  Mary Louise brought the car to a stop at Stoddard House at a quarter to one. Carrying the money and the jewels in her father’s briefcase, and the other articles in the basket, she and Margaret went into the hotel to get ready for dinner while Mr. Gay returned the hired car to the garage. “I’ll notify the police that you’re found, Mary Lou,” he said. “Then I’ll call your mother. I think it will be best if she goes over to your grandparents, Margaret, and tells them about you herself. They haven’t a telephone, and I don’t like to frighten elderly people with telegrams.” Both girls nodded their approval to these suggestions and hurried into the hotel. Mrs. Hilliard was waiting for Mary Louise with open arms; she loved the young detective like a daughter. “Now, run along, girls, and get ready for dinner,” she said finally. “We are going to have one big table, instead of all the little ones in the dining room. With a tree in the center, and place cards, just like a jolly family party.” “That’s swell!” exclaimed Mary Louise. “It’ll be real Christmas after all.” “And thank you so much for the lovely handkerchiefs, dear,” added the manager. “It was sweet of you to think of me.... That reminds me, you haven’t had your presents yet.” “Put them at my place at the table,” suggested Mary Louise. “And I’ll have presents for some of the guests,” she added, with a significant glance at the briefcase and basket. When the girls returned to the first floor, after washing their faces and powdering their noses, they found Mr. Gay waiting for them. For a moment he did not see them, so intent was he in the newspaper he was reading. “Want to see the gang’s picture?” he asked when Mary Louise came to his side. “Oh yes! Please!” In spite of the fact that it was Christmas Day, a large photograph of Mrs. Ferguson and her six accomplices occupied much of the front page of this Philadelphia paper. In an inset above the picture of the crooks was Mary Louise’s smiling face! “Daddy!” cried the girl in amazement. “Are you responsible for this?” “I am,” replied her father proudly. “I want everybody to know that the credit belongs to you, Daughter.” Other guests, who had not yet read their newspapers, crowded about Mr. Gay eager for the exciting news. They all remembered Pauline Brooks, and Mary Green; several of them identified the two transients who had stolen the other things from Stoddard House. A loud gong sounded from the dining room, and Mrs. Hilliard threw open the doors. The room was beautifully decorated with greens and holly; a long table stretched out before them, covered with a lovely lace cloth and bearing a small Christmas tree as its centerpiece. Bright red ribbons had been stretched from the tree to each guest’s place, adding brilliancy to the spectacle. “Hello, Mary Louise!” said a voice behind the young detective, and, turning around, Mary Louise saw Mrs. Weinberger behind her. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Weinberger!” she replied. “It’s nice to see you back here.” “I’ve come back to stay,” announced the older woman. “I got lonely at the Bellevue. And Mrs. Macgregor is here too, for Christmas dinner.” It was a happy group who finally found their places around the beautiful table and sat down. Mrs. Hilliard was at one end, and Miss Stoddard was honored with the seat at the other end. Mr. Gay was the only man present, but he did not seem in the least embarrassed. Mary Louise found her pile of presents at her place, and Margaret Detweiler discovered a bunch of violets and a box of candy at hers. Even in his haste, Mr. Gay had remembered the lonely girl. The guests ate their oyster cocktails and their mushroom soup before any formal announcement concerning the valuables was made. Then Mrs. Hilliard rose from her chair. “As you all know from the papers, our criminals have been caught by Mary Louise Gay and her father, and are now in prison. But even better news than that is coming. I’ll introduce Mr. Gay, whom some of you know already, and he’ll tell you more about it.” Everybody clapped as the famous detective stood up. “I’m not going to make a speech,” he said, “and keep you waiting for the turkey we’re all looking forward to. I just thought that maybe some of you would enjoy this wonderful dinner even more if you knew that you are going to get everything back again which was stolen. My daughter found all the valuables and the money this morning in Mrs. Ferguson’s house at Center Square, and she will now return them to their rightful owners.” As the newspaper had not mentioned anything about the stolen goods, the