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Mystery of the Fires

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<h2 id="c11">CHAPTER XI Adelaide Ditmar’s Plan</h2> “There are four new young men at the Royal,” announced Jane as she set the table for lunch after their swim that morning. “Who? How do you know?” demanded Mary Louise. “Sue Reed told me. She says they used to come to Flicks’ every summer for two weeks’ vacation. So instead they are staying one week at the Royal Hotel. I don’t know their names.” Her chum nodded. “I know now. I can’t think of their names either, but they’ll probably come to me. They’re Harrisburg people.... But, Jane, how can you take an interest in men when your own boy-friend is in such trouble? Last night you seemed so sad!” “You can’t be sad all the time,” replied the other girl. “It doesn’t help Cliff any. Besides, I wasn’t engaged to him, so I can get a kick out of meeting new men. Can’t you, Mary Lou?” <div class="pb" id="Page_140">[140]</div> “I don’t believe I can at the present moment. I’ve too much else to think about. But what do you want me to do about them, Jane? Have a party and invite them over?” “Oh no, nothing like that. Sue asked me to come to her cottage this afternoon to meet them. She said to tell you to come along, in case she didn’t see you to invite you herself.” “You go by yourself.” Mary Louise set a plate of chicken salad on the table. “It does look good, doesn’t it?” she remarked—“if I do say it myself!” “Yum! Yum!” agreed Jane. “But what makes you think you don’t want to go over to the Reeds’ with me?” “Because—I have other plans for this afternoon.” “The mystery of the fires!” cried Jane, rolling her eyes. “Oh, Mary Lou, forget it for a while and have some fun!” “No, I can’t. I’ve got to have a talk with the Ditmars.” “You better stay away from them!” warned Jane. “You never can tell what that man might do if he got desperate!” <div class="pb" id="Page_141">[141]</div> Nevertheless, Mary Louise was firm in her resolution not to join the young people, and she was thankful that she had stayed home, for no sooner had Jane gone to the Reeds’ and her mother to the Partridges’ than Mrs. Ditmar herself came to the Gays’ bungalow! “Oh, Mary Louise, I’m so glad to find you alone!” exclaimed the young woman. “Have you any engagement, or can I talk to you for a while?” “I haven’t a thing to do but knit,” replied Mary Louise, smiling to herself. “Jane has gone over to the Reeds’ to dance, but I was sort of tired, so I thought I’d just take it easy. And I’ll be delighted to have you, Adelaide.” She addressed Mrs. Ditmar by her first name, for though she had a prefix of “Mrs.,” she was, after all, hardly more than a girl. And Mary Louise wanted to make her feel at home. “Oh, thank you!” replied the visitor, sinking into a chair with a sigh of content. “You see, I haven’t any friends up here at Shady Nook,” she explained. “Nothing’s turned out right. I thought Horace and I would have a lovely time with the young people—belong to the crowd and have lots of fun. But everybody avoids us. It’s all Horace’s fault, of course, for people were friendly at first. But when you repeatedly turn down invitations and are grouchy when you do go anywhere, naturally nobody invites you again.” <div class="pb" id="Page_142">[142]</div> “It’s a wicked shame—for you, I mean!” exclaimed Mary Louise. “And yet I can’t blame Horace entirely. It’s circumstances. Nothing turned out right,” she repeated. “Tell me how you happened to come here, Adelaide,” urged Mary Louise. She wanted to hear the story from the girl’s own lips, to see whether it coincided with Cliff Hunter’s. “Well, Horace is an architect, you know,” began Adelaide. “And he did some work for Mr. Hunter last fall, just before we were married and before Mr. Hunter died. Mr. Hunter was so pleased with it that he gave Horace a little piece of land up here as an extra bonus, to build a cottage for ourselves, and he got Mr. Robinson to let him design his too. “We got married, and everything went finely until Mr. Hunter died. Then Horace didn’t have much work. But Mr. Hunter had indicated that it would be good business for us to live up here during the summer and meet wealthy people.” “Some of us are far from wealthy!” put in Mary Louise. <div class="pb" id="Page_143">[143]</div> “We didn’t know that. We judged everybody