All chapters of Mystery of the Secret Band will be recorded by April 6-0-9-0, California, United States of America. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Mystery of the Secret Band by Edith LaVell Chapter 1 A Real Detective Mary Louise stamped the snow from her feet and removed her galoshes on the porch. Whistling the Christmas carol her class had just sung at school, she opened the door of her house and stepped inside. Her mother was sitting in an armchair in the living room, sewing. She looked up with a smile at her daughter. How did your entertainment go? She inquired. Swell! replied Mary Louise enthusiastically. The seniors were great! You should have seen Max!  Oh! I wasn't so hot! laughed Mary Louise modestly. I'll tell you who was the star of the afternoon. Little Rosemary Dott's. She was so funny. She forgot all of her peace except the second line. I'm going to have plum pudding! Well, she said that once, and then she stared around at the audience and repeated it. Still she couldn't think of any more.  Well, she kept that up until I thought we'd just pass out laughing at her. Honestly, the tears were rolling down my cheeks. Her teacher had to come up to the platform and take her away. That must have been funny, agreed Mrs. Gay. Well, I guess you're thankful that it's all over. How do you like this weather for your vacation?  It's keen, she exclaimed. She executed a little dance step in her joy. Two whole weeks with nothing to do but coast and skate and dance, and eat and sleep once in a while. Oh, yes, of course, especially eat. What would Christmas be without eating? What are you going to do now? inquired her mother. Go coasting! Max and Norman are bringing the bobsled over in ten minutes, and Jane and I are supposed to be ready. You better hurry, then, get something to eat first. And, I forgot to tell you, your father wants to see you at half past five this afternoon. Be sure to be home in time. He said he wanted to consult you. About somebody's Christmas present? I thought all our Christmas shopping was finished last week. It was. This hasn't anything to do with presents, but it concerns your Christmas vacation, I believe, replied Mrs. Gay. Oh, that sounds exciting, exclaimed Mary Louise. Mr. Gay was a detective on the police force and, knowing his daughter's keen interest in the solution of crimes, he sometimes discussed his cases with her. Already she had shown marketability in the same line herself by unraveling two baffling mysteries the preceding summer. She ran out into the kitchen and poured a glass of milk for herself and cut a piece of chocolate cake. This brisk weather certainly made her feel hungry, and the refreshments tasted good. Then she dashed upstairs to change into her snowsuit, a long-trousered costume that happened to be popular with the older girls at the moment. When she was all ready she opened her side window and whistled to her chum, Jane Patterson, who lived across the snow-covered lawn in the house next door. Yo, Jane, she called. Immediately a corresponding window flew up and a youthful face appeared at the enclosure. Ready, was the reply. Boy's there yet? I think I hear them, returned Mary Louise. Come on over. The windows were slammed down simultaneously and the two girls dashed downstairs to their porches. Before they had finished putting on their galoshes, the boys were at the gay's house. Left the sled at the gate, announced Max Miller, Mary Louise is a special boyfriend in Riverside. Do you think the snow's packed hard enough? Demanded Jane. Hope so! Returned Max with a grin. The kids were sledding last night over near Cooper's Woods, so they ought to have made a track. Anyhow, we can have some fun. You've just got to be outdoors, weather like this. They made their way across the yard, chatting about the school entertainment, their dates for the next two weeks, and the fun which Christmas always brought them. When they reached the hill where the coasting was the best, near Riverside, they found many of their old high school friends, and for two hours they alternately rode down the steep incline at a breathtaking speed and then trudged slowly back to the top. The sun was setting, and the afternoon was gone before they knew it. Oh, I must go home! exclaimed Mary Louise, glancing at her wristwatch and amazement. It's only five o'clock! returned Max complacently. You don't need at your house before six thirty, do you? Come on, Mary Lou! Called Jane all aboard. Her chum shook her head. I can't, Jane. I've got to be home by five thirty. Why the rush! demanded Max. I have to see my father. He left word with mother for me to be there. Oh, you can see him at supper! observed Jane lightly. You don't want to break up the party, do you? No, of course not. No need for that at all. I'll just run along by myself. You people take some more rides. Nicks! answered Max loyally. You're not going home alone past these woods. If you have to go, Mary Lou, I'll go too. Oh, we might as well all go, said Jane. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to be on time for a meal once in a while. Still, I don't see what all the fuss is about. Max looked straight into Mary Lou's eyes, a serious expression on his face.  Surely last summer was enough! The girl laughed. Yes, it was plenty. Haven't I been pretty good all fall? Never tried to listen in on any of dad's cases or hunt for clues. I should think you'd be cured, remarked Jane. The whole town could burn down before I'd go through an experience like yours last summer to discover a criminal. And if it hadn't been for Max and Norman, I owed them my life, said Mary Louie, half seriously, half smilingly. But in her heart she felt a deep sense of gratitude to her two youthful rescuers. Max could use it, remarked Norman slyly. I'll say I could, muttered together young man fervently. But you really don't think you'll do dangerous things again, do you, Mary Lou? He asked eagerly. You'll leave the solving of mysteries and crimes to your father hereafter, won't you? Mary Louie's eyes twinkled. I'm not making any rash promises. It sort of gets into the blood, Max. There's no other thrill like it. I'd rather solve a mystery than eat. But I really don't think there's anything for me to solve now, so you can put your mind at rest. I'll feel safer after this talk with who father is over, returned the young man. They came to a hill, and the subject was forgotten as they all piled on the sled and rode down together. It was only a little past five-thirty when Mary and Louie's opened the door of her house. Her father was already there, beside the roaring logs in the fireplace, comfortably smoking. Mr. Gay was a tall, impressive-looking man, with a determined jaw, which announced to the world that he usually