CHAPTER XVII _The Empty House_
Mr. Gay was seated at the telephone table in the dining room thefollowing morning when Mary Louise came downstairs to breakfast. Shewaited breathlessly for the news, for she felt sure that he was talkingto some of the police about the whereabouts of Elsie Grant.
"That's strange," she heard him say. "I can hardly believe it.... Youchecked up with the bus companies as well as the railroads?... O.K.,then. Keep on searching," he concluded.
Replacing the receiver, he turned to his daughter.
"Not a trace of Elsie anywhere," he announced.
Mary Louise smiled: she was almost glad that the girl had not been found.It gave her more time to believe in Elsie's innocence.
"Do you think she could have been kidnaped, Daddy?" she inquired. "Peopleare, pretty often, nowadays."
"But they're always rich or important," returned Mr. Gay. "No: that's oneof the blessings of being poor--nobody would kidnap Elsie Grant unless heknew that she had the ruby necklace. Then the criminal would be much morelikely to steal it and let her go."
"That's what I think," agreed Mary Louise.... "What are you going to donow?"
"There's nothing more I can do. I suppose you are planning to go over tothe hospital to see Miss Grant?"
"Yes, for a few minutes after breakfast. Then--Daddy--" Mary Louisehesitated: she didn't want her father to laugh at her next request, butshe just had to ask him--"would you be willing to go on a search with methrough Cooper's woods? It's just possible that all our detective workmay be wrong and my unsuspecting mother right. Elsie might be lost inCooper's woods!"
"I'm not going to smile," replied her father. "Because I think yoursuggestion is a very good one. Elsie may even be guilty of thethefts--and have the necklace and the gold pieces with her--and still belost or hiding in those woods. I'll be glad to go with you."
Mary Louise's brown eyes sparkled. What a good sport her father was!
"Don't let's take the car, Daddy," she urged. "At least, not any fartherthan Dark Cedars. I'd like to set out from the back of Miss Grant's yardand try to trace Elsie's steps--with Silky to help us. If I get her oldcalico dress and shoes and let him sniff them, I think he'd understand."
Mr. Gay gazed at his daughter admiringly.
"Mary Lou, that is an idea!" he cried. "You're a better detective than Iam."
She blushed at the praise.
"Wait till we see how my plan turns out," she answered. "It may lead tonothing at all.... Still, we'll be having fun. It'll be a regular hikingtrip."
"Of course it will be fun," agreed her father, for he loved theout-of-doors. "And we'll carry blankets in case we stay overnight."
"What's this I hear?" demanded Mrs. Gay, appearing from the kitchen withthe coffee pot in her hands. "What mischief are you two up to now?"
"Only an all-day hike, my dear," explained Mr. Gay calmly. "You don'tmind, do you? And will you drive us as far as Dark Cedars and bring thecar back?"
"Certainly," replied Mrs. Gay graciously.
"May I go?" asked Freckles as he came into the dining room with Silky athis heels.
"I'm afraid you'll have to stay home and take care of your mother, Son,for we may be gone overnight," replied his father. "But just wait till Iget my real vacation, later on. We'll have a whale of a trip. All four ofus together."
"Don't you expect to be home in time for supper?" asked Mrs. Gay.
"That all depends upon our luck." And Mr. Gay went on to explain to hiswife the nature of their excursion and the reason for making it.
While he assembled the necessary equipment for the hike, Mary Louisehurried off to the hospital to see Miss Grant. It was early, but she wastold that she might go up to the patient's room immediately. The old ladywas expecting her.
Mary Louise found her looking pale and wasted, but her black eyes beamedas brightly as ever, and she smiled faintly at her visitor.
"I brought you some flowers, Miss Grant," began the girl cheerfully asshe handed them to the nurse. "And I'm so glad to hear that you arebetter."
Miss Grant nodded her thanks and indicated that she wanted Mary Louise tosit down in the chair beside her high white bed.
"Any news?" she asked in a weak but eager voice.
Mary Louise shook her head.
"Nothing more," she replied. "Mr. John Grant told you about my awfulexperience on Saturday night, didn't he?"
"Yes. I was afraid something like that might happen. I'm sorry, MaryLouise, and thankful that you weren't injured."
