CHAPTER XVII _A Sad Story_
Mary Louise thought she had never seen anyone change so much in the shortspace of two years as Margaret Detweiler had changed. How much older shelooked, how much sadder, in spite of her expensive clothes! What astrange, trapped expression there was in her eyes, like that of an animalcaught in a cage!
"You--are--going to arrest me?" the girl stammered, directing herquestion to the constable.
"I am doing just what Miss Gay says, at the present time," replied theman. "So far, I don't know that you're guilty of any crime."
"No, no, don't arrest Margaret!" protested Mary Louise. "I just can'tbelieve that she is a member of Mrs. Ferguson's gang. Why, it's tooimpossible!"
"No, it isn't impossible," said Margaret, more calmly now. "Mrs. Fergusonis a special kind of criminal who makes young girls do her stealing forher. She picks up country girls who don't know anybody in the city andtrains them.... Oh, it's a long story--and a sad one!"
"Do you mean to say that you did steal, Margaret?" demanded Mary Louiseincredulously, for she had never believed that story of Margaret's theftat the department store. "You must tell me the truth! For the sake ofyour grandparents."
"I can honestly say that I have never stolen anything in my life,"replied the other girl steadfastly. "Mrs. Ferguson soon found out that Iwas no good for that, so she made me guardian of the treasure. I feltalmost as wicked. But I never stole."
"Thank heaven for that!" exclaimed Mary Louise.
"But now I've lost her valuables, and she'll send me to prison,"whimpered Margaret. "Oh, Mary Lou, did you take them?"
"Yes, I took them. They're at the constable's home now, and most of thembelong to the guests at Stoddard House in Philadelphia. But you shan'tsuffer, Margaret, unless you're really guilty."
"The young lady is very cold," remarked the constable. "Hadn't we bettergo back to my house, where it's warm, till your car is fixed, Miss Gay?"
"Oh yes, if you will let us!" agreed Mary Louise enthusiastically. Shecould see that Margaret's teeth were chattering, and she remembered howcold she herself had been after an hour or so in that empty house.
"Wait until I get my other things," she said, running back into thekitchen for the basket which she had packed early that morning. "I'll putthem into the car and see how soon the mechanic thinks he will have itready."
She returned in a couple of minutes and found the others already seatedin the constable's sedan. Mary Louise was glad to find that the officerhad put Margaret Detweiler in front with him, not beside the tough youngman with his huge guardian in the rear seat. She squeezed in next toMargaret, and the car started.
"The mechanic is going to drive my car to your place in about half anhour," announced Mary Louise. "And then we'll start for Philadelphia."
"Fine!" exclaimed the constable. "That'll give you girls a chance to getwarm. And maybe have a cup of coffee."
"It's marvelous coffee," commented Mary Louise. "It just about saved mylife."
Not another word was said about the crimes or the secret band. MargaretDetweiler was introduced to Mrs. Hodge as a friend of Mary Louise's fromRiverside, and the two girls spent a pleasant half hour in theconstable's home, sipping their freshly made coffee and looking at thechildren's Christmas toys.
The constable, who had taken the young thug away, returned just as MaryLouise's hired car drove up to the door.
Mary Louise jumped up and reached for her coat.
"Wait a minute!" cautioned the constable. "Company's comin' here to seeyou, Miss Gay! I just met somebody askin' for you at the hotel.... Sodon't be in too much of a rush!"
From the obvious twinkle in the man's eyes, Mary Louise believed that MaxMiller must have driven down to Philadelphia again and, missing herthere, had naturally traced her to Center Square. But at that same momenta yellow taxi stopped at the constable's gate, thereby dispelling anysuch illusion. Max would never ride in a taxicab on his limitedallowance!
The door of the cab opened, and a tall, handsome man stepped out, paidthe driver, and dismissed the cab. It was Mary Louise's father.
Flinging open the door, the girl shouted at him in delight, so loud thatMr. Gay heard her in spite of the noise of the departing cab. In anothermoment he entered the open door of the house and held Mary Louise tightlyin his arms.
"Mary Lou!" he cried in delight. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"I'm fine," she replied, ushering him into the constable's house. "MerryChristmas, Daddy!"
"The same to you, dear." He gazed at her fondly. "I believe it willbe--now. You certainly look happy, Daughter."
"I am, Daddy. These people have treated me royally!" She turned aroundand introduced her father to Mrs. Hodge and the children, for he hadalready met the constable. "And, oh, Dad, here is Margaret Detweiler,"she added. "You remember her, don't you?"
