  Mary Louise threw her arms around Elsie and hugged her tightly. It was so good to know that she was innocent—and safe! “You’ve found the gold pieces!” exclaimed the girl, staring at the box in Mr. Gay’s hand. “And the necklace!” she added, as the gypsy proudly put on the jewels and went off to show her people. “Yes, I’ll tell you all about it later,” replied Mary Louise. “But first I want to hear about you, Elsie: why you are here, and how these gypsies have been treating you.” “They’ve been treating me splendidly! Much better than Aunt Mattie ever did. You see, they liked my father and my grandfather, and they hated Aunt Mattie. So of course they have a lot of sympathy for me.” “But when did you come to them?” “Yesterday afternoon. I was perfectly miserable after Saturday night. I knew Jane suspected me of doing that terrible thing to you, and I never slept a wink the whole night. So I decided to run away. I didn’t think of the gypsies at the time: I just wanted to get out of Riverside. I put on the green silk dress you gave me, and tied up my other things in a bundle, and made off through the woods so that I wouldn’t meet anybody.” “Mrs. Jones saw you go,” said Mary Louise. “It was she who put Daddy and Silky and me on the trail.” “I took some fruit and some biscuits from the kitchen at Dark Cedars,” Elsie went on to explain. “I thought I’d walk to the nearest town and ask for work. Now that I have some decent clothes, I don’t feel ashamed to be seen.” “But you came upon the gypsies before you got to any town?” inquired Mr. Gay, who couldn’t keep out of the conversation, although he had not been properly introduced. “Yes. And I was tired and hungry, so I thought maybe they’d let me stay overnight with them. They were stewing chicken, and it smelled so good.” “Your aunt Mattie’s chickens,” explained Mary Louise laughingly. “Really?” asked Elsie in surprise. The idea had not occurred to her. “Yes. Mrs. Jones saw the gypsies stealing the chickens.... Well, did they give you some supper?” “They certainly did. Mira—she is the fortune teller—let me sleep in her tent. She said she used to play with my father when he was a little boy, when my grandfather—old Mr. Grant, you recall—let the gypsies camp at Dark Cedars. She told me I could stay with them all my life if I wanted to.” “You didn’t expect to do it, did you?” “I wanted to get a job. But there isn’t much I can do, I’m afraid.” The young girl’s voice grew sad; the future looked gray to her. Mary Louise took her hand. “You’re coming right back to Riverside with Daddy and me,” she announced. “Your aunt Mattie will have to promise to treat you better, or else she won’t get her gold pieces back!” “She’ll be furious about the necklace,” said Elsie. “No, she won’t either. I happen to know that she’ll be thankful to have the matter all cleared up. And she’ll be delighted to get the money, because that is rightfully hers.” Mr. Gay leaned over and picked up his pack. “You go get your things together, Elsie,” he said, “and say good-bye to your gypsy friends. We’ll take a bus back to Riverside from Coopersburg.” “You really want me?” asked the girl. “Absolutely!” replied Mary Louise. “You’re going to go to high school this fall, I hope, and belong to our crowd of young people. All the boys and girls like you.” Elsie’s face lighted up with a happy smile. “And I like them, too—but you and Jane will always come first. Oh, I’m so glad that Jane will believe in me again!” Ten minutes later the two girls and Mr. Gay were seated in the bus bound for Riverside. Mary Louise held Silky in her arms under her pack when she got in, and the conductor did not even notice him. She was thankful for that, because she was much too tired to walk. They went straight to the Gays’ home, taking Elsie with them. Mrs. Gay was sitting on the front porch, little thinking that her two adventurers would return so soon. She jumped up in delight when she saw them coming in at the gate. “And is this Elsie?” she asked as the three tired wanderers ascended the porch steps. “Yes, Mother, this is Elsie Grant,” replied Mary Louise. “We found her, and we caught the thief too. It was the gypsy fortune teller.” “Well, of all things!” exclaimed Mrs. Gay. “And had she kidnaped Elsie too?” “Oh no, Elsie went there voluntarily, because everybody suspected her of the crime, and she was unhappy. But Elsie had no idea the gypsy was