_A Confession_
It was a little after nine o'clock the following morning that Mary Louise
and Jane set off for Dark Cedars. The money was safely hidden in Mary
Louise's blouse, and Silky was told to come along for protection.
"I'll never leave him home again," said Mary Louise. "Miss Grant will
have to get used to him. But when we tell her about last night I guess
she'll think he's a pretty wonderful dog."
"I dreamed about bandits and robbers," remarked Jane, with a shudder. "No
more night adventures for me!"
"Well, it was worth it, wasn't it? Think of the pleasure of clearing
Elsie of suspicion!"
"It won't, though. Her aunt will insist that she took that gold."
"We're going to get that back too," asserted Mary Louise confidently.
"By the way," observed Jane, "Norman tried to make me promise we'd drive
over to the Park with them this afternoon and have our supper there,
after a swim. I said I'd let him know."
Mary Louise shook her head.
"We can't make dates, Jane. It's out of the question, for we don't know
what may turn up. I want to investigate the Pearsons today. That
disagreeable Corinne may have had a part in the theft.... I'm sorry now
that we promised the boys we'd go on that picnic."
"That picnic's going to be fun! You know what marvelous swimming there is
down by Cooper's woods. And don't forget the gypsies! I love to have my
fortune told."
"Yes, that's fun, I admit. But a whole day----"
"Oh, well, maybe we'll solve the whole crime today! And maybe Miss Grant
will let us take Elsie with us, now that she has some nice dresses."
Mary Louise's eyes brightened.
"That is an idea, Jane. I'll ask Miss Grant today--as our reward for
returning her money."
The increasing heat of the day and the steepness of the climb to Dark
Cedars made the girls long for that swimming pool in the amusement park,
and Jane at least wished that they were going with the boys. But one
glance at her chum's determined face made her realize that such a hope
was not to be fulfilled.
Both girls felt hot and sticky when they finally mounted the porch steps
at Dark Cedars and pulled the old-fashioned knocker on the wooden door.
It was opened almost immediately by Hannah, who evidently had been
working right there in the front of the house.
The woman looked hot and disturbed, as if she had been working fast,
under pressure.
"Good-morning," said Mary Louise brightly. "May we see Miss Grant,
Hannah?"
"I don't know," replied the servant. "She's all of a fluster. We're at
sixes and sevens here this mornin'. The ghosts walked last night."
"What ghosts?" asked Mary Louise, trying to repress a smile.
"You know. Elsie's told you about 'em. The spirits that wanders through
this house at night, mussin' up things. They had a party all over the
downstairs last night."
"Hannah!" exclaimed Jane. "You know that isn't possible. If there was a
disturbance, it was caused by human beings. Burglars."
The woman shook her head.
"You don't know nuthin' about it! If it was burglars, why wasn't
somethin' stolen?"
"Wasn't anything stolen?" demanded Mary Louise incredulously. "Not Miss
Grant's bonds?"
"Nope. They're all there--safe. Pictures was taken down--old pictures
that must-a belonged to the spirits when they was alive. That old desk in
the corner of the dinin' room--the one that belonged to Miss Mattie's
father--was rummaged through, and all the closets was upset. But nuthin's
missin'!"
"It looks as if somebody were searching for a will," remarked Jane. "You
know--'the lost will' you so often read about."
"There ain't no will in this house," Hannah stated. "Miss Mattie give
hers to Mr. John Grant to keep, long ago. No, ma'am, it ain't nateral
what's goin' on here, and William and I are movin' out----"
"What's this? What's this?" interrupted the shrill, high voice of the old
lady. "What are you gossiping about, Hannah? And to whom?"
"I'm just tellin' them two young girls--the ones that come here before,
you know----"
"Well, never mind!" snapped the spinster. "We haven't time to bother with
them this morning. Tell them to run along and not to take up Elsie's
time, either. She's got plenty to do."
Jane laughed sarcastically.
"Somebody ought to teach that woman manners," she whispered to Mary
Louise. "Serve her right if we didn't give her the money!"
Her chum smiled. "We couldn't be so cruel," she replied. "Besides, it
wouldn't be honest." She raised her voice. "Miss Grant, we have some
money for you."
"Money? My money?" The old lady's voice was as eager as a child's. For
the moment she forgot all about the pain in her side and came downstairs
more rapidly than she had done for many a day.
