Indignation ran rife among the Lookouts when on Thursday evening they
came into the dismaying knowledge that thanks to Mignon, Susan Atwell
had become a treasureless treasurer. Irma was instructed to write the
culprit a letter, considerably sharper than had been the one of the
previous day. As a last touch every member of the club affixed her name
to it. It failed completely in its purpose. Neither by word nor sign did
Mignon show any indication that she had received it.
Next a committee, composed of Muriel, Susan, Irma and Marjorie, waylaid
her on the road home from school. She met their reproaches with scorn,
expressed uncomplimentary opinion of them and snapped derisive fingers
in their faces. Frequent mischievous letters from Rowena Farnham had
greatly influenced her to continue in her bold stand. The fact that her
father had left Sanford on a protracted business trip had also much to
do with it. Though far from the scene of action, Rowena was enjoying
hugely the triumphant progress of the affair as reported faithfully to
her by Mignon.
The one way open to the Lookouts, they magnanimously refused to take.
Though they were in sore need of money to meet their expenses it had
been agreed after much rueful discussion that they would not call upon
outsiders to adjust their difficulties. Though she did not deserve
consideration, nevertheless Mignon received it at their hands. Very
loyally they guarded their secret cross lest the misdeed of their
faithless schoolmate should become known and she herself branded as a
thief. As Marjorie had argued, Mignon was after all just a schoolgirl
and her reputation for honesty must be protected. Even Marjorie's
beloved Captain and General did not share the secret. She had long since
vowed within herself, however, some day to tell them everything.
March roared and blustered out the remainder of his days. April smiled
and wept her changeable course toward May, yet the secret drawer in
Mignon's writing desk still hoarded its unlawful contents. By dint of
great personal sacrifice on the part of the Lookouts, the expenses of
the day nursery had been thus far met. They were greatly troubled,
however, regarding how they might continue to meet them until such time
as Mignon should see fit to deliver unto the club its own.
Meanwhile Jerry Macy still pursued her lonely way. Immediately after
Mignon's note to the club had been accepted as a resignation, Muriel
Harding boldly accosted Jerry to inform her of it. "Now stop being a
goose, Jerry, and come back to the club," had been her somewhat tactless
invitation.
Although long since convinced of her goose-like qualities, Jerry was not
ready to hear of them from others. She gruffly declined Muriel's
invitation with, "I'll wait until I'm good and ready before I come back,
if ever I do." A note from Marjorie would undoubtedly have met with a
more amiable response. Marjorie longed to write it, yet a certain
stubborn pride of her own stayed her hand. She wished Jerry to return to
the Lookouts of her own volition. Due also to the fact that Mr. La Salle
was still out of town, Marjorie had had no opportunity to seek release
from her promise.
On seeking Jerry, Muriel had briefly acquainted her with the details of
the occurrence that had led to an acceptance of Mignon's note as a
resignation by the Lookouts. Jerry knew nothing, however, of what had
transpired later until, by a curious freak of chance, she came into
possession of the news. It came about through Muriel Harding's rash
promise to Mr. Wendell that the funds of the Lookouts would be
redeposited in his bank within two or three days. Unable to keep her
word, she had gained the united consent of the club to offer him a full
explanation of the matter. Privately disapproving of Mignon's part in
the affair he had unburdened himself of his views to Mr. Macy, an
important stockholder in the bank. Knowing the latter's daughter to be
president of the club he had briefly suggested to her father a course of
action that might prove efficacious. Ignorant of the fact that Jerry had
quarreled with the Lookouts, Mr. Macy mentioned to her Mr. Wendell's
practical suggestion.
Betraying no outward sign of the astonishment which her father's
revelation afforded her, Jerry accepted the advice with the solemnity of
an owl, asked a few astute questions and calmly betook herself one fine
afternoon in early May to the office of a rising Sanford lawyer, who
happened to be a first cousin of hers. When, after an earnest
consultation with the young man, she took her leave, her broadly-smiling
features registered the signal success of her call.
On the evening of the same day, an alert, self-possessed young man rang
the La Salles' doorbell and politely inquired for Mr. La Salle. Informed
of his absence he expressed a further wish to see "Miss La Salle,"
presented a calling card and was ushered into the drawing room. A single
glance at the sinister bit of pasteboard and Mignon began to quake
inwardly. Knowing the professional reputation of her caller she could
draw but one ominous conclusion. To defy the Lookouts was one thing; to
defy the Law another. Undoubtedly he had been engaged by the club to
force her to deliver up the cachéd money. Perhaps she would be arrested
and tried in court for her crime!
Her sharp face very pale, knees trembling, she entered the drawing room,
feeling like a criminal on the way to punishment. Greatly to her
surprise her caller greeted her with courteous impersonality. She did
not share, however, his suave expression of regret at her father's
absence. To her it was an undisguised blessing.
Her fears diminished a trifle as he proceeded to engage her in pleasant
conversation which had no bearing on the, to her, dangerous subject.
Deciding that he had merely dropped in to pay her father a social call,
Mignon recovered her courage and promptly set out to make herself
agreeable. Very tactfully he directed the discourse toward himself and
his profession. He related several incidents of peculiar cases,
carefully avoiding all mention of names, that had come under his
jurisdiction. He ended his law reminiscences with the tale of a young
man who, having quarreled with his mother, rifled a safe in his mother's
room and hid the contents out of pure spite, thus hoping to bring her to
his own terms. Contrary to all expectations his mother promptly had him
arrested for burglary, despite his frantic assurances that he had
cherished no thought of not returning the money, but had hidden it
merely for revenge.
