SUSPICION
“That is some wreck out there, for a fact,” said Darry, soberly, as he
waved a hand in the direction of the desolate forest. “I reckon that
fire has done thousands of dollars worth of damage.”
“We may be very thankful it didn’t wipe out Forest Lodge, as well,” said
Aunt Emma, coming from the kitchen at that moment and bearing a huge
tray laden with johnnycake. “We might be huddled in the boats now,
wondering what to do next, instead of sitting snug and safe in here——”
“Eyeing the most delicious platter of cornbread ever evolved by a cook,”
finished Jessie, gayly.
“I vote we do something more than eye it,” cried Fol. “Come on, fellows,
let’s get next to that cornbread!”
There were chicken croquets besides and a steaming dish of boiled
potatoes and a bowl of peaches for dessert.
After dinner, seated cozily about the grate fire, the girls could no
longer restrain their curiosity.
“If you keep us waiting another minute to tell us what you did down at
that swamp, I am quite certain I shall explode,” said Amy, decidedly.
“We have seen quite enough wreckage to-day without your starting
something,” declared Burd. There were signs of impatience on the girls’
part at this speech, so he asked quickly: “What is it you would like to
know, fair ones?”
“Oh, Burd, you are exasperating!” cried Jessie, impatiently, adding, as
she turned to Darry: “Aren’t you ever going to tell us about those awful
people who captured you, Darry, and all the rest of it? You must know
how eager we are to know what really happened.”
“It is a pretty long story, and not all of it is exactly pleasant,”
returned Darry, gravely, his gaze fixed steadily on the leaping flames
in the fireplace. “You must have thought my actions for the past week or
two rather—er—curious.”
The girls exchanged glances and Amy said dryly:
“You don’t know the half of it, Darry.”
“You remember Link Mullen up at college, don’t you, Burd?” Darry asked
with apparent irrelevance. “The dark one with the eyebrow
moustache—friend of Monty Reid?”
“Link—of course I remember Link,” returned Burd, his gaze introspective.
“Sporty guy, rather too fond of hitting the high spots?”
Darry nodded. His expression was still unusually grave. The girls
listened silently not daring to interrupt him lest he retire once more
into that baffling shell of reticence which had puzzled them so long.
“That is Link all right,” he said. “Kindhearted, you know, and a good
fellow, the life of a party and all that. But his sister worried about
him, tried to cut him off too much conviviality, midnight parties and
such things.”
“His sister!” exclaimed Jessie. “Oh, Darry, then that tall girl was——”
“Link Mullen’s sister,” agreed Darry.
“But how did she come to be in New Melford and, later, in Gibbonsville?”
cried Amy, and Darry gestured impatiently.
“Give me time. I was coming to that,” he protested. “Link and his
sister—their parents are dead, and they live with their guardian, who is
in South America at present—had a quarrel, and the girl ran away from
home, declaring that if Link intended to ruin himself she did not intend
to stay around and watch him do it.”
“Must have been a bird of a quarrel,” murmured Burd, appreciatively. “Go
ahead, old man, what happened next?”
“The girl kept her word and slipped away the next day, taking only a
grip with her and leaving no word as to her destination.”
“But where do you come in, Darry?” asked Jessie, softly.
“Right about here,” returned the boy, smiling at her. “Link was pretty
much cut up, and he came to me and asked me to help him find his sister.
Of course I said I would, but I hadn’t the least idea in the world how I
was going to do it.”
“You knew her by sight, then, did you?” asked Amy.
“Link had brought her up to one or two of the college affairs,” replied
Darry. “He was mighty proud and fond of her.”
“But not proud or fond enough to reform for her sweet sake,” remarked
Amy dryly.
“I imagine this has been a lesson to him. He told me that if he was ever
lucky enough to get Eileen back he would never do another thing to cross
her as long as he lived. He was afraid she might be tempted to do
something desperate, you see.”
“I guess he was right. If you could call passing counterfeit five-dollar
bills desperate,” remarked Amy, and Darry took her up quickly.
