_The Robbery_
The house in which Mary Louise's family lived was as different from the
Grants' as day is from night. It was painted white, and its smooth green
lawn was dotted here and there with bright flower beds. Modern, airy, and
filled with sunshine, the house itself looked like the home of a happy
family, which the Gays were--as their name implied.
Mary Louise's young brother--always called "Freckles"--was setting the
breakfast table when she came downstairs the morning after her visit to
Dark Cedars. It was Mary Louise's task to put the bedding to air while
her mother cooked breakfast. Mrs. Gay did not keep a maid, and both
children did their share of the work.
As they sat down to breakfast Mary Louise could not help contrasting her
life with poor Elsie Grant's. Thinking how different, how cheerful
everything was here--though of course it was never quite the same when
her father was away on a case, as so happened at the present time. Mary
Louise wanted to do something to help Elsie, besides just visiting her.
She had a sudden inspiration.
"I have a lot of clothes, haven't I, Mother?" she inquired as she spread
marmalade on her toast.
Mrs. Gay smiled. She was a pretty woman, with the same dark hair and dark
eyes as her daughter.
"I wouldn't say that, dear," she replied. "I think you have enough. But
if there is something you specially want, I guess you can have it. Is
that why you ask?"
"No," replied Mary Louise laughingly. "It's just the other way around.
Instead of buying more, what I want to do is to give some away. A couple
of dresses, perhaps, and some lingerie. And a pair of slippers."
Mrs. Gay nodded approvingly. Being both a neat housekeeper and a
charitable woman, she loved to clear things out and, if possible, give
them to someone who could use them.
"Yes," she said. "I was thinking of making up a package to send to the
Salvation Army today. That old blue sweater of yours could go, and the
red woolen dress----"
"No! No!" interrupted Mary Louise. "I didn't mean things like that,
Mother. I want to give away a couple of nice dresses. Like my green
flowered silk, for instance, and my pink linen. May I?"
"Why, Mary Louise! I thought you especially liked those dresses. What's
the matter with them?"
"Nothing. I do like them a lot. That's why I chose them. I want to give
them to a girl who hasn't had a new dress for over two years."
"Who is she?" asked Mrs. Gay sympathetically.
"A niece of old Miss Grant. You know--that queer old maid who lives at
Dark Cedars. About a mile out of town."
Her mother nodded.
"Yes, I know where you mean, dear. But that woman is reputed to be
rich--much better off than we are. I can't understand----"
"Of course you can't, Mother, unless you see poor Elsie Grant. She's
about my age--a year younger, to be exact--and she's an orphan. Two years
ago, when her mother died, she came to live with Miss Grant because she
hadn't anywhere to go and no money. And the old lady treats her
shamefully. Dresses her in those old calico dresses that servants used to
wear years ago. So Elsie can't go anywhere, not even to school."
Mrs. Gay's lips closed tightly, and her eyes narrowed.
"So that's the kind of woman Miss Grant is!" she muttered. "I always knew
she was queer, but I never thought she was cruel.... Yes, of course you
can give the girl some clothing, dear. Go pick out anything you want,
except those brand-new things we bought last week for our trip in
August."
Mary Louise lost no time in making her selection. She piled the clothing
on her bed, after she had put her room in order, and called her mother in
for her approval. But before tying up the package she whistled for Jane
from her window.
Her chum came running across the grass that grew between the two houses
and bounded up the steps. Briefly Mary Louise explained what she was
doing.
"But I want to give Elsie something too," Jane said. "She ought to have
some kind of summer coat and a hat. Wait till I ask Mother."
She returned in less than five minutes bringing a lovely white wool coat
and a white felt hat to match it. Mary Louise tied up the bundle.
"Please ask Freckles to take care of Silky this morning, Mother," she
said. "I'm afraid that perhaps Miss Grant might not like him."
The girls started off immediately through the streets of Riverside to the
lonely road that led to Dark Cedars.
"I sort of wish we had Silky with us," observed Jane as they approached
the house. "He is a protection."
Mary Louise laughed.
"But there isn't anything to protect us from! Elsie said nothing ever
happened in the daytime."
A stifled sob coming from under the cedar trees caused the girls to stop
abruptly and peer in among the low branches. There, half concealed by the
thick growth, sat Elsie Grant, crying bitterly.
Mary Louise and Jane were beside her in a second.
"What's the matter, Elsie?" demanded Mary Louise. "What happened?"
The girl raised her tear-stained face and attempted to smile. For Mary
Louise and Jane came nearest to being her friends of all the people in
the world.
"Aunt Mattie has been robbed," she said. "And--everybody thinks I did
it!"
"You!" cried Jane. "Oh, how awful!"
The girls sat down on the ground beside her and asked her to tell them
all about it. The bundle of clothing was forgotten for the time being in
this new, overwhelming catastrophe.