"You mean you're sorrier for me than for yourself--about losing thenecklace?" asked the girl incredulously. This didn't sound at all likethe miser she believed Miss Grant to be.
"Yes, I am. Because, somehow, I never thought that necklace would do meany good. I should have been afraid to sell it for fear it would bring upsome old scandal or some disgrace about my father. I don't know how hegot hold of it--I was always afraid it had something to do with gamblingor a bet of some kind--but I do know that my mother never approved of hiskeeping it. And so I'm almost thankful it's gone."
"Who do you think could have taken it?"
"Either the original owner--whoever he is--or my mother's ghost. You readof queer things like that sometimes, things that never can be explainedby the living. Perhaps when we are dead we shall understand.... I don'tknow.... I dreamed about Mother night before last, and in the dream Ipromised her to throw away the necklace.... So I'm almost thankful it'sgone."
Mary Louise let out a sigh of relief.
"I'm so glad it doesn't worry you, Miss Grant. I was afraid you'd suspectElsie."
The sick woman's eyes flashed angrily.
"I do still suspect Elsie of taking my gold!" The old expression of greedcrossed her face. "You haven't found it for me yet, have you, MaryLouise?"
"No, I haven't, Miss Grant."
"Where is Elsie?" was the next question.
Mary Louise hesitated: she hated to answer this.
"She is--lost. She went away yesterday--Sunday morning--and hasn't comeback yet."
Miss Grant nodded significantly.
"I was expecting it. Well, you don't believe any longer that she'sinnocent, do you, Mary Louise?"
"I'm still hoping," replied the girl.
Miss Grant was silent for some minutes, and Mary Louise felt that it wastime for her to go. But before she made a move, she told the sick womanof Hannah's decision to leave Dark Cedars, and she held out the key.
"But I should like to keep it today, if you don't mind, Miss Grant," sheadded, "so I can get some clothing of Elsie's for Silky to sniff at. Iwant to take him down to the woods to see whether he can get on hertrail."
"Keep it as long as you want it," agreed the old lady. "If Hannah isgone, I shan't return to Dark Cedars very soon. John wants me to go tohis home, anyhow, when I get out of the hospital, so I suppose I hadbetter agree."
"Do you want to see William about your cow and your garden?" inquiredMary Louise.
"Yes, tell him to stop in to see me here at the hospital.... And now youhad better go, child.... I'm very tired."
Enormously relieved that the interview had been so easy, Mary Louise leftthe hospital and hurried back to her home. She met Jane Patterson as sheentered her own gate.
"What next?" inquired her chum, who had been told the previous evening ofElsie's disappearance. "Still acting the detective?"
"I should say," answered Mary Louise. "Dad and I are going off now insearch of Elsie."
"Where are you going? Harrisburg?"
"No. Cooper's woods. Want to come along, Jane?"
The other girl shook her head.
"I don't believe so. I have a tennis date with Norman, and Hope Dorsey isrounding up the crowd to drive over to a country fair tonight. She'll befurious if you don't go--and so will Max. Kenneth was expecting we'dbring Elsie Grant along."
"I only wish we could!" sighed Mary Louise. "But maybe we shall be ableto. Maybe we'll f
ind her and bring her back home in time for supper."
"And maybe not," remarked Jane.
"I've got to be off now," concluded the other, giving her chum a hastykiss. "Wish me good luck!"
"You know I do!" was the reply.
Mary Louise ran into the house and found her father all ready to start.He had made up a pack for each of them to carry; his own, the heavier,included a small tent for use if they were obliged to sleep in the woods.The food and equipment were sufficient but not overabundant, for Mr. Gaywas a good camper and knew just what was necessary and what could be leftat home.
"Get into your knickers, Mary Lou," he advised. "And bring a sweateralong."
"You don't think we'll be cold?"
"The woods are chilly at night."
"Bring me back a bearskin," suggested Freckles jokingly. "I could useone."
"I don't expect to shoot anything," replied his father. "But, of course,you never can tell."
Half an hour later Mrs. Gay drove the two adventurers over to Dark Cedarsand let them out at the hedge. Mary Louise, with Silky at her heels, ledthe way up to the house.
"It is a gloomy-looking place," observed her father as he followed herthrough the trees. "Yet it could be made very attractive."
Mary Louise shuddered.
