in her husband. “It’s practically fireproof.” David turned nonchalantly to Mary Louise. “Will you dance with me after supper, Mary Lou?” he asked. “It’s my last night here. I’m going to Albany tomorrow.” “I don’t believe I care to dance,” replied the girl icily—to Jane’s infinite delight. “Jane and I are going to stay with Mother this evening.” The party moved on, and Jane reached for her chum’s hand under the table. “That’s telling him!” she murmured in deep satisfaction. <div class="pb" id="Page_128">[128]</div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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