Оценить:
 Рейтинг: 0

The Mystery at Dark Cedars

Автор
Год написания книги
2017
<< 1 ... 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 ... 39 >>
На страницу:
17 из 39
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля

“What are you going to do to him, Mattie?” she asked finally. “Have him arrested?”

“That depends on him,” replied her visitor. “If he gives me back the other bill, maybe I’ll let him go. I don’t want to drag the Grant name into the papers if I can help it… Is he home?”

“Yes. He’s upstairs, dressing.”

“Just getting up, eh?”

“He was out late last night.”

“Carousing with my fifty dollars, I suppose.”

“I hope not.” Mrs. Grant rose and went through the screen door. Five minutes later she returned with her son.

As Elsie had remarked, Harry Grant was a good-looking man. He was stylishly dressed, in an immaculate linen suit, and he came out smiling nonchalantly at his aunt, as if the whole thing were a joke.

“Well, I’ll be darned!” he exclaimed, staring incredulously at Mary Louise and Jane. “Are these the girls Mother says I took for a ride last night?”

“It’s a terrible car,” remarked Jane.

Miss Grant stamped her foot to put a stop to what she considered nonsensical talk.

“Tell me just how you managed to steal my money, Harry,” she commanded. “And where the other fifty-dollar bill is – and my five hundred in gold.”

The young man’s chin went up in the air.

“I didn’t steal your money, Aunt Mattie,” he said. “I was never inside your bedroom in my life – at least, not since I was grown up!”

“Don’t lie, Harry! How did you get it if you didn’t steal it out of my safe?”

“It was given to me.”

“By whom?” Miss Grant looked scornful: she couldn’t believe any such foolish statement.

The young man hesitated. “I don’t think I ought to tell that,” he replied.

“Oh yes, you ought! And you have to, or I’ll have you arrested,” threatened his aunt.

“Tell the truth, dear,” urged his mother. “Whoever stole that money deserves to suffer for it.”

“All right – I will! It was Corinne – my niece, Corinne Pearson. She took it. Eight hundred and fifty dollars in bills. She gave me eight hundred dollars – half of it to spend for her, and half for myself. I was to buy a certain evening gown and cloak in a shop in New York with which she had been corresponding. With my four hundred I was going to get a new car and drive back to Riverside and announce that I had a present for Corinne, because I was sorry for her about the party, and because I had put a good sale through. That’s all… It simply didn’t work.”

“Corinne!” repeated Miss Grant. “I’m not surprised. I always did suspect her… And has she the other fifty dollars?”

“Yes, I believe she kept that for slippers and the beauty parlor,” answered Harry.

Miss Grant got up from her chair.

“You surely haven’t any of the gold, have you, Harry?” she inquired.

“No. Corinne didn’t say anything about any gold pieces. You can’t use them now, anyhow.”

“No doubt she’s keeping them put away,” surmised the old lady. “Come, girls! We’re going to the Pearsons’ now.”

“Can I drive you over, Aunt Mattie?” offered Harry jovially.

“I wouldn’t put a foot in that rattletrap for anything in the world!” was his aunt’s ungracious retort.

So she hobbled down the steps with Mary Louise and Jane beside her and Silky close at their heels.

CHAPTER IX

The Fifty-Dollar Bill

The Pearsons’ home, an attractive house of the English cottage type, was half a mile from Mrs. Grant’s, in the best residential section of Riverside. Mary Louise, noticing Miss Grant’s increasing weakness, suggested a taxicab.

The old lady scorned such a proposal.

“Use your common sense, Mary Louise!” she commanded, in that brusque manner which Jane so resented. “You know I’ve lost five hundred and fifty dollars, and now you suggest that I throw money away on luxuries like taxicabs!”

“I’ll pay for it,” offered the girl. “I have my purse with me.”

“Fiddlesticks!”

The hot sun of the June day poured mercilessly down upon their heads as they made their slow progress along the streets of Riverside, but Miss Grant refused to give up, although it was evident that she was suffering intensely. When they finally reached the porch of the Pearson home she almost collapsed.

Corinne Pearson was sitting in the swing, idly smoking a cigarette when the little party arrived. She was a blonde, about nineteen years of age, pretty in an artificial way. Even her pose, alone on the porch, was theatrical. She rose languidly as her great-aunt came up the steps.

“Mother’s inside, Aunt Mattie,” she said, ignoring the two girls completely. “I’ll go and tell her that you are here.”

Miss Grant opened her eyes wide and looked sharply at Corinne.

“Don’t trouble yourself!” she snapped, gasping for breath. “It’s you I came to see, Corinne Pearson!”

The girl raised her delicately arched eyebrows.

“Really? Well, I am honored, Aunt Mattie.” There was nothing in her manner to indicate nervousness, and Mary Louise began to wonder whether Harry Grant’s story were really true.

“You won’t be when I tell you why I’m here! Though of course you can guess.” Miss Grant paused and took a deep breath. “It’s about that money you stole from my safe!”

“What money?” The girl’s indifference was admirable, if indeed she were guilty, as Harry Grant claimed.

“You know. Eight hundred and fifty dollars in bills and five hundred in gold pieces.”

Corinne laughed in a nasty superior way.

“Really, Aunt Mattie, you are talking foolishly. I’m sorry if you have been robbed, but it’s just too absurd to connect me with it.”

“Stop your posing and lying, Corinne Pearson!” cried the old lady in a shrill voice. “I know all about everything. Harry Grant has confessed.”
<< 1 ... 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 ... 39 >>
На страницу:
17 из 39