  Mr. Gay was seated at the telephone table in the dining room the following morning when Mary Louise came downstairs to breakfast. She waited breathlessly for the news, for she felt sure that he was talking to some of the police about the whereabouts of Elsie Grant. “That’s strange,” she heard him say. “I can hardly believe it.... You checked up with the bus companies as well as the railroads?... O.K., then. Keep on searching,” he concluded. Replacing the receiver, he turned to his daughter. “Not a trace of Elsie anywhere,” he announced. Mary Louise smiled: she was almost glad that the girl had not been found. It gave her more time to believe in Elsie’s innocence. “Do you think she could have been kidnaped, Daddy?” she inquired. “People are, pretty often, nowadays.” “But they’re always rich or important,” returned Mr. Gay. “No: that’s one of the blessings of being poor—nobody would kidnap Elsie Grant unless he knew that she had the ruby necklace. Then the criminal would be much more likely to steal it and let her go.” “That’s what I think,” agreed Mary Louise.... “What are you going to do now?” “There’s nothing more I can do. I suppose you are planning to go over to the hospital to see Miss Grant?” “Yes, for a few minutes after breakfast. Then—Daddy—” Mary Louise hesitated: she didn’t want her father to laugh at her next request, but she just had to ask him—“would you be willing to go on a search with me through Cooper’s woods? It’s just possible that all our detective work may be wrong and my unsuspecting mother right. Elsie might be lost in Cooper’s woods!” “I’m not going to smile,” replied her father. “Because I think your suggestion is a very good one. Elsie may even be guilty of the thefts—and have the necklace and the gold pieces with her—and still be lost or hiding in those woods. I’ll be glad to go with you.” Mary Louise’s brown eyes sparkled. What a good sport her father was! “Don’t let’s take the car, Daddy,” she urged. “At least, not any farther than Dark Cedars. I’d like to set out from the back of Miss Grant’s yard and try to trace Elsie’s steps—with Silky to help us. If I get her old calico dress and shoes and let him sniff them, I think he’d understand.” Mr. Gay gazed at his daughter admiringly. “Mary Lou, that is an idea!” he cried. “You’re a better detective than I am.” She blushed at the praise. “Wait till we see how my plan turns out,” she answered. “It may lead to nothing at all.... Still, we’ll be having fun. It’ll be a regular hiking trip.” “Of course it will be fun,” agreed her father, for he loved the out-of-doors. “And we’ll carry blankets in case we stay overnight.” “What’s this I hear?” demanded Mrs. Gay, appearing from the kitchen with the coffee pot in her hands. “What mischief are you two up to now?” “Only an all-day hike, my dear,” explained Mr. Gay calmly. “You don’t mind, do you? And will you drive us as far as Dark Cedars and bring the car back?” “Certainly,” replied Mrs. Gay graciously. “May I go?” asked Freckles as he came into the dining room with Silky at his heels. “I’m afraid you’ll have to stay home and take care of your mother, Son, for we may be gone overnight,” replied his father. “But just wait till I get my real vacation, later on. We’ll have a whale of a trip. All four of us together.” “Don’t you expect to be home in time for supper?” asked Mrs. Gay. “That all depends upon our luck.” And Mr. Gay went on to explain to his wife the nature of their excursion and the reason for making it. While he assembled the necessary equipment for the hike, Mary Louise hurried off to the hospital to see Miss Grant. It was early, but she was told that she might go up to the patient’s room immediately. The old lady was expecting her. Mary Louise found her looking pale and wasted, but her black eyes beamed as brightly as ever, and she smiled faintly at her visitor. “I brought you some flowers, Miss Grant,” began the girl cheerfully as she handed them to the nurse. “And I’m so glad to hear that you are better.” Miss Grant nodded her thanks and indicated that she wanted Mary Louise to sit down in the chair beside her high white bed. “Any news?” she asked in a weak but eager voice. Mary Louise shook her head. “Nothing more,” she replied. “Mr. John Grant told you about my awful experience on Saturday night, didn’t he?” “Yes. I was afraid something like that might happen. I’m sorry, Mary Louise, and thankful that you weren’t injured.” “You mean you’re sorrier for me than for yourself—about losing the necklace?” asked the girl incredulously. This