CHAPTER II _The Job_
If Mrs. Gay did not like the idea of losing her daughter for two weeks,at least she kept the feeling to herself. She congratulated Mary Louiseheartily on being chosen for a difficult piece of work.
"You're a lucky girl!" cried Freckles, Mary Louise's young brother. "WishI was old enough to take the job!"
"You couldn't take this one, Son," his father reminded him, "because it'sa woman's job. A man would be out of place in a woman's hotel. But MaryLou can go about unnoticed--people will think she's just a guest."
"Twenty-five bucks a week!" repeated Freckles. "What are you going to dowith all that money, Sis?"
"I don't know. Wait and see if I earn it. But if I do, we'll all havesomething nice out of it."
"I wasn't asking for it!" protested the boy.
"No, I know you weren't. But wait, and we'll see." She turned to hermother. "The Detweilers haven't heard a thing from Margaret, Mother. Notsince they received a box last Christmas from Philadelphia. But Ipromised to try to hunt her up for them."
"Oh, I feel so sorry for them!" exclaimed Mrs. Gay. "I do hope thatnothing has happened to Margaret."
"So do I. But, anyhow, that will give me two jobs in Philadelphia."
"Yes," agreed her father, "and you can give that as your reason for beingin Philadelphia--to the other guests at the hotel--if you care to."
"That's an idea," said Mary Louise. "And maybe this is the more importantof the two. I'm sure Margaret Detweiler is more precious to hergrandparents than money and valuables to the women at that hotel."
Though her mother accepted the situation calmly--owing to her father'spersuasion, no doubt--Mary Louise found her best friends less agreeable.Jane raised a howl of protest when she heard of the plan, and Max Millerlooked so crushed and unhappy that for a moment or two Mary Louise evenconsidered the idea of giving the whole thing up.
"I asked you two months ago to go to the senior dance during Christmasweek," he said. "And you promised me faithfully, Mary Lou!"
"I know, Max. But I couldn't foresee anything like this coming up."
"It spoils my whole vacation. It spoils my whole senior year, becausethis is the biggest affair we have.... In fact, it spoils my whole life!"
"Now, Max, be reasonable! We'd have only a few dances together--you'reclass president, don't forget, and you'll need to perform your socialduties--and any other girl will do as your partner."
"No other girl will do at all," he protested stubbornly. "I won't takeanybody else. I'll go stag. I'd stay home entirely if I weren'tpresident!"
"Well, maybe I'll have the whole mystery solved in the week beforeChristmas, and get home in time for the dance," remarked Mary Louiseoptimistically.
"More likely you'll stay a week overtime," muttered the young man. "Ormaybe take on the job for good and never come back to Riverside at all."
Mary Louise laughed.
"You certainly can dish out gloom when you want to, Max! You don'tsuppose my parents would allow me to leave high school and take a regularjob when I'm only sixteen, do you? I shan't be seventeen till nextspring, you know."
But Max refused to be consoled, and Jane Patterson upheld him in hisattitude. It was ridiculous, foolhardy, dumb, silly--every adjective shecould think of--to go to a strange city and be all alone during Christmasweek when you could be having a perfectly wonderful time in Riverside.
"You'll get to be a dried-up old maid by the time you're twenty-five,"she told her chum. "And what good will your career be to you then?"
"Lots of good," returned Mary Louise complacently. "If I'm going to be anold maid, I'll certainly want a career. But I don't see why a careershould interfere with marriage. I'll have plenty of time to have itfirst."
"All the men will be married by that time."
"I'll take a chance," laughed Mary Louise.
Nothing anybody said could stop her. Mary Louise was more thrilled thanshe had ever been in her life, and she meant to put her whole soul intothis job. Not only for her own sake, but for her father's, as well. Inher two previous experiences, personal inclination had made her unravelthe mysteries, but now she felt that her father's reputation wasinvolved. If he recommended someone who was incompetent, a failure wouldreflect upon him. Oh, she must succeed--if it were humanly possible!
She left the party early that evening and went home to finish packing hersuitcase. Immediately after breakfast the next morning she and her fathertook the train to Philadelphia.
The snow had ceased falling, but the country was still covered withwhite. The sun shone, and the landscape was lovely. Mary Louise had neverbeen to Philadelphia before, and she watched everything eagerly as sheapproached the terminal. It was a big city, in comparison with Riversideor even Harrisburg. But not so big as New York, which she had visitedseveral times.
"Where is the hotel, Daddy?" she asked as they left the train. "And whatis its name?"
"It is up near the Parkway, and it is called 'Stoddard House,' because awealthy woman by the name of Stoddard left some money in her will tobuild it and help keep it up. It is a very attractive place."
"I wonder how many rooms it has," said his daughter.
"Not so many as you might expect, because I understand the whole firstfloor is planned for the girls' social uses. A card room, several smallrooms for the girls to entertain callers, a library, a larger receptionroom for dancing, and the dining room are all part of the plan. Butyou'll soon go all over the place and see for yourself."
Mary Louise's eyes sparkled.
"It is going to be thrilling, Dad!" she said.
"I hope you don't run into any danger," he remarked a littleapprehensively. "The Philadelphia police will have your name on file--Isaw to that--so the minute you call for help you can get it. And don'thesitate to phone me long distance any time you need me. I'll give you mylist of addresses for the week. Don't stop for expense--we can't considermoney in cases like this."
Mary Louise nodded proudly. Never in her life had she been so happy. Shewalked along beside her father with her head high and her eyes shining.Her only misgiving, as they approached the hotel, was caused by herextreme youth. She hoped fervently that nobody would guess her age.
