CHAPTER IX _The Fifty-Dollar Bill_
The Pearsons' home, an attractive house of the English cottage type, washalf a mile from Mrs. Grant's, in the best residential section ofRiverside. Mary Louise, noticing Miss Grant's increasing weakness,suggested a taxicab.
The old lady scorned such a proposal.
"Use your common sense, Mary Louise!" she commanded, in that brusquemanner which Jane so resented. "You know I've lost five hundred and fiftydollars, and now you suggest that I throw money away on luxuries liketaxicabs!"
"I'll pay for it," offered the girl. "I have my purse with me."
"Fiddlesticks!"
The hot sun of the June day poured mercilessly down upon their heads asthey made their slow progress along the streets of Riverside, but MissGrant refused to give up, although it was evident that she was sufferingintensely. When they finally reached the porch of the Pearson home shealmost collapsed.
Corinne Pearson was sitting in the swing, idly smoking a cigarette whenthe little party arrived. She was a blonde, about nineteen years of age,pretty in an artificial way. Even her pose, alone on the porch, wastheatrical. She rose languidly as her great-aunt came up the steps.
"Mother's inside, Aunt Mattie," she said, ignoring the two girlscompletely. "I'll go and tell her that you are here."
Miss Grant opened her eyes wide and looked sharply at Corinne.
"Don't trouble yourself!" she snapped, gasping for breath. "It's _you_ Icame to see, Corinne Pearson!"
The girl raised her delicately arched eyebrows.
"Really? Well, I am honored, Aunt Mattie." There was nothing in hermanner to indicate nervousness, and Mary Louise began to wonder whetherHarry Grant's story were really true.
"You won't be when I tell you why I'm here! Though of course you canguess." Miss Grant paused and took a deep breath. "It's about that moneyyou stole from my safe!"
"What money?" The girl's indifference was admirable, if indeed she wereguilty, as Harry Grant claimed.
"You know. Eight hundred and fifty dollars in bills and five hundred ingold pieces."
Corinne laughed in a nasty superior way.
"Really, Aunt Mattie, you are talking foolishly. I'm sorry if you havebeen robbed, but it's just too absurd to connect me with it."
"Stop your posing and lying, Corinne Pearson!" cried the old lady in ashrill voice. "I know all about everything. Harry Grant has confessed."
Mary Louise, watching the girl's face intently, thought that she saw herwince. Anyway, the cigarette she was smoking dropped to the floor. Buther voice sounded controlled as she spoke to her great-aunt.
"Please don't scream like that, Aunt Mattie," she said. "The neighborswill hear you. I think you had better come inside and see Mother."
"All right," agreed the old lady. Then, turning to the girls, sherequested them to help her get to her feet.
"I'll help you," offered Corinne. "These young girls can wait out here."
"No, they can't, either! They're coming right inside with me!"
Corinne shrugged her slim shoulders and opened the screen door. Hermother, a stout woman of perhaps forty-five, was standing in the livingroom, which opened directly on the porch.
"Why, Aunt Mattie!" she exclaimed. "This is a surprise. You must befeeling better----"
"I'm a lot worse!" interrupted the old lady, sinking into a chair besidethe door. "Your daughter's the cause of it, too!"
"My daughter? How could Corinne be the cause of your bad health, AuntMattie? You're talking foolishly."
"Don't speak to me like that, Ellen Grant Pearson! Your daughterCorinne's a thief--and she stole my money, out of my safe. Night beforelast, when she went upstairs to get that old lace dress of mine."
"Impossible!" protested Mrs. Pearson. "You didn't, did you, Corinne?"
"Certainly not," replied the girl. "I think Aunt Mattie's mind iswandering, Mother. Send these girls home, and I'll call up Uncle John.He'll come and drive Aunt Mattie back to Dark Cedars."
"You'll do nothing of the kind!" announced Miss Grant. "There's not athing the matter with my mind--it's my side and my breathing." She turnedto her two young friends. "Jane, you tell them all about everything thathas happened since I was robbed."