didn’t sound at all like the miser she believed Miss Grant to be. “Yes, I am. Because, somehow, I never thought that necklace would do me any good. I should have been afraid to sell it for fear it would bring up some old scandal or some disgrace about my father. I don’t know how he got hold of it—I was always afraid it had something to do with gambling or a bet of some kind—but I do know that my mother never approved of his keeping it. And so I’m almost thankful it’s gone.” “Who do you think could have taken it?” “Either the original owner—whoever he is—or my mother’s ghost. You read of queer things like that sometimes, things that never can be explained by the living. Perhaps when we are dead we shall understand.... I don’t know.... I dreamed about Mother night before last, and in the dream I promised her to throw away the necklace.... So I’m almost thankful it’s gone.” Mary Louise let out a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad it doesn’t worry you, Miss Grant. I was afraid you’d suspect Elsie.” The sick woman’s eyes flashed angrily. “I do still suspect Elsie of taking my gold!” The old expression of greed crossed her face. “You haven’t found it for me yet, have you, Mary Louise?” “No, I haven’t, Miss Grant.” “Where is Elsie?” was the next question. Mary Louise hesitated: she hated to answer this. “She is—lost. She went away yesterday—Sunday morning—and hasn’t come back yet.” Miss Grant nodded significantly. “I was expecting it. Well, you don’t believe any longer that she’s innocent, do you, Mary Louise?” “I’m still hoping,” replied the girl. Miss Grant was silent for some minutes, and Mary Louise felt that it was time for her to go. But before she made a move, she told the sick woman of Hannah’s decision to leave Dark Cedars, and she held out the key. “But I should like to keep it today, if you don’t mind, Miss Grant,” she added, “so I can get some clothing of Elsie’s for Silky to sniff at. I want to take him down to the woods to see whether he can get on her trail.” “Keep it as long as you want it,” agreed the old lady. “If Hannah is gone, I shan’t return to Dark Cedars very soon. John wants me to go to his home, anyhow, when I get out of the hospital, so I suppose I had better agree.” “Do you want to see William about your cow and your garden?” inquired Mary Louise. “Yes, tell him to stop in to see me here at the hospital.... And now you had better go, child.... I’m very tired.” Enormously relieved that the interview had been so easy, Mary Louise left the hospital and hurried back to her home. She met Jane Patterson as she entered her own gate. “What next?” inquired her chum, who had been told the previous evening of Elsie’s disappearance. “Still acting the detective?” “I should say,” answered Mary Louise. “Dad and I are going off now in search of Elsie.” “Where are you going? Harrisburg?” “No. Cooper’s woods. Want to come along, Jane?” The other girl shook her head. “I don’t believe so. I have a tennis date with Norman, and Hope Dorsey is rounding up the crowd to drive over to a country fair tonight. She’ll be furious if you don’t go—and so will Max. Kenneth was expecting we’d bring Elsie Grant along.” “I only wish we could!” sighed Mary Louise. “But maybe we shall be able to. Maybe we’ll find her and bring her back home in time for supper.” “And maybe not,” remarked Jane. “I’ve got to be off now,” concluded the other, giving her chum a hasty kiss. “Wish me good luck!” “You know I do!” was the reply. Mary Louise ran into the house and found her father all ready to start. He had made up a pack for each of them to carry; his own, the heavier, included a small tent for use if they were obliged to sleep in the woods. The food and equipment were sufficient but not overabundant, for Mr. Gay was a good camper and knew just what was necessary and what could be left at home. “Get into your knickers, Mary Lou,” he advised. “And bring a sweater along.” “You don’t think we’ll be cold?” “The woods are chilly at night.” “Bring me back a bearskin,” suggested Freckles jokingly. “I could use one.” “I don’t expect to shoot anything,” replied his father. “But, of course, you never can tell.” Half an hour later Mrs. Gay drove the two adventurers over to Dark Cedars and let them out at the hedge. Mary Louise, with Silky at her heels, led the way up to the house. “It is a gloomy-looking place,” observed her father as he followed her through the trees. “Yet it could be made very attractive.” Mary Louise shuddered. “Nobody would ever want to live here after all the ghost