Billie Bradley and the School Mystery: or, The Girl From Oklahoma

Connie Danvers pushed through the crowd and plucked Billie anxiously by the sleeve.

“Listen! Eliza Dilks saw you girls leave by the front gate a little while ago. She reported to Amanda. Of course Amanda promptly reported to Miss Walters. She’s up there in Miss Walters’ office now. I’m afraid you are in for it, Billie!”

“Where are you going?” she added, as Billie broke from her and made for the stairs.

From the first step Billie looked down upon the group of curious, upturned faces.

“I am going to see Miss Walters on an important mission,” she said, with a challenging laugh. “You may come, too, if you like!”

Many of the girls availed themselves of this permission and trooped after her. There was a mysterious air about Billie Bradley and her companions that roused their curiosity and warned them to expect developments of an extraordinary character.

The group was joined on the way by new recruits, so by the time Billie and her friends reached the door of Miss Walters’ office about half the student body was trailing at her heels.

“You all wait here,” said Billie to her escort. “I’ll leave the door open just a crack so that you can hear what happens.”

Billie tapped on the door of the office. After a brief pause, Miss Walters’ pleasant voice called, “Come in!”

As Billie pushed open the door she gestured to Vi and Laura and Edina to follow her.

“I can see Amanda in there,” she whispered. “I don’t intend to take my medicine alone!”

Miss Walters looked up as the girls entered. The troubled frown on her face deepened.

“Amanda has just been telling me about you,” she said, tapping her desk with a pencil. “Did you four students leave these grounds without permission?”

“Yes, Miss Walters,” said Billie meekly, and added unnecessarily: “We have just got back.”

“So it seems!” Miss Walters’ frown deepened. She continued the ra-ta-ta-tat with the pencil on the edge of her desk. Amanda’s triumphant smirk grew until it seemed to spread over all of her face.

“You have some explanation?” said Miss Walters, at last.

This was the opportunity for which Billie had waited. Making sure that the door of the office was open so that the girls outside could hear everything she said, she addressed the white-haired, gracious head of Three Towers Hall.

“Miss Walters, I have an explanation. When you hear it I think you will forgive us for leaving the grounds without asking permission.”

Miss Walters inclined her head, half-smiling at Billie’s earnestness.

“Let me hear the explanation,” she said.

Billie drew a long breath and plunged into her story. She began with the founding of the Gift Club and Edina’s elevation to the post of treasurer. She went on through the strange disappearance of the Gift Club fund, dwelling upon Edina Tooker’s distress upon finding herself suspected of the theft.

When she came to the account of her day in town, including the identification of the blotted five dollar bill, Miss Walters’ interest visibly increased. There was an audible sigh from the girls grouped close about the office door. Amanda’s triumphant grin grew slightly less triumphant.

“So you see, the evidence all pointed to the dormitory maid, Maria Tatgood,” Billie pleaded.

Miss Walters nodded.

“Yes,” she said, “I see. Please go on.”

“Well, when we saw Maria leave the Hall to-night we felt that there, perhaps, was the chance to establish real evidence – police evidence – against her. We should have asked your permission, Miss Walters, to leave the school grounds, but we really hadn’t time.”

Billie was still pleading her case. Miss Walters nodded as though she understood – as, indeed, she did.

“Go on!”

As Billie proceeded she was vividly aware of the keen interest that greeted her account of the happenings leading up to the positive identification of Maria Tatgood as the thief.

At the startling revelation Amanda’s jaw dropped open. Billie, happening to glance at her, choked back a laugh, which brought on such a dire attack of coughing and strangling that Miss Walters inquired with a smile on her own lips whether she would not feel better for a glass of water.

“No, th-thanks,” stuttered Billie. “I – I’m all right now.”

“About this Maria Tatgood,” said Miss Walters, her face suddenly stern. “If your story is to be trusted – and I have never yet found occasion to question any statement of yours – then this Maria Tatgood and her infamous family must be brought to the attention of the police, and at once. I will attend to it.”

Miss Walters was silent for a moment, tracing thoughtful figures on a scrap of paper. When she looked up the troubled frown had completely vanished from her face.

“You left the school grounds without permission, which is against the rules and so merits rebuke.”

“Yes, Miss Walters,” murmured Billie, her eyes demurely lowered.

“However,” continued the principal in her pleasant, flowing voice, “your conduct was prompted by such exemplary motives that I am tempted to waive punishment for this time. In fact,” Miss Walters flung out her hand toward Billie in a gracious, impulsive gesture, “I must congratulate you, my dear girl, on the persistent loyalty and friendliness you have shown toward Edina Tooker, this sorely misunderstood girl. You are a friend such as I would choose for myself.”

This praise flooded Billie with an emotion that robbed her of words. She could only look her love and gratitude.

Miss Walters said softly:

“Edina! Edina Tooker, come here, my dear.”

Edina approached uncertainly and stood before the gracious, white-haired lady who held her own fate and the fate of all the students of Three Towers Hall in the hollow of her hand.

Miss Walters searched among the papers on her desk and drew forth a letter.

“This communication came to me to-day, Edina. It is from your father and it contains news that I am sure you will be glad to hear.”

Edina looked big and awkward and pitiful as she stood there, nervously twisting her fingers together.

“Your father has struck oil again on his property – a genuine gusher this time. I imagine you will be very, very rich, Edina.”

Miss Walters smiled, as though at some secret thought of her own. Reaching into the letter she drew forth a long yellow slip.

“Your father asked me to give you this check – to help him celebrate, he said.”

Edina took the slip of paper without pausing to read the illiterate scrawl across its face. Her eyes were on Miss Walters’ face.

“You been so awful good to me,” she muttered.

“You are worth being good to, Edina,” said Miss Walters, smiling. “Billie and I have always believed that – haven’t we, Billie?”

Miss Walters held out a hand and Edina slipped her clumsy red one into it. At the touch, all the iron in Edina’s nature suddenly melted before a turbulent flood of emotion.