Jane nodded and again related the story, telling of their wild ride inHarry Grant's car, the capture of the satchel with the bills in it, andconcluding with Harry's confession concerning Corinne's part in thecrime. Mrs. Pearson leaned forward in her chair, listening to the recitalwith serious attention, but her daughter acted as if she were bored withsuch nonsense and wandered about the room while Jane was talking,rearranging the flowers on the tables and lighting herself a freshcigarette.
"It isn't true, is it, dear?" asked Mrs. Pearson eagerly.
Corinne laughed scornfully.
"It's just too absurd to contradict," she replied. "Uncle Harry made itall up about me just to save his own face." She turned about and facedher great-aunt. "You know yourself, Aunt Mattie, that if I had stolenthat money I wouldn't pay him four hundred dollars just to buy me someclothes in New York. It's all out of proportion."
Miss Grant nodded: she could see the sense to that. A hundred dollarswould have been ample commission.
"May I say something?" put in Mary Louise meekly.
"Certainly," replied Miss Grant.
The girl felt herself trembling as all eyes in the room turned upon her.But she spoke out bravely, disregarding Corinne's open scorn.
"I believe I can explain why Miss Pearson divided the money evenly withMr. Harry Grant," she said. "It was a clever trick, to throw thesuspicion on him. Because you know, Miss Grant, if you saw him drive homewith a new car, wouldn't you naturally jump to the conclusion that he hadbought it with your money?"
The old lady nodded her head: the idea sounded reasonable to her.
"And as for Miss Pearson's evening dress and cloak," continued MaryLouise, "if she didn't buy them in Riverside, you'd probably never knowwhat she paid for them, or suspect them of being particularly expensive."
"That's true, Mary Louise," agreed Miss Grant. "I'd never dream anybodywould spend four hundred dollars for two pieces of finery."
Exasperated with the discussion, Corinne Pearson started towards thestairway.
"I'm not going to listen to any more of this ridiculous babble!" she saidto her mother, with a scathing glance towards Mary Louise. "You'll haveto excuse me, Aunt Mattie," she added condescendingly. "I have a date."
"You stay right here!" commanded the old lady. "I'm not through with you.You hand over that other fifty-dollar bill!"
Corinne shrugged her shoulders and looked imploringly at her mother, asif to say, "Can't something be done with that crazy woman?"
Mrs. Pearson looked helpless: she didn't know how to get rid of her aunt.
The situation was apparently at a standstill. Corinne Pearson wouldn'tadmit any part in the theft, and Miss Grant refused to allow her to gooff as if she were innocent. But Mary Louise, recalling Harry Grant'sexplanation of the use to which Corinne had put that last fifty-dollarbill, had a sudden inspiration. She stood up and faced Mrs. Pearson.
"May I use your telephone?" she asked quietly.
"Why, yes, certainly," was the reply. "Right there on the table."
Again all eyes in the room were turned upon Mary Louise as she searchedthrough the telephone book and gave a number to the operator. Everybodywaited, in absolute silence.
"Hello," said Mary Louise when the connection was made. "Is this the BonTon Boot Shop? Yes? Can you tell me whether you took in a fifty-dollarbill yesterday from any of your customers?"
It seemed to her that she could actually feel the tenseness of theatmosphere in that room in the Pearsons' house while she waited for theshop girl to return with the information she had asked for. Her eyesturned towards Corinne to see how the question had affected her, but MaryLouise could not see her face from where she was seated. In anothermoment the voice at the other e
nd of the wire summoned her thoughts backto the phone. And the answer was in the affirmative!
"So you did take in a fifty-dollar bill?" Mary Louise repeated for thebenefit of her listeners. "Could you possibly read me the number engravedon it?"
Her hand trembled as she fumbled for her little notebook in which thenotations were made, and Jane, guessing her intention, dashed across theroom to assist her. When the salesgirl finally read out the number on thebill, Mary Louise was able to check it with the one marked "missing." Itwas the identical bill!
"Will you keep it out of the bank for an hour or two--in case we want toidentify it--for a certain purpose?" she inquired. "My name is MaryLouise Gay--Detective Gay's daughter.... Oh, thank you so much!"