"My aunt has a big old safe in her room, that she always keeps locked,"
Elsie began. "She hasn't any faith in banks, she says, because they are
always closing, so all her money is in this safe. I've often heard Aunt
Grace try to make Aunt Mattie stop hoarding, but Aunt Mattie always
refuses. She loves to have it where she can see it and count it."
"A regular miser," remarked Jane.
"Yes. It's her one joy in life--besides the little kitten. Every morning
after breakfast she opens that safe and counts her money over again."
"Doesn't she ever spend any?" asked Mary Louise.
"A little, of course. She pays William and Hannah a small amount, and she
buys some food, especially in winter. But we have a garden, you know, and
chickens and a cow."
"When did she miss this money?"
"This morning. It was there yesterday. Aunt Mattie counted it right after
you girls went home. You can hear her say the figures out loud and sort
of chuckle to herself. But today she just let out a scream. It was
horrible! I thought she was dying."
"Maybe it was taken last night," said Mary Louise. "Did you hear any of
those queer noises--I mean the kind you heard before, when you thought
somebody searched that old trunk in the attic?"
"No, I didn't. That's the worst part. Nobody else heard anything, either,
all night long, and no door locks were broken. Of course, a burglar might
have entered over the front porch roof, through Aunt Mattie's window. But
she's a light sleeper, and she says she never heard a sound."
"So of course she claims you stole it!"
Elsie nodded and started to cry again.
"But I didn't! I give you my word I didn't!"
"Of course you didn't, Elsie. We believe you."
"Aunt Mattie did everything but torture me to get a confession out of me.
She said if I didn't own up to it and give it back she'd send me to a
reform school, and I'd be branded as a criminal for the rest of my life."
"She couldn't do that!" exclaimed Mary Louise furiously. "If she has no
proof ... I'll tell you what I'll do, Elsie! I'll put my father on the
case when he comes home! He's a detective on the police force, and he's
just wonderful. He'll find the real thief."
Elsie shook her head.
"No, I'm afraid you can't do that. Because Aunt Mattie distinctly said
that she won't have the police meddling in this. She says that if I
didn't steal the money somebody else in the family did."
"What family?"
"Aunt Grace's family. She's the Mrs. Grant, you know, who lives in
Riverside. She has three grown-up children and one grandchild. Aunt
Mattie says one of these relatives is guilty, if I'm not, and she'll find
out herself, without bringing shame upon the Grant name."
Mary Louise groaned.
"The only thing I can see for us to do, then, is to be detectives
ourselves. Jane and I will do all we can to help you, won't we, Jane?"
Her chum nodded. "At least, if we don't have to get into any spookiness
at night," she amended. "Those mysterious sounds you told us about,
Elsie----"
"They may all have some connection with this robbery," announced Mary
Louise. "And I'd like to find out!"
Elsie looked doubtful.
"I only hope Aunt Mattie doesn't try the bread-and-water diet on me, to
get a confession. Really, you have no idea how awful that is till you try
it. You just get crazy for some real food. You'd be almost willing to lie
to get it, even if you knew the lie was going to hurt you."
"If she tries that, you let us know," cried Jane angrily, "and we'll
bring our parents right over here!"
"All right, I will." Elsie seemed to find some relief in the promise.
"Elsie," said Mary Louise very seriously, "tell me who you really think
did steal the money."
The girl considered the problem carefully.
"I believe it was somebody in Aunt Grace's family," she replied slowly.
"Because they used to be rich, and now they are poor. And I think that if
a burglar had entered the house, somebody, probably Aunt Mattie, would
have wakened up."
"Couldn't he have entered before your aunt went to bed?" suggested Mary
Louise.
"Maybe. But Aunt Mattie was on the front porch all evening, and she'd
probably have heard him."
"All right, then," agreed Mary Louise. "Let's drop the idea of the
burglar for the time being. Let's hear about the family--your aunt
Grace's family, I mean."
She reached into her pocket and took out a pencil and notebook, which she
had provided for the purpose of writing down any items of clothing that
Elsie might particularly want. Instead of that, she would list the
possible suspects, the way her father usually did when he was working on
a murder case.
"Go ahead," she said. "I'm ready now. Tell me how many brothers and
sisters your aunt Mattie had, and everything else you can."
"Aunt Mattie had only two brothers, and not any sisters at all. My father
was one brother, and Aunt Grace's husband was the other. They're both
dead."
"Then your aunt Grace isn't your aunt Mattie's real sister?" inquired
Jane.
"No. But Aunt Mattie seems to like her better than any of her blood
relations, even if she is only a sister-in-law. She comes over here
pretty often."
"Maybe she took the money."
Elsie looked shocked.
"Not Aunt Grace! She's too religious. Always going to church and talking
about right and wrong. She even argued with Aunt Mattie to let me go to
Sunday school, but Aunt Mattie wouldn't buy me a decent dress."