to be like the Hunters. Besides, Mr. Hunter said that he owned a lot more land around Shady Nook, and as he sold it off in lots, he’d see that Horace got the contracts to design the new cottages. “We came up early in the spring, and Horace enjoyed designing our bungalow and the Robinsons’. We had enough money left to see us through the summer, but no prospects for the fall, unless something unexpected turned up.... Then Horace began to worry.... “Naturally, we thought Mrs. Hunter would be nice to us, but she was horrible. Just icy. I really think she believes Horace started that fire just to get the contract to build her a new cottage!” Mary Louise flushed. It was amazing to have Adelaide Ditmar calmly state the suspicion which was being whispered behind her back. It almost proved her husband’s innocence, she thought. Evidently Adelaide did not notice Mary Louise’s embarrassment, for she continued her recital in the same tone of voice. <div class="pb" id="Page_144">[144]</div> “I hate to tell you so much of my troubles, Mary Louise,” she said, “but there’s a reason for it. I have a plan, and I thought maybe you’d help me carry it out. You’re so popular that anything you took a hand in would be sure to be a success.” “Popular?” repeated Mary Louise in amazement. Even if she were, she wondered how popularity could help solve Adelaide Ditmar’s worries. “I want to make some money to help Horace, and I think I see a way. Before I was married, I took a course in home economics, and I was assistant director of a Y.W.C.A. dining room. So you see I really do know something about food.” Still Mary Louise did not see what on earth she was driving at. “So I’d like to start a dining room here at Shady Nook, now that the inn has been destroyed. No boarders, like Flicks’, but just lunch and dinner service. I believe we could do it by using our living room and dining room and porch. That young Adams man—Tom, I believe his name is—could knock together some benches and tables for us, and we could gather up enough dishes, I think. Would you—go into it with me, Mary Louise?” Mary Louise was startled by the suggestion. What an idea! Yet she could not help admiring Adelaide’s courage. <div class="pb" id="Page_145">[145]</div> “You really are serious?” she asked. “It would mean an awful lot of work.” “Oh, I know that! But I don’t have enough to do now.... Yes, I’ve thought it all out. We could hire Hattie Adams to wash dishes, and I could cook, and you and Jane could wait on the tables.... Would you, Mary Louise?” “I don’t know,” replied the other hesitatingly. “Maybe—if Mother is willing.... Does your husband approve, Adelaide?” “Oh, yes, he’s keen about it! He has promised to do anything he can to help me. Buy all our supplies for us, and keep accounts, and even take turn in washing dishes, if we need him.... Oh, Mary Louise, please!” Adelaide seized her hand excitedly, and Mary Louise could not bear to refuse point-blank. “Mr. Frazier won’t like it,” she said. “Who cares about that old stiff?” returned the other girl. “He has no business to charge such terrible prices. I’ll bet the people of Shady Nook will be glad to get out of paying them!” Still Mary Louise hesitated. Was this plan just another proof of the Ditmars’ guilt in the burning of the cottages? No; that didn’t seem possible. Whatever crime Horace Ditmar might commit, Mary Louise felt sure that his charming wife could have no part in it. And she longed dreadfully to help her out. <div class="pb" id="Page_146">[146]</div> “I’ll talk it over with Mother and Jane,” she finally agreed, “and let you know tonight after supper. Will you be home then?” “Yes, indeed! Horace and I will be waiting for you on the porch of our bungalow.... And now I must go, Mary Louise, and talk over the plans with him. I’m really thrilled about it—it’ll give us a new interest in life. Oh, I do hope you’ll decide to help me!” And, pressing Mary Louise’s hand affectionately, she darted off down the steps. For a long time Mary Louise sat still, her knitting lying forgotten in her lap, while she thought over Adelaide’s startling proposition. Maybe it was the best thing in the world that could have happened; perhaps fate was playing right into her hands. The opportunity to know and to watch Horace Ditmar would be perfect; if he really were guilty, she surely ought to be able to find it out upon such