accomplished whatever he set out to do. He was proud of his daughter's detective work that summer, and delighted to have her follow in his footsteps, though he wished he might keep her always from the more gruesome features in the pursuit of crimes and criminals. Hello, Mary Lou, he called, gazing admiringly at her rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes. Did you have a good time? Wonderful, she replied, hanging up her snowflake coat. I'm sorry to be late, Dad, but I had a hard time getting the others home. That's all right, daughter. It won't take long for me to tell you what I have in mind. It may take longer for you to decide upon your answer. Mary Louie sat down opposite him and waited expectantly, not saying another word. There is a small hotel for women in Philadelphia. He began. It is a pretty up-to-date place, though they try to keep their rates down because it is endowed, and supposedly was started for girls in moderate circumstances. They have been having some trouble lately, valuables have been stolen, and they are practically sure that none of the servants is guilty, so they want a detective. A detective? Repeated Mary Louie's breathlessly. You mean?  The proposition was put up to me, and naturally I can't handle it myself. I was to find them a woman detective for a week or so, and I suggested you. The woman in charge is delighted.  And you could have a room near hers, under her protection, you see. Now the great question is, would you want to give up your holiday for this purpose? All those engagements you have, all the fun you have planned with your young friends, Christmas day alone in a strange city, would it be worth it to you? It did not take Mary Louie's any moment to make her decision. I'd love it, Dad," she cried ecstatically, but I shouldn't know how to go about it. She added, hesitatingly, what to do, how to begin. Mrs. Hillard, she is the hotel manager, would give you all the facts, explained her father.  You can let me know tomorrow. Mary Louie's nodded solemnly, I know Daddy, but this seems like the chance of a lifetime because you see I mean to be a detective when I graduate from high school. This is something definite to go on, a real experience which I can make use of when I apply for a job. Yes, of course, and by the way, there is a salary attached. You are to get twenty-five dollars a week and an extra bonus if you get any of the lost valuables back. Oh, Daddy! The exclamation list almost a whisper. So odd was Mary Louie's at the thought of actually earning money in the work that she loved best in all the world. When would I start? She asked. I could take you with me to Philadelphia tomorrow morning, but that wouldn't give you much time to write notes to your friends and pack your things. I suppose you'd have a lot of engagements to break. Yes, but they don't matter. Don't you want to thank it over another day? I could come back and take you after the weekend. No, Daddy, there's not a question of doubt in my mind. I want to try it and start as soon as possible. Some of the crowd will be at James tonight, and I can tell them and phone to the others. I'll pack my clothes before I go. Have you told Mother yet? No, I haven't. I thought there was no use stirring her up if you didn't care to undertake it. But now we'll have to break the news to her, if you're sure. You tell her, Daddy, urge Mary Louie's, it will be easier. All right, I will, he promised. A voice sounded from the kitchen. Mary Louie's, could you do an errand for me? You'll just have time before supper. Yes, Mother," replied the girl, jumping to her feet, then in a whisper to her father, she added, telling her while I'm gone. Picking up her coat again, she ran out into the kitchen. I want you to take this basket of jellies and fruit cake over to old Mrs. Deightweiler," said Mrs. Gay. I think it would be nice for them to have the things earlier this year, because they have so little at Christmas time. Yes, it would, Mother, agreed the girl absently. Ask them whether they've heard anything from Margaret, asked Mrs. Gay. Maybe she's coming home for Christmas. She wasn't home all summer, was she, Mother? No, and they didn't hear from her either. They're terribly worried. I can't see why Margaret Deightweiler would do a thing like that, when her grandparents have been so good to her all her life. Why, Mrs. Deightweiler wore the same dress for five years, just so she could put Margaret through high school. And the girl always seemed so grateful and affectionate, too. Maybe something happened to her, suggested Mary Louise. Surely they would have heard of it, had, well, run along, dear, and come right back, because dinner is practically ready. Mary Louise pulled on her beret and her galoshes and went out into the snow again. It was entirely dark now, but the stars were shining, and the air was just cold enough to be invigorating, how good it was to be young and lively and happy. How sorry she felt for this poor old couple whom she was visiting, missing their granddaughter so dreadfully. But perhaps everything was all right. Maybe Margaret Deightweiler was coming home for Christmas. The small brick house where the old couple lived was only a few blocks from Mary Louise's home. Half walking, half running, the girl covered the distance in less than ten minutes. She saw a low light in the living room and knocked at the door. Both of the Deightweilers were well over seventy, and they lived modestly but comfortably on a small pension which Mr. Deightweiler received. They had been sufficient for their needs until the death of Margaret's parents obliged them to take care of their only grandchild. But they had gladly sacrificed everything to give Margaret an education and a happy girlhood. She was older than Mary Louise by three or four years, so that the latter had never known her well. But she had always seemed like a sweet girl. Margaret Deightweiler opened the door and insisted that Mary Louise come inside. Both the old people loved Mrs. Gay and enjoyed the wonderful presence of her own making she sent every Christmas. They were profusin' their thanks.   