Both girls watched her in surprise. She looked different today--much
younger. Instead of the somber old black sateen which she usually wore,
she was dressed in a gray gown of soft, summery material, and her cheeks
were flushed a pale pink. Her black eyes were alight with vivacity.
"You're not fooling me?" she demanded fearfully.
Mary Louise reached into her blouse and produced the roll of bills.
"No, Miss Grant. We have eight hundred dollars here--your money! The
numbers on the bills correspond to the figures you gave me."
"Where's the other fifty?" asked the woman greedily. "Did you keep it
yourselves?"
"No, of course not. We don't know where it is. But if you sit down, Miss
Grant, we'll tell you our story."
The spinster reached out her hand for the roll of money and clasped it as
lovingly as a mother might fondle her lost child.
"Come into the parlor," she said, leading the way from the hall, "and
tell me all about it."
The girls followed her into the ugly room with its old-fashioned
furniture, and saw for themselves the chaos which Hannah had been
describing. Instinctively Mary Louise glanced at the windows to determine
how an intruder could enter, for she did not believe Hannah's story of
the ghosts. Although the shutters were half closed, she could see that
the catch on the side window had been broken. But everything in this
house was so dilapidated that perhaps no one had noticed it.
When they were all seated, Jane told the story of the previous evening's
adventure, stressing the part that Silky had played at the end. Miss
Grant was impressed and actually asked to see the wonderful little dog.
Mary Louise replied that he was waiting for them on the porch.
"So it was Harry Grant after all!" the old lady muttered. "I'm not
surprised. But I still believe Elsie had some part in it--and got the
gold pieces for herself. She'd rather have them than the paper money."
"Oh no, Miss Grant!" protested Mary Louise. "We're going to track them
down too. We want to go over to Harry Grant's now, if you'll write us a
note of introduction and explanation. He may have the gold at his
house--it isn't likely that he'd carry it around."
"Possibly. But I don't believe I'll write a note--I think I'll go along
with you! I want to talk to that good-for-nothing nephew of mine
myself--if he's home. And he probably is, since you got the money....
Yes, and I'm going to put this money and my bonds in the bank!" She
hesitated a moment. "If you girls get me back that other fifty-dollar
bill, I'll give you a reward."
"We don't want a reward, Miss Grant," objected Mary Louise. "If you'll
just let us take Elsie with us to a picnic the young people in Riverside
are planning, we'll be satisfied."
"I'll think about it," replied the woman. "Hannah!" she called. "You go
up and get my bonnet, and a brown paper package that's underneath it in
the box. I'm going to Riverside."
"You ain't a-goin' a walk, Miss Mattie?" demanded the servant in horror.
"Of course I am. I haven't any car. John may not be over for several
days."
"But your side----"
"Fiddlesticks! Do as you're told, Hannah."
The girls hated to leave without seeing Elsie, but they knew that Hannah
would tell her what had happened. Besides, they would probably return
with Miss Grant; perhaps they could get Norman or Max to drive them over.
Jane chuckled at the idea of putting the old lady in the rumble
seat--just for spite!
Silky came darting up to them as they came out of the door, and Miss
Grant reached over and patted his head. ("It's her one redeeming trait,"
thought Mary Louise--"her kindness to animals.")
"I'm glad you brought him," she said, "in case we meet anybody like that
man you encountered last night!"
They proceeded slowly, although the road was downhill; every few minutes
Miss Grant stopped and held her hand over her side. Mary Louise wondered
what they would do if the old lady collapsed, and decided that Jane would
have to run for a doctor while she and Silky stayed to protect her and
administer first aid.
But they reached the Riverside bank without any such mishap, and Miss
Grant attended to her business while the girls waited outside. Then, very
slowly, they walked the three blocks to the home of Harry Grant.
"He is back!" exclaimed Mary Louise jubilantly as she recognized the
battered old car in the driveway. "I didn't expect he would be. I thought
he'd stay away as long as that fifty-dollar bill lasted him."
"Maybe he didn't have it," remarked Miss Grant.
Jane turned on her angrily.
"You think we kept that, don't you, Miss Grant?" she demanded.
"No, no! Nothing of the kind!"
Before they had mounted the porch steps, Mrs. Grace Grant had rushed out
of her house in amazement and stood gazing at her sister-in-law as if she
were a ghost. She was a woman of about the same age, but much pleasanter
looking, with soft gray hair and a sweet smile. As Elsie had said, nobody
could believe anything bad about Mrs. Grace Grant.