"I certainly do," replied Mr. Gay, extending his hand cordially. "My, butyour grandparents are going to be glad to see you, Margaret!"
The girl blushed and looked down at the floor in embarrassment. Wisely,Mr. Gay asked no questions.
"I have all the stolen valuables, Dad," continued Mary Louise. "Everysingle thing that was taken from Stoddard House, and even the money!"
Mr. Gay gazed at his daughter in speechless admiration: she had excelledhis fondest hopes!
"Mary Lou, that's--wonderful!" he said after a moment.... "I have goodnews too. I caught your thieves. Seven of 'em. They are in a Baltimorejail now."
Both girls exclaimed aloud in amazement and delight. Margaret Detweilerstarted forward and clutched the detective's arm.
"It's really true, Mr. Gay?" she demanded breathlessly. "Mrs.Ferguson--is she in jail too?"
"Locked up without any chance of getting out on bail!" he saidauthoritatively.
"Oh, I'm so glad!" murmured the girl thankfully.
"Now we'll be able to take the valuables right back to their owners atStoddard House, Constable Hodge," announced Mary Louise. "I'm not afraidto carry them, with Dad beside me."
Mrs. Hodge brought the jewelry and the money from its hiding place andgave it all to Detective Gay. Both he and Mary Louise tried to thank theHodges for their help and their hospitality; Mr. Gay wanted to give theconstable some sort of recompense, but the good man refused. Only after agreat deal of persuasion would he accept a five-dollar bill as aChristmas present for his children.
"Ready, Daddy?" inquired Mary Louise as she slipped on her coat.
"Just a minute," replied her father. "I want to telephone to Mrs.Hilliard to let her know that you are safe. She's been terribly worried,Mary Lou.... And shall I tell her that we'll eat Christmas dinner withher at Stoddard House?"
"Oh, yes! I've heard about the menu. There won't be a sweller dinneranywhere in Philadelphia than at Stoddard House. But shall we be intime?"
Mr. Gay consulted his watch. "It's only a little after eleven," he said."We ought to make it by one o'clock."
As soon as the telephone call was completed, the three people got intothe little car. Mary Louise herself took the wheel, for, as sheexplained, she was familiar with it by this time.
"Now tell me about your experiences, Mary Lou," urged her father, as soonas they were well under way.
Mary Louise explained, for Margaret's benefit as well as for herfather's, about deciphering the code letter and coming up to CenterSquare and breaking into the empty house in search of the valuables. Butshe made light of the coldness and desolation of the dark house and ofher own hunger. She concluded with the statement that Margaret had comethat morning and let her out with a key.
"But how did you happen to have the key, Margaret?" demanded Mr. Gay.
"I will have to tell you my whole story from the beginning," answered thegirl. There was a tragic note in her voice, which drew out her listeners'sympathy, but neither made any comment.
"Then you can decide what to do with me," she continued. "I guess Ideserve to go to prison, but when I as
sure you that I have never doneanything wrong except under compulsion, maybe you will not be so angrywith me."
"We're not angry with you, Margaret," Mary Louise told her. "Onlyterribly sorry. So please tell us everything. You remember that yourgrandparents have never heard anything from you since last Christmas....So begin your story there."
"All right.... Let me see--I was working in that department store inPhiladelphia, and doing pretty well, for I got commissions besides mysalary on everything I sold. I started in the cheap jewelry departmentand was promoted to the expensive kind. Christmas brought me in a lot ofbusiness, but I guess I overworked, for I got sick the week before andhad to stay home and have the doctor. I'd already spent a good deal ofmoney on presents, and when my doctor's bill was paid I found my salarywas all gone. So I went back to the store before I should--on thetwenty-third of December, I remember."
"The twenty-third of December!" repeated Mary Louise. "That was the dayMrs. Ferguson registered at the Benjamin Franklin Hotel."
"How did you know, Mary Lou?" demanded Margaret.
"I went to the hotel and looked through the old register," she explained."But go on, Margaret. What happened then?"
"I found that a ring, an expensive diamond ring, had been stolen from ourdepartment," continued the girl. "They insisted that it was taken beforeI was away, but they couldn't prove anything. Just the same, I know thestore detective had his eye on me.... Well, that very day something elsedisappeared: a link bracelet. This time they accused me immediately."
"But why?"