But she wanted me to ask you whether you had heard anything from Margaret.' Tears came to the old lady's eyes, and she shook her head. "'Not a thing since last Christmas,' she answered sadly. "'You know, she didn't come home, then. But she wrote to us and sent us a box of lovely presents. Expensive things. So I knew she must be doing well. She had a position in a Harrisburg store at first, you know. And then she told us she had got in a fine job in a Philadelphia store. That was where the last letter came from, the last we ever received from her. "'Didn't you write to her?' asked Mary Louise. "'Yes, of course we did. But the letter was returned to us. "'What store was she working in? I am going to Philadelphia for the Christmas holidays, and I might be able to find her. "'I'm not sure, but the package was marked, Strawbridge and Clothier, on the box. Did you ever hear of that store?' "'Yes, I did. And I'll go there and make inquiries for you, Mrs. Deightweiler.' The old lady sees Mary Louise's hand gratefully. "'Oh, if you could only find her, Mary Louise?' she exclaimed. "'We'd be the happiest couple alive.' "'I'll do the best I can,' promised the girl as she turned to the door. She ran all the way home, eager to find out what her mother was going to say, and reply to her father's startling proposition about her Christmas vacation. End of Chapter 1 This recording is in the public domain. Chapter 2 Of Mystery of the Secret Band This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Mystery of the Secret Band by Edith Lovell 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 Louise heartily on being chosen for a difficult piece of work. "'You're a lucky girl,' cried Freckles, Mary Louise's young brother. "'Wish I was old enough to take the job?' "'You couldn't take this one, son,' his father reminded him. "'Because it's a woman's job. A man would be out of place in a woman's hotel. But Mary Lou can go about unnoticed. People will think she's just a guest. "'25 bucks a week!' repeated Freckles. What are you going to do with all that money, sis?' "'I don't know. Wait and see if I earn it. But if I do, we'll all have something 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.'  The debt-wilers haven't heard a thing from Margaret, mother. Not since they received a box last Christmas from Philadelphia. But I promised to try to hunt her up for them. "'Oh, I feel sorry for them!' exclaimed Mrs. Gay. I do hope that nothing 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 being in 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 important of the two. I'm sure Margaret debt-wiler is more precious to her grandparents than money and valuables to the women at that hotel.' Though her mother accepted the situation calmly, owing to her father's persuasion, no doubt, Mary Louise found her best friends less agreeable. Jane raised a howl of protest when she heard of the plan, and Max Miller looked so crushed and unhappy that for a moment or two Mary Louise even considered the idea of giving the whole thing up. "'I asked you two months ago to go to the senior dance during Christmas week,' 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, because this 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're class president, don't forget, and you'll need to perform your social duties, and any other girl will do as your partner.' "'No other girl will do at all,' he protested stubbornly. I won't take anybody else. I'll go stag. I'd stay home entirely if I weren't president. Well, maybe I'll have the whole mystery solved in the week before Christmas, and get home in time for the dance,' remarked Mary Louise optimistically. More likely, you'll stay a week over time,' muttered the young man, or maybe 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't suppose my parents would allow me to leave high school and take a regular job when I'm only sixteen, do you? I shan't be seventeen till next spring, you know. But Max refused to be consoled, and Jane Patterson upheld him in his attitude. Jane was ridiculous, foolhardy, dumb, silly, every adjective she could think of. To go to a strange city and be all alone during Christmas week, when you couldn't be having a perfectly wonderful time in Riverside.  "'And what good will your career be to you then?' "'Lots of good,' returned Mary Louise complacently. "'If I'm going to be an old maid, I'll certainly want a career. But I don't see why a career should interfere with marriage. I'll have plenty of time to have it first. 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 than she had ever been in her life, and she meant to put her whole soul into this job. Not only for her own sake, but for her father's as well. In her two previous experiences, personal inclination had made her unravel the mysteries. But now she felt that her father's reputation was involved. If he recommended someone who was incompetent, a failure would reflect upon him. Oh, she must succeed if it were humanly possible. She left the party early that evening and went home to finish packing her suitcase. Immediately after breakfast, the next morning, she and her father took the train to Philadelphia. The snow had ceased falling, but the country was still covered with white. The sun shone and the landscape was lovely. Mary Louise had never been to Philadelphia before, and she watched everything eagerly as she approached the terminal. It was a big city, in comparison with Riverside, or even Harrisburg, but not so big as New York, which she had visited several times. "'Where's the hotel, Daddy?' she asked as it left the train. And what is its name? It's up near the parkway, and it is called Stoddard House, because a wealthy woman by the name of Stoddard left some money in her will to build 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 first floor is planned for the girls' social uses, a card room, several small rooms for the girls to entertain callers, a library, a larger reception room for dancing, and the dining room are all part of the plan. But you'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 little apprehensively. "'The Philadelphia police will have your name on file. I sought you that. So the minute you call for help, you can get it. And don't hesitate to phone me long distance any time you need me. I'll give you my list of addresses for the week. Don't stop for expense. We can't consider money in cases like this.' Mary Louise nodded proudly. Never in her life had she been so happy.  Her only misgiving, as they approached, the hotel, was caused by her extreme youth. She hoped fervently that nobody would guess her age. The hotel was an attractive place. Set back from the street by a small terrace. This trim brick walls and white-painted doorway and windows looked cozy and home-like. What a nice place to live!  