"Why, Mattie, this is a surprise!" she exclaimed. "It's been five years
at least----"
"It'll be more of a surprise when I tell you why I'm here, Grace,"
snapped the other, sinking into a chair on the porch with a sigh of
relief. "I've got bad news. I've been robbed."
"Robbed?"
"Yes." In a few words the spinster told the story of her loss of thirteen
hundred and fifty dollars, and of the two girls' offer of assistance in
discovering the thief. "Of course, I suspected Elsie immediately," she
said, "but it seems I made a mistake. Or partly a mistake, for there is
still five hundred missing--all in gold. But these girls found out who
took the bills and have got them all back for me--all but fifty dollars."
"Who was the thief?" demanded Mrs. Grant excitedly.
"_Your son Harry!_ I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Grace."
"I don't believe it!" protested the other woman. "What proof have you,
Mattie?"
"Tell the story, Jane," said Miss Grant. "I'm too tired." She leaned
against the back of her chair in exhaustion.
Briefly Jane related the incidents of the previous evening, describing
their perilous ride in Harry Grant's car. The story rang true; Jane
repeated the very words the young man had uttered as he drove away, words
which Mrs. Grant recalled easily. Before she had finished, the unhappy
mother was crying softly.
"What are you going to do to him, Mattie?" she asked finally. "Have him
arrested?"
"That depends on him," replied her visitor. "If he gives me back the
other bill, maybe I'll let him go. I don't want to drag the Grant name
into the papers if I can help it.... Is he home?"
"Yes. He's upstairs, dressing."
"Just getting up, eh?"
"He was out late last night."
"Carousing with my fifty dollars, I suppose."
"I hope not." Mrs. Grant rose and went through the screen door. Five
minutes later she returned with her son.
As Elsie had remarked, Harry Grant was a good-looking man. He was
stylishly dressed, in an immaculate linen suit, and he came out smiling
nonchalantly at his aunt, as if the whole thing were a joke.
"Well, I'll be darned!" he exclaimed, staring incredulously at Mary
Louise and Jane. "Are these the girls Mother says I took for a ride last
night?"
"It's a terrible car," remarked Jane.
Miss Grant stamped her foot to put a stop to what she considered
nonsensical talk.
"Tell me just how you managed to steal my money, Harry," she commanded.
"And where the other fifty-dollar bill is--and my five hundred in gold."
The young man's chin went up in the air.
"I didn't steal your money, Aunt Mattie," he said. "I was never inside
your bedroom in my life--at least, not since I was grown up!"
"Don't lie, Harry! How did you get it if you didn't steal it out of my
safe?"
"It was given to me."
"By whom?" Miss Grant looked scornful: she couldn't believe any such
foolish statement.
The young man hesitated. "I don't think I ought to tell that," he
replied.
"Oh yes, you ought! And you have to, or I'll have you arrested,"
threatened his aunt.
"Tell the truth, dear," urged his mother. "Whoever stole that money
deserves to suffer for it."
"All right--I will! It was Corinne--my niece, Corinne Pearson. She took
it. Eight hundred and fifty dollars in bills. She gave me eight hundred
dollars--half of it to spend for her, and half for myself. I was to buy a
certain evening gown and cloak in a shop in New York with which she had
been corresponding. With my four hundred I was going to get a new car and
drive back to Riverside and announce that I had a present for Corinne,
because I was sorry for her about the party, and because I had put a good
sale through. That's all.... It simply didn't work."
"Corinne!" repeated Miss Grant. "I'm not surprised. I always did suspect
her.... And has she the other fifty dollars?"
"Yes, I believe she kept that for slippers and the beauty parlor,"
answered Harry.
Miss Grant got up from her chair.
"You surely haven't any of the gold, have you, Harry?" she inquired.
"No. Corinne didn't say anything about any gold pieces. You can't use
them now, anyhow."
"No doubt she's keeping them put away," surmised the old lady. "Come,
girls! We're going to the Pearsons' now."
"Can I drive you over, Aunt Mattie?" offered Harry jovially.
"I wouldn't put a foot in that rattletrap for anything in the world!" was
his aunt's ungracious retort.
So she hobbled down the steps with Mary Louise and Jane beside her and
Silky close at their heels.