CHAPTER XVI _Weary Waiting_
Like her daughter, Mrs. Gay did not go to sleep until dawn of thefollowing morning. Her mental torture was even keener than Mary Louise's,for her imagination suggested all sorts of horrible fates, worse than theone the girl was actually enduring. Physical violence, association withhardened criminals, hunger, thirst--and--death. That was the mostterrifying thought of all--the fear that Mary Louise might already bedead!
Like her daughter's, too, Mrs. Gay's suffering was all the more intensebecause she had to bear it alone through the long, silent night. Frecklesand Jane, tired out from their vigorous search, had fallen instantlyasleep. There was nobody to sympathize with the poor frenzied mother. Sheswallowed dose after dose of aspirin, until finally, with the first graystreaks of dawn, she at last fell asleep.
Freckles was the first person awake in the household the next morning,and he immediately started the breakfast. Jane, arriving on the scenefifteen minutes later, was surprised and delighted at the boy's progress.
"We better not waken Mother," he said. "I don't suppose she got muchsleep last night."
"I'm afraid not." Tears came to Jane's eyes as they rested on the forlornlittle dog sitting so disconsolately in the corner of the kitchen."Freckles, what do you think could have happened to Mary Lou?" she asked.
"I think Tom Adams did something to her. Kidnaped her, probably. But Ihad one idea this morning, Jane, while I was making the coffee. Maybe hehid her in his own house somewhere! We never thought to search that."
"Bright boy!" exclaimed Jane, so loudly as to awaken Mrs. Gay, who heardher from her bedroom. For one ecstatic moment the woman hoped that herdaughter had been found. But Freckles' next remark dispelled any suchidea.
"It's worth looking into," he continued. "But I don't really think she'sthere, or Hattie would come and tell us. I can't believe Hattie is anenemy--or on Tom's side. She's too fond of Mary Lou."
Mrs. Gay, attired in a kimono and looking white and exhausted, peered inat the kitchen door.
"That coffee smells so good," she said, "that I just can't wait for a cupof it."
Freckles grinned in delight and poured out the steaming liquid. It seemedto revive his mother, and she drank it eagerly. But she could not eat anybreakfast.
"We're going up to Adams' first," announced the boy. "I'll get StuRobinson to drive us in his car--and we'll take Silky along. If Mary Loushould be hidden there, Silky'd find her.... And, Mother--if the policecome, be sure to have them talk to Horace Ditmar and get a look at thatthreat he found shoved under his door yesterday!"
"I will, dear," returned Mrs. Gay, smiling to herself at the idea oftaking orders from her small son. But the boy was proving himself bothpractical and businesslike in the management of the whole affair.
"I wonder whether Adelaide Ditmar will open her dining room today as sheplanned," remarked Jane.
A lump came into Mrs. Gay's throat, but she managed to reply calmly:
"I think so. She has all her food bought, and besides, the people areexpecting it. Mrs. Reed told me last night that Sue and Mabel are bothgoing to help her--if--if--Mary Lou doesn't come back in time. You hadbetter tell Hattie Adams to come down to the Ditmars' as soon as she can,though I don't believe Adelaide is planning to serve lunch."
Jane nodded, and finished her breakfast. After she and Freckles and thelittle dog had gone, the people from the other bungalows began to arriveat the Gays', to start upon a new search for the missing girl. HoraceDitmar sent them off in various directions while he and several of theolder women stayed behind to help and to advise Mrs. Gay.
At nine-thirty a small red car drove into Shady Nook and stopped at theGays' bungalow. Three plainclothes men got out, displaying their badgesfor identification.
"We want the whole story," they said. "So far we know nothing--exceptthat Mary Louise Gay, of Riverside and Shady Nook, is missing."
"We don't know much more ourselves," sighed Mrs. Gay. Then she proceededto tell the story of the girl's disappearance the preceding afternoon.
"As far as we know, the last person who saw her alive is Rebecca Adams, afeeble-minded woman who lives over at a farm where we know that MaryLouise started to go. Nobody saw her after that."
"Have you any suspicions at all?" inquired the detective.
Horace Ditmar answered that question by telling about the three fires atShady Nook and by showing the paper which had warned him of thepossibility of a fourth.
