  “One of the best points in this case,” Mary Louise observed, in her most professional tone, “is its secrecy.” “Why do you say that?” questioned Jane. The girls were returning from their second visit that day to Dark Cedars and were walking as fast as they could towards home. It was almost six o’clock, and Mary Louise usually helped her mother a little with the supper. But Freckles was there; she knew he would offer his services. “What I mean is, since the robbery hasn’t been talked about, nobody is on guard,” she explained. “If any of those relatives did take the money, probably they think the theft hasn’t been discovered yet, or Miss Grant would have called them over to see her. In a way, it’s pretty tricky of her.” “But, do you know, I can hardly believe any of them stole all that gold,” returned Jane. “Because, what would they do with it? Nobody is supposed to use gold nowadays, and it would arouse all sorts of suspicions.” “Yes, that’s true. But then, they might want to hoard it, the same as Miss Grant did.” “A man like Harry Grant wouldn’t want to hoard any! From what I hear of him, he spends money before he even gets it.” “True. But there are other relatives. And somebody did steal it!” “Yes, somebody stole it, all right. Only, the fact that a lot of it was gold makes Elsie look guilty. She probably wouldn’t know about the new law.” Mary Louise frowned: she didn’t like that thought. “Well, I’m not going to suspect Elsie till I’ve investigated everybody else. Every one of those five relations—Mrs. Grant, John Grant, Harry Grant, Mrs. Pearson, and her daughter Corinne!” “Have you any plan at all?” inquired Jane. “Yes, I’d like to do a little snooping tonight.” “Snooping? Where? How?” “Sneak around those two houses in Riverside—the Grants’, where John and Harry live with their mother, and the Pearsons’! It’s such a warm evening they’ll probably be on their porches, and we might overhear something to our advantage.” “But suppose we were arrested for prowling?” “Oh, they wouldn’t arrest two respectable-looking girls like us! Besides, if they did, Daddy could easily get us out.” “Is he home?” “No, he isn’t. But he’ll be back in a day or two.” “A day or two in the county jail wouldn’t be so good!” “Nonsense, Jane! Nothing will happen,” Mary Louise assured her. “We’ve got to take some chances if we’re going to be detectives. Daddy takes terrible ones sometimes.” “Do you know where these people live?” inquired her chum. “The Grants and the Pearsons, I mean?” “I know where the Grants live: in that big red brick house on Green Street. Old-fashioned, set back from the street. Don’t you remember?” “Yes, I guess I do.” “We can pass it on our way home, if we go one block farther down before we turn in at our street.” “How about the Pearsons?” asked Jane. “I don’t know where they live. But I think we can get the address from the phone book.” The girls stepped along at a rapid rate, entirely forgetful of the tennis which had tired Jane so completely a couple of hours ago. In a minute or so they came in sight of the red brick house. It was an ugly place, but it was not run down or dilapidated like Miss Mattie Grant’s. John Grant evidently believed in keeping things in repair. The house stood next to a vacant lot, and it was enclosed by a wooden fence, which was overgrown with honeysuckle vines. A gravel drive led from the front to the back yard, alongside of this fence, and there were half a dozen large old trees on the lawn. “We could easily hide there after dark,” muttered Mary Louise. “Climb over that fence back by the garage and sneak up behind those trees to a spot within hearing distance of the porch.” “I don’t see what good it would do us,” objected Jane. “It might do us lots of good! Look at that car! That must be Harry Grant’s, judging from Elsie’s description. If his car’s there, he must be home. And if we hear him say anything about spending money, then we can be suspicious. Because, where would he get the money unless he stole his aunt’s?” Jane nodded her head. “Yes, I see your logic,” she agreed. “But there isn’t a soul around now, and likely as not there won’t be all evening.” “They’re probably eating supper. Come on, let’s hurry and get ours over. And meet me as soon as you can afterwards.” The girls separated at their gates, and Mary Louise ran inside quickly to be on hand to help her mother. “Daddy isn’t home yet?” she asked, as she carried a plate of hot biscuits to the table. “No, dear,” answered her mother. “He’s in Chicago—I had a special-delivery letter from him today. He can’t be back before the weekend—Saturday or Sunday.” Mary Louise sighed. She had been hoping that perhaps she could get some advice from him without giving away any names or places. Freckles dashed into the room, with Silky close at his heels. “Where have you been, Sis?” he demanded. “Why didn’t you take Silky with you? He’s been fussing for you.” “Jane and I had an errand to go,” the girl explained. “And we couldn’t take him along. But we’ll take him with us for a walk after supper.” “Walk again?” repeated