close association. <div class="pb" id="Page_147">[147]</div> But, on the other hand, the work would take a great deal of time. Time from recreation, time from following up other clues that might transpire concerning other suspects. Her mother would probably disapprove, and no doubt Jane would object. Well, she wouldn’t insist upon Jane’s helping her; no doubt Mabel Reed would jump at the chance of making some extra money, for she expected to earn her own way through college. She’d give it a try, she finally decided as she folded up her knitting and put it back into her bag. Now she must turn her attention to other matters. She wanted to drive over to Four Corners and ask the storekeeper some questions about Tom Adams. And possibly have a talk with the young man himself. She wished she had kept Freckles with her, even though she didn’t need him to trail Rebecca Adams. With Jane over at the Reeds’, she would have to drive to Four Corners alone. But, after all, it wasn’t much of a trip—only four or five miles at the most. She found a list of needed groceries on a pad in the kitchen which her mother kept for that very purpose, and took her own pocketbook. Twenty minutes later she drew up at the entrance to the store. As Jane had remarked, Eberhardt’s looked like anything but a grocery store. It was an old-fashioned country house with a wide front porch, and although Mary Louise had never noticed it before, there was a screened-in porch around at the side, partially hidden by a huge elm tree. <div class="pb" id="Page_148">[148]</div> As she locked her car she heard voices from this porch: men’s voices; and the remark which one of them made caused her to listen in astonishment. “I’m sick of your card tricks, Tom Adams!” he sneered. “Think you’ll make me fergit them hundred berries you owe me? Well, I ain’t a-goin’ a fergit it! You pay me by tonight, or I’ll——” “You’ll what?” drawled Tom Adams in a voice which Mary Louise instantly recognized from having heard it that morning. “Beat me up?” His laugh was contemptuous. Evidently the other fellow was a little man, Mary Louise decided. “I’ll see that nobody ever plays another game with you, Tom Adams, that’s what I’ll do! A liar and a cheat——” “Hold on there!” interrupted the other. “I’m a-goin’ a pay you, Bill! Don’t I always square up my debts?” “You always win,” returned his accuser. “This is my first streak of luck in a year!” “I’m payin’ you tomorrow, after I collect a little bill a guy owes me!” <div class="pb" id="Page_149">[149]</div> “A little bill? Who around here could owe you a hundred smackers?” “None of your business——” A voice from the store interrupted this argument. “Boys, boys! Not so much noise!” called the storekeeper. Mary Louise, realizing that she had been sitting in her car for several minutes, got out and went into the store. “Quite a card party you have out there, Mr. Eberhardt,” she remarked. The man’s face flushed. “Yeah. Those boys are gettin’ too old fer that sort of thing. I let ’em play games there when they was nuthin’ but kids, but now they’re growed up, and it gives my store a bad look. Harmless, of course, but I reckon I better put a stop to it.” “Not so harmless if they gamble to the extent of owing each other a hundred dollars,” remarked Mary Louise shrewdly. “Oh, you must be mistaken about that, Miss Gay. That was only their little joke. Nobody round here has a hundred dollars to throw away.” <div class="pb" id="Page_150">[150]</div> Mary Louise smiled and pretended not to have any further interest in the matter. Nor did she ask Mr. Eberhardt any questions about Tom Adams—for it wasn’t necessary. She had learned plenty about the young man for herself! So she merely handed the storekeeper her list, paid her bill, and departed. “So Tom Adams does card tricks!” she muttered to herself as she started the car. “With Cliff Hunter’s cards, no doubt!” She smiled with satisfaction: she’d write that fact to Cliff tonight.... “But who,” she asked herself, “could be paying Tom Adams a hundred dollars—and for what? Surely not for the odd jobs he did for the people of Shady Nook, or for Frazier at the Royal Hotel!” At last, she believed, she was on the right trail in solving the mystery of the fires! <div class="pb" id="Page_151">[151]</div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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