"And--was--he--sent to prison?" Mignon's tones were decidedly shaky.
"No. His mother did not carry it further. She decided that he had
learned a lesson and withdrew the charge. It was a very severe lesson,
however. He did not relish the idea of being regarded by the public as a
thief. His mother felt the publicity to be necessary, I suppose. He had
been a sore trial to her. It must have hurt her pride. Still, you know,
desperate diseases require desperate remedies."
Shortly after delivering this Parthian shot, the disturbing advocate of
the law smilingly took his departure, leaving a thoroughly miserable and
frightened girl to digest his remarks at her leisure. It may be said
that the tragic tale of the too-vengeful young man was absolutely true.
It had been carefully culled from among records in the young lawyer's
possession as bearing directly upon Mignon's case.
At the next regular meeting of the Lookouts, held at Harriet's home, the
members of that worthy organization received the surprise of their young
lives. Deep in anxious conference regarding the ways and means of
raising money to meet their steadily-mounting expenses, they were
startled by a loud ringing of the doorbell that caused each mind to
revert to another occasion when precisely the same thing had happened.
It was Muriel herself who answered the door. When she reappeared among
her companions her pretty face wore a somewhat dazed expression. In one
hand she bore an oblong package, the outlines of which suggested a book.
"Girls," she said in an awed voice, "the unbelievable has come to pass.
Someone please take this package and open it. I'm simply flabbergasted."
Marjorie, springing from her chair to relieve Muriel of it, the latter
dropped down on the davenport with a half-hysterical chuckle.
"Oh!" Marjorie uttered a faint cry, as the concealing wrapping torn
away, the contents of the package burst upon her amazed eyes. Her
exclamation was echoed in concert by the eager on-lookers. Clutched
firmly in Marjorie's hands, they beheld a familiar black-covered book
that had long been missing. On top of it was a neat pile of bank notes
held together by an elastic band. Crowning the notes was a small, gray
envelope.
"What--why--it's our money!" almost shouted Daisy Griggs.
A confused outcry followed her loud exclamation as each girl attempted
an individual remark.
"Open the envelope! Hurry, Marjorie! I wonder what made her send it
back! It's a miracle!"
All this was directed to Marjorie, as she obediently ripped open the
envelope. Exploring it for a note, a shower of small change fell from it
to the floor. Stooping, she hastily gathered it together. "There is
nothing else in the envelope," she said, her lips curving in a whimsical
smile. "Susan, you are no longer a treasureless treasurer. Please assume
the duties of your office and count this money. As for me, I can't
really make it seem true." Turning the money over to Susan, Marjorie
dropped into a nearby chair, a prey to mingled emotions.
"What do you suppose happened to Mignon to make her send----" began Muriel
wonderingly. A second peal of the doorbell sent her speeding again to
the door, her question half-asked. A moment and the alert listeners
heard her voice raised in a little ecstatic cry of "Jerry!"
Hearing it, the Lookouts made for the wide doorway of the living room in
a body. On the threshold their rush was checked. Her arm about Muriel's
waist, Jerry Macy stood surveying them, her round face wreathed in
smiles.
"Well, Lookouts, I've come back," she announced sheepishly. "I've been
hanging around outside the house for the last hour waiting to see if
anything would happen. Of course I wasn't sure, but I had an idea Mignon
would send that money here to-night. I thoughtfully sent her an unsigned
typewritten notice stating where the meeting was to be. I see the
money's here, all right enough." Her shrewd gaze had singled out the
bundle of banknotes on the library table. "I saw the La Salles'
chauffeur stop his car at the gate, so I guessed things were O. K."
These remarkable statements were received by a volley of curious,
exclamatory questions, all hurled at Jerry in the same moment.
"Jerry," entreated Marjorie, when she could make herself heard, "won't
you please take your old place and explain a few things? We can never
get to the bottom of this miracle unless you tell us." Stepping forward,
she stretched forth two impulsive hands. Jerry's own hands shot out and
caught them in a tight clasp. All the pain of separation and joy of
reconciliation went into that meeting of hands.
Affectionately escorted by Marjorie to the president's chair, Jerry
dropped into it with a sigh. "Maybe it isn't good to be back," she said,
a suspicious quaver in her usually matter-of-fact tones. "Now draw up
your chairs, children, and I'll tell you the whole terrible tale of the
treacherous treasurer and the slippery sleuth. But before I begin it, I
want to say right here that I've been every variety of goose that ever
happened. I'm only going to hold down the presidential chair until I
tell my story: Then Muriel is going to take it again and I'm going to be
just a member of the club."
So saying, Jerry launched forth with an account of her exploits as a
sleuth which held her hearers' divided between laughter at her artful
methods and pity for the girl who had never learned to rule her own
spirit. "That's all," she ended. "Now I'm going to beat it--I mean vacate
this chair."
"You mean you're going to sit right where you are," asserted Muriel with
decision. "Lookouts," she turned to the little company who were now on
their feet to protest against Jerry's avowed intention, "there can never
be but one president for us; Jerry, Geraldine Jeremiah Macy!"
And thus in her moment of penitent renunciation, too-hasty but
valiant-hearted Jerry received a never-to-be-forgotten lesson in
loyalty.