The Mystery at Dark Cedars

“Yes. At least, except while we was at the movies. My sister Jennie made William go with us – he never thought he cared about them before. But you ought to see him laugh at Laurel and Hardy. I thought I’d die, right there in the Globe Theater.”

William grinned at the recollection.

“They was funny,” he agreed. “When the show was over, I just set there, still laughin’!”

“They almost closed the theater on us,” remarked Hannah. “It was half-past eleven when we got home, and that’s late for us, even of a Saturday night.”

Mary Louise chuckled. She couldn’t have gotten any information more easily if she had been a real detective. Yet here was a perfect alibi for Hannah; if she had been at the movies until half-past eleven, she couldn’t have stolen that necklace from Dark Cedars. Maybe that bit of detective work wouldn’t make an impression upon her father!

“Of course, I can check up on it at the Globe Theater,” she decided in her most professional manner.

She held out her hand to Hannah.

“It’s good-bye, then, Hannah – and thank you for all the nice things you cooked for me.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Mary Louise. And if you come over to see me at my sister Jennie’s, I’ll make some doughnuts for you.”

“I’ll be there!” promised the girl, and with a nod to William, she went around to the porch to get her suitcase.

Thankful that it was not heavy, she walked slowly down to the road and on to Riverside. She had plenty of chance to think as she went along, but her thoughts were not pleasant. Hannah’s alibi only made Elsie’s guilt seem more assured. And how she hated to have to tell her father and Jane of the girl’s disappearance! There was bound to be publicity now, for the newspapers’ help would have to be enlisted in the search for the missing orphan. Miss Grant would have to know the whole story, including the theft of the necklace…

Mary Louise shuddered, hoping that she would not be the bearer of the evil tidings to the sick old lady.

Chapter XVI

Spreading the Net

Mary Louise spied Norman Wilder’s car in front of Jane Patterson’s house as she turned into her own street in Riverside; a moment later she recognized both Norman and Max on her chum’s porch. As soon as they, in their turn, saw her, they rushed down to the gate to meet her, and Max seized her suitcase.

“If you wouldn’t be so doggone independent,” he exclaimed, “and just let a fellow know when you needed a lift, Mary Lou, I’d have driven over for you!”

“That’s all right, Max,” returned Mary Louise. “As a matter of fact, Dad was coming for me at five o’clock, but I didn’t want to wait that long. There was nothing to do at Dark Cedars.”

“Nothing to do?” echoed Jane. “Are you going to stay home now and leave Elsie all alone?”

“Dad wants me home,” was all the explanation Mary Louise would make before the boys. Later, she would tell her chum about the girl’s disappearance. “I’ve got to go right in now,” she added. “After I have a bath and my supper, I’ll join you people.”

“After supper!” repeated Max in disgust. “We were just considering a little picnic in the woods. It’s a marvelous day for a swim.”

“Picnic? Why, we had one yesterday!”

“And it was such fun that we thought we’d have an encore.”

“I’m afraid I have too much to do to be in on any picnic,” answered Mary Louise. “But I’ll go for a walk or a drive with you all after supper – maybe.”

Seeing that she was firm in her resolve, the young people released her, and she hurried into her own house. Mr. Gay was standing in the living room, holding the keys to his car in his hand and trying to persuade his wife to drive over to Dark Cedars with him.

“Why, Mary Lou!” he exclaimed in surprise. “We were just getting ready to go for you. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“And where is Elsie?” inquired Mrs. Gay. Mary Louise dropped despondently into a chair.

“She – went away,” she replied briefly.

Mr. Gay turned sharply. “Where?” he demanded.

Mary Louise shook her head.

“I don’t know. Hannah said she went out soon after Jane and I left for Sunday school this morning, and the colored woman who lives in back of Dark Cedars saw her go through the woods. But she didn’t come back in time for dinner – or at all, before I left.”

“The poor child is lost!” exclaimed Mrs. Gay sympathetically. “If she wandered into Cooper’s woods, it’s no wonder.” She turned to her husband. “Hadn’t we better get out a searching party, dear, immediately? The Boy and the Girl Scouts, anyhow.”

Mr. Gay frowned.

“No, my dear,” he replied slowly. “I don’t think Elsie Grant is lost. Neither does Mary Lou. I’m afraid she’s headed straight for Harrisburg – and may have arrived by this time.”

“Harrisburg?” repeated Mrs. Gay. “Why, that’s sixty miles away! She couldn’t walk that far.”

“No, I don’t expect her to walk. I think she took the train – not from Riverside, but from the next station.”

“How could she take a train? She couldn’t buy a ticket, for she hasn’t any money.”

“We are afraid, my dear, that Elsie Grant has plenty of money, though she may encounter a little difficulty in spending it, since the new law was passed. We believe that she stole those gold pieces from her aunt – and last night a necklace was taken, so it looks as if she had that too.”

“How terrible!” exclaimed Mrs. Gay, looking at Mary Louise as if she expected her to protest, or at least explain, her father’s accusation. But the girl was sitting disconsolately with her head bowed, as if she believed that every word was true.

“What shall we do, Daddy?” Mary Louise asked finally, in a hopeless tone.

“Notify the railroad stations to be on watch for a girl of Elsie’s description, who probably tried to buy a ticket with a gold piece. Of course, it’s possible she may have stolen some change from her aunt’s pocketbook and used that for carfare… Do you happen to know what kind of dress she was wearing, Mary Lou?”

“My green silk – with little flowers in it. I gave it to her.” The reply was almost a sob.

“I’ll attend to that part, then,” announced Mr. Gay. “And you will have to go over to see Mr. John Grant, Mary Lou, and tell him that Elsie has gone. It will be up to him to take charge of the affair.”

“Suppose he doesn’t want the police notified that Elsie is missing?” asked his daughter.

“It isn’t his place to decide that question. If a person is missing, it’s the law’s duty to step in and try to find him or her. The loss of the necklace is a different matter, which concerns the Grant family alone.”

Mary Louise nodded and picked up her suitcase. She wanted to be alone in her own room; she felt too miserable to talk to anybody – even her father. What would be the use of telling him about her interview with Mrs. Jones, or the establishment of Hannah Groben’s alibi? He no longer entertained any suspicions about these people: the finger of accusation pointed too surely at Elsie Grant.

Taking off her hat and her dress, Mary Louise threw herself down upon the bed. How tired she was! And how discouraged! How dreadful it was to believe in somebody and to have that trust betrayed! Elsie Grant had appeared to be such a sweet, innocent person, so worthy of sympathy. It didn’t seem possible that while she was accepting the girls’ friendship and their gifts she could be plotting this wicked thing.

The laughter of Mary Louise’s young friends rose from the porch next door and came through the open window, but the weary girl on the bed had no desire to join them. For once in her life she felt as if she wanted to avoid Jane. She couldn’t bear to tell her that her suspicions about Elsie had been as good as proved.

Tired and unhappy, Mary Louise closed her eyes, and before she realized it she was fast asleep. The experience of the previous night and the strain of this day had overpowered her, and for an hour she forgot all her troubles in a dreamless rest. Her mother wakened her by announcing that supper was on the table.

Mary Louise sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” she said. “I meant to help you. I haven’t been much use to you for the last few days.”