KINDNESS REWARDED
Merry, Geraldine and Doris went alone the next day to the home of Myra
Comely. Danny O’Neil drove them there, then waited in the cutter until
they came out.
Myra opened the door slightly, saying that perhaps they would better not
come in, but Geraldine declared that she never caught anything, and as
Merry and Doris had no fears, they entered the neat little living-room
and sat down, while Doris gave the message from her mother.
Tears sprang to the girl’s eyes. “How very kind of your mother to offer
to send us her own private nurse,” she said with sincere appreciation.
“Dr. Carson was with us all night, and he says that the crisis is now
over and that Mother will not have pneumonia, but that she is worn out
and will need absolute rest for a long time. The doctor said that she
ought to go where the winters are milder.” Myra was wiping her eyes,
trying, as the girls could see, to keep from breaking down. Doris went to
her and put an arm across her shoulders. With tender sympathy she said:
“Myra, you’re just worn out with these three days and nights of watching
and anxiety. I wish you would let me telephone Mother to send our dear
old nurse; then I would like to take you home with me for a rest.” But
the girl was shaking her head. “O, no, no! I couldn’t leave Mother. She
still has spells of wandering in her mind. She thinks she is a girl again
on her father’s ranch in Arizona——”
She got no farther, for three girls exclaimed in excited chorus: “Was
_your_ mother Myra Cornwall? Has she a brother Caleb in Arizona?”
The girl dropped her handkerchief and stared in unbelieving amazement.
“How in the world did you know my mother’s maiden name?” she gasped.
“Mother has told no one. Not that she was ashamed of it, but—but—you see,
she married against her parents’ wishes and she knew they would never
want to see or hear from her again. Her brother Caleb disliked my—my
father, more even than her parents did, and so she never wrote, not even
after my father died and we were so poor.” Then with mouth trembling and
eyes tear-brimmed, the girl asked: “Won’t you tell me what you know about
it?”
And so Doris told about the clipping they had found in the Dorchester
paper, and how they had called on all the Myras they could find. “But
_your_ mother was born in New York state,” Merry recalled. “_That_ is why
we decided that she could _not_ be the one.”
Myra nodded. “Yes, that is where Mother was born, but her parents went
West when she was five, and she lived on a ranch in that beautiful desert
country until she was sent East to school.”
Suddenly she sprang up, a glad light in her face. “Mother is awake! I
hear her calling me. I must go and tell her the wonderful news.” Then
impulsively she held out a hand to Doris as she said: “How can we thank
you. Now, as soon as Mother is well, I can take her to the home she has
so yearned to see, knowing that her brother Caleb wants her, _really
wants_ her.”
* * * * * * * *
When the girls were again in the sleigh, they told Danny to race for
town. They were to attend the weekly meeting at Peg’s house and they had
wonderful news to tell.
In a remarkably short time they reached there and found the others
assembled. “Girls,” Doris burst out before she had removed her outdoor
wraps. “The mystery is solved! Myra Comely, I mean the mother, _is_ the
one we wanted. And now that she may go back to her Arizona home and won’t
have to take in washing any more, she will get well, I am sure, just ever
so soon. Myra is going to send a telegram at once to her uncle, and I
know that he will send money to them for the journey.”
“Now all of the mysteries are solved except where the boys have their
clubroom,” Peg began, when Bertha laughingly told them that that even
wasn’t a mystery any longer.
“How come?” Peg asked.
“Well, last night Mother wanted a yeast cake from the store just before
bedtime that she might put some dough to rise. Dad had gone to lodge and
Bob had left early with the boys, so I took a lantern and went to the
store. I had a key to the side door and I went in. At first I was very
much startled to see a light coming through cracks in the floor of a
storeroom over the back part. One has to go up a ladder on the side wall
and then crawl through a trapdoor to get to it. I was just wondering why
thieves would want to go up there where Dad keeps hardware supplies and
things like that, when I heard a laugh, and I _knew_ it was Bob. Then I
realized that I had stumbled on the secret meeting place of the ‘C. D.
C.’”
“Well, that’s a much more sensible place than the old Welsley ruin would
be,” Merry commented.
Having removed their wraps, they all sat about the cosy fire and Peg
passed around the garments they were making for the orphans.
“There’s one thing sure, the solving of our mystery spread sunshine all
right, and so we lived up to our first motto without really meaning to,”
Merry commented.
Peg inquired: “Did you hear anything that the boys were talking about?”
“I tried not to,” Bertha said. “I went at once to the front of the store
and got my yeast cake, but, just as I was stealing back out again, so
that they wouldn’t hear me, I heard Bob say: ‘Four o’clock Saturday.
That’s tomorrow! Surprise the girls.’”
The seven sleuths looked at each other in puzzled amazement. “Hum!
Another mystery, I should say,” Peg commented.
Merry glanced at her wrist watch. “Well, if the boys are planning a
surprise for us, since it is three-thirty now, we won’t be kept long in
suspense.”
Nor were they, for in a half hour, punctually at four, the boys arrived
and stated that they had received permission from the parents of the
girls to take them somewhere on a sleigh ride.
“Oh, what fun!” Merry sprang up, as did the others. Little blue garments
were folded and outdoor wraps were donned upstairs in Peg’s room.
“I know! I know!” Peg sang out. “You remember that time at the Drexel
Lodge when we wanted to stay and ride home by moonlight, we couldn’t, and
the boys said they would take us for a moonlight ride at some other
time.”
Merry nodded. “I believe you’re right. _Where_ do you suppose we are
going?”
It was half an hour later, and the village had been left far behind
before the answer was revealed to them. “Up the East Lake Road!” Bertha
exclaimed.
It was half past five and dark when they drew up in front of the Inn. Mr.
Wiggin, the genial host, popped out to welcome them. “Come right in! Come
right in!” he called good-naturedly. “Everything is piping hot and ready
to serve.” The girls were delighted.
“Oh, boys, you’re giving us a surprise supper, aren’t you?”
“That’s jolly fun!”
“Aren’t we glad we know them!” were a few of the many expressions of
appreciation from the girls as they were helped from the long sleigh.
That “something” that was piping hot and ready to be served proved to be
the wonderful combination clam chowder for which the Lakeside Inn was
famous. The dining-room was warm and cheerful, with red-shaded lamps
around the walls, and the jolliest hour was passed while the boys joked
and told stories, which they had evidently learned for the occasion.
When the dessert, Mrs. Wiggin’s equally famous plum pudding, had been
removed, Bob tapped on the table for attention. “Young ladies,” he said,
“we boys of the ‘C. D. C.’ having heard how cleverly you solved a
mystery——”
“What? _How_ did you hear?” two of the girls exclaimed in surprise.
“Well, that _is_ an important point to clear up,” Bob acknowledged.
“Jack, here, was in the telegraph station about three this afternoon, and
Myra Comely was there sending a message to some uncle of hers in Arizona.
She was so excited, she spilled the beans, and told Jack all about your
mystery club and how you found her mother’s brother.” He paused to look
about at the astonished group. Then, seeming to be satisfied, he
continued: “We boys are working on a mystery, and since you girls are so
clever (no bouquets, please; he pretended to dodge) we thought we would
invite you to—er—be associate members of _our_ club. We hope that you
will consider it an honor.”
Merry sprang up and, lifting her glass of water, she said: “Here’s to the
combined Conan Doyle and Seven Sleuths’ Clubs. Long may they wave.”
“Ditto!” Bob lifted his glass, as did the others. Then they all rose, for
Jack had dropped a nickel in the automatic organ and it was playing dance
music which could not be resisted.