CHAPTER XX. THE SLEUTHS SLEUTHING
"Isn't it keen that we have this whole Friday afternoon off?" Pegpirouetted about on the snowy road in front of the girls. "Now we cancarry out all of our plans before dark, if----" She hesitated and Doriscontinued with: "'If'--the biggest word in the language. If we can beg,borrow or hire a cutter large enough to take us all out the East LakeRoad. Bertha, you'll have to drive, being our expert horsewoman."
The girls had lunched at the school and were trooping townwards, havingbeen excused for the afternoon, as none of them happened to be in a playwhich was to be rehearsed from two to four.
"Here's another if," Rose put in. "If the snow wasn't so deep on the LakeRoad, we might all pile in my runabout. I can drive _it_ as skillfully asBertha can drive her father's horses."
"But there _is_ snow on the roads as soon as you leave town," Geraldinecontributed. "The snow plough hasn't even reached as far as the Wainrighthome."
"Well, let's go to the Angel grocery first and see if a delivery sleighcan be borrowed, and if not, why then maybe I can inveigle my papa-dearto loan me one of his," Peg suggested.
This plan was followed, and fifteen minutes later the girls were seatedon the bottom of a box sleigh with Bertha and Merry up on the driver'sseat. "Dad needs this fashionable turnout by five o'clock," Bertha saidas she urged the big dapple-grey horse to its briskest trot. "Now, firstwe are to stop at the Drexels and get the bundle of laundry, I believe."The driver glanced over her shoulder and Doris nodded in the affirmative."It's all done up and waiting."
Another fifteen minutes and Dapple, having crossed the tracks, turnedinto a narrow side street where the houses were small, with manyevidences of poverty. Merry had found the address in the telephone book,and when the right number was reached, Dapple was brought to astandstill.
"This house looks real neat," Betty Byrd commented. "Clean white curtainsat the windows and a big backyard, and a lot of washing hung out."
Doris patted their youngest as she approved: "Observation is surely anexcellent trait for a sleuth to develop."
"Won't our victim think it queer that it takes seven girls to deliver onebundle of wash?" Geraldine paused to inquire as they trooped through thegate.
"What care we?" Merry was already up on the step and turned to knock onthe door, when it was opened by a girl of about their own age.
"How do you do, Miss Angel," she addressed Bertha, whom she knew bysight. "Won't you all come in?"
They entered a small but spotlessly clean sitting-room and Doris asked,"Is Mrs. Myra Comely here?"
"No, Mother isn't here just now. Won't you be seated?"
Doris hesitated. "I--er--wanted to ask her a few questions about--well,about her methods of laundering."
The girl had a pleasant face and she seemed not at all abashed to have somany of the town's "aristocracy" calling upon her at once.
"Mother is careful to use nothing that could harm the clothes, if that iswhat you mean," she informed them. "I expect her home directly, if youcare to wait." Then, seeing that there were not chairs enough, sheexcused herself and brought two from the kitchen and placed them forDoris and Bertha.
When they were all seated, Merry, with a meaning glance at herfellow-sleuths which seemed to say, "We _may_ be able to get theinformation we need from the daughter," glanced out of the window as shesaid idly, "We're having a pleasant winter, aren't we?"
"Yes, there's lots more snow in your town, though, than where we camefrom." Blue eyes and brown flashed exulting glances at one another.
"Then Sunnyside has not been your home for long?" Merry inquired.
The girl shook her head. "No, we lived in Florida for years, but I wasborn in Ireland. That was father's home, but Mother came from--" Shehesitated and glanced about apologetically. Every eye was upon her, everyear listening, but of their eager interest the girl could not guess. "Ichatter on about my folks as though you'd care to hear where we all camefrom," she said.
"O, we do care an awful lot," Betty Byrd assured her, then, catching areproving glance from Doris, their youngest wilted and the older girlsaid: "I think it's always interesting to hear where people came from,don't you, Miss----"
"My name is Myra Comely, just as my mother's is." Then she addedbrightly: "Here she is now." The door opened and a pleasant-faced womanof about forty entered and removed a shawl which she had worn over herhead.
"Howdy do," she said with a smile which included them all.
Doris stepped forward and explained that her mother wished to have herlaundry done by hand, and so they had brought it to her. Mrs. Comelythanked her and told about her methods and prices. After that there wasnothing for the girls to do but rise, preparing to go. Merry, in a lastdesperate effort to obtain the information they desired, turned at thedoor to say, "Your daughter tells us that you are from Ireland. I havealways been so interested in that country and hope to visit there someday."
The woman smiled. "I liked Ireland," she said. "I was about your age or alittle older when I left the States as a bride for that far-away island."
It was cold out and the door was open. What _could_ the girls do toobtain the needed information? Peg plunged in with, "Which state did youcome from, Mrs. Comely?" The girls gasped, but, if the woman thought it astrange question, she made no sign of it. "I was born in a little villageon the other side of Dorchester. Your laundry will be delivered onTuesday, Miss Drexel."
As the girls were driving away. Peg said: "I suppose it was awful of meto come right out with that question, but we just had to know."
"O, probably sleuths have to ask questions sometimes, although it's moreclever to get information in a round-about way," Doris said; then asked:"Bertha, how did Myra Comely happen to know _your_ name?"
"She trades at our store," was the reply. "Everyone in town, sooner orlater, sees me in there helping Dad. I post his books for him."
