The Secret of the Sundial

  CHAPTER IV The Swenster Pearls

  School did not keep the following day, and early afternoon found Madgeand Cara camped on the Brady front porch, comparing notes.

  "I couldn't learn a thing about the Swenster mansion except that it'sowned by an old lady who hasn't been near the place in years," the latterconfessed regretfully.

  "My luck wasn't a great deal better," Madge admitted. "However, I didfind out the name of a woman who may be able to tell us what we want toknow. Her name is Hilda Grandale."

  "Haven't I heard of her before?"

  "Probably. She's a real old lady--eighty or ninety. She is reputed toknow all the old residents of the town and their histories. In her dayshe was considered quite a belle."

  "Where does she live?"

  "That's the catch. She moved to the country a few years ago. She's livingon a farm with her sister. It's in Cahoun County."

  "Then we'll have to scratch her off our list."

  "Oh, I don't know. Uncle George might be persuaded to loan us his coupe.We could drive out there in a couple of hours."

  The idea seemed an excellent one so the girls went to search for Mr.Brady. They found him in the back yard washing the car. With shrewdcalculation they snatched up rags and aided him in polishing the nickelwork. Mr. Brady eyed them somewhat suspiciously and was not surprisedwhen Madge inquired: "By the way, Uncle George, will you need your oldhack for a few hours?"

  "Just for that, I'll not let you have it," he told her sternly, but thenext minute he smiled and turned over the keys.

  Madge backed the coupe out the driveway, missed a telephone pole by scantinches, and sped down the street. She took a main highway out of the cityand soon was in open country. Having previously inquired the way, shethought they would have no difficulty in finding the farmhouse whereHilda Grandale lived. Soon after the speedometer registered thirty miles,Cara spied the name for which they searched upon a roadside mailbox.

  The gate was open and they drove into the barn yard. Squawking chickensdarted to safety and a flock of geese waddled off hissing their protest.The commotion proclaimed their approach, and as the girls halted the car,a woman peered out the kitchen door. She hastily straightened her hairand came down the walk to meet them.

  Madge stated their mission, saying that they wished to visit Mrs.Grandale.

  "I'm not sure Mother is awake," the woman returned doubtfully. "Sheusually takes a nap about this time. But if she's up I know she'll beglad to see you. She does enjoy company and so few people ever get outthis far."

  She led the girls to the house, seating them in a prim, old fashionedliving room. They begged her not to disturb Mrs. Grandale, but she wentupstairs, returning to say that her mother was awake and would be downshortly.

  In a few minutes, the old lady came slowly down the stairs. She wasdressed in severe black, with a long full skirt which swept the floor,and wore a white lace cap. Her face was wrinkled and sunken but her eyeswere as bright as those of a young girl. She beamed kindly upon Madge andCara as they arose to greet her. They did not offer to help her to achair for they guessed that she was proud of her ability to get around byherself.

  "Let me see, do I know your names?" she inquired, studying their facesintently. "You're not the Sterling girl, are you?"

  "Yes, I am," Madge acknowledged in astonishment. She never before had metMrs. Grandale. "How did you guess?"

  "Didn't guess," the old lady cackled in delight. "I could tell thosefeatures anywhere. I used to know your father, my dear, and you're thepicture of him."

  Madge looked a trifle embarrassed at the reference to her father. Hisname was seldom mentioned in the Brady household although no disgrace wasattached to his memory. He had simply disappeared when Madge was a child,and no one had ever heard of him again. Some day she hoped to learn whathad taken him away from Claymore, but at the present she preferred thatMrs. Grandale not dwell upon the subject.

  She introduced Cara Wayne, and for a time it was next to impossible forthe girls to get a word in edgewise, as Mrs. Grandale immediately wentinto a long monologue on the subject of the Wayne family history. Byconcerted action they finally managed to switch the subject to theSwenster mansion.

  "In my day, it was the house of Claymore," Mrs. Grandale declared. "Andwhat a pity that it has fallen into decay! Not that folks didn't say theSwensters would rue the day they built it--it was much too fine for thecity even in prosperous times."

  "Tell us about the Swensters," Madge encouraged.

  "They were a proud family," the old lady ruminated, obviously relishingthe tale. "At one time, old Mr. Swenster practically ran the town. Hisdaughters were in society and they thought the world depended upon theswish of their skirts. At least Florence did."

  "How many girls were there?" Cara asked.

  "Two. Rose and Florence. Rose was the younger and the favorite with herfather. She was a pretty thing too. Far too handsome to suit Florence. Ithink I have a picture somewhere."

  "Oh, never mind," Madge said hastily. She was interested in the storywhich she felt Mrs. Grandale was on the verge of telling, and did notwish her to digress lest she forget.

  "What was I saying? Oh, yes, Rose and Florence were rivals and they wereboth anxious to get their hands on the Swenster pearls."

  "I never heard about them," Madge remarked. "Were they valuable?"

