The Mary Lou Series
THE MYSTERY AT DARK CEDARS
by
EDITH LAVELL
A. L. Burt CompanyPublishersNew York Chicago
The Mary Lou SeriesbyEDITH LAVELL
The Mystery at Dark CedarsThe Mystery of the FiresThe Mystery of the Secret Band
Copyright, 1935, byA. L. Burt CompanyPrinted in the United States of America
_To My Daughter_ Jeanne Marie Lavell _Who loves mystery stories_
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE I. The House of Mystery 11 II. The Robbery 26 III. Suspects 41 IV. Interviewing Hannah 52 V. The Stolen Treasure 63 VI. A Wild Ride 76 VII. "Hands Up!" 90 VIII. A Confession 101 IX. The Fifty-Dollar Bill 114 X. Night at Dark Cedars 126 XI. The Picnic 142 XII. Bound and Gagged 156 XIII. Detective Work 168 XIV. Bad News 181 XV. An Alibi 193 XVI. Spreading the Net 204 XVII. The Empty House 215 XVIII. Found! 228 XIX. Conclusion 243
_Characters_
Mary Louise Gay a girl detective. Jane Patterson her chum. Miss Mattie Grant spinster at Dark Cedars. Elsie Grant orphan, niece of Miss Grant, living at Dark Cedars. Mrs. Grace Grant sister-in-law to Miss Grant. family of Mrs. Grace Grant. John Grant middle-aged bachelor Harry Grant younger bachelor Ellen Grant Pearson married daughter Corinne Pearson granddaughter, girl of nineteen Hannah and William Groben servants at Dark Cedars. Mr. Gay, Mrs. Gay, Joseph (Freckles) Gay family of Mary Louise. Max Miller, Norman Wilder, Hope Dorsey, Bernice Tracey friends of Mary Louise. Mrs. Abraham Lincoln Jones a colored woman. Mira a gypsy fortune teller. Silky Mary Louise's dog.
CHAPTER I _The House of Mystery_
"Be quiet, Silky! What's the matter with you? You don't usually bark likecommon dogs over nothing!"
The brown spaniel stopped under a maple tree and wagged his tailforlornly, looking pleadingly into his mistress's eyes, as if he weretrying to tell her that he wasn't just making a fuss over nothing.
Mary Louise Gay stooped over and patted his head. She was a pretty girlof sixteen, with dark hair and lovely brown eyes and long lashes thatwould make an actress envious.
"I see what Silky means!" cried her companion, Jane Patterson who livednext door to Mary Louise and was her inseparable chum. "Look, Mary Lou!Up in the tree. A kitten!"
Both girls gazed up at the leafy branches overhead and spied a tiny blackkitten crying piteously. It had climbed up and couldn't get down.
"I'll get it," said Mary Louise.
She swung herself lightly to the lowest branch, chinned herself, andclimbed the tree. In another minute she had rescued the kitten with herhands.
"Stretch on your tiptoes, Jane," she called to her chum, "and see if Ican hand it down to you."
The other girl, who was much shorter and stockier than Mary Louise, didas she was told, but the distance was too great.
"I suppose I'll have to climb down with her in one hand," concluded MaryLouise. "That's not so easy."
"Drop her over to that branch you swung up by, and I'll get her fromthere," suggested Jane.
A moment later Mary Louise was at her chum's side, stroking the littleblack kitten, now purring contentedly in Jane's arms.
"I wonder whose it is," she remarked. "There isn't any house near----"
"Except old Miss Grant's."
Both girls turned and looked at the hill which rose at the right of thelonely road on which they had been walking. The house, a large drabplaster building, was barely visible through the dark cedars thatsurrounded it on all sides. A high, thick hedge, taller than anaverage-sized man, gave the place an even greater aspect of gloominessand seclusion.
"Maybe it is Miss Grant's kitten," suggested Jane. "Old maids aresupposed to like cats, you know."
Mary Louise's brown eyes sparkled with anticipation.