the thief, until she heard us accusing her.” “If I’d only have been a detective like Mary Louise,” the girl remarked admiringly, “I might have guessed. But I’m pretty stupid about things like that. I even ate some of Aunt Mattie’s chicken for my supper last night without ever guessing that the gypsies stole it.” Mrs. Gay laughed. “Well, it certainly is nice to have you all back again. We’ll have a fine dinner to celebrate—I’ll send Freckles for ice cream when he comes in.” She stooped over and patted the little dog’s head. “Silky shall have some too. He loves ice cream.” Mary Louise took Elsie up to her room, and the two girls lay down on the bed to rest after they had removed their dusty clothing and cooled themselves under the shower. At five o’clock Mrs. Gay came in with the news that Jane Patterson was downstairs, asking for her chum. “Please tell her to come up, Mother,” replied Mary Louise. “I can’t understand why she is being so formal.” “She knows Elsie is here,” explained Mrs. Gay, “and thought you might not like to be disturbed.” “Does she know I didn’t steal the money or the necklace?” demanded Elsie eagerly. “Mary Louise’s father is telling her the story now. Freckles just came in, and he had to hear all about it too. He’s almost as keen to become a detective as Mary Louise is.” Mrs. Gay returned to the first floor, and in a couple of minutes Jane Patterson dashed into the bedroom. She hugged both Elsie and Mary Louise at once. “You’re a wonder, Mary Lou!” she cried. “Sherlock Holmes, and Philo Vance, and Spencer Dean haven’t a thing on you for solving mysteries. Why, I bet your father loses his job and they hire you in his place!” “Now, Jane, be rational!” begged Mary Louise. The visitor seated herself upon the edge of the bed. “All right, I’ll try.... What I came over about was to see whether you and Elsie can go with our crowd to that country fair tonight. We’re leaving early after supper, and Mother and Dad are both going along. You can take Freckles too—but not Silky. He might get into a fight with the cows or pigs or something.” “Don’t insult my dog!” returned Mary Louise solemnly. “Silky never associates with pigs!” “O.K.... Well, can you go?” “We’d love to, but don’t you think we ought to take Miss Grant’s money back to her?” “Not tonight, certainly!” was Jane’s emphatic reply. “Let her worry about it a little longer—it’s good for her.” “But shouldn’t I go over to see her?” asked Elsie. “Tomorrow’s time enough for that,” answered Mary Louise. “You can stay all night with me tonight.” Mrs. Gay heartily approved of the plan, for she felt that both her daughter and Elsie needed a little diversion, and so for the time being the adventure at Dark Cedars was completely forgotten. Early after supper the young people drove off in four cars and enjoyed themselves thoroughly until nearly midnight. But both Elsie and Mary Louise awakened early the following morning, intent upon tying up the few remaining threads of the mystery at Dark Cedars. Mary Louise had been hoping, ever since she found Elsie, that the girl would be invited to live at the home of Mrs. Grace Grant—if her aunt Mattie would agree to contribute something towards her support. With this plan in her mind, she turned Elsie over to Jane to entertain for the morning, and she herself went directly to the Grants’ home in Riverside. She was fortunate in catching John Grant before he left for business, for she believed him to be an ally. He and his mother were seated at the breakfast table when she arrived. The maid brought her right into the dining room. “Good-morning, Mrs. Grant—and Mr. Grant,” she began brightly. “I must apologize for this early call, but I have great news. We caught the thief!” John Grant, who had risen at Mary Louise’s entrance, stepped forward excitedly. “Not really?” he demanded. “Do you mean Elsie?” “No, Mr. Grant, Elsie is not a thief. It was the gypsy fortune teller.” And Mary Louise went on to explain the story of the necklace as the woman had told it to her. She concluded with the finding of Elsie. “The poor child has been perfectly miserable all the time she lived with her aunt Mattie,” she said. “So I wondered—if I can make Miss Grant pay something towards her support—whether she couldn’t live here. She needs someone like you, Mrs. Grant, to be a mother to her.” The old lady’s kind heart was touched. “Of course she can live here!” she