How thankful she was that the place wasn't gloomy and tumbled down like dark cedars, where she had made her first investigations as an amateur detective. Nobody would be telling her that ghosts haunted the walls of Stoddard House. Her father opened the door for her, and she proceeded him into the lobby. It was rather small, as lobbies go, with only one counter desk, one lounge, and a couple of elevators, which you worked yourself at the side. But doors opened out from the lobby on all sides, revealing glimpses of numerous attractive reception rooms beyond. Mr. Gay nodded to the girl at the desk and inquired for Mrs. Hillard. In a couple of minutes a stout middle-aged woman appeared and smiled pleasantly at him. He introduced Mary Louise. Let's get back into my office where we can talk undisturbed. Suggested Mrs. Hillard, leading the way out of a door and along a hall to another smaller room. Now sit down, and I'll tell you about our difficulties. Mr. Gay and his daughter made themselves comfortable, and Mary Louise took out her notebook, the same notebook which she had made so valuable on two previous occasions. Last September was the first time we ever had any trouble at all, began Mrs. Hillard. We lost a couple set of silverware. It does in each of knives, forks, and spoons. But as these were only plated the loss did not run into a great deal of money, so we didn't make much fuss. I suppose that one of the maids stole them, a waitress who left the next day to be married. But I must have been mistaken, for more things disappeared after she left, a very unusual vase we had in the library, quite valuable too, for it had belonged in the Stoddard family. That made it look as if the thief were a connoisseur. The matron and I were watching the help carefully, and we felt sure that none of them was responsible. We hadn't many guests at the time. There are only about a dozen who live here permanently. And there happened to be only a couple of transients. What are transients, Mrs. Hillard? Asked Mary Louise, who is unfamiliar with the term. They're the people who stop in for a day or two, or even a week, and don'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 one of the permanent lodgers were responsible. These two girls, I have forgotten their names, were here when the silverware and the vase disappeared. But they were not here in October when our watches were taken. 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 days and then said her show was closing up. The young detective wrote all these facts into her notebook and asked whether that was all. Not quite, replied Mrs. Hillard.  Two of our regular guests have moved away because of it, and others have threatened to do so if anything else is stolen. She looked doubtfully at Mary Louise. I'm sure I don't know how you would go about an investigation like this, she said. But perhaps you do. Are you willing to try it? Of course I am, cried the girl eerily. It's just the kind of thing I love. I've put down everything you said, Mrs. Hillard, and I'm all ready to go to work now. I want to see the hotel and meet the guests as soon as possible. I think Mary Louise had better keep secret the fact that she is spying on them, put in Mr. Gay. Just let them think that she is a young friend of yours, Mrs. Hillard, visiting you for her Christmas vacation. As a matter of fact, she wants to look up a young girl from Riverside, whose whereabouts have been lost by her relations. Use your own discretion, Mrs. Hillard. I will, Mr. Gay, agreed the woman, and I will take good care of Mary Louise 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 goodbye, and Mary Louise and Mrs. Hillard took the elevator to the second floor. There are 10 rooms on each floor, the manager explained. The fourth floor belongs to the help, and I have my own little three-room apartment at the back. The third floor is reserved for our permanent guests. We have 13 of them now, some to in a room, some alone. Our second floor is principally for transients, although sometimes guests prefer to live there permanently. One woman named Mrs. McGregor, a wealthy widow, likes her room and bath so much that she has decided to keep it indefinitely. But most of the guests on the second floor come and go. And now, my dear, here is your room. I was going to take you into my own apartment at first, but I decided that would be too far away from everybody. 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 brought your 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. Hillard opened the door of the room that was to be Mary Louise's and handed her the key. Now I'll leave you to rest and unpack," she said. Perhaps you can come down early, before dinner, to meet some of the girls in the reception room. The younger ones usually play the radio and dance a little before dinner. I'll be there," returned Mary Louise joyfully. End of Chapter 2 Chapter 3 of Mystery of the Secret Band by Edith Lavelle Mary Louise was a little off-struck as she sat down alone in her new bedroom. The first time she had ever been away from home by herself, without any friends. Alone in a big city, working on a job. It seemed to her that she had suddenly grown up. She couldn't be the same carefree, high school girl who had gone coasting only yesterday afternoon with her friends. A momentary sensation of depression took hold of her as she thought of Jane and the boys and the informal party she was missing that evening. It would be wonderful if Jane could be with her now, sharing her experiences as she always had, helping her to solve this mystery. But such a thing was impossible, of course. Jane wouldn't want to give up the Christmas gaiety at Riverside. And besides, this was a real job. You couldn't bring your friends along on a real job as if it were only play. Then she thought of that other Riverside girl, alone in this big city. Margaret Detweiler, the girl who had so mysteriously disappeared. What could have happened to her? Suppose something like that should happen to Mary Louise. I'm positively getting morbid, she thought, jumping up from the chair on which she was seated and beginning to unpack her things. I'd better get dressed and go down and meet some of the young people. I'll never accomplish anything by mooning about like this.   She was lucky to have such a nice place to live in, and Mrs. Hillard was certainly a deer. She found the shower-bath down the hall, and feeling refreshed, slipped into a new wine-red crepe which her mother had bought her especially for the holidays. It was very becoming, and her eyes sparkled as she ran down the steps to the first floor, no use bothering with elevators when she had only one flight to go. Mrs. Hillard was at the desk, talking to the secretary who was putting on her hat and coat. "'Oh, Mary Louise,' she said, "'I want you to come here and register and meet Miss Horton. This is Miss Gay,' she explained, a young friend of mine. She is visiting me for the holidays, and I forgot to have her register when she came in. But as she is using room 206 and not my apartment, I think she had better register. Mary Louise nodded approvingly and wrote her name in the book. "'You have never come across a girl named Margaret Deitweiler? Have you, Miss Horton?' she asked. I want to find her, if I can, while I'm in Philadelphia.' The secretary shook her head. "'No, I don't think so. You might look through the book, though. I can't remember all the Trainsians who have stopped here at Stoddard House.' "'Naturally,' agreed Mary Louise, and she turned the pages eagerly. But, of course, she did not find the name. Coincidences like that don't often happen. And besides, she reasoned. If she did find it, it wouldn't do her much good. That wouldn't tell her where Margaret was now. "'Come into the music room with me,' said Mrs. Hillard. I see one of our newest arrivals here, a young girl who came only last week. She can't be more than 19 or 20. I think you'd like each other.'  