Mrs. Gay, her forehead wrinkled in disapproval. “Mary Louise, you’re doing too much! You must get some rest!” “We shan’t be out long, Mother. It isn’t a date or anything. Jane and I want to take a little stroll, with Silky, after supper. Isn’t it all right if I promise to go to bed very early?” “I suppose so. If you get in by nine-thirty——” “I promise!” replied Mary Louise, little thinking how impossible it was going to be for her to keep her word. She did not start upon her project until she had finished washing the dishes for her mother. Then, slipping upstairs, she changed into a dark green sweater dress and brown shoes and stockings. Through the window of her bedroom she signaled to her chum to make a similar change. “Might as well make ourselves as inconspicuous as possible,” she explained, as the two girls, followed by Silky, walked down the street ten minutes later. “Did you have any trouble getting away, Jane? I mean, without giving any explanation?” “Yes, a little. Mother can’t understand all this sudden passion for walking, when I used to have to ride everywhere in Norman’s or Max’s car. I really think she believes I have a new boy-friend and that I meet him somewhere so as not to make Norman jealous. As if I’d go to all that trouble!” Mary Louise nodded. “A little jealousy does ’em good,” she remarked. “Of course, Mother doesn’t think it’s so queer for me, because I always did have to take Silky for walks. And he’s a good excuse now.” “Oh, well, we’ll be home early tonight,” concluded Jane. “So there won’t be any cause for worry.” “There’s somebody on the porch—several people, I think,” said Mary Louise as the girls turned into the street on which the Grants’ house was situated. “Two men,” added Jane as they came nearer. “I think the person sitting down is a woman. But it’s getting too dark to see clearly.” “All the better! That’s just what we want. Let’s cut across the lot to the back of the place, and sneak up behind the car in the driveway. We can see the porch from there.” “But I’m afraid we’ll be caught,” objected Jane fearfully. Nevertheless, she followed Mary Louise around a side street to the rear of the lot, and together they climbed the Grants’ fence, cautiously and silently. Once inside, they crept noiselessly along the grass near the fence until they came to the back of Harry Grant’s car. There could be no doubt that it was his. At least five years old, with battered mudguards and rusted trimmings, it looked like the relic Elsie had laughed about. It was a small black coupÉ, with a compartment behind for carrying luggage. “If Mr. Harry Grant goes for a ride in this, we’re going with him!” announced Mary Louise. “No!” cried her chum. “How could we?” “In the luggage compartment.” “We’d smother.” “No, we wouldn’t. We’d open the lid after we got started.” “Suppose he locked us in?” “He can’t. I just made sure that the lock has rusted off.” “But what good would it do us to ride with him?” demanded Jane. “Sh! They might hear us!” warned Mary Louise. She turned to the dog and patted him. “You keep quiet too, Silky.... Why,” she explained in a whisper, “we could watch to see whether Mr. Harry spends any money. If he brings out a fifty-dollar bill, he’s a doomed man!” “You are clever, Mary Lou!” breathed her chum admiringly. “But it’s an awful risk to take.” “Oh no, it isn’t. Mr. Grant isn’t a gangster or a desperate character. He wouldn’t hurt us.” Jane looked doubtful. “Have you made out who the people are on the porch?” she asked. “It must be Mrs. Grace Grant—and her two sons. Yes, and I feel sure that is Harry, coming down the steps now.... Listen!” The girls’ eyes, more accustomed to the darkness, could distinguish the figures quite plainly by now. The younger of the two men, with a satchel in his hand, was speaking to his mother. “I ought to be back by Saturday,” he said in a loud, cheerful voice. “And if this deal I’ve been talking about over in New York goes through, I’ll be driving home in a new car.” “You better pay your debts first, Harry,” cautioned his mother. “I hope to make enough money to do both,” he returned confidently. “And if you see Aunt Mattie, you can tell her I don’t need her help!” Mary Louise nudged Jane’s arm at this proud boast and repressed a giggle. “Maybe he can fool his mother,” she whispered. “But he can’t fool us! Come on, get in, Jane.” Holding open the lid of the car’s compartment she lifted Silky in and gave her hand to her chum. “Suppose he puts his satchel in here,” said Jane, when they were all huddled down in the extremely small space and Mary Louise had cautiously let down the lid, shutting them in absolute darkness. “He won’t—not if it has money in it. He’ll keep it right on the seat beside him.... He will anyway, because it doesn’t take up much room.” The car rocked to one side, indicating that Harry Grant had stepped in and was seating himself at the wheel. Jane’s lip trembled. “It’s so dark in here! So terribly dark! Where’s your hand, Mary Lou?” “Here—and here’s Silky. Oh, Jane, this is going to be good!” The motor started, and