"I hope it is!" she exclaimed. "And then we'll get a look at the insideof that house. Because everybody says it's supposed to be haunted. Ourcolored laundress's little girl was walking past it one evening aboutdusk, and she heard the most terrible moan. She claims that two eyes,without any head or body, looked out through the hedge at her. Shedropped her bundle and ran as fast as she could for home."
"You don't really believe there is anything, do you, Mary Lou?"
"I don't know. There must be something queer about it."
"Maybe there's a crazy woman shut up in the tower."
"You've been reading _Jane Eyre_, haven't you, Jane? But there isn't anytower on the Grant house."
"Well, I guess Miss Grant is crazy enough herself. She dresses in stylesof forty years ago. Did you ever see her?"
"Yes, I've had a glimpse of her once or twice when I walked past here.She looks like the picture of the old maid on the old-maid cards. It mustbe awful for that girl who lives with her."
"What girl?" inquired Jane.
"A niece, I believe. She must be about our age. Her father and motherboth died, so she has to live with Miss Grant. They say the old ladytreats her terribly--much worse than the two old servants she keeps."
While this conversation was going on, the two girls, followed by Silky,were walking slowly up the hill towards the big hedge which surroundedthe Grant place. Once inside the yard, it was almost like being in adeep, thick woods. Cedar trees completely enclosed the house and grewthick on both sides of the narrow path leading from the gate to theporch. In spite of the fact that it was broad daylight, Jane foundherself shuddering. But Mary Louise seemed delighted with the strange,gloomy atmosphere.
"Doesn't this girl go to high school?" asked Jane. "If she's about ourage----"
"I don't believe so. I never saw her there."
They stopped when they reached the steps of the porch and looked aboutwith curiosity. It certainly was a run-down place. Boards were broken inthe steps, and pieces of plaster had crumbled from the outer wall. Thegrayish-colored ivy which grew over the house seemed to emphasize itsaspect of the past.
"Isn't Miss Grant supposed to be rich?" whispered Jane incredulously. "Itdoesn't look like it!"
"They say she's a miser. Hoards every cent she can get." Mary Louisesmiled. "I believe I'll tell Daddy to report her for hoarding. Shedeserves it!"
"Better wait and find out whether she really is rich, hadn't you?"returned Jane. "Your father's a busy man."
Mary Louise nodded and looked at her dog.
"You lie down, Silky," she commanded, "and wait here for us. Miss Grantprobably wouldn't like you. She might think you'd hurt Pussy." She smiledindulgently. "She doesn't know you belong to the Dog Scouts and do a kindact every day--like rescuing cats in distress!"
The spaniel obeyed, and the two girls mounted the rickety steps of theporch. Although it was la
te in June, the door was closed tightly, andthey had to pull a rusty knocker to let the people inside know that theywere there.
It was some minutes before there was any reply.
A sad-faced girl in an old-fashioned purple calico dress finally openedthe door and stared at them with big gray eyes. The length of her dress,the way her blond hair was pulled back and pinned into a tight knot, madeher seem much older than her visitors.
A suggestion of a smile crossed her face at the sight of the girls'pleasant faces, and for a second she looked almost pretty.
"Is this your kitten?" asked Mary Louise. "We rescued it from a tree downthe road."
The girl nodded.
"Yes. It belongs to my aunt Mattie. Come in, and I'll call her."
The girls stepped into the dark square hall and looked about them. Theinside of the house was even more forbidding than the outside. Theceilings were high and the wall paper dark. All the shutters were drawn,as if there were poison in the June sunlight. For no reason at all thatthey could see, the old stairs suddenly creaked.
Jane shuddered visibly, and the girl in the purple dress smiled.
"Don't mind the queer noises," she said. "Nothing ever happens indaytime."
"Then something does happen after dark?" questioned Mary Louise eagerly.
"Oh, yes. Why, only two nights ago----"
"What's this? What's this?" demanded the sharp, high voice of an oldwoman. "What are you standing there talking about, Elsie? With all thosepeaches waiting to be pared!"
All eyes turned naturally towards the old staircase, from which the soundof the voice was coming. Miss Grant slowly descended, holding her hand onher right side and grunting to herself as if the act of walking werepainful to her. She was a woman of at least sixty-five, thin andwrinkled, but with little sharp black beady eyes that seemed to peer intoeverything suspiciously, as if she believed the whole world evil. She waswearing an old-fashioned black dress, and a dark shawl about hershoulders.
