The Mystery at Dark Cedars

“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.