exclaimed, “whether Mattie contributes towards her support or not. We’ll manage somehow. Don’t you think we can, John?” “I have thought so all along,” replied her son. “Elsie should go to high school, like other normal young girls.” Mary Louise seized the hands of both people at once. She was wild with joy at the success of her plan. “I’m going straight to the hospital now,” she said, picking up the heavy tin box which she had laid on a small table in the dining room, “to see what kind of bargain I can drive with Miss Grant!” John laughed. “You have the gold?” he asked. “Yes. But I’m not going to give it to her till she makes me some sort of promise.” “Let me drive you over,” he suggested. “That box must be heavy.” “It has five hundred dollars in gold in it,” returned Mary Louise. “I counted it, to make sure. Probably Miss Grant will offer me ten dollars as a reward.” “I can believe that,” agreed Mrs. Grant. “She certainly is stingy. Poor little Elsie!” Five minutes later John Grant left Mary Louise at the entrance to the hospital, and the girl carried her heavy box up to the patient’s room. But it was carefully wrapped and tied, so that Miss Grant had no idea what it contained. The old lady was looking much brighter this morning. She smiled pleasantly as her young friend entered. “Mary Louise!” she exclaimed. “Any news?” “Lots of news,” replied the girl, seating herself in the chair beside the bed. “Do you feel equal to hearing it?” “I certainly do. Have you found my money?” “I want to tell you the story straight from the beginning. But before I do that, I want to assure you that Elsie is innocent. We found the real thief, and we also found Elsie. She ran away because she was unhappy.” Miss Grant’s eyes sparkled with eagerness. “Never mind about Elsie now. Tell me who stole my money.” “One of the gypsies,” replied Mary Louise. “I can give it to you if you’ll promise to donate some of it for Elsie’s support. Mrs. Grace Grant wants her to live with them, but you know how poor she is now.” “All right, all right, I’ll give you fifty dollars if you get it all back for me! Where is it?” “I’ll tell you in a minute.” Mary Louise couldn’t help enjoying teasing the miserly woman in retaliation for the way she had treated Elsie. “But it isn’t a case of giving fifty dollars now. It’s rather that you pay Mrs. Grant something—say twenty dollars a month—as your share towards Elsie’s support.” Miss Grant groaned. “For how long?” she demanded. “Till Elsie finishes high school.” “That’s a lot of money.... Still, I wouldn’t have to have the child around. And she does irritate me.... Yes, I’ll agree. Where is my money?” Mary Louise unwrapped her box and put it down upon the white bed. Miss Grant reached for it as a child might grab at his Christmas stocking. She opened it and immediately began to count the gold pieces. “It’s all here!” she cried exultantly. Mary Louise nodded. “Shall I tell you the story now—about the necklace?” she inquired. “Yes, yes. I had forgotten the necklace. Where is it?” “I’m afraid you won’t get that, Miss Grant, because it never really belonged to your father.” And Mary Louise went on to relate the gypsy’s story. Still fingering the gold, the old lady listened intently. “Yes, that sounds right to me,” she agreed, as the story ended. “I am thankful that the necklace is back with its rightful owner. That would please my mother. Maybe now Dark Cedars will be a more peaceful place to live.” “I believe it will be,” concluded Mary Louise as she rose to go. “Here is your key, Miss Grant—and—good-bye!” “Wait, Mary Louise! I want to give you forty dollars—in gold. You can give ten to Jane, as I promised her, but I think you deserve thirty. You’re a good, clever girl!” Mary Louise shook her head. “No, thank you, Miss Grant. What I did, I did because of my love and sympathy for Elsie. If you will treat her fairly, that is all the reward I want.” The old lady gazed at the girl in amazement at her refusal. But she saw that she meant what she said; perhaps Mary Louise’s generosity put her to shame. “I will, Mary Louise,” she promised solemnly. “I will indeed.” So, well satisfied with the happy solution of the mystery at Dark Cedars, Mary Louise hurried back to tell Elsie Grant the good news about her new home and the four happy years at high school which were in store for her. |
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