Geraldine felt somewhat shocked. To think that _she_ was associating witha girl who sometimes worked in a grocery. The snob in her was notentirely dead, she feared. But she _must_ kill it! How Jack would scornher if he knew her thoughts.
They were all in the sleigh and the big horse, Dapple, glad to be againon the move, for the air was snappily cold even though the sun wasshining, started toward the Lake Road at his merriest pace. Snowballsflew back at the laughing girls from his heels.
"It's three now!" Bertha glanced at her wrist watch. "Shall we stop atthe old ruin before or after we visit the Ingersol farm?"
The opinions being divided, as was their usual custom they permitted thepresident to decide, and she said wisely that she thought it moreimportant to visit the farm than it was the ruin, and so they wouldbetter go there first.
They were glad when they passed the Inn that Mr. Wiggin or his wife werenot in evidence. Mr. Wiggin was so garrulous that, if he saw any of theboys in town, he would ask what the girls had been doing out that wayalone.
Betty Byrd held fast to Doris as they turned into the side wood roadwhich was a shortcut to the old Dorchester highway.
"Skeered, little one?" the older girl smiled down at her.
"Well, sort of," the younger girl confessed. "This is where that old manwas robbed, and----"
"O, fudge," Peg sang out. "Forget it! That was the first holdup that everoccurred around here, and probably will be the last."
"Where is the Welsley farm?" Geraldine inquired after a time.
"Beyond that tall pine-tree hedge," Merry indicated with a wave of herfur-lined glove. "You'll see the crumbling cupulo in a second."
The girls gazed intently at the little they could see of the house asthey passed the long high hedge.
"I don't believe the boys come way out here for their meetings," Bertha,the sensible, remarked when they had turned into the old Dorchester road.
"In fact, I don't believe they could, much of the time, because of thesnow drifts. I think if we want to find where their clubrooms are, we'llhave to look
somewhere nearer home."
A moment later Peg called: "There it is! See the name on that signboard,'The Ingersol Chicken Farm,' and under it, 'Jams and jellies aspecialty.'"
They turned in at a wide gate in the picket fence and found themselves ina large dooryard in front of a substantially built white farmhouse. Inthe back was an orchard and long rows of berry bushes and at the sidewere many chicken runs wired in.
A tall, angular woman, wearing a man's coat and hat, appeared from a barncarrying a basket of eggs. The girls climbed from the sleigh and walkedtoward her. "Peg, suppose you do the talking this time," Merry suggested,"but use diplomacy. Don't plunge right in."
"No, _thanks_!" That maid shook her head vehemently. "It's up to you,Merry."
And so their president advanced with her friendliest smile. "Mrs.Ingersol?"
The woman, without a visible change of features, acknowledged that to beher name, and so Merry said: "We would like to buy a couple of chickensof about two or three pounds each." This surely sounded innocent enough.The woman was most business-like. To the surprise of the girls, she tookfrom her coat pocket a whistle and blew upon it a shrill blast.Instantly, or almost so, a long, lank youth appeared out of a nearbychicken yard and called, "What yo' want, Ma?"
"Two threes fixed," was the terse reply. Then to the girls: "Come alongin and get yerselves warm. Beastly cold winter we've been havin', tho'it's let up a spell."
The girls followed the woman into a large, clean kitchen. A fire snappedand crackled in the big wood stove. There was a long wood box near itwhich served as a window seat, and four of the girls ranged along on it,the others sat on white pine chairs, stiff and just alike.
The woman eyed them with an expression which revealed neither interestnor curiosity as to who they were. The girls found it harder to askquestions of this adamant sort of a creature than they had of MyraComely. But she it was who broke the ice by asking, "Do you all live inSunnyside?"
Merry nodded, smiling her brightest. "Yes, we're all from town." Then shehurried to take advantage of the opening. "Have you been here long, Mrs.Ingersol?"
"Yep, born clost to here. Never been out'n the state in my life. Hep, myson, he-uns was born here and ain't so much as been out o' the _county_.Don't reckon he's like to, as he's set on marryin' a gal down the road apiece."
The woman turned abruptly and went through a door. The girls looked ateach other tragically. "That didn't take long, but, alas and alak for us,no clues!"
Doris put a finger on her lips and nodded toward the door, which wasagain opening. The woman reappeared, divested of her masculine outergarments. She had on a dull red flannel dress, severely plain, and awhite apron, the sort farmer's wives reserve for company wear. She wascarrying a dish of cookies and an open jar of jam. She actually smiled asshe placed them on the spotless white wood table. "Help yerselves," shesaid hospitably. "Here's a knife to spread on the jam with. An' there's atin dipper over by the sink if yo' need water to help wash 'em down."
When they were again in the sleigh, and a safe distance from the house,the girls laughed merrily. "Mrs. Ingersol's kernel is sweeter than herhusk," Bertha remarked. Then added: "Girls, we'll have to go home on thisroad and leave our visit to the old ruin until some other time. It'sfour-thirty now."
"Well, we've got our chickens anyway," Merry said as she held the brownpaper bundle aloft. "Kate said we may have her kitchen tomorrow from twoo'clock on for the rest of the day. Now let's plan what else we must get.I'll tell Jack to invite the boys to our Valentine dinner. Won't they besurprised when they think we were planning it for the orphans?"