"I don't know, except that I was the newest salesgirl in thedepartment--in fact, the only girl. The store detective stepped behind mycounter and leaned down to the floor. _And he picked that bracelet rightout of my shoe!_"
"How dreadful!" cried Mary Louise. "Somebody had 'planted' it there?"
"Of course. Mrs. Ferguson had, as I later learned. But at the time Ihadn't a suspicion. She was standing right near the counter, examiningsome rings. When she heard me accused and told to leave the store, shestepped forward, saying that she was sorry for me. She asked me whether Ihad any family, and I told her they were too far away for me to go to,without any money.
"'But you'll have trouble getting a job without a reference,' she said.'So perhaps I had better help you.'"
"The sly cat!" cried Mary Louise.
Margaret nodded. "But I didn't know it then. I simply asked her whethershe could get me a job, and she told me to come to the Benjamin FranklinHotel that afternoon and ask for Mrs. Ferguson.
"Of course, I went--I had nothing else to do. She engaged me at once asher secretary. We went out to Center Square for a few days, and I met alot of other girls. Two daughters, two nieces, and a couple of friends.We had a good time, but I didn't do any work, for she had two servantsand a chauffeur, and I felt as if I didn't earn my pay."
"Did she give you a salary?" asked Mary Louise.
"Yes," replied Margaret. "For the first couple of weeks. But I had tosend it to my landlady in Philadelphia. After that, Mrs. Ferguson boughtmy clothes and paid my hotel bills, but she never gave me any cash."
"So you couldn't get away!" observed Mr. Gay.
"Exactly. Gradually I began to suspect that there was something crookedabout this bunch, and then one day I found the diamond ring which hadbeen stolen from the store: among Mrs. Ferguson's stuff at CenterSquare!"
"What did you do?" demanded Mary Louise.
"I showed it to her and said I was going to take it right back to thestore, and she stood there and laughed at me. She said it would onlyprove my own guilt!
"The next day we all went to Washington and stayed in different hotels.Mrs. Ferguson kept me with her, but I soon saw through her tricks. Hergirls were all skilled hotel thieves. She tried to teach me the business,as she called it, but I refused to learn. So she made me take charge ofthe stuff they stole. The girls would bring their loot to her, and she'dsend me with it to Center Square. Every once in a while she would disposeof it all to a crooked dealer who asked no questions."
"Were you out at Center Square last Sunday, Margaret?" interrupted MaryLouise.
"Yes. Mrs. Ferguson and I both went. We had intended to get the placeready to spend Christmas there, but for some reason, Mrs. Ferguson gotscared. She said that Mary Green talked too much, and she thought weought to clear out. She made plans to dispose of everything in Baltimore,and then we were all going to sail to Bermuda.... But why did you askthat, Mary Lou?"
"Because I was in that car that drove up to the house then. I saw you andthen Mrs. Ferguson. I wouldn't have thought of its being you, only MaryGreen admitted that she knew you. That made me suspicious."
"You disappeared pretty quickly!"
"Rather," laughed Mary Louise, and she told the story of being hit overthe head by a rock and of catching the young man and having him arrestedthat very morning.
"That was clever!" approved her father. "Who was he, Margaret?"
"A neighborhood bum that Mrs. Ferguson employs to watch the place andkeep the people away," replied the girl.
"But I'm afraid I interrupted you, Margaret," apologized Mary Louise."Please go on with your story."
"There isn't much left to tell. I was too far away from home to run away,without any money, and I hadn't a single friend I could go to. All thestore people thought I was a thief, so I knew there was no use askingtheir help. I just kept on, from day to day, not knowing how it wouldever end and never expecting to see my grandparents or my Riversidefriends again. Oh, you can't imagine how unhappy I have been!"
She stopped talking, for emotion had overcome her; tears were rollingdown her cheeks. Mary Louise laid her hand over Margaret's reassuringly.
"It's all right now, isn't it, Daddy?" she said. "We'll take you home toyour grandparents."
"But I can't go back to them!" protested the other girl. "How can I tellthem what has happened? They'd be disgraced for life."
"You can tell them you have been working for a queer woman who wouldn'tallow you to write home," said Mr. Gay. "A woman whose mind was affected,for that is the truth. There is no doubt that Mrs. Ferguson is the victimof a diseased mind."
"Wouldn't you ever tell on me?" questioned Margaret.
"No, of course not. It was in no way your fault, child.... And now try tobe happy. I think I can find you a job in Herman's Hardware store, rightin Riverside. And you can live with your grandparents. They need you."
