The Mystery of the Secret Band

A sudden swift feeling of homesickness took possession of Mary Louise, a violent desire to be back in her own home in Riverside, sharing the happy holiday confusion. For a moment she felt that she would have to go back at any sacrifice. But ambition overcame sentiment. She would not be a quitter, and leave at the most important time. She would see the thing through as she had planned.

But there was nothing to prevent her wiring to her father to come and spend part of the holiday with her. Especially now that she had something definite to report to him. So she composed a telegram and sent it at once, over the telephone.

“Have caught thieves,” she said, “but cannot recover stolen goods. Leader of band at large. Please come help me. Love – M.L.”

As soon as the message was sent, she felt better and was as jolly as anyone else at supper. She was helping the Walder girls tie up packages and humming Christmas carols when a call came for her on the telephone.

“Maybe it’s Dad,” she said to Mrs. Hilliard as she came into the manager’s office.

But it wasn’t. It was Mr. Hayden, calling from the Bellevue.

“Pauline Brooks has wired to a Mrs. Ferguson, Hotel Phillips, Baltimore, Maryland,” he announced, “asking for five hundred dollars. All she says in her telegram is: ‘Please send $500 bail,’ and signed it ‘P.B.’ But I thought it might help you to know to whom she wired, Miss Gay.”

“I should say it does!” exclaimed Mary Louise rapturously. “Thank you so much, Mr. Hayden!”

She was so happy that she executed a dance. Oh, how wonderful that piece of news was! Mrs. Ferguson! The woman who had helped – or pretended to help – Margaret Detweiler! The woman who lived at Center Square! Possibly – the same woman whom Pauline had called her aunt, by the name of Mrs. Brooks!

Everything seemed to be coming untangled all at once. If only Mary Louise could catch this Ferguson woman! But of course she could – with her father’s help. Thank heaven he would be coming soon! He could fly straight to Baltimore and accomplish her arrest. And the mystery – perhaps both mysteries – would be solved!

So Mary Louise went happily to sleep that night, little dreaming that the worst part of her experience lay ahead of her.

CHAPTER XII

Detective Gay Arrives

Mary Louise awakened the following morning with a delightful sense of expectancy. It was the day before Christmas! Surely her father would come; he would know how much she wanted him, and her mother would be unselfish enough to urge him to go. He would bring Mary Louise her Christmas presents and take her out to Christmas dinner.

She dressed quickly and hurried down to the lobby to ask the secretary whether there was any message for her. None had arrived as yet, but by the time she had finished her breakfast it came.

“Arrive about noon to stay over Christmas with you. Love – Dad,” were the precious words she read.

Her eyes sparkling with anticipation, Mary Louise ran to Mrs. Hilliard with her good news.

“So you see I don’t need to go home,” she said. “I can hardly wait till he comes!”

“I’m so glad, dear,” replied the manager. “You’ve been an awfully good sport about being away from your family – and now you’re getting your reward.”

“I think I’ll put in my time till he arrives by going over to visit my friend Pauline Brooks,” said Mary Louise. “I’d like to find out whether she obtained her bail yet.”

“You better be careful,” warned Mrs. Hilliard. “That girl probably hates you now, and if she’s free there’s no telling what she might do to you!”

“I know she hates me. But she can’t do a thing. Especially with guards all around… And I’ll be back before Dad comes. I want to be on the spot to greet him.”

She put on her hat and coat and went to the address which Mr. Hayden had written down for her on the paper. She encountered no difficulty in finding her way to the matron who had charge of the women prisoners.

“I am Mary Louise Gay,” she said. “A private detective in the employ of the manager of Stoddard House. I believe that two of your prisoners – Pauline Brooks and Mary Green – are guilty of some robberies there, as well as at the Bellevue, where they were caught. But I haven’t evidence enough to prove my case. I thought if I might talk to these girls – ”

The matron interrupted her. “You can’t do that, Miss Gay,” she said, “because they have already been released on bail, until their case comes up next month.”

“How did they get the money – it was five hundred dollars, wasn’t it? – so soon?”

“They wired yesterday to a Mrs. Ferguson in Baltimore. Miss Brooks received a registered letter this morning, and the girls left half an hour ago.”

Mary Louise sighed; it seemed as if she were always too late. Why hadn’t she come here before breakfast, since she knew from Mr. Hayden last night that the girls had telegraphed a request for the money?

“Where did they go?” was her next question.

“I don’t know. They are to report back here on the morning of January second – or forfeit their bail.”

“They won’t be back,” announced Mary Louise. “Five hundred dollars is nothing to them.”

The matron turned to read a letter; she had no more time to discuss the subject with the young detective. But Mary Louise lingered.

“I just want to ask one more question,” she said; “and then I won’t take any more of your time. Was there a letter from this Mrs. Ferguson, or did she merely send the money?”

“There was a letter. I had it copied, because Mr. Hayden told me to keep copies of any correspondence these girls had while they were here… Wait a minute – yes, here it is. You may read it for yourself.”

Mary Louise took the copy eagerly and read it as quickly as she could. The writing was poor but entirely legible, and the words were spelled right. But the subject matter was so rambling that in certain places she was not sure that she read it correctly. This was the letter which she finally deciphered:

Dear Girls:

You poor girls! Meet your misfortune with this $500. U.S. justice is terrible! In what other country would they detain innocent girls?

Baltimore is where I am now, but I am leaving immediately for a trip to Florida. Margaret can’t go with me on account of school. Will you write to her? Get her address from the phone book.

Treasure Island is playing at the movies, and we liked it a lot. From my observation it is like the book. C.S. enjoyed it thoroughly. And so did I. Bring me back the book if you go home for Christmas. It was mine anyhow.

Tonight I am packing. Baltimore is tiresome, and I’ll be glad to leave.

    Love,
    Aunt Ethel.

“May I make another copy of this letter?” Mary Louise asked the matron. Since it was rather peculiar, it would bear studying. Besides, it mentioned Margaret, and that might mean Margaret Detweiler.

The matron agreed.

“Yes, sit down at that desk. Or do you want a typewriter?”

“Well, if you can lend me one,” answered Mary Louise. She had learned typing at school, thinking it would come in handy in her chosen profession.

So she typed the letter carefully and put it into her handbag.

As she stepped out into the open air again she saw by one of the big clocks on the street that it was only a little past ten. Two hours to wait until she saw her father! Two hours, with nothing to do. It seemed rather ridiculous that she should be so idle when everybody else was apparently so busy. The throngs of people on the streets rushed along as if there were not a minute to lose.

“I can go in here and buy some handkerchiefs for Mrs. Hilliard for Christmas,” she thought, as she entered a department store. All the rest of her gifts had been bought and wrapped up long ago; they were piled neatly in a box at home, ready for her mother to distribute to her family and her friends on Christmas morning.

The organ in the store was playing Christmas music; Mary Louise lingered for a while after she made her purchase to listen to it. She felt very happy because her father was coming.