At the mention of clothing, Jane reached for the package they had carried
with them to Dark Cedars, but Mary Louise shook her head, signalling her
to wait until Elsie had finished.
"Well, anyway, Aunt Mattie's father liked her better than her two
brothers, and he promised to leave her his money if she wouldn't get
married while he was alive. And she didn't, you know."
"I guess nobody ever asked her," remarked Jane bluntly.
"That's what my mother used to say," agreed Elsie. "She didn't like Aunt
Mattie, and Aunt Mattie hated her. So it's no wonder I'm not welcome
here!"
Mary Louise called Elsie back to her facts by tapping her pencil on her
notebook.
"So far I have only one relative written down," she said. "That's your
aunt Grace. Please go on."
"As I told you, I think," Elsie continued immediately, "Aunt Grace has
three grown children. Two boys and a girl."
"Names, please," commanded Mary Louise in her most practical tone.
"John Grant, Harry Grant, and Mrs. Ellen Grant Pearson. The daughter is
married."
"How old are they?"
"All about forty, I guess. I don't know. Middle-aged--no, I guess you
wouldn't call Harry middle-aged. He's the youngest. Except, of course,
the granddaughter--Mrs. Pearson's only child. She's a girl about eighteen
or nineteen."
"What's her name?"
"Corinne--Corinne Pearson."
"Is that everybody?" asked Mary Louise. "I mean, all the living relatives
of Miss Mattie Grant?"
"Yes, that's all."
Mary Louise read her list aloud, just to make sure that she had gotten
the names correctly and to impress them upon her own mind.
"Mrs. Grace Grant--aged about sixty-five, sister-in-law of Miss Mattie.
"John Grant--middle-aged.
"Ellen Grant Pearson--middle-aged.
"Harry Grant--about thirty.
"Corinne Pearson--about nineteen...."
"But you forgot me!" Elsie reminded her.
"No, we didn't forget you, either," replied Mary Louise, with a smile.
"We've got something for you--in that package."
"Something to make you forget your troubles," added Jane. "Some new
clothes."
The girl's eyes lighted up with joy.
"Honestly? Oh, that's wonderful! Let me see them!"
Mary Louise untied the package and held the things up for Elsie to look
at. The girl's expression was one of positive rapture. A silk dress! In
the latest style! And the kind of soft wooly coat she had always dreamed
of possessing! A hat that was a real hat--not one of those outlandish
sunbonnets her aunt Mattie made her wear! Dainty lingerie--and a pair of
white shoes!
"Oh, it's too much!" she cried. "I couldn't take them! They're your best
things--I know they are." And once again her eyes filled with tears.
"We have other nice clothes," Mary Louise assured her. "And our mothers
said it was all right. So you must take them: we'd be hurt if you
didn't."
"Honestly?" The girl looked as if she could not believe there was so much
goodness in the world.
"Absolutely! Now--don't you want to go in and try them on?"
"I'll do it right here," said Elsie. "These cedars are so thick that
nobody can see me. And if I went into the house they might not let me out
again to show you."
With trembling fingers she pulled off her shoes and stockings, and the
old calico dress she was wearing, and put on the silk slip and the green
flowered dress. Then the white stockings and the slippers, which fitted
beautifully. And last of all, the coat.
Her eyes were sparkling now, and her feet were taking little dancing
steps of delight. Elsie Grant looked like a different person!
"Wonderful!" cried Mary Louise and Jane in the same breath.
"Only--let me fix your hair," suggested the former. "It's naturally
curly, isn't it? But you have it drawn back so tightly you can scarcely
see any wave."
"I'd like to wear it like yours, Mary Louise," replied the orphan
wistfully. "But it's too long, and I have no money for barbers or beauty
parlors."
"We'll see what we can do next time we come," answered Mary Louise. "But
let's loosen it up a bit now and put your knot down low on your neck so
that the hat will fit."
Deftly she fluffed it out a little at the sides and pinned it in a modish
style. Then she put the little white felt hat on Elsie's head at just the
correct angle and stepped back to survey the transformed girl with pride.
"You're positively a knockout, Elsie!" she exclaimed in delight. "Take my
word for it, you're going to be a big hit in Riverside." She chuckled to
herself. "We'll all lose our boy-friends when they see you!"
"Oh no!" protested Elsie seriously. "You are really beautiful, Mary
Louise! And so clever and good. And so is Jane."
Both girls smiled at Elsie's extravagant praise. Then Mary Louise turned
back to her notebook.
"I'd like to hear more about yesterday," she said: "whether you think any
of these five relatives had a chance to steal that money."
"They all had a chance," answered Elsie. "They were all here--and all up
in Aunt Mattie's room at some time or other during the day or evening!"