"These girls have found your kitten, Aunt Mattie," Elsie informed her."They rescued her from a tree."
The black eyes softened, and the old woman came towards the girls.
"My precious little Puffy!" she exclaimed, as one might talk to a baby.Then her tone abruptly became harsh again as she turned to her niece.
"Go back to your work, Elsie!" she ordered gruffly. "I'll attend tothis!"
Without any reply the girl slunk away to the kitchen, and Miss Grant tookthe kitten from Jane.
"Tell me what happened to my poor little pet," she said.
Briefly Jane repeated the story, with an emphasis upon Mary Louise'sprowess in climbing trees.
Apparently the old lady was touched.
"I must say that was good of you," she remarked. "Not a bit like whatmost young people nowadays would do! All they seem to enjoy is torturingpoor helpless creatures!"
She put the kitten down on the floor and turned towards the stairs.
"You wait!" she commanded the girls, "I'm going to get you a reward forthis!"
"Oh, no, Miss Grant!" they both protested instantly, and Mary Louise wenton to explain that they were Girl Scouts and never accepted money forgood turns. (Even Silky knows better than that, she added to herself. Hewon't expect a bone for rescuing Pussy--only a pat on the head!)
"You really mean that?" demanded Miss Grant, in obvious relief. She wouldsave two cents! She had meant to give each girl a whole penny!
"Tell me your names, then," she continued, "and where you live. I mightwant to call on you for help sometime. I can't trust my niece as far asmy nose, and my servants are both old." Mary Louise chuckled. So therewas a mystery in this house! A lurking danger that Miss Grant and herniece both feared! And she and Jane were being drawn into it.
"Jane Patterson and Mary Louise Gay," she replied. "We live over inRiverside, next to the high school. You can get us on the phone."
"I haven't a telephone. Too expensive. Besides, if I had one, I couldn'ttell what deviltry Elsie might be up to.... No, I don't hold with thesemodern inventions."
"Well, you could send Elsie for us if you need any help," suggested Jane."It's only a little over a mile. You see, Mary Louise's father is adetective on the police force, and we're both interested in mysteries."
"I'm not thinking of any mystery," snapped Miss Grant. "What I'm thinkingof is _facts_. One fact is that I've got a pack of scheming relations whoare trying to send me off to the hospital for an operation while theyloot my house."
Mary Louise's forehead wrinkled in surprise.
"I didn't know you had any relations besides your niece," she said.
"Certainly I have. Haven't you ever heard of the Grants in Riverside?Mrs. Grace Grant--a woman about my age? She has two grown sons and amarried daughter. Well, they spent all their money, and now they wantmine. But they're not going to get it!"
Her hand went to her side again, as if she were in pain, and Mary Louisedecided it was time for them to go.
"Well, good-bye, Miss Grant," she said. "And don't forget to call on usif you want help."
It was a relief to be out in the bright sunlight again, away from thegloom and the decay of that ugly house. Mary Louise took a deep breathand whistled for Silky. He was waiting at the foot of the porch steps.
As they walked down the path they were startled by a rustle in one of thecedar trees. Silky perked up his ears and went to investigate thedisturbance. In another moment a head peered cautiously through thebranches. It was Elsie Grant.
"Will you come over here and talk to me a little while?" she whispered,as if she were afraid of being caught. "I never see any girls my ownage--and--you look so nice!"
Both Mary Louise and Jane were touched by the loneliness of this poorunhappy orphan. They went gladly to her side.
"Don't you go to school?" asked Mary Louise. "I mean--when it isn'tvacation time?"
The girl shook her head.
"That must be awful!" exclaimed Jane. "Sometimes I hate school, but I'dcertainly hate worse never to go. How old are you?"
"I'm only fifteen," replied Elsie. "But it seems as if I were fifty. Imean--the time is so long. Yet I've really only lived here with AuntMattie two years."
"And didn't you ever go to school?" questioned Mary Louise. She couldn'tbelieve that, for the girl spoke beautiful English.