"Nobody would ever want to live here after all the ghost stories getaround. You know how people exaggerate, and the stories are bad enough asthey are."
"The porch certainly needs paint and repairs. It's a wonder Miss Granthasn't fallen down and broken her neck."
Mary Louise inserted her key in the lock and opened the heavy woodendoor. Inside, the shutters were carefully closed, and the dark, somberhouse seemed almost like a tomb. The stairs creaked ominously as the twoascended them, and Mary Louise was thankful that she was not alone. Afterthat one experience in Miss Grant's bedroom, she never knew what strangecreature might rush at her from the big, dark closet.
"I can hardly see where I'm going," remarked Mr. Gay. "You better take myhand, Mary Lou."
His daughter seized it gladly; she was only too pleased to feel itshuman, reassuring pressure. She led the way to the rear of the secondfloor, up the attic steps to Elsie's room.
Here they found one of the windows open, so that a subdued lightbrightened the attic room. But there was no sunshine, for the boughs ofthe cedar trees pressed against the window sill.
Silky had been following them at a respectful distance, and Mary Louiselifted him up in her arms as she opened the closet door. A musty smellgreeted her, but she had no difficulty in finding the clothing shewanted, and she held it close to Silky's nose.
"This is Elsie's," she said, just as if the dog were human. "Elsie islost, and you must find her."
Still keeping the dog in her arms and the dress close to his nose, shecarefully descended the stairs.
"I'd like to see Miss Grant's bedroom," said Mr. Gay as they reached thesecond floor. "I want a look at the mattress."
"O.K., Daddy. But you go first. And have your gun ready if you open thatcloset door. I think that's where the ghosts live."
"Mary Lou!" cried her father in amazement. "You don't believe that stuff,do you?"
"I wish I did," sighed the girl. "Because that would make Elsieinnocent."
"You are very fond of Elsie, aren't you, Daughter?"
"She seemed so sweet. And all our crowd liked her."
Mr. Gay went to the window of Miss Grant's room and threw open theshutter to let in the light. Just as Mary Louise had said, the mattresswas literally torn to pieces. Piles of straw were heaped on the floor,and the ragged covering was strewn all over the room.
Mr. Gay examined it, and Mary Louise walked over to the side window--theone under which William's ladder had been found.
"Even a piece from the mattress is on this window ledge," she remarked asshe pulled out a long strip of material. She examined it more closely.Suddenly her eyes blinked in excitement.
"This isn't mattress cover, Daddy!" she exclaimed. "It's clothingmaterial! Blue sateen! From--somebody's dress!"
Mr. Gay reached the window in two quick steps.
"What do you make of that, Mary Lou?" he demanded.
"I think it must be a piece from the thief's clothing!" she cried indelight. "And I don't believe it's Elsie's. Unless she was wearing someold dress of her aunt's."
"I hope you're right," said Mr. Gay. "Put the strip into your pocket.Crimes have been solved on slimmer evidence than that." He turned aside."There are no ghosts in the closet, Mary Lou," he announced solemnly. "Ijust looked."
"Then let's leave, Daddy. I'm 'rarin' to go'--because--well--because Ihave another reason now besides wanting to find Elsie!"
"You suspect somebody definitely?" he inquired.
"Yes. But don't ask me whom--yet. Just let's go."
Still holding on to Elsie's calico dress, Mary Louise led the way out ofthe house and around to the back yard of Dark Cedars. Here they foundWilliam complacently working in the garden, as if nothing had everhappened to disturb the peace at Miss Grant's home. He looked up andsmiled at Mary Louise.
"Elsie didn't come back, did she, William?" asked the girl.
The old man shook his head. "Nope," he replied.
"Any more chickens stolen?"
"Nope."
"Well, we're off to hunt Elsie--my father and I," explained Mary Louise."And, by the way, William, Miss Grant wants you to stop in to see her atthe hospital."
"I'll do that," agreed the man. "And good luck to ye!"
"Thanks, William," returned Mary Louise. "Good-bye."
She and her father walked on down the hill towards the little shack wherethe colored family lived, and stopped there to inquire again about Elsie.But Mrs. Jones had not seen her since the previous morning; however, shepointed out just what path the girl had taken. So Mary Louise put Silkyon the trail, and the three began their search.