"Mary Louise suspected Tom Adams--the brother of this feeble-mindedwoman--though we don't know yet upon what clues she based hersuspicions," he concluded. "But it looks as if Adams was guilty, for heran away. He didn't take Mary Louise with him--we know that, because hissister drove him to the Junction--but we're afraid he did something toher first."
"So our first duty is to find this Tom Adams," announced the detective,rising. "Can you take us over to the farm now, Ditmar? Or rather, justone of us, for the other two better stay here and investigate thatthreat. And we want a picture of Miss Mary Louise Gay. We'll get one ofAdams and print them both in every newspaper in the country."
"But that's not the only clue we'll work on," put in another of the men."That may be entirely wrong, and Miss Gay may just have met with anaccident, or even lost her memory. There are many cases of that, youknow."
Mrs. Gay nodded. That was just the trouble: so many dreadful things mighthave happened to Mary Louise!
However, she resolved to keep up her spirits until she actually heard badnews. She could endure the tension in the daytime, she thought, bykeeping herself active; perhaps, before night, her husband would come.
So she hunted out some pictures of Mary Louise for the detectives andanswered their questions for an hour. Just as the two men left to go toDitmars, to investigate the threat and guard Adelaide, the roar of anairplane in the sky drew Mrs. Gay's attention. It was an auto-giro,fluttering over a near-by field where there did not happen to be anytrees.
Breathlessly she waited while it made its landing. But the motor did notstop, and only one man got out of the cockpit. Then, as the auto-girospeeded away, the man on the field began to run towards Shady Nook. Inanother moment she identified him as her husband--Detective Gay, of thepolice force!
He took the porch steps two at a time and, out of breath as he was,lifted his trembling wife into his arms. For the first time since thedisaster Mrs. Gay broke down and sobbed. But what a relief it was to giveway to her feelings at last! Her husband shared her anguish andunderstood, comforting her as best he could with words of assurance.
"We'll find her, dear, I'm sure we will!" he said. "Mary Lou isn't ababy: she'll show lots of pluck and courage. I'm counting on thatdaughter of ours every time!"
"Have you any plans at all, dear?" she inquired.
"Yes. Lots. I'm going to do a lot of telegraphing as soon as I get thewhole story. I was never so thankful before that I'd chosen the detectiveprofession."
"Have you had anything to eat?"
Mr. Gay smiled. "Now that you mention it, I don't believe I have. Youmight fix me some coffee while you tell me just what happened."
Freckles and Jane returned while Mr. Gay was eating his meal, but theyhad nothing to report. Hattie was sure that Tom could not be guilty; shebelieved that he was running away from his gambling debts. Nevertheless,she had consented immediately to a thorough search of the house and barnfor the missing girl. Yet even Silky's sharp nose could not find her.
The boy was delighted to find his father at home; he felt immediatelythat a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. For, like MaryLouise, he believed that his father could almost accomplish theimpossible.
"We're going over to the other shore after lunch--with Silky," he said,"and hunt some more."
"That's right, Son," approved Mr. Gay. "We'll never give up till we findMary Lou!"
None of the other searchers returned with any news all that afternoon.The day was hot and sultry, and to Mrs.
Gay, interminable. Everything wasso strangely quiet at the little resort; no radios played, no youngpeople shouted to each other or burst into singing. Even the birds seemedhushed, as if they too sensed the tragedy of the usually happy littlecolony.
Late in the afternoon the four girls who were working at the Ditmars'went into the river to cool off with a swim, and Mr. Gay decided to jointhem. But it was more like a bath than a swim, and nobody seemed to enjoyit.
Mr. Gay dressed and joined his wife on the porch, waiting for thedetectives to return. Suddenly a noisy car came towards them--a brightgreen roadster which was somehow familiar yet did not belong at ShadyNook. It was dusty and dirty; its two occupants wore goggles, as if theyhad been participating in a race, and until they spoke neither of theGays recognized them. Then they identified them instantly as Max Millerand Norman Wilder, from Riverside.
"Any news yet?" demanded Max eagerly as he jumped out of the car.
"No, not a bit," replied Mr. Gay. "How did you boys find out about it? Isit in the papers?"