"It seems almost too good to be true," breathed the grateful girl.
Mary Louise turned to her father.
"Now for your story, Dad," she begged. "About capturing the thieves."
"I think that had better be kept till dinner time," replied Mr. Gay."This traffic we're approaching will require all your attention, MaryLou. And besides, Mrs. Hilliard will want to hear it too."
CHAPTER XVIII _Conclusion_
Mary Louise brought the car to a stop at Stoddard House at a quarter toone. Carrying the money and the jewels in her father's briefcase, and theother articles in the basket, she and Margaret went into the hotel to getready for dinner while Mr. Gay returned the hired car to the garage.
"I'll notify the police that you're found, Mary Lou," he said. "Then I'llcall your mother. I think it will be best if she goes over to yourgrandparents, Margaret, and tells them about you herself. They haven't atelephone, and I don't like to frighten elderly people with telegrams."
Both girls nodded their approval to these suggestions and hurried intothe hotel. Mrs. Hilliard was waiting for Mary Louise with open arms; sheloved the young detective like a daughter.
"Now, run along, girls, and get ready for dinner," she said finally. "Weare going to have one big table, instead of all the little ones in thedining room. With a tree in the center, and place cards, just like ajolly family party."
"That's swell!" exclaimed Mary Louise. "It'll be real Christmas afterall."
"And thank you so much for the lovely handkerchiefs, dear,
" added themanager. "It was sweet of you to think of me.... That reminds me, youhaven't had your presents yet."
"Put them at my place at the table," suggested Mary Louise. "And I'llhave presents for some of the guests," she added, with a significantglance at the briefcase and basket.
When the girls returned to the first floor, after washing their faces andpowdering their noses, they found Mr. Gay waiting for them. For a momenthe did not see them, so intent was he in the newspaper he was reading.
"Want to see the gang's picture?" he asked when Mary Louise came to hisside.
"Oh yes! Please!"
In spite of the fact that it was Christmas Day, a large photograph ofMrs. Ferguson and her six accomplices occupied much of the front page ofthis Philadelphia paper. In an inset above the picture of the crooks wasMary Louise's smiling face!
"Daddy!" cried the girl in amazement. "Are you responsible for this?"
"I am," replied her father proudly. "I want everybody to know that thecredit belongs to you, Daughter."
Other guests, who had not yet read their newspapers, crowded about Mr.Gay eager for the exciting news. They all remembered Pauline Brooks, andMary Green; several of them identified the two transients who had stolenthe other things from Stoddard House.
A loud gong sounded from the dining room, and Mrs. Hilliard threw openthe doors. The room was beautifully decorated with greens and holly; along table stretched out before them, covered with a lovely lace clothand bearing a small Christmas tree as its centerpiece. Bright red ribbonshad been stretched from the tree to each guest's place, adding brilliancyto the spectacle.
"Hello, Mary Louise!" said a voice behind the young detective, and,turning around, Mary Louise saw Mrs. Weinberger behind her.
"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Weinberger!" she replied. "It's nice to see youback here."
"I've come back to stay," announced the older woman. "I got lonely at theBellevue. And Mrs. Macgregor is here too, for Christmas dinner."
It was a happy group who finally found their places around the beautifultable and sat down. Mrs. Hilliard was at one end, and Miss Stoddard washonored with the seat at the other end. Mr. Gay was the only man present,but he did not seem in the least embarrassed.
Mary Louise found her pile of presents at her place, and MargaretDetweiler discovered a bunch of violets and a box of candy at hers. Evenin his haste, Mr. Gay had remembered the lonely girl.
The guests ate their oyster cocktails and their mushroom soup before anyformal announcement concerning the valuables was made. Then Mrs. Hilliardrose from her chair.
"As you all know from the papers, our criminals have been caught by MaryLouise Gay and her father, and are now in prison. But even better newsthan that is coming. I'll introduce Mr. Gay, whom some of you knowalready, and he'll tell you more about it."
Everybody clapped as the famous detective stood up.
"I'm not going to make a speech," he said, "and keep you waiting for theturkey we're all looking forward to. I just thought that maybe some ofyou would enjoy this wonderful dinner even more if you knew that you aregoing to get everything back again which was stolen. My daughter foundall the valuables and the money this morning in Mrs. Ferguson's house atCenter Square, and she will now return them to their rightful owners."
