The Mystery of the Secret Band

“Thank you very much,” said Mr. Gay as he pocketed the list. “I’ll let you know if I have any success.”

The taxi was waiting outside the hotel, and Mary Louise jumped into it first.

“I’ll ride to the station with you, Daddy,” she said. “Do you think you’ll be back tonight?”

“Maybe,” he answered. “But we’ll have a fine Christmas together tomorrow.”

He was just in time to catch his train. Mary Louise watched it pull out of the station and wondered what in the world she would do to pass the afternoon. Slowly she walked out to the street and looked at the Christmas displays in the shop windows.

She had gone about two blocks when she stopped to examine a particularly attractive display, featuring a small, real Christmas tree, when she noticed that the shop into whose window she was gazing was a tea room. A cup of hot chocolate ought to taste good, she decided – rich and hot, with whipped cream on the top! So she opened the door and went inside.

Little did she realize at that moment how thankful she was to be later on for that one cup of chocolate and the plate of little cakes that she ordered!

CHAPTER XIII

A Prisoner in the Dark

While Mary Louise waited for her chocolate to be served, she took the copy of the letter from her handbag and read it again. The woman said she was going to Florida. Oh, suppose her father should be too late to catch her!

“But if Mrs. Ferguson really is a crook, why should she write all her plans to a prisoner, when she would know that the letter would be censored?” Mary Louise asked herself.

Her eyes narrowed. The woman had written the letter on purpose to deceive them! She probably had no intention of going to Florida! Perhaps it was a code letter.

Mary Louise recalled the Lindbergh case, in which the kidnaper had written a letter to a prisoner in which the second word of every sentence was a key, thus forming a message. She decided to try to discover something like that for herself. She read the letter again:

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.

On a page of her notebook Mary Louise wrote down each second word and read the result to herself:

“Poor – your – courts – what – is – can’t – her – island – ”

“Shucks! That doesn’t mean a thing!” she muttered in disgust. “I guess I was crazy. But just the same, it does seem like a dumb sort of letter if it hasn’t some underlying meaning.”

The waitress brought her chocolate in a lovely little blue pot, and the whipped cream in a bowl. On a plate of the same set, dainty pink and white cakes were piled.

“It’s a good thing I’m not dieting,” thought Mary Louise, as she poured out a steaming cup of chocolate. “This certainly looks delicious!”

She wondered idly, as she finished her refreshments, whether she should go to a picture show, just to put in her time. She wasn’t exactly in the mood for that kind of entertainment; her own life was too exciting at the present moment to allow her to feel the need for fiction. So, while she waited for her bill, she glanced again at the letter in her handbag.

“I might try the first word of each sentence,” she thought. “To see whether I could form a message that way. Though I should think that would be too obvious… Still, I’ll see what happens.”

She jotted down the opening word of each sentence on another page of her notebook.

“You – meet – us – in – Baltimore – Margaret – will – get – treasure – from – C.S. – and – bring – it – to – Baltimore.”

It was all Mary Louise could do to keep from crying out in her joy. Of course that was the answer! Pauline and Mary were to go to Baltimore. The treasure, the stolen goods, must be in that house at C.S. – Center Square. And “Margaret” would go there to get it!

Mary Louise no longer had any difficulty in deciding what to do with her afternoon. She’d drive to Center Square as fast as she could – in order to beat “Margaret” there. Oh, how she hoped that the “Margaret” referred to was Margaret Detweiler!

Her hands actually trembled as she paid the bill, she was in such haste to be off. She hadn’t time to go back to the hotel and inform Mrs. Hilliard of her plan. Later on she was to wish desperately that she had taken that precaution.

Instead, she hurried to the agency and hired the same car she had driven the previous day. Then she set off on the road which was by this time becoming familiar.

It was after five o’clock when Mary Louise reached Center Square. The twilight was deepening; already the short winter day was almost at a close.

“I’ll need a flashlight,” she decided and she stopped in at a country store to buy one.

When she came out of the store she drove directly to the abandoned house. This time she did not want to take the constable with her, for he would forbid her breaking into the place. Yet that was exactly what Mary Louise meant to do, if she could not be admitted by knocking at the door!

She turned into the driveway, past the “No Trespassing” sign, mounted the steep incline, and parked her car in an inconspicuous spot behind the house and at the side of the barn.

“Here’s hoping I don’t get hit with a rock!” she thought recklessly, as she jumped out of the car. The darkness was becoming deeper; the silence was broken only by the moaning of the tree branches in the wind. The place seemed completely deserted.

With her heart beating fast, Mary Louise ran to the back door of the house and tried it. As she had anticipated, it was securely locked. A moment later she encountered the same condition at the front door. At both entrances she knocked loudly; at neither was there any response.

“Just the same, I’m going to get in!” she muttered resolutely. “If I have to climb over the porch to a second-story window!”

She walked around the house again, more slowly this time, examining each window as she passed it. Everywhere she found boards nailed over the glass. On only one window at the side did she discover a partial opening. It was the window through which she had seen the face of the young girl with the ugly woman beside her.

Mary Louise’s heart leaped up in joy. She could break through that glass and get in!

The window which she was examining was at least three feet from the ground, and two boards were nailed across the lower sash. But by standing on a log which she dragged to the spot she was able to reach the upper sash. With the aid of a stone she smashed the glass into bits.

It would have been easier to climb through the opening without her fur coat, but Mary Louise felt sure that she would need its protection in the damp, cold house. How thankful she was later on that she had not yielded to her first impulse!

She accomplished the feat successfully, however, without even tearing her clothing or breaking her flashlight, and stood on the floor of a room which she soon identified as the dining room.

It was horribly cold and damp inside the house, but Mary Louise scarcely noticed it at first. A thrill of excitement sent a pleasant glow through her body. She was going to search for the treasure!

Keeping her flashlight turned on, she gave a quick glance about the room. A table, half a dozen chairs, a sideboard of beautiful mahogany, and a china-closet filled with lovely dishes comprised its furnishings.

“A good place to begin my search!” she decided, going straight to the attractive sideboard and opening the drawer nearest the top. A luncheon set of exquisite design greeted her eyes.

“Rather grand for a country place,” she silently commented. “Let’s see what else we can find!”

A second drawer was entirely empty, but a third contained a full set of silverware. Seizing a spoon in one hand, Mary Louise turned the flashlight on it with the other. A wild cry of joy escaped her lips; the spoon was decorated with an ivy-leaf pattern! Yes, and there were the initials, too – S.H. (for Stoddard House, Mrs. Hilliard had said) – engraved on the stem!

“So I know that I’m in the right place!” she couldn’t help exclaiming aloud in her triumph.