The Mystery at Dark Cedars

“That’s the queer part. It was open! I thought you had forgotten to close the door.”

Miss Grant gasped in horror.

“I never forget. Besides, I saw that the lock had been picked. Somebody did break it, if you didn’t, Corinne.”

“There wasn’t a bit of gold there, Aunt Mattie. I’m willing to swear to that!” Corinne looked straight into the old lady’s black eyes, and Mary Louise could see that her aunt believed her and was already trying to figure out who else was guilty.

“No, you didn’t have time to fiddle with a lock,” she agreed. “I can believe that… I think I was right in the beginning: Elsie must have stolen the box of gold pieces.”

“Of course!” cried Corinne in relief. “That would explain it perfectly. An ignorant child like her would want only the gold – that’s why the paper money and the bonds were untouched. Did you lose the bonds too, Aunt Mattie?”

“No, they were still there. I put them in the bank today, with the eight hundred dollars these girls got from Harry Grant… Well, Corinne, you did give your uncle Harry that money then?”

“Yes, I did. For the exact purpose he told you about.”

Mary Louise sighed. They were right back where they started, with only this difference: that while Elsie had been suspected of the theft of the whole amount in the beginning, now she was thought to be guilty of stealing only the gold. But stealing is stealing, no matter what the amount, and Mary Louise was unhappy.

Miss Grant grasped hold of the arms of her chair and struggled to her feet. She stood there motionless for a moment, holding her hand on her side. The flush on her cheeks had disappeared; her face was now deathly white. Both girls knew that she could never make that climb in the heat to Dark Cedars.

“You won’t do anything to Corinne, will you, Aunt Mattie?” pleaded Mrs. Pearson fearfully.

“No – I guess not. Go get me – ” Mary Louise expected her to ask for aromatics, to prevent a fainting fit, but she was mistaken – “go get me – my fifty dollars – what you have left of it, Corinne. You can owe – ”

But she could not complete her sentence: she reeled, and would have fallen to the floor had not Mary Louise sprung to her side at that very second. As it was, Miss Grant fainted in the girl’s arms.

Very gently Mary Louise laid her down on the davenport and turned to Mrs. Pearson.

“Water, please,” she requested. But it failed to revive the patient.

“I think she ought to go to the hospital, Mrs. Pearson,” she said. “There’s something terribly wrong with her side.”

Mrs. Pearson looked relieved: she had no desire to nurse a sick old lady in her house, even though she was her aunt. She told Corinne to call for an ambulance.

It was not until two white-uniformed attendants were actually putting her on the stretcher that Miss Grant regained consciousness. Then she opened her eyes and asked for Mary Louise.

“Come with me, child!” she begged. “I want you.”

The girl nodded, and whispering a message for her mother to Jane, she climbed into the ambulance and rode to the hospital with the queer old spinster.

CHAPTER X

Night at Dark Cedars

Mary Louise sat in the waiting room of the Riverside Hospital, idly looking at the magazines, while the nurses took Miss Grant to her private room. She couldn’t help smiling a little as she thought how vexed the old lady would be at the bill she would get. Corinne Pearson had carelessly told the hospital to have one of the best rooms in readiness for the patient.

(“But, if she had her own way, Miss Grant would be in a ward,” thought Mary Louise.)

However, it was too late now to dispute over details. The head nurse came into the waiting room and spoke to Mary Louise in a soft voice.

“Miss Matilda Grant is your aunt, I suppose, Miss – ?” she asked.

“Gay,” supplied Mary Louise. “No, I’m not any relation. Just a friend – of her niece.”

“Oh, I see… Yes, I know your father, Miss Gay. He is a remarkable man.”

Mary Louise smiled.

“I think so too,” she said.

“As you no doubt expected,” continued the nurse, “an operation is absolutely necessary. The nurses are getting Miss Grant ready now.”

“Has she consented?”

“Yes. She had to. It is certain death if the surgeon doesn’t operate immediately. But before she goes under the anesthetic she wants to see you. So please come with me.”

A little surprised at the request, Mary Louise followed the nurse through the hall of the spotless hospital to the elevator and thence to Miss Grant’s room. The old lady was lying in a white bed, attired in a plain, high-necked nightgown which the hospital provided. Her face was deathly pale, but her black eyes were as bright as ever, and she smiled at Mary Louise as she entered the room.

With her wrinkled hand she beckoned the girl to a chair beside the bed.

“You’re a good girl, Mary Louise,” she said, “and I trust you.”

Mary Louise flushed a trifle at the praise; she didn’t know exactly what to say, so she kept quiet and waited.

“Will you do something for me?” asked the old lady.

“Yes, of course, Miss Grant,” replied Mary Louise. “If I can.”

“I want you to live at Dark Cedars while I’m here in the hospital. Take Jane with you, if you want to, and your dog too – but plan to stay there.”

“I can’t be there every minute, Miss Grant. Tomorrow I’ve promised to go on a picnic.”

“Oh, that’s all right! I remember now, you told me. Take Elsie with you. But go back to Dark Cedars at night. Sleep in my room. And shut the door!”

Mary Louise looked puzzled; she could not see the reason for such a request.

“But there isn’t anything valuable for anybody to steal now, is there, Miss Grant?” she inquired. “You put your money and your bonds in the bank today.”

The sick woman gasped for breath and for a moment she could not speak. Finally she said, “You heard about last night from Hannah? And saw the way things were upset?”

“Yes. But if the burglars didn’t take anything, they won’t be likely to return, will they?”

Miss Grant closed her eyes.

“It wasn’t common burglars,” she said.

Mary Louise started. Did Miss Grant believe in Hannah’s theory about the ghosts?

“You don’t mean – ?”