guests were not prepared for this pleasant surprise. A loud burst of applause greeted Mary Louise as she smilingly rose to her feet and opened the briefcase and drew out the basket from under the table where she had hidden it. “I’ll begin at the beginning,” she said. “With the vase and the silverware belonging to Stoddard House.” She carried these articles to Mrs. Hilliard, amid appreciative hand-clapping. “Next, Miss Granger’s picture and her fifty dollars,” she continued. Tears actually came to the artist’s eyes as she took the painting from Mary Louise’s hands. “You keep the fifty dollars, Miss Gay,” she said. “My picture is what I care for most.” “No, Miss Granger, no, thank you,” replied the girl solemnly. “I am being paid a salary for my work by Mrs. Hilliard, but I can’t accept rewards for doing my duty.” She picked up the watches next: Mrs. Weinberger’s and Mrs. Hilliard’s. The Walder girls would get theirs when they returned from their holidays. “And, last of all, Mrs. Macgregor’s diamond earrings and her five hundred dollars,” she concluded, restoring the jewelry and the bills to the delighted woman. “I believe that is all, for I am wearing my own wrist-watch, and I have my purse with its five dollars contents.” Loud cheering accompanied the applause which followed. When it had at last quieted down, both Mrs. Weinberger and Mrs. Macgregor tried in vain to give Mary Louise a reward, but she remained firm in her refusal. Then the turkeys were brought to the dining room, and everything else was temporarily forgotten in the enjoyment of Christmas dinner. When it was all over, Mr. Gay told Mary Louise to pack her clothing and her presents while he returned the remaining valuables to the Ritz and to the police. “For I hope we can make the three-thirty train,” he explained. “But with that change at the Junction, we’d have to wait all night, shouldn’t we, Daddy?” inquired Mary Louise. Anxious as she was to get back to Riverside, she had no desire to spend the night in a cheerless railway station. “No,” replied her father. “Because there’s going to be a surprise waiting for you at the Junction.” “Max and Norman?” guessed Mary Louise instantly. “You mean that they’ll drive down for us?” Mr. Gay nodded. “That isn’t all,” he said. Mary Louise did not guess the rest of the answer until the train pulled into the Junction shortly after eight o’clock that night. Then a war whoop that could come from no one else but her small brother greeted her ears, and she knew that her mother must be there too. Yes, and there was her chum, Jane Patterson, grinning at her from the boys’ car! And her little dog, Silky! In another minute Mary Louise was clasping her arms around Mrs. Gay and hugging Freckles and Jane and Silky all at once. Max, at her side, had to be content with pressing her arm affectionately. Questions, Christmas greetings, words of joy and congratulation poured so fast upon Mary Louise’s ears that she could scarcely understand them. “You’re home to stay, darling?” This from her mother. “You’ll go to the senior prom with me?” demanded Max. “You’re the most famous girl detective in the world!” shouted Norman Wilder. “You were a lemon to duck my party, but I’ll give another one just in your honor,” promised Jane. “Did you get your salary—your twenty-five bucks?” asked Freckles. Mary Louise nodded, smiling, to everything. Then she got into Max’s car beside him, with Jane and Norman in the rumble seat. Mr. Gay took the wheel of his sedan, with his wife beside him; Margaret Detweiler, who was quietly watching everything, sat behind with Freckles. The drivers of the two cars did not stop for any food on the way; they sped along as fast as they dared towards Riverside. Old Mr. and Mrs. Detweiler were waiting up for their precious granddaughter, their lost Margaret. A little before midnight the cars pulled up in front of the old couple’s home, and everybody in the party went inside for a moment. The greeting between Margaret and her grandparents was touching to see. Even Norman Wilder, who prided himself on being “hard-boiled,” admitted afterwards that the tears came to his eyes. Mrs. Gay discreetly drew her own party away, back to her home, where a feast was waiting for the travelers. This, Mary Louise felt, was her real Christmas celebration—with her family and her three dearest friends. Now she could tell her story and listen to the praises which meant so much to her. “But the best part of it all,” she concluded, “is that I’m a real professional detective at last!” |
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