She replaced the receiver and jumped up from the chair, squeezing Jane'sarm in delight. She noticed that Miss Grant's black eyes were beamingupon her with admiration and that Mrs. Pearson's were shifting uneasilyabout the room. Corinne was standing at the window with her back to theother people.
Suddenly she burst into hysterical sobs. Wheeling about sharply, sheturned on Mary Louise like a cat that is ready to spit.
"You horrible girl!" she screamed. "You nasty, vile creature! What righthave you----"
"Hush, Corinne!" admonished Miss Grant. "Be quiet, or I'll send yousomewhere where you will be! Dry your eyes and sit down there in thatchair and tell us the truth. And throw that cigarette away!"
Frightened by her great-aunt's threat, the girl did as she was told.
"I suppose you won't believe me now when I tell you that I didn't takeany gold pieces," she whined. "But that's the solemn truth. I admit aboutthe bills----"
"Begin at the beginning," snapped Miss Grant.
"All right. It was night before last, when Mother and I walked over toask you for money for a dress. It means so much to me to look nice at thedance on Saturday night----"
"I don't care what it means to you," interrupted the spinster. "Go aheadwith your story."
"Well, I thought it was pretty stingy of you not to help me out, AuntMattie," continued Corinne. "But I never thought of taking the money tillI went up in your room."
"How did you get the safe open?"
"That's the queer part. _It was open!_ I thought you had forgotten toclose the door."
Miss Grant gasped in horror.
"I never forget. Besides, I saw that the lock had been picked. Somebodydid break it, if you didn't, Corinne."
"There wasn't a bit of gold there, Aunt Mattie. I'm willing to swear tothat!" Corinne looked straight into the old lady's black eyes, and MaryLouise could see that her aunt believed her and was already trying tofigure out who else was guilty.
"No, you didn't have time to fiddle with a lock," she agreed. "I canbelieve that.... I think I was right in the beginning: Elsie must havestolen the box of gold pieces."
"Of course!" cried Corinne in relief. "That would explain it perfectly.An ignorant child like her would want only the gold--that's why the papermoney and the bonds were untouched. Did you lose the bonds too, AuntMattie?"
"No, they were still there. I put them in the bank today, with the eighthundred dollars these girls got from Harry Grant.... Well, Corinne, youdid give your uncle Harry that money then?"
"Yes, I did. For the exact purpose he told you about."
Mary Louise sighed. They were right back where they started, with onlythis difference: that while Elsie had been suspected of the theft of thewhole amount in the beginning, now she was thought to be guilty ofstealing only the gold. But stealing is stealing, no matter what theamount, and Mary Louise was unhappy.
Miss Grant grasped hold of the arms of her chair and struggled to herfeet. She stood there motionless for a moment, holding her hand on herside. The flush on her cheeks had disappeared; her face was now deathlywhite. Both girls knew that she could never make that climb in the heatto Dark Cedars.
"You won't do anything to Corinne, will you, Aunt Mattie?" pleaded Mrs.Pearson fearfully.
"No--I guess not. Go get me--" Mary Louise expected her to ask foraromatics, to prevent a fainting fit, but she was mistaken--"go getme--my fifty dollars--what you have left of it, Corinne. You can owe----"
But she could not complete her sentence: she reeled, and would havefallen to the floor had not Mary Louise sprung to her side at that verysecond. As it was, Miss Grant fainted in the girl's arms.
Very gently Mary Louise laid her down on the davenport and turned to Mrs.Pearson.
"Water, please," she requested. But it failed to revive the patient.
"I think she ought to go to the hospital, Mrs. Pearson," she said."There's something terribly wrong with her side."
Mrs. Pearson looked relieved: she had no desire to nurse a sick old ladyin her house, even though she was her aunt. She told Corinne to call foran ambulance.
It was not until two white-uniformed attendants were actually putting heron the stretcher that Miss Grant regained consciousness. Then she openedher eyes and asked for Mary Louise.
"Come with me, child!" she begged. "I want you."
The girl nodded, and whispering a message for her mother to Jane, sheclimbed into the ambulance and rode to the hospital with the queer oldspinster.