"Oh, yes--before I came here. I was just ready to enter high school whenmother died--only a couple of months after my father was killed in anaccident. He was Aunt Mattie's youngest brother. And he didn't leave anymoney, so I had to come and live with her."
"But I can't see why she doesn't send you to school," protested Jane."It's a public high school. It wouldn't cost her anything."
"Yes, it would, because I haven't any clothes except these old things ofhers. I can't go anywhere--I'm too ashamed."
Mary Louise's eyes gleamed with indignation.
"That's terrible!" she cried. "We can report her--"
Elsie shook her head.
"No, you couldn't. Because she feeds me well enough and gives me clothingthat is clean, and warm enough in winter. No, there isn't a thing anybodycan do. Except wait until I'm old enough to work in somebody's kitchen."
"No!" protested Jane.
"But I thought if I could just see you two girls once in a while and talkto you, life wouldn't seem so bad. If I could call you by your firstnames----"
"Of course you can," Mary Louise assured her, and she told Elsie theirnames. "We'll come over often. And I don't believe your aunt will object,because she seems to like us."
"She loves that kitten," explained Elsie. "It's the only thing in theworld she does love, besides money."
"She mentioned her money," remarked Jane, "and told us that she believedher relatives were trying to get it away from her."
"By the way," said Mary Louise, "you started to tell us about somethingthat happened here two nights ago. Remember? What was it?"
Elsie shivered, as though the memory of it were still painful to her.
"I sleep up in the attic, all by myself. And I hear the most awful noisesall night. I'm always scared to death to go to bed."
"Don't the servants sleep there too?" asked Mary Louise. She was anxiousto get her facts straight from the beginning.
"No. They sleep on the second floor, in a room over the kitchen. Thereare just two of them--an old married couple named Hannah and WilliamGroben.
"Well, night before last I heard more distinct noises than ever. First Ithought it was one of the trees near my window, and I nerved myself toget out of bed and look out. And what do you think I saw?"
"A ghost?" whispered Jane, in awe.
"No, I don't think so. I believe it was a human being. Anyway, all I sawwas two bright eyes peering in at the window!"
"What did you do?" demanded Mary Louise breathlessly. "Scream?"
"No, I didn't. Once before I screamed, and Aunt Mattie had Williaminvestigate everything, and when he found nobody I was punished for myfoolishness. I had to eat bread and water for two days. And it taught mea lesson. I never screamed again."
"Then what happened?"
"I think whoever it was climbed from the tree into the attic storeroomwindow and went through an old trunk in there. I heard a little noise,but I couldn't tell whether it was only the wind or not. Anyway, nothingwas known about it till yesterday, when Aunt Mattie went up to look forsomething in her trunk."
"Did you tell her then?"
"I tried to. But she wouldn't listen. She accused me of going through hertrunk. But I wasn't punished, because nothing was stolen."
"Then it couldn't have been a robber," said Mary Louise. "Or somethingwould have been taken. Wasn't there anything else in the house missing?"
"Not a thing! Hannah even counted the silver and found it was all there."
"How does Hannah account for it? Or does she think, like your aunt, thatyou did it?" questioned Mary Louise.
"Hannah says it was 'spirits.' She says the spirits can't rest as long astheir old things are around. She wants Aunt Mattie to burn or give awayall the old clothing in the house. She says dead people's clothes arepossessed."
Jane let out a peal of laughter, but Mary Louise warned her to be quiet."We mustn't get Elsie into trouble," she explained.
"Was that the only time anything like that ever happened?" asked Jane.
"No. Once, earlier in the spring, when Hannah and William were away atsome lodge supper, their room was entered and searched. I was blamed andpunished then, though nothing was missing that time, either. But theawful part of it is: I expect it to happen again every night. Every timethe wind howls or a branch beats against a windowpane, I'm sure they'recoming again--whoever they are. And--I'm afraid!"
"Something's got to be done!" announced Mary Louise, with determination."I'm not my father's daughter if I allow a mysterious outrage like thisto go on." She pressed Elsie's hand. "You can count on us," sheconcluded. "We'll be back to see you tomorrow!"