The hotel was an attractive place. Set back from the street by a smallterrace, its trim brick walls and white-painted doorway and windowslooked cozy and home-like. What a nice place to live, Mary Louisethought, if you weren't lucky enough to have a home of your own!
How thankful she was that the place wasn't gloomy and tumbledown likeDark Cedars, where she had made her first investigations as an amateurdetective! Nobody would be telling her that ghosts haunted the walls ofStoddard House.
Her father opened the door for her, and she preceded him into the lobby.It was rather small, as lobbies go, with only one counter-desk, onelounge, and a couple of elevators, which you worked yourself, at theside. But doors opened out from the lobby on all sides, revealingglimpses of numerous attractive reception rooms beyond.
Mr. Gay nodded to the girl at the desk and inquired for Mrs. Hilliard. Ina couple of minutes a stout middle-aged woman appeared and smiledpleasantly at him. He introduced Mary Louise.
"Let's get back into my office where we can talk undisturbed," suggestedMrs. Hilliard, leading the way out of a door and along a hall to anothersmaller room. "Now sit down and I'll tell you all about ourdifficulties."
Mr. Gay and his daughter made themselves comfortable, and Mary Louisetook out her notebook. The same notebook which she had made so valuableon two previous occasions.
"Last September was the first time we ever had any trouble at all," beganMrs. Hilliard. "We lost a complete set of silverware--a dozen each ofknives, forks, and spoons. But as these were only plated, the loss didnot run into a great deal of money, so we didn't make much fuss. Isupposed that one of the maids stole them--a waitress who left the nextday to be married.
"But I must have been mistaken, for more things disappe
ared after sheleft. A very unusual vase we had in the library, quite valuable too, forit had belonged in the Stoddard family. That made it look as if the thiefwere a connoisseur.
"The matron and I were watching the help carefully, and we felt sure thatnone of them was responsible. We hadn't many guests at the time--thereare only about a dozen who live here permanently. And there happened tobe only a couple of transients."
"What are 'transients,' Mrs. Hilliard?" asked Mary Louise, who wasunfamiliar with the term.
"They're the people who stop in for a day or two--or even a week--anddon't stay permanently," explained the other.
"I should think they'd be the people who would be most likely to steal,"observed Mary Louise. "Because they could get away with it more easily."
"I thought so too, at first. But when things kept right on being stolen,and the same transients never came back, it began to look to me as if oneof the permanent lodgers were responsible.... These two girls--I haveforgotten their names--were here when the silverware and the vasedisappeared, but they were not here in October when our watches weretaken."
"How many watches?" asked Mary Louise.
"Four--including my own!"
"And were there any transients here at that time?"
"Just one. A chorus girl named Mary Green. She stayed a couple of daysand then said her show was closing up."
The young detective wrote all these facts into her notebook and askedwhether that was all.
"Not quite," replied Mrs. Hilliard. "Last Friday Miss Violet Granger hada valuable oil painting stolen from her room, and a purse containingfifty dollars.... So you see the situation has become pretty serious. Twoof our regular guests have moved away because of it, and others havethreatened to do so if anything else is stolen."
She looked doubtfully at Mary Louise. "I'm sure I don't know how youwould go about an investigation like this," she said. "But perhaps youdo. Are you willing to try it?"
"Of course I am!" cried the girl eagerly. "It's just the kind of thing Ilove. I've put down everything you said, Mrs. Hilliard, and I'm all readyto go to work now. I want to see the hotel and meet the guests as soon aspossible."
"I think Mary Louise had better keep secret the fact that she is spyingon them," put in Mr. Gay. "Just let them think that she is a young friendof yours, Mrs. Hilliard, visiting you for her Christmas vacation. As amatter of fact, she wants to look up a young girl from Riverside, whosewhereabouts have been lost by her relations. But use your own discretion,Mrs. Hilliard."
"I will, Mr. Gay," agreed the woman. "And I will take good care of MaryLouise for you," she added.
"That's right. No late hours--or being out alone at night, Mary Lou.Don't forget that this is a big city, and girls can easily get lost."
"I'll be careful, Daddy," she promised.
Mr. Gay kissed his daughter good-bye, and Mary Louise and Mrs. Hilliardtook the elevator to the second floor.
"There are ten rooms on each floor," the manager explained. "The fourthfloor belongs to the help, and I have my own little three-room apartmentat the back.
"The third floor is reserved for our permanent guests. We have thirteenof them now--some two in a room, some alone.
"Our second floor is principally for transients, although sometimesguests prefer to live there permanently. One woman named Mrs. Macgregor,a wealthy widow, likes her room and bath so much that she has decided tokeep it indefinitely. But most of the guests on the second floor come andgo....
"And now, my dear, here is your room. I was going to take you into my ownapartment at first, but I decided that would be too far away fromeverybody. Here you can mix more with the other guests. Of course,whenever you get lonely, you can come up with me. I have some nice books,if you care to read in the evening, and a radio. And perhaps you broughtyour knitting?"
"I forgot all about that," replied Mary Louise. "But of course I do knit,and I can easily buy some wool and some needles."
Mrs. Hilliard opened the door of the room that was to be Mary Louise'sand handed her the key.
"Now I'll leave you to rest and unpack," she said. "Perhaps you can comedown early before dinner to meet some of the girls in the reception room.The younger ones usually play the radio and dance a little beforedinner."
"I'll be there!" returned Mary Louise joyfully.