stories get around. You know how people exaggerate, and the stories are bad enough as they are.” “The porch certainly needs paint and repairs. It’s a wonder Miss Grant hasn’t fallen down and broken her neck.” Mary Louise inserted her key in the lock and opened the heavy wooden door. Inside, the shutters were carefully closed, and the dark, somber house seemed almost like a tomb. The stairs creaked ominously as the two ascended them, and Mary Louise was thankful that she was not alone. After that one experience in Miss Grant’s bedroom, she never knew what strange creature might rush at her from the big, dark closet. “I can hardly see where I’m going,” remarked Mr. Gay. “You better take my hand, Mary Lou.” His daughter seized it gladly; she was only too pleased to feel its human, reassuring pressure. She led the way to the rear of the second floor, up the attic steps to Elsie’s room. Here they found one of the windows open, so that a subdued light brightened the attic room. But there was no sunshine, for the boughs of the cedar trees pressed against the window sill. Silky had been following them at a respectful distance, and Mary Louise lifted him up in her arms as she opened the closet door. A musty smell greeted her, but she had no difficulty in finding the clothing she wanted, and she held it close to Silky’s nose. “This is Elsie’s,” she said, just as if the dog were human. “Elsie is lost, and you must find her.” Still keeping the dog in her arms and the dress close to his nose, she carefully descended the stairs. “I’d like to see Miss Grant’s bedroom,” said Mr. Gay as they reached the second floor. “I want a look at the mattress.” “O.K., Daddy. But you go first. And have your gun ready if you open that closet door. I think that’s where the ghosts live.” “Mary Lou!” cried her father in amazement. “You don’t believe that stuff, do you?” “I wish I did,” sighed the girl. “Because that would make Elsie innocent.” “You are very fond of Elsie, aren’t you, Daughter?” “She seemed so sweet. And all our crowd liked her.” Mr. Gay went to the window of Miss Grant’s room and threw open the shutter to let in the light. Just as Mary Louise had said, the mattress was literally torn to pieces. Piles of straw were heaped on the floor, and the ragged covering was strewn all over the room. Mr. Gay examined it, and Mary Louise walked over to the side window—the one under which William’s ladder had been found. “Even a piece from the mattress is on this window ledge,” she remarked as she pulled out a long strip of material. She examined it more closely. Suddenly her eyes blinked in excitement. “This isn’t mattress cover, Daddy!” she exclaimed. “It’s clothing material! Blue sateen! From—somebody’s dress!” Mr. Gay reached the window in two quick steps. “What do you make of that, Mary Lou?” he demanded. “I think it must be a piece from the thief’s clothing!” she cried in delight. “And I don’t believe it’s Elsie’s. Unless she was wearing some old dress of her aunt’s.” “I hope you’re right,” said Mr. Gay. “Put the strip into your pocket. Crimes have been solved on slimmer evidence than that.” He turned aside. “There are no ghosts in the closet, Mary Lou,” he announced solemnly. “I just looked.” “Then let’s leave, Daddy. I’m ‘rarin’ to go’—because—well—because I have another reason now besides wanting to find Elsie!” “You suspect somebody definitely?” he inquired. “Yes. But don’t ask me whom—yet. Just let’s go.” Still holding on to Elsie’s calico dress, Mary Louise led the way out of the house and around to the back yard of Dark Cedars. Here they found William complacently working in the garden, as if nothing had ever happened to disturb the peace at Miss Grant’s home. He looked up and smiled at Mary Louise. “Elsie didn’t come back, did she, William?” asked the girl. The old man shook his head. “Nope,” he replied. “Any more chickens stolen?” “Nope.” “Well, we’re off to hunt Elsie—my father and I,” explained Mary Louise. “And, by the way, William, Miss Grant wants you to stop in to see her at the hospital.” “I’ll do that,” agreed the man. “And good luck to ye!” “Thanks, William,” returned Mary Louise. “Good-bye.” She and her father walked on down the hill towards the little shack where the colored family lived, and stopped there to inquire again about Elsie. But Mrs. Jones had not seen her since the previous morning; however, she pointed out just what path the girl had taken. So Mary Louise put Silky on the trail, and the three began their search. |
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