"It's in the afternoon edition," replied Norman, handing a newspaper tothe other. "But of course we started before that. There was a wire to theRiverside police last night, that we got wind of. So we started earlythis morning."
"I think it's fine of you both to come," said Mrs. Gay, though she couldnot at the moment see what possible help they might afford.
"We're going to have a swim, clean up our car, and eat," announced Max;"then we're going to drive all around here within a radius of a hundredmiles, tooting our horn and going slowly."
"I didn't know you boys knew how to drive slowly," remarked Mr. Gayteasingly.
"Well, we really won't need to toot our horn," returned Norman in thesame light manner, "because the color of our car is loud enough to shriekfor us!"
Mabel and Sue Reed, passing by the bungalow on their way back to theDitmars', stopped in and met the boys. Mrs. Gay asked them to put twoextra places at the dinner table for them.
Gradually the searchers returned--without any success--and everybody wentto Ditmars to dinner. It was a lovely meal. Adelaide Ditmar proved thatshe knew how to prepare food and serve it attractively, and, in spite oftheir anxiety, everybody enjoyed it. Everybody except Mrs. Gay, who couldonly pick at her food.
True to their resolve, Max and Norman drove off in their car immediatelyafter supper, with Freckles and Jane along with them. The rest of theinhabitants of Shady Nook settled down to a quiet evening of waiting.Waiting and hoping for news.
About eight o'clock Mr. and Mrs. Frazier came over from the hotel tooffer their sympathy to the Gays.
"I don't want to alarm you, Gay," said Frazier, "but I think you haven'tgiven enough thought to the river. Mary Louise was playing tennis on ourcourt early in the afternoon, and the most natural thing in the worldwould be for her to take a swim afterwards. You know yourself that eventhe best of swimmers have cramps."
Mrs. Gay clutched her husband's arm tightly in an effort to controlherself. What a horrible suggestion!
"Terrible as it is, drowning is better than lots of things that mighthappen," remarked Mrs. Frazier.
Mrs. Gay glared at the woman with hatred in her eyes. How could she sitthere and talk like that? She rose abruptly.
"You'll have to excuse us now, Mrs. Frazier," she said unsteadily. "Myhusband and I have things to do."
The hotelkeeper and his wife got up from their chairs just as thedetectives' car stopped at the bungalow. Everybody waited tensely.
"No news of your daughter, Mrs. Gay," announced one of the detectives,immediately. "But we are on Adams' trail. He's been spotted, speedingacross the country in a stolen car. This afternoon they found the car,abandoned near a woods. Undoubtedly he's guilty."
Frazier's white face became even more pasty-looking. Nobody noticed it,except Mr. Gay, who made it his business to watch people's reactions.
"If I may say something," put in the hotelkeeper, looking straight at thedetective, "I think you're on the wrong track. Adams is guilty of a smalltheft--he stole two hundred dollars from me, and he left some gamblingdebts. That's why he's running away. But I believe your real criminal isright here at Shady Nook!"
"Who?" demanded all the detectives at once.
"Ditmar. Horace Ditmar. These fires have proved to be a good thing forhim. Ditmars took over all that boarding-house trade after Flicks' Innburned down. Mary Louise was on the inside, so they were probably afraidshe'd find out too much--and--disposed of her."
"I don't believe a word of it!" cried Mrs. Gay angrily. "I'd trust bothAdelaide and Horace anywhere. And how about that threat they got? You sawthat?" she asked the detectives.
"That was just a clever trick," explained Frazier lightly, "to throw offsuspicion. You notice it has not been carried out!"
Almost in hysterics, Mrs. Gay felt that she could not bear those dreadfulFraziers another minute. Desperately she clung to her husband's arm forsupport.
"Will you men come inside?" suggested Mr. Gay, realizing how his wife wassuffering. "Good-night, Mrs. Frazier. Good-night, Frazier."
And so another long night passed without any news of Mary Louise. But itwas not so terrible for Mrs. Gay as the first one, because her husbandwas with her. And Max Miller and Norman Wilder comforted her with theassurance that they were going to find Mary Louise the following day.
Somehow, by intuition, perhaps, Mrs. Gay believed them!