As the newspaper had not mentioned anything about the stolen goods, theguests were not prepared for this pleasant surprise. A loud burst ofapplause greeted Mary Louise as she smilingly rose to her feet and openedthe briefcase and drew out the basket from under the table where she hadhidden it.
"I'll begin at the beginning," she said. "With the vase and thesilverware belonging to Stoddard House." She carried these articles toMrs. Hilliard, amid appreciative hand-clapping.
"Next, Miss Granger's picture and her fifty dollars," she continued.
Tears actually came to the artist's eyes as she took the painting fromMary Louise's hands.
"You keep the fifty dollars, Miss Gay," she said. "My picture is what Icare for most."
"No, Miss Granger, no, thank you," replied the girl solemnly. "I am beingpaid a salary for my work by Mrs. Hilliard, but I can't accept rewardsfor doing my duty."
She picked up the watches next: Mrs. Weinberger's and Mrs. Hilliard's.The Walder girls would get theirs when they returned from their holidays.
"And, last of all, Mrs. Macgregor's diamond earrings and her five hundreddollars," she concluded, restoring the jewelry and the bills to thedelighted woman. "I believe that is all, for I am wearing my ownwrist-watch, and I have my purse with its five dollars contents."
Loud cheering accompanied the applause which followed. When it had atlast quieted down, both Mrs. Weinberger and Mrs. Macgregor tried in vainto give Mary Louise a reward, but she remained firm in her refusal. Thenthe turkeys were brought to the dining room, and everything else wastemporarily forgotten in the enjoyment of Christmas dinner.
When it was all over, Mr. Gay told Mary Louise to pack her clothing andher presents while he returned the remaining valuables to the Ritz and tothe police. "For I hope we can make the three-thirty train," heexplained.
"But with that change at the Junction, we'd have to wait all night,shouldn't we, Daddy?" inquired Mary Louise. Anxious as she was to getback to Riverside, she had no desire to spend the night in a cheerlessrailway station.
"No," replied her father. "Because there's going to be a surprise waitingfor you at the Junction."
"Max and Norman?" guessed Mary Louise instantly. "You mean that they'lldrive down for us?"
Mr. Gay nodded. "That isn't all," he said.
Mary Louise did not guess the rest of the answer until the train pulledinto the Junction shortly after eight o'clock that night. Then a warwhoop that could come from no one else but her small brother greeted herears, and she knew that her mother must be there too. Yes, and there washer chum, Jane Patterson, grinning at her from the boys' car! And herlittle dog, Silky!
In another minute Mary Louise was clasping her arms around Mrs. Gay andhugging Freckles and Jane and Silky all at once. Max, at her side, had tobe content with pressing her arm affectionately.
Questions, Christmas greetings, words of joy and congratulation poured sofast upon Mary Louise's ears that she could scarcely understand them.
"You're home to stay, darling?" This from her mother.
"You'll go to the senior prom with me?" demanded Max.
"You're the most famous girl detective in the world!" shouted NormanWilder.
"You were a lemon to duck my party, but I'll give another one just inyour honor," promised Jane.
"Did you get your salary--your twenty-five bucks?" asked Freckles.
Mary Louise nodded, smiling, to everything. Then she got into Max's carbeside him, with Jane and Norman in the rumble seat. Mr. Gay took thewheel of his sedan, with his wife beside him; Margaret Detweiler, who wasquietly watching everything, sat behind with Freckles.
The drivers of the two cars did not stop for any food on the way; theysped along as fast as they dared towards Riverside. Old Mr. and Mrs.Detweiler were waiting up for their precious granddaughter, their lostMargaret.
A little before midnight the cars pulled up in front of the old couple'shome, and everybody in the party went inside for a moment. The greetingbetween Margaret and her grandparents was touching to see. Even NormanWilder, who prided himself on being "hard-boiled," admitted afterwardsthat the tears came to his eyes.
Mrs. Gay discreetly drew her own party away, back to her home, where afeast was waiting for the travelers. This, Mary Louise felt, was her realChristmas celebration--with her family and her three dearest friends. Nowshe could tell her story and listen to the praises which meant so much toher.
"But the best part of it all," she concluded, "is that I'm a realprofessional detective at last!"
* * * * * *
Transcriber's note:
--Retained publication and copyright information from the printed exemplar (this book is public-domain in the U.S.).
/> --Obvious typographical errors were corrected without comment. Possibly intentional spelling variations were not changed.
--A Table of Contents and a list of the series books were prepared for the convenience of the reader.
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