She looked up as Mrs. Hillard and Mary Louise entered the room. "'Miss Brooks, I want you to meet a friend of mine. Miss Gay,' said Mrs. Hillard. "'Perhaps I'd better say Pauline and Mary Louise, because I know you young people don't bother with last names.' The girls smiled at each other, and the manager went towards the door. "'Would you be good enough to take care of Mary Louise? Introduce her to any of the other girls who come in, Miss Brooks? Just go back to the desk, for the secretary has gone home.' "'Certainly,' agreed Pauline immediately. She turned on some dance music. "'What do you say we dance?' she asked Mary Louise. "'And does everybody call you by both names?' Most people shortened it to Mary Lou. "'Yes, I love to dance. That's a dandy foxtrot.' The girls stepped off, Pauline talking gaily all the time, asking Mary Louise all sorts of questions, where she was from, how long she was going to stay, and so on. Mary Louise answered pleasantly, happy to have found a new friend. It wouldn't be so bad without Jane, now that she had found a girl near her own age in Philadelphia, although she thought that Pauline was probably near twenty-five than twenty. Middle-aged people like Mrs. Hillard weren't so good at guessing young people's ages, unless they had children of their own. "'I wish I could take Pauline into my confidence,' thought Mary Louise, and have her help me the way Jane did. It would be so much nicer.' But she knew that would not be wise. Her father and Mrs. Hillard wanted her to keep her job a secret. However, she did make it a point to ask Pauline a few questions, in return for those she had answered. Not that she was interested in Pauline as a suspect. The girl had only arrived last week, Mrs. Hillard said, but because she really wanted a young companion while she was in this strange city. "'My parents are dead,' Pauline told her. I have a rich aunt who usually stays at the Ritz when she's in Philadelphia, but I don't care enough about her to live with her. I sort of flip from place to place and write fashion articles for the magazines whenever my income runs short. I have a pretty good time.' "'Have you ever stayed at Stoddard House before?' asked Mary Louise. "'No, I usually avoid women's places, like YWCA's.' And girl's clubs was the reply. But this sort of looked different to me, and I thought I'd give it a try. It's pretty good, don't you think? I like it very much.' By this time half a dozen people had entered the room, and two more couples were dancing. Suddenly Mary Louise felt bewildered. How could she possibly get to know so many people in the short space of two weeks and hope to find the thief? The music changed, and the other dancers left the room. Apparently the dining-room doors were open. "'Gosh, I couldn't introduce you to any of those women, Mary Louise,' said Pauline. "'I don't know any of their names.' "'Oh, that's all right,' agreed the young detective. "'I'm not feeling a bit lonely.' "'Let's go eat. Or are you supposed to wait for Mrs. Hillard?' "'No, she told me not to. She's such a busy person. She has to snatch her meals whenever she can. But I'll be with her in the evenings.' "'Exciting life,' observed Pauline. "'Maybe I can rake up a date for you later. I've got one myself for tonight, and I'll sound Ben out. If he can get hold of another fellow for tomorrow night.' "'Oh, I don't think I'd better make any plans,' interrupted Mary Louise. "'Though I do appreciate it a lot, Pauline. But you see, I am Mrs. Hillard's guest. I have to consult her.' "'Okay.' "'We don't want any of the old dames parking with us,' observed Pauline, glancing at a couple of elderly women just entering the room. They cramp my style.' "'Rather,' laughed Mary Louise, though she secretly wished she might meet some of the old dames, as Pauline called them, any one of them might be the thief.' Pauline Brooks was very different from the girls of Riverside, not nearly so refined, Mary Louise thought. But she was a gay companion and made witty remarks about everything. No doubt she was a clever rider. Just as the girls finished their excellent dinner, Mrs. Hillard came into the room. Pauline stood up. "'I'll be running along, Mary Lou,' she said. "'Now you have company. I'd better leave you and get dressed.' Mary Louise smiled. "'Have a good time, and I'll see you tomorrow.' "'Not too early,' warned Pauline. "'I'll probably be dancing till the small hours to-night.' She left the room, and Mrs. Hillard sat down in her place.  "'Yes, indeed,' replied the girl. "'And did you enjoy your dinner? It was wonderful, just like a fine hotel.' "'I think Stoddard House is a fine hotel, on a small scale, of course, and now I have a suggestion to offer for to-night.' She continued as she ate her dinner. Some of the regular guests here have a book club, which meets once a week. I seldom go to the meetings. I never seem to have time. But I thought I could take you to-night, and in that way you would get acquainted with some of these people. Though I don't suppose you'll find that person we're looking for among them. These aren't often book-lovers. But it will help me to get the people sorted out. And I am so at sea,' said Mary Louise. "'I think it is a fine idea.' "'Mrs. Hillard, what time does the club meet?' "'Seven-thirty. But we'll get to my room first, and you can copy down the names of all the guests and their room numbers.' "'Oh, that's great,' she cried, thankful to be getting at something definite to start with. As soon as Mrs. Hillard finished her dinner, she and Mary Louise took the elevator to the fourth floor and walked down the long corridor to the back of the hotel. Here was Mrs. Hillard's own private apartment, a cozy suite of three rooms and a bath. Mary Louise settled herself comfortably in an armchair and took out her notebook. "'Do you want the names of the maids?' asked Mrs. Hillard, as she picked up some papers from her desk. "'No, not yet,' replied the girl. "'You believe in their innocence, so I think I'd rather study the guests first.' Mrs. Hillard handed her a paper, a methodical list of bedrooms on the second and third floors, and