_“I wish we had brought some snowshoes,” Merry remarked._
The
Seven Sleuths’ Club
_By_ CAROL NORTON
Author of
“The Phantom Yacht,” “Bobs, A Girl Detective,” etc.
The Saalfield Publishing Company
Akron, Ohio New York
Copyright MCMXXVIII
The Saalfield Publishing Co.
_Printed in the United States of America_
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. Enter the S. S. C. 3
II. Snow Maidens 9
III. A Merry Adventure 15
IV. Interesting News 29
V. A Mischievous Plan 36
VI. Milk Maids and Butter Churners 44
VII. An Unwilling Hostess 51
VIII. Three Letters 59
IX. A Returned Call 72
X. Wanted—A Housekeeper 80
XI. A Rebellious Boy 93
XII. A Sleigh-ride Party 98
XIII. A Bag of Gold 106
XIV. Two Conspirators 118
XV. A Boy’s Repentance 125
XVI. The Heart of a Snob 137
XVII. First Day in a New School 144
XVIII. A Mystery to Solve 153
XIX. Searching for Clues 163
XX. The Sleuths Sleuthing 171
XXI. A Valentine Party 183
XXII. A New Resolve 194
XXIII. A Proud Cook 201
XXIV. Kindness Rewarded 211
XXV. A Much Loved Girl 219
XXVI. A Happy Reunion 225
XXVII. Home, Sweet Home 231
THE SEVEN SLEUTHS’ CLUB
CHAPTER I.
ENTER THE S. S. C.
A musical gong, resounding through the corridors of the Sunnyside
seminary, was the signal for the opening of doors and the trooping out of
girls of all ages, in twos and threes and groups; some with ribboned
braids, a few with long curls but most of them with saucy bobs. It was a
ten-minute recreation between changing classes. Had it been summer, one
and all would have flocked out on the wide green lawns to play a game of
toss ball for a few merry moments, or to rest on benches under the great
old elms, or to saunter up and down the flower-bordered paths, but, since
it was a wild, blustery day in January, the pupils of Miss Demorest’s
school for select young ladies contented themselves, some of them with
opening the heavy front door and uttering little screams of pretended
fear or of sincere delight when a snow-laden gust brushed past them,
leaving those nearest with wind-tossed hair.
Six of them, having no curiosity, it would seem, concerning the weather,
gathered about the wide fireplace in the library for a few moments of
hurried gossip.
“Where’s Merry?” Peggy Pierce asked as she glanced toward the open door
that led into the music-room. “She said we were to come in here and wait
for her. She’s made a wild and wonderful discovery, she told me in class.
If Miss Preens didn’t have eyes in the back of her head, Merry would have
told me what it was, but, just as she was starting, around whirled that
living skeleton and pointed an accusing bony finger at us as she moaned
in that deep, uncanny voice of hers: ‘Miss Marion Lee, one demerit for
whispering. Miss Peggy Pierce, one demerit for listening.’ Say, _can_ you
beat that?”
“I don’t think she’s human,” Rosamond Wright declared, her iris-blue
eyes, round and serious. “Honest, true, I think she has demoniacal
powers.”
“That’s too much for me!” laughed little Betty Byrd. “Where do you learn
such long words, Rose? I’m still using monosyllables.”
“Sounds like it!” Bertha Angel commented.
“To return to the subject under discussion, where do you suppose the
president of the ‘S. S. C.’ is?” Peggy Pierce glanced at her wrist watch,
but, as usual, it had stopped running.
“Time, Peg? According to my old reliable there’s just five minutes more
of recess and——” Doris Dreel broke off to exclaim gleefully:
“Here she comes! Here’s Merry!” Then to the girl who, laughing and
towsled, appeared in the doorway leading from the corridor, Rosamond
cried: “What’s the big idea, Merry? Didn’t you call a fireplace meeting
for the very minute after the gong rang, and now it’s time for the next
gong and we haven’t heard what you have to tell us.”
But Merry, although she tried to look repentant, was laughing so hard
that still another moment was wasted while she made an effort to compose
herself. Down on a comfortably upholstered chair she sank, thrusting her
feet out toward the blaze. She had laughed herself limp.
“What, pray tell, _is_ the joke? I suppose you are aware of the fact that
this is January the tenth and not April the first?” Peggy could be quite
sarcastic at times.
“O, I say, Peg, have a heart! I did mean to be here, but just as I was
leaving class the Living Skeleton laid a bony hand on my shoulder and
told me to remain in my seat through the recess and think of my sins, and
of course I had to, but all I could think of was the peach of a news-item
which I have to impart, and so, the very minute she left the room, I
broke through that mob out in the corridor and here I am.” Then,
twinkling-eyed, she looked up at the others who were standing about her.
“In a thousand years, not one of you could guess what I’ve found out.”
“Heavens, Merry! Don’t start that old gag of yours, trying to keep us in
suspense. Out with it or the gong will——” Peg’s conclusion was not heard,
for the gong, evidently hearing its cue, pealed out six malevolent
strokes.
“Tragic fate!” The culprit was too mischievous-looking to seem sincerely
repentant. “Terribly sorry, girls, but I’d hate to spoil the thrill
you’ll all get when you hear my news by rattling it off in such a short
time.”
“Well then, after school. What say?” Betty Byrd asked, but the gold-brown
bobbed curls were being shaken. “Can’t be done, my love. I’ve got to
practice with Professor Long-locks. Hadn’t opened my music book since
last week, and say, but didn’t he lay down the law! If I won’t practice
by myself,” says he, “then I shall practice in his presence.” She drew a
long face. “Heaven pity me!” Then hurriedly, as they joined the throng in
the corridors, she whispered to Rose, who was next to her: “Tomorrow will
be Saturday. If I live till then, round up the crowd and come over to my
house after lunch and be prepared to hear _some_ news.”
“Merry Lee, _are_ you whispering again?”
“Yes’m, Miss Liv—er—I mean, Miss Preens, but it was awful important.
Please excuse me this time and I will try not to again offend.”
Such penitence was in the brown eyes that glanced beseechingly up at the
spindlingly tall monitress that for the moment Miss Preens was almost
inclined to accept the apology. Herding forty girls to the study hall and
being sure that none of them whispered _was_ rather of a task, and, right
at that very moment she was sure that she saw two heads near the front
suspiciously close together, and so she pushed through the ranks, at
least a head and a half taller than any girl in the school.
“What a wife she’d make for an ogre!” Merry turned, laughing eyes, toward
the girl following her.
It happened to be one of the seniors, and a blue ribbon one at that, and
so the humorous suggestion was not met with appreciation.
Merry’s mental comment was, “When _I_ get to be a senior, at least I’ll
be human.”
Just as they were entering the study hall for a brief moment Betty Byrd
was close. “I just can’t wait till tomorrow,” the youngest member of the
S. S. C. whispered.
Merry put a warning finger on her lips. Betty glanced up and saw the
sharp eyes of Miss Preen turning in their direction.
“Poor Miss Preen!” Merry thought as she sank into her seat and drew a
French book from her desk preparing to study. “I wouldn’t be her, not for
a million!”