  "They were reputed to be worth a small fortune. The pearls had beenbought abroad generations before and were perfectly matched. They were tobe passed down to the eldest daughter."

  "Then Florence was to have them," Cara observed.

  "According to custom, yes. But that was what caused all the trouble.During his lifetime, old Mr. Swenster permitted the girls to take turnswearing the pearls. They were very jealous of their father's favor inregard to the privilege, or so rumor had it. Florence thought the pearlswere hers and resented having her sister even wear them.

  "Then Mr. Swenster died and when his will was read, the daughters had thesurprise of their lives. It was learned that he had left the pearls tohis favorite, Rose."

  "That must have stirred up trouble," Madge smiled.

  "Yes, Florence considered it a great injustice. She claimed she had beencheated out of her rightful inheritance. For a time, there was adisgraceful fuss."

  "Rose kept the pearls?" Madge questioned.

  "So it was generally believed, but I doubt if anyone ever knew forcertain. The matter was suddenly hushed up."

  Mrs. Grandale relapsed into a meditative silence, seeming to forget thegirls. Then she said, half to herself: "No one ever saw Rose wear thepearls--that was the odd part of it."

  "Were Rose and Florence friends after that?" Cara probed.

  "They went about together but it was apparent things were not as shouldbe between two sisters. Everyone said the pearls brought them misfortune.At any rate, Florence died the following year."

  "Oh, how dreadful," Cara murmured. "How poor Rose must have felt."

  "She dropped out of society after that," Mrs. Grandale returned. "Foryears, she lived alone at the old mansion and then one day, she up andmarried."

  "She isn't living now, of course?" Madge inquired.

  "Oh, no, she died young--shortly after her daughter was born. The littlegirl was called Agatha. She's the last of the Swenster line now, and theysay the estate has dwindled to almost nothing."

  "What became of Agatha Swenster?" Cara asked.

  "Well, I can't exactly say," the old lady responded, frowningthoughtfully. "She lived in Claymore until eight years ago and thenclosed up the place because she couldn't afford to keep such a largehouse open. She went to another town, but where, I can't say."

  "You say she's the last of the Swenster line," Madge prompted as Mrs.Grandale appeared to have ended her story. "She never married?"

  "Not to my knowledge. She did have an adopted boy. Let me think--no, Ican't recall his name. He turned out badly. Agatha thought a lot of himand folks said it
most broke her heart when he got into trouble."

  "What did he do?" Cara questioned curiously.

  "I can't tell you that. The Swensters always kept their troubles tothemselves. I do know that it was something that turned Agatha againsthim. They separated, and after that she closed up her house. It may havebeen because of money or perhaps on account of the boy. At any rate,she's having a hard time of it now like as not. She's getting on in yearsand with no one to support her, it must be trying."

  "What do you imagine became of the pearls?" Madge asked suddenly.

  The old lady smiled.

  "I imagine they were sold years ago."

  The girls had learned all there was to know concerning the Swenstermansion and its former occupants, but they lingered a half hour longer,before saying goodbye to Mrs. Grandale. Before they left, her daughterappeared from the kitchen with fresh-baked cake and a cool beverage.

  "Delightful people," Cara observed as they drove away. "And did you everhear anyone more talkative than Mrs. Grandale? She's a walkingencyclopaedia of Claymore's history. Did you learn what you wanted toknow, Madge?"

  "I learned enough to make me more interested than ever in the oldmansion. Strange about those pearls, wasn't it?"

  "Yes, they turned out to be a sort of family hoodoo."

  "I wonder if they were actually sold?"

  Cara stared at her friend in astonishment.

  "Why, Mrs. Grandale said they were."

  "That was only her opinion," Madge corrected. "Of course, I have noreason for thinking the pearls weren't sold. I was merely wondering."

  She relapsed into moody silence and did not broach the subject againduring the ride back to Claymore. They had remained at the farmhouselonger than they had planned and it was nearly supper time when theyreached the city. Cara requested Madge to drop her off at the Wayne homewhich was not out of the way.

  "Going to be busy tonight?" Madge inquired as she halted the car in frontof the Wayne residence.

  "No--why?"

  "I thought we might do a little sleuthing."

  "Something in connection with the Swenster mansion?" Cara demandedsuspiciously.

  "Yes, I have a notion to go there tonight and watch. It would be fun tosee if that man comes back."

  "Fun!" Cara snorted. "I have other ideas of amusement. Count me out!"

  "Well, if you won't come, I suppose I can get Jane or Enid," Madge saidshrewdly.

  Cara visibly wavered. She had no desire to go near the Swenster mansionagain, but neither could she bear to have Enid or Jane sharing in anadventure which was hers for the taking.

  "All right," she gave in. "If I can get away, I'll come."

  "Meet me at the pine grove at nine o'clock," Madge directed, as sheshifted gears. "And don't fail to come. Something exciting may break!"