the car leaped forward with a sudden uneven bound. Jane repressed a cry of terror. It turned sharply at the gate and buzzed along noisily for several minutes before Mary Louise cautiously raised the lid and looked out. Oh, how good it was to see the lights again, and the sky—after that horrible blackness! The car had reached the open highway which led out of Riverside, and it picked up speed until it was rattling along at a pace of about sixty miles an hour. Growing bolder, Mary Louise continued to raise the lid of the compartment until it was upright at its full height. The girls straightened up, with their heads and shoulders sticking out of the enclosure. “Quite a nice ride after all, isn’t it?” observed Mary Louise, gazing up at the stars. “I don’t know,” returned Jane. “It sounds to me as if there were something wrong with that engine. If we have an accident——” “That’s just what I’m hoping for,” was the surprising reply. “Or rather, a breakdown.” “Whatever would you do?” “I’ll tell you. Listen carefully, so we’ll be prepared to act the minute the car stops. While Harry gets out on the left—he surely will, because his wheel is on the left—we jump out on the right. If there are woods beside the road, as I remember there are for some distance along here, we disappear into them. If not, we get to the path, and just walk along as if we were two people out for a walk with their dog. He won’t think anything about that, for he doesn’t know us, or know that we came with him.” “But how will that help us to find out whether he is the thief?” inquired Jane. “My plan is to grab that satchel, if we get a chance, and run off with it!” “But that’s stealing, Mary Lou! He could have us arrested.” “Detectives have to take chances like that. It isn’t really stealing, for we want to get hold of it merely to give its contents to the rightful owner. Of course, if there’s no money in it, we could return it later.” They were silent for a while, listening to the pounding of the engine. Fifteen minutes passed; Mary Louise saw by her watch when they rode under a light that it was quarter after nine, and she recalled her promise to her mother. But she couldn’t do anything about it now. They were ascending a hill, and the speed of the car was diminishing; it seemed to the girls that they were not going to make it. The engine wheezed and puffed, but the driver was evidently doing his best. Ahead, on the left, shone the lights of a gas station, and this, Mary Louise decided, must be the goal that Harry was now aiming for. But the engine refused to go the full distance: it sputtered and died, and the girls felt the car jerked close to the right side, with no sign of civilization about except the lighted gas station about fifty yards ahead. But, lonely or not, the time had come for action, and there was not a second to be lost. Before Harry Grant’s feet were off the running board both girls were out of the car on the other side, holding Silky close to them and hiding in the shadow. Mr. Grant stepped forward and raised the hood of his motor, peering inside with a flashlight. Keeping her eye on him through the open window of the car, Mary Louise crept cautiously along the right side towards the front. The young man turned about suddenly and swore softly to himself. But it was not because he had seen or heard the girls, although Jane did not wait to find that out. Desperately frightened, she dashed wildly into the protecting darkness of the bushes at the side of the road. Mary Louise, however, remained steadfastly where she was, waiting for her opportunity. It came in another moment. Lighting a cigarette, Mr. Grant started to walk to the gas station. “What could be sweeter!” exclaimed Mary Louise rapturously to herself, for Jane was out of hearing distance by this time. “My big chance!” She reached her hand quickly through the open window and picked up the satchel from the seat. Then, with Silky close at her heels, she too made for the protecting woods. In another moment she was at Jane’s side, breathless and triumphant. “You’re all right?” demanded her chum exultantly. “Oh, Mary Lou, you’re marvelous!” “Not so marvelous as you think,” replied the other, feeling for Jane’s hand in the darkness. “Lift that satchel!” Jane groped about, and took it from Mary Louise, expecting a heavy weight. But it was surprisingly, disappointingly light! “It can’t possibly contain any gold,” said Mary Louise, dropping to the ground in disgust. “All our trouble—and we’re only a common pair of thieves ourselves!” Silky came close to her and licked her hand reassuringly, as if he did not agree with her about the name she was calling herself and Jane. “Stranded on a lonely road—at least ten miles from home!” wailed Jane. “Sh!” warned Mary Louise. “They’re at the car—Harry and another man. We might be caught!” But she stopped suddenly: something was coming towards them, as they could sense from the snapping of a twig close by. Not from the road, however, but from the depth of the woods! |
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