Read Billie Bradley and the School Mystery; Or, The Girl From Oklahoma Page 21


  CHAPTER XXI

  EVIDENCE PILES UP

  For a moment there was such dead silence in the room that one couldeasily have heard a pin drop.

  Then Billie said in a clear, hard voice:

  “Are you suggesting that I stole the Gift Club money, Amanda Peabody?”

  “Because if you are,” cried Laura fiercely, “I’ll settle with you now,you miserable sneak, once and for all!”

  “Girls! Girls!” pleaded Ray Carew. “Don’t let’s fight among ourselves.What Amanda just said is too silly to notice. I think you had betterapologize, Amanda. You won’t be very popular until you do.”

  A murmur of assent rose from the girls, a murmur so fierce andinsistent, that Amanda was temporarily cowed.

  “Oh, all right,” she muttered surlily. “Maybe I didn’t mean that BillieBradley did it. But the thing looks very queer to me, just the same.”

  The thing looked very queer to everybody. As the dreary days draggedby things looked queerer and queerer. The mystery grew blacker andblacker and the general interest and indignation aroused over themysterious disappearance of that two hundred and sixty dollars amountedto a school revolution.

  Many at first stood for Edina, partly for Billie’s sake, partly becausethey could not bring themselves to believe that the girl from theWest would deliberately misappropriate funds entrusted to her by hercomrades.

  However, little by little bits of evidence piled up against thetreasurer of the Gift Club.

  Nellie Bane came back to the Hall one day from a trip into town withinformation that blanched Billie’s face and for a moment shook even herstaunch belief in Edina.

  “I barged into this shop to buy a pair of shoes,” so went Nellie’sbreathless story, “and when the salesman reached into his till forchange, he pulled out a five dollar gold piece.” She paused andregarded the intent ring of faces for a long, impressive moment. “Itwas the very same gold piece that I handed over to Edina Tooker as mycontribution to the Gift Club fund!”

  A deep sigh burst from the group. Billie sat back and passed her handover her forehead.

  “But I don’t see--That is, how did you know----”

  “That it was _my_ gold piece?” Nellie finished eagerly. “Well, here’show I knew! I said some idiotic things to the shoe clerk about howpretty gold money is--because, you see, I was suddenly anxious, veryanxious, to know where that particular gold piece had come from.

  “The clerk seemed willing enough to talk, and he said it had been paidto him just two days before by a stunning-looking girl who said shecame from Three Towers Hall. You can imagine how I felt then!”

  “Did you ask the clerk to describe this girl?” asked Billie faintly.

  “Of course. And, girls, the description fitted Edina Tooker like aglove. It just couldn’t have been any one else! Edina spent my fivedollar gold piece for a pair of shoes!”

  Billie got to her feet.

  “I don’t believe it, Nellie,” she said quietly. “No matter howstrong the evidence is against Edina Tooker, I never will--I never_can_--believe that she is a thief!”

  She hesitated, started off, and then came back to them again.

  “Let’s put the thing reasonably. What possible motive would EdinaTooker have for stealing our poor little Gift Club fund? She doesn’tneed it. Her father is a rich man.”

  “So she says!”

  Billie shrugged.

  “It’s the truth, just the same. You can look it up if you like!”

  How little did Billie guess that in giving that permission or in makingthat suggestion she was lighting the fuse to a stick of dynamite!

  One of the girls who had listened with interest to Nellie Bane’s storywent directly to her room and began to write a letter.

  It was some days later that the same girl, bursting with news andimportance, dashed into the midst of an “agitation meeting” that wasbeing held in the school gymnasium.

  Billie had been addressing the meeting, urging moderation in theirtreatment of Edina, trying to sound hopeful in her prophecy that themoney would “turn up yet.”

  Into this atmosphere, already surcharged with conflicting emotions,dashed the girl who had written the letter on the memorable day ofNellie Bane’s story. Her name was Nancy Cutter and she carried anotherletter which she waved about her head as though it had been a flag andthis the occasion of a celebration.

  Billie’s heart sank as she recognized, or thought she recognized,fresh trouble for Edina. She gave a hasty look around to make surethat the girl from Oklahoma was not present. With relief, she realizedthat Edina had decided not to brave the meeting. It was just as well.Billie herself had urged her to stay away.

  “What is it, Nancy?” asked Billie quietly.

  The excited girl shoved the letter into her hand.

  “It’s something about Edina Tooker. I thought you might like to readit, Billie!”

  Billie shook her head.

  “If it’s anything against Edina, I don’t want to read it, Nancy.”

  A chorus of voices rose in protest.

  “Read it, Nancy!”

  “Tell us what’s in the letter!”

  “Read it aloud!”

  Happy to be in the limelight, Nancy faced the crowd, waving the letterover her head again as though it had been a flag.

  “It’s from my aunt and uncle in Oklahoma. I wrote them to find out whatI could about Paw Tooker and his million dollar oil well.”

  There was a titter among the crowd. Billie clenched her hands.

  “Meddler!” she cried, under her breath.

  Nancy Cutter read slowly and distinctly from the letter.

  “‘I was surprised by your inquiries in regard to Peter Tooker, my dear Nancy. Tooker is quite a character in these parts, a visionary, a dreamer, a seeker after the impossible. I was still more surprised to hear that he had a daughter at Three Towers Hall. It was the first mention I have ever heard of a daughter.’

  “Now listen to this!” Nancy adjusted her attentive audience. “The bestis still to come!

  “‘I believe there was some excitement for a while about a report of the discovery of oil on the old fellow’s property. There was immense activity there for a time. But it is over now. Just yesterday I met a man who said Tooker’s wells had gone dry.’

  “There!” cried Nancy triumphantly. “I told you all that talk aboutEdina being rich was a fake.”

  Billie was on her feet, fighting desperately for her friend.

  “I don’t believe it. That letter is all a mis----”

  She stopped suddenly, her eyes on someone who had just entered thegymnasium.

  “No,” a voice said, clearly and distinctly. “Everything that NancyCutter read is true!”