The Mystery of the Secret Band

“Yes, indeed,” replied Mary Louise. “I love it. Whom shall we get for a fourth? Mrs. Hilliard?”

“Mrs. Hilliard doesn’t like to play, and besides, she has to get up and answer the telephone so much that she usually just knits in the evenings. Maybe we can get one of the Fletcher girls.”

“No, I heard Lucy say that they had a date,” returned Ruth Walder.

Mary Louise looked disappointed; she was so anxious to meet all the guests at Stoddard House. She had an inspiration, however. “How about Miss Stoddard?” she asked. “Does she play?”

The other two girls looked at Mary Louise in amazement.

“Sure, she plays bridge,” replied Evelyn. “But we don’t want her! If you don’t mind my slang, I’ll say she’s a pain in the neck.”

Mary Louise smiled: she thought so too.

“Mrs. Weinberger is nice, even if she is a lot older than we are,” observed Ruth. “And she loves to play, because her daughter goes out every Saturday night with her boy-friend, I think.”

The others agreed to this suggestion, and Mrs. Weinberger accepted the invitation immediately. So the evening passed pleasantly, but Mary Louise did not feel that she had learned anything of value to her job.

The party broke up about ten-thirty; Mary Louise went to her room and took out her notebook.

“It’s getting so confusing,” she mused. “So many things stolen, so many people involved. These two robberies since I came – the one in my room last night, and Mrs. Macgregor’s today – make five in all. I wonder if they could all have been done by the same person. Maybe – maybe it’s a secret band of some kind! With Miss Henrietta Stoddard as its leader!”

Her one determination, when she awakened the next morning, was to have a talk with Miss Stoddard. Accordingly, after breakfast she asked Mrs. Hilliard how that could best be arranged.

“Miss Stoddard always goes to Christ Church,” was the reply. “Why couldn’t you plan to go with her?”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Mrs. Hilliard! I always did want to visit Christ Church – we read so much about it in history.”

“I’ll ask her to take you with her,” offered the manager, “when she comes out of the dining room.”

The arrangement was easily made, and a couple of hours later Mary Louise met Miss Stoddard in the lobby of the hotel. Today the spinster was not wearing the shabby brown suit; indeed, she looked quite neat and stylish in a dark blue coat trimmed with fur.

The rain had washed most of the snow away, and the sun was shining, so both Mary Louise and Miss Stoddard thought it would be pleasant to walk down to Second and Market streets, where the historic church was situated. For a while they talked of its significance in colonial Philadelphia, and Miss Stoddard promised to show Mary Louise the pew in which George Washington and his family had worshiped.

It was Miss Stoddard, however, who gave the conversation a personal turn.

“You saw me come out of that pawnshop yesterday, didn’t you, Miss Gay?” she inquired. “I wanted to ask you not to say anything about my visit to Mrs. Hilliard or to any of the other guests.”

“But it is nothing to be ashamed of, Miss Stoddard,” protested Mary Louise. “Lots of people pawn things.”

“I know. But not women of my type, usually. I’m rather hard pressed for money now, so I sold an old brooch of my mother’s. It didn’t bring much.”

Mary Louise nodded and looked at her companion. But she could not tell whether she were telling the truth or not.

“Then,” continued Miss Stoddard, “my visit might look suspicious to some people – after all these robberies at the hotel.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

“But it really proves my innocence, because if I had taken all that money of Mrs. Macgregor’s I shouldn’t be rushing to a pawnshop now to get a little more.”

That was a good point; Mary Louise had not thought of it before.

“Who do you think did all the stealing, Miss Stoddard?” she asked point-blank.

“The Weinberger girl! I suppose you’d call her a woman, but she seems like just a girl to me. She and the young man she goes with are in league together. I think he’s out of work, and the two of them have been planning to get married. So they’ve been stealing right and left.”

“Even her own mother’s watch?”

“Yes, even that.”

Mary Louise was silent. It was an entirely new idea to her. Yet it was possible; the Weinbergers had been at Stoddard House ever since the things began to be stolen. If Hortense Weinberger were going to marry this young man of hers, she could use the silverware, the vase, and the painting in her new house or apartment. The watches could be pawned, and the money would be enough to keep the young couple for a while… Yes, the explanation was logical.

“I have reason to believe that this couple will elope tonight,” announced Miss Stoddard.

Mary Louise’s eyes opened wide with excitement. “If that man is the thief, and if I can see him to identify him,” she said, “maybe that will solve the mystery. You remember, Miss Stoddard, a man stole my watch. He was short and of slight build – but of course I couldn’t see his face. Is Miss Weinberger’s friend like that?”

“I don’t know. I never saw him. But I overheard a phone call, and Hortense Weinberger said she’d slip out about eleven tonight. Could you be watching then?”

“Yes, yes!” cried Mary Louise joyfully. Oh, suppose it were true, and she could identify the man! Wouldn’t it be too wonderful?

“I think you’re terribly clever, Miss Stoddard,” she said, “if you really have found the solution. It will mean so much to Mrs. Hilliard. She has been worried to death.”

They had been so interested in their conversation that they did not realize how near they were to the church. In another minute they were walking reverently into the old building, and for the next hour and a half, robberies and mysteries were forgotten in the solemn beauty of the service. Nor did they refer to the subject afterwards, but walked back to the hotel talking about historic Philadelphia.

Mary Louise went to her room after dinner and wrote down everything Miss Stoddard had said about Hortense Weinberger. The explanation was so plausible that she could hardly wait for the evening to come, with her chance to identify her own particular burglar. If he were the man who had entered her room, the whole thing would be solved and she could go home for Christmas! Oh, how glad she was that she had had that talk with Miss Stoddard!

In the midst of her daydreams a knock sounded at the door. A maid handed her a card with the name “Max Miller” engraved on it.

Mary Louise let out a wild whoop of joy and, not waiting to explain, dashed past the maid and down the steps to the lobby. And there he was. Good old Max – looking handsomer than ever! Mary Louise could have hugged him in her delight.

“Max! You angel!” she cried. “How did you know I’d be so glad to see you?”

“Because I knew how glad I’d be to see you,” he replied, still holding onto her hand.

Mary Louise withdrew it laughingly.

“Women talk,” she reminded him, glancing about her.

“O.K.,” he grinned. “How are you? Solved your mystery yet?”

“Oh no. I’ve had my own watch and five dollars stolen – that’s all!”

“And you call this a good time! Well, Mary Lou, you certainly can take it… But haven’t you had enough, little girl? Please come home with me!”

Mary Louise’s eyes flashed in anger.

“Is that what you came here for, Max Miller?” she demanded.

“No – oh, no! I didn’t expect you’d come home. I just wanted to see you, so I drove down. Started early this morning. Now let’s go places and do things!”