The Mystery at Dark Cedars

“I don’t know what I mean,” answered the old lady. “Somebody – living or dead – is trying to get hold of something very precious to me.”

“What is it, Miss Grant?” demanded Mary Louise eagerly. Oh, perhaps now she was getting close to the real mystery at Dark Cedars! For that petty theft by Corinne Pearson was only a side issue, she felt sure.

The old lady shook her head.

“I can’t tell – even you, Mary Louise! Nobody!”

“Then how can I help you?”

“You can watch Elsie and try to find out where she hid my box of gold pieces. You can keep your eye open for trouble at night – and let me know if anything happens… Will you do it, Mary Louise?”

“I’ll ask Mother – at least, if you’ll let me tell her all about what has happened. It won’t get around Riverside – Mother is used to keeping secrets, you know, for my father is a detective. And if she consents, I’ll go and stay with Elsie till you come home.”

Tears of gratitude stood in the sick woman’s eyes; the promise evidently meant a great deal to her.

“Yes, tell your mother,” she said. “And Jane’s mother. But nobody else.”

Mary Louise stood up.

“I must go now, Miss Grant. Your nurse has been beckoning to me for the last two minutes. You have to rest… But I’ll come in to see you on Sunday.”

She walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind her and thinking how sad it must be to face an operation all alone, with no one’s loving kiss on your lips, no one’s hopes and prayers to sustain you. But, sorry as Mary Louise was for Miss Grant, she could not show her any affection. She couldn’t forget or forgive her cruelty to Elsie.

Her mother was waiting for her on the porch when she arrived at her house.

“You must be starved, Mary Louise!” she exclaimed. “I have your lunch all ready for you.”

“Thanks heaps, Mother – I am hungry. But so much has happened. Did Jane tell you about Miss Grant?”

“Yes. But I can’t see why you had to go to the hospital with her when she has all those relatives to look after her.”

Mary Louise shrugged her shoulders.

“They don’t like her, Mother – and consequently she doesn’t trust them.”

“Do you like her?” inquired Mrs. Gay.

“No, I don’t. But in a way I feel sorry for her.”

Mary Louise followed her mother into the dining room and for the next fifteen minutes gave herself up to the enjoyment of the lovely lunch of dainty sandwiches and refreshing iced tea which her mother had so carefully prepared. It was not until she had finished that she began her story of the robbery at Dark Cedars and of her own and Jane’s part in the partial recovery of the money. She made no mention, however, of the bandit who had tried to hold them up, or of the queer disturbances at night at Dark Cedars. She concluded with the old lady’s request that they – Mary Louise and Jane – stay with Elsie and watch her.

Mrs. Gay looked a little doubtful.

“I don’t know, dear,” she said. “Something might happen. Still, if Mrs. Patterson is willing to let Jane go, I suppose I will say yes.”

Fifteen minutes later Mary Louise whistled for her chum and put the proposition up to her.

Jane shivered.

“I’m not going to stay in that spooky old place!” she protested. “Not after what happened there last night.”

“‘Who’s afraid of the big, bad wolf?’” teased Mary Louise. “Jane, I thought you had more sense!”

“There’s something uncanny about Dark Cedars, Mary Lou, and you know it! Not just that the house is old, and the boards creak, and there aren’t any electric lights. There’s something evil there.”

“Of course there is. But that’s the very reason it thrills me. I don’t agree with Miss Grant and just want to go there because I believe Elsie is guilty of stealing that gold and that maybe we can find out where she has hidden it. Somebody else took it, I’m sure – and that somebody keeps coming back to Dark Cedars to get something else. Something valuable, ‘precious to me,’ Miss Grant called it. And we’ve got to catch them!”

“You didn’t tell your mother that?”

“No. I told her about only what has actually been stolen so far. No need to alarm her. And will you do the same with your mother?”

Jane rose reluctantly.

“I suppose so. If you’ve made up your mind to go through with it, you’ll do it. I know you well enough for that. And I don’t want you over there at Dark Cedars alone – or only with Elsie. Even Hannah and William are moving out, you remember… Yes, I’ll go. If Mother will let me.”

“You’re a peach, Jane!” cried her chum joyfully.

It was several hours, however, before the girls actually started to Dark Cedars. Arrangements for the picnic the following day had to be completed; their suitcases had to be packed, and their boy-friends called on the telephone. It was after five o’clock when they were finally ready.

From the porch of Mary Louise’s house they saw Max Miller drive up in his car.

“I’m taking you over,” he announced, for Mary Louise had told him that she and Jane were visiting Elsie Grant for a few days.

“That’s nice, Max,” replied Mary Louise. “We weren’t so keen about carrying these suitcases in all this heat.”

“It is terribly hot, isn’t it?” remarked Mrs. Gay. “I’m afraid there will be a thunderstorm before the day is over.”

Jane made a face. Dark Cedars was gloomy enough without a storm to make it seem worse.

“Come on, Silky!” called Mary Louise. “We’re taking you this time.”

“I’ll say we are!” exclaimed her chum emphatically.

Elsie Grant was delighted to see them. She came running from behind the hedge attired in her pink linen dress and her white shoes. Mary Louise was thankful that Max did not see her in the old purple calico. His sense of humor might have got the better of him and brought forth a wisecrack or two.

As soon as they were out of the car she introduced them to each other.

“You didn’t know we were coming for a visit, did you, Elsie?” she inquired. “Well, I’ll tell you how it happened: Your aunt Mattie is in the hospital for an operation, and she wanted Jane and me to stay with you while she was away.”

The girl wrinkled her brows.

“It doesn’t sound like Aunt Mattie,” she said, “to be so thoughtful of me. She must have some other motive besides pity for my loneliness.”

“She has!” cried Jane. “You can be sure – ”

Mary Louise put her finger to her lips.

“We’ll tell you all about it later,” she whispered while Max was getting the suitcases from the rumble seat. “It’s quite a story.”