“That is just the point,” he countered. “The girl didn’t know the bill
was counterfeit.”
“That is what they all say,” remarked Amy, unconvinced. Jessie broke in
before Darry could voice his exasperation.
“How did she happen to get this bill, Darry?” she asked quietly. Darry
turned to her with a gesture of relief.
“She befriended a strange woman, prevented her being run over when she
was crossing the street. Eileen told me when I hunted her up at
Gibbonsville that the woman seemed to be in a befuddled condition,
whether from liquor or drugs she could not say, and she had given Eileen
in return for her service a five-dollar bill.”
“The counterfeit!” cried Amy, dramatically. “At last we are on the
trail!”
“We were!” Darry unexpectedly agreed with her. “Amazed at the
magnificence of this gift for so comparatively small a service, Eileen
made inquiries and found that the woman in all probability was a member
of a gang who had been suspected at different times of trying to pass
counterfeit money——”
“And so Eileen presented me with her counterfeit bill!” remarked Amy,
ignoring Darry’s irritated glare. “Pretty clever work, I should say.”
“Link’s sister had already asked you to change the bill before she found
out—or rather, suspected—that it was counterfeit,” he told her coldly.
“If she was so honest what made her run away that time when we saw her
in Gibbonsville?” asked Amy, still not completely convinced. “She could
have stood her ground then and given me the good five-dollar bill as
well as to hand it to you later.”
“Oh, Amy, don’t you see how different that is?” Jessie cried eagerly.
“When this girl saw us she had no way of knowing we were friendly!”
“As a matter of fact, we weren’t,” said Nell. “We were all inclined to
be suspicious of her, thought she must be a member of some
counterfeiting gang.”
“Of course! And, thinking that, she didn’t know but what we might try to
have her arrested. Later when Darry found her and was so friendly she
was encouraged to do what she had probably wanted to do for a long
time—make good that counterfeit bill,” said Jessie, earnestly.
Again Darry gave her a grateful glance.
“Well go ahead, Darry. There is still considerable mystery to unravel.
What became of the woman who gave Eileen the counterfeit bill?”
“Ah, now you come to the real point of this yarn,” said Burd. “You sure
did ask a leading question that time, Amy.”
“From Eileen’s description,” Darry continued, “I thought I recognized
the woman as one whom I had seen in Gibbonsville talking with some
rough-looking men. I did a little sleuthing on my own account and
finally trailed the woman and her companions in the direction of Forest
Lodge.”
“Forest Lodge!” they cried, and instinctively glanced about at the
shadows that pressed in upon them.
“Go on, Darry,” urged Jessie, eagerly. “I believe I begin to see light.”
“You found out about that hut in the swamp!” cried Nell. “Now, I know
why you were so anxious to investigate Phrosy’s ghosts!”
“Hold on, hold on!” begged Amy, rubbing a hand across a troubled
forehead. “You proceed too swiftly for me, as Miss Seymour would remark.
My poor intelligence refuses to follow your drift.”
“You see, it was like this,” said Burd, taking the story away from Darry
and speaking swiftly. “Darry did find out that this woman and her
companions came from the hut in the swamp, and he got it into his
well-oiled brain pan that this unpleasant abode was the home of
counterfeiters——”
“An ideal one I must say,” murmured Amy. “Absolutely safe from
intrusion.”
“Ideal, as you say,” agreed Burd. “And if it had not been for Darry, the
invincible sleuthhound, it might have remained absolutely safe from
intrusion to the end of time. He confided to Fol and me his suspicions,
and we immediately decided to investigate the inhabitants of the
mysterious hut.”
“And you never told us a word about it!” complained Amy. “That is what I
call just plain mean.”
“All the time you said you were going to investigate the queer noises
from the swamp, you were after the counterfeiters!” exclaimed Jessie,
excitedly.
“Not on your life!” Fol chuckled. “When we said we were after ghosts, we
were after ghosts.”
“And, by George,” announced Burd, emphatically, “we found ’em, too!”