Mary Louise copied it just as it was into her notebook. Second floor, room two hundred, Pauline Brooks, two hundred and two, May and Lucy Fletcher, two hundred and four, empty, two hundred and six, Mary Louise Gay, two hundred and eight, empty, two hundred and one, Mrs. B and B McGregor, two hundred and three, empty, two hundred and five, Ann Starling, two hundred and seven, empty, two hundred and nine, empty. Third floor, room three hundred, Miss Henrietta Stoddard, three hundred and two, Mrs. Weinberger, three hundred and four, Miss Hortense Weinberger, three hundred and six, Dorothy Semple, three hundred and eight, Miss Hastings, three hundred and one, Ruth and Evelyn Walder, three hundred and three, empty, three hundred and five, Mrs. Moyer, three hundred and seven, empty, three hundred and nine, Miss Violet Granger. You have a lot of empty rooms, haven't you, Mrs. Hillard? inquired Mary Louise when she had finished her copy. Yes, it's always dull at this time of year, and we never are very full. After all, it's rather expensive, with wages on the scale they are now. How much do you charge? Fourteen dollars a week, but that doesn't cover our expenses. No, I'm sure it doesn't. Everything is lovely. I didn't tell you how much I liked my room, and the food couldn't be better. Well, we have an income from the Stoddard estate, which helps to pay expenses, Mrs. Hillard explained. There's a woman here named Miss Henrietta Stoddard, observed Mary Louise, looking at her list. Is she any relation of the founder? Yes, she is her niece. Old Mrs. Stoddard provided in her will that Henrietta should be allowed to live here free all her life, as long as she was singled or a widow. How old a woman is she now? About forty-five, I should judge, and very bitter. She expected to inherit her aunt's money, and she even tried to break the will. She hasn't any money. I think she does odd jobs, like taking care of children and doing hand sewing for her spending money and her clothing. Remarked Mary Louise. Mrs. Hillard smiled. I know what you are thinking, and I kind of think so myself. That Miss Stoddard is the thief. But you'd never believe it to look at her. She's prim and proper and austere. You never can tell, said Mary Louise. No, that's not true. Well, you'll have a good chance to judge for yourself tonight. Miss Stoddard is the one who is in charge of the book club. There is a library fund in the endowment, and these women decide upon what to buy. Tell me which of these guests belong to the club, urge the girl. All the regular residents belong, except Miss Violet Granger. She is an artist. She draws for magazines and for an advertising firm, and she always keeps apart from the other guests. She is the one from whom the oil painting and the $50 were stolen. Mary Louise nodded and put a check beside Miss Granger's name. Now, she said, I ought to check the names of all the other people who have had valuables stolen. Who else was there? Well, as I told you, the hotel itself lost the silverware and the Chinese vase. Then there were four watches stolen, my own, Mrs. Weinberger's, and the two wild, wilder girls. By the way, they are lovely girls, Mary Louise. They've lived here a couple of years, and I know their families. I'm sure you're going to like them. And the final, at least, I hope it's the final, robbery, was the painting and the money from Miss Granger's room. But I have a feeling that isn't the end. And the guests are all nervous, too. It's hurting our business and making my own job seem uncertain. Mary Louise closed her notebook thoughtfully inside. I'll do the best I can, Mrs. Hillard, she promised solemnly. 10 minutes later, they took the elevator to the first floor, and Mrs. Hillard led the way into the library. It was a cheerful room with an open fireplace, and a number of comfortable chairs and built-in bookcases around the walls. Miss Henrietta Stoddard, a plain-looking woman with spectacles, sat at the table on one side with a pile of books and a notebook beside her. She was talking to an elderly woman and a younger one. Mrs. Hillard introduced Mary Louise. Mrs. Weinberger and Miss Weinberger, she said, and Mary Louise immediately placed them as the mother and daughter who lived in rooms 302 and 304. The daughter was complaining to Miss Stoddard. I don't see why we can't have some more exciting books, she said, something a little more youthful. Miss Stoddard drew the corners of her severe mouth together. We buy just what the club votes for, she replied, ictly. Because the younger members never come to put in their votes, and the younger woman petulantly. I asked the Walter girls to come to the meeting tonight, but of course they had dates. She turned eagerly to Mary Louise. You can put in a vote, Miss Gay, she exclaimed. Will you suggest something youthful? Mary Louise smiled. I shan't be here long enough to belong to the club, she answered. I'm just visiting Mrs. Hillard for the vacation.  Yes, a junior at Riverside High School. Never heard of it, returned Miss Weinberger, abruptly and scornfully. I'm afraid it's not famous like Yale or Hartward, remarked Mary Louise with a sly smile. Miss Weinberger kept on talking to the others in her complaining whining tone. Mary Louise disliked her intensely, but she didn't believe she would ever steal anything. What time is it? Demanded Miss Stoddard sharply. I don't know, my watch was stolen, you know, replied Mrs. Weinberger, looking accusingly at Mrs. Hillard, as if it were her fault. You never heard anything about those watches, did you? inquired Miss Stoddard. No, replied the manager, keeping her eyes away from Mary Louise. There was a night watchman that night. But he said he didn't see any burglar or hear any disturbance. The night watchman couldn't watch four watches, Mary Louise remarked facetiously. Yes, there were four stolen, agreed Mrs. Weinberger. I suppose Mrs. Hillard told you. Mary Louise flushed, she must be more careful in the future. I think that bleach blonde chorus girl took them, observed Miss Weinberger. She was here then and left the next day. That name of hers was probably assumed. Mary Green, too common. Mary Louise wanted to write this in her notebook, but caution bade her wait till the meeting was over. The door opened and an old lady came in, leaning on her cane. She was past 80, but very bright and cheerful, with beautiful gray hair and a charming smile. Mrs. Hillard sprang up and offered her the best chair in the room and introduced Mary Louise to her. Her name was Mrs. Moyer. Now the meeting began. The guests returned the books they had borrowed and discussed new ones to purchase. At half past nine, in maid brought in tea and cakes and the evening ended sociably. Thankful to Slipoff alone to write her observations in her notebook, Mary Louise went to her own room. End of chapter three. Chapter four of Mystery of the Secret Band by Edith LaVelle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. A midnight visitor.  What a lovely room it was.  It's dainty ice water jug and it's telephone. For that convenience especially she was thankful. She'd far rather have a telephone than a radio. Little did she realize how soon she was to find that instrument so useful. She opened her notebook at the page upon which she had written the guest's names and counted them. 14 people besides herself. And of that number she had met only five. Rather a slow beginning. If I only had Jane here, she'd know everybody in the place by now, she thought wistfully. Jane is clever but she does jump at conclusions. Maybe I'm better off alone. She glanced at the notebook again and resolved not to bother yet with the names of people she hadn't met. She'd concentrate instead upon the five that she did know. She began at the beginning with the girl with whom she had danced and eaten supper. Pauline Brooks couldn't be guilty, she decided, because she came to Stoddard House only a few days ago for the first time. After the first two robberies had taken place. So she's out. Now I'm not so sure about Miss Henrietta Stoddard. She might even believe she had a right to steal things because she was cheated out of her inheritance. Yes, I'll watch Miss Stoddard carefully. Next, those two Weinberger women. Hardly possible when the mother lost her own watch. But of course thieves sometimes pretend to have things stolen just to establish their innocence. The same way murderers often wound themselves for alibis. But just the same. I believe those women are honest. They're pretty well off too, to judge from their clothes and their jewelry. She came to the last person she had met. The old lady had come to the book club meeting with a cane, Mrs. Moyer. Mary Louise's face broke into a smile. Nobody in her right senses could suspect a person like that. That was all except the secretary, Miss Horton, whom she had met at the desk. Mary Louise closed the notebook and put it on the table beside her. That was enough for tonight. Now she'd try to get some sleep. She put up the light and opened the window. Snow still covered everything except the streets and the sidewalks and the moon shown over the roofs of the buildings beyond. Right now below her side, window was a fire escape, which made her feel somehow safe and secure. It was not nearly so quiet here as in Riverside. Automobile horns honked now and again and the sound of trolleys from the street in front was plainly heard. But Mary Louise was not worried about the noise and a few minutes after she was in bed she was sound asleep. How many hours later she was awakened by a dream about Margaret Detweiler. Mary Louise had no way of knowing for she had left her watch on the bureau. She thought she had found Margaret alone in an empty house, cold and starving to death. And she was trying to remember just what principles of first aid to apply. When she awoke and found it was only a dream. But something she realized instantly had awakened her. Something, somebody was in her room. Her first sensation was one of terror, a ghost, no, a gypsy perhaps, who would clap a gag over her mouth and bind her hand and foot. But before she uttered a sound she remembered where she was and why she was there. A delirious feeling of triumph stole over her. Making her believe that success was at hand for her and her slew thing. If this person were really the Stoddard House sneak thief Mary Louise could lie still and watch her. For the room was light enough, from the moon and the street lamps to show up the intruder quite plainly. Ever so cautiously without turning her head or making any kind of sound she rolled her eyes toward her bureau where she could sense the intruder to be. Her reward was immediate. She saw a short person in dark clothing standing there carefully picking up some object, my purse and my watch. Mary Louise thought grimly. The little engraved watch her father had given her last Christmas. The figure turned around and silently crept towards the door. But sudden swift dismay took possession of Mary Louise making her tremble with fear and disappointment. The thief was not a woman whom she could hope to identify as a guest at Stoddard House. He was a man. He turned to the key in the lock so quietly that only the tiniest click could be heard. Then just as softly he closed the door again and vanished into the hall. Mary Louise gasped audibly with both relief and disappointment. Relief that he was gone, disappointment that he was a common ordinary burglar whom she could not hope to catch. Nevertheless she meant to do what she could so she turned on her light and reached for the telephone beside her bed. In another moment she had told her story to the police and so perfect were their radio signals in less than five minutes one of their cars stood at the door of the hotel. Meanwhile Mary Louise had hastily thrown on a few clothes and run down the stairs to warn the night watchman. The halls were lighted all night as well as the lobby of the hotel. She did not see how the burglar could escape without attracting the watchman's notice. She found him quietly smoking a pipe on the doorstep. He said he had seen nobody. I think the burglar came in through the window from the fire escape, Mary Louise said. Don't see how he could, returned the man. I've been around there at the side for the last half hour. Nobody came along that alley. Baffled Mary Louise summoned Mrs. Hillard on the house phone and by the time she stepped out of the elevator the two policemen had arrived. The thief must be hiding somewhere in the building, concluded Mary Louise, waiting for a chance to slip away. We'll have to make a search, announced Mrs. Hillard. You guard the doorway and the stairway, Mike, she said to the watchman. One of your officers go around the first floor and see whether the windows are all securely locked in case the burglar escaped through one of them. Then the other officer can come with Miss Gay and me while we search the floors above. Immediately the plan was put into effect and the searchers began on the second floor, looking first in the corridors and closets and empty rooms, then knocking at the doors of the guest's rooms. Pauline Brook's door was the first they went to and here a light shone under the cracks. Sorry to disturb you, Miss Brooks, called Mrs. Hillard, but a sneak thief has gotten into the hotel and we want to find him. May we come in? Just a minute, replied the girl, until I put on my bathrobe, I was out late at a dance and I'm just undressing now. What time is it anyway? asked Mary Louise. You see, my watch was stolen. It's only a few minutes after one, replied the policeman. A moment later Pauline unlocked the door and the three people entered. The room was very untidy. Clothing had been flung about everywhere and two open suitcases occupied the chairs. Look in the closet, advised Mrs. Hillard. There's nobody there, answered Pauline. I've just been in it, but you might look under the bed. That's where men always hide in the bedroom farces. You wouldn't think this was a bedroom farce if you just lost your watch and your purse. Remarked Mary Louise sharply. I'm sorry, Mary Lou, apologized Pauline. You see, I didn't know that you were the victim. We've got to get along, interrupted the officer. There's nobody here, I'm sure of that. They passed on to the other rooms, waking up the guests when it was necessary, apologizing, explaining, and finding nobody. In only two of the rooms besides Pauline's, had they found lights burning. Miss Granger, the artist, was still working on some drawings she was making for a magazine. And Miss Henrietta Stoddard, who explained that she was such a poor sleeper, was reading a book. But both these women said that they had heard no disturbance. When the search was completed and the group returned to the first floor of the hotel, the watchman and the officer had nothing to report. The windows on the ground floor were all securely locked. The latter announced and the former said that no one had escaped by the front door or the fire escape. It's either an inside job or your young friend dreamed it, one of the policemen said to Mrs. Hillard. It couldn't be an inside job, returned the manager, for there isn't any man who lives in the hotel. And I didn't dream it, protested Mary Louise, because my watch and my purse are gone and my door was unlocked. I locked it myself when I went to bed last night. Well, we'll keep an eye on the building all night. Promise the policeman as he opened the door, let us know if you have any more trouble. When the men had gone, Mrs. Hillard persuaded Mary Louise to come to her apartment for the rest of the night. She had a couch bed in her sitting room, which she often used for her own guests. Mary Louise agreed, but it was a long while before she fell asleep again. She kept listening for sounds, imagining she heard footsteps in the hall or windows opening somewhere in the building. But at last she dozed off and slept until Mrs. Hillard's alarm awakened her the next morning. You had better go down to the dining room for your breakfast, Mary Louise, said the manager. I just have orange juice and coffee up here. If I go into the dining room, I am tempted to overeat and I put on weight. All right, agreed Mary Louise. I want to go to my room for fresh clothing anyway. I just grabbed these things last night in a hurry. Mrs. Hillard, what do you think of last night's occurrence? I don't know what to think. I was convinced that all our robberies before this were inside jobs, because our watchman was so careful. But now I don't know. Of course, this may be something entirely different. We'll see if anything happens tonight. You're sure it was a man, Mary Louise? Positive.  He had on a dark suit, sneakers too, for I couldn't hear him walk. Did he have a gun? I don't know, because I pretended to be asleep. So he didn't need to defend himself. He got out so quickly. Where could he have vanished to? Mrs.  I haven't the slightest idea, she said. Of course, he might have had an accomplice, mused Mary Louise.  Still, the watchman was keeping his eye on that. Mary Louise's tone became dreary. I guess I'm not much used to you, Mrs. Hillard. I don't think I ought to take the salary. You mean you want to go home, Mary Louise? Oh no, I wouldn't leave now for anything. But I mean I probably shan't be any help in finding a thief like that. So I ought to accept any pay. Don't worry about that, returned Mrs. Hillard, patting Mary Louise's arm affectionately. You just do the best you can. Nobody can do more. I'd really like it proved that none of our guests is the thief. I'd much rather find out that it was a common burglar. Reassured Mary Louise went to her own room and dressed. By the time she reached the dining room, the guests who held positions had already eaten their breakfasts and gone. And the others, who had nothing to do all day, had not yet put in an appearance. It was only a little after eight. And the, but the dining room was deserted. I wish I had somebody to talk to. She thought sadly she seated herself at a little table by a window. The sunlight streamed in through the dainty ruffled curtains. There were rose beds in the center of her table and a menu from which she could order anything she wanted. But Mary Louise was not happy. She felt baffled and lonely. She ordered grapefruit first. And just as she finished it, Mrs. Weinberger came into the room. She made her way straight to Mary Louise's table.  She asked. My daughter won't eat breakfast for fear of gaining a pound. And it's so lonesome eating all by yourself. Mary Louise smiled cordially. I think so too, Mrs. Weinberger, she replied. I'll be delighted to have you. Do you feel nervous after last night? It must have been terrible to be right in the room when the burglar got in. I was away when my watch was stolen. Tell me about it, Mrs. Weinberger, urged Mary Louise. I was over in Mrs. Myers's room, the woman explained, after she had given her order to the waitress. And my daughter went out of my room and couldn't remember whether she locked the door or not. Anyway, I discovered that my watch was gone when I was dressing for dinner. She sighed, it was very valuable, a present from my late husband. Mary Louise had an inspiration. I believe I'll visit some pawn shops today to ask about mine, she said. And I can inquire about yours at the same time, if you want me to, Mrs. Weinberger. Yes, indeed, but I'm afraid it is too late now. Mine was an old fashioned watch. We used to wear them pinned on our dresses with a brooch. Mine had seven diamonds on it in front and my initials EW in tiny pearls on the back. Did you advertise? Yes, of course, but nothing came of it. My daughter thinks that transient guest, the chorus girl named Mary Green, stole it. We tried to trace her, but we couldn't find her name with any of the theatrical companies in town at the time. She never came back here to Stoddard House? Oh, no. And were the other watches stolen the same day? Yes, Mrs. Hillards was taken during the supper hour, but she had laid it down on the desk so that was her own carelessness. But the Walter girls had taken theirs while they were asleep, just as yours was. What were theirs like? Playing gold wrist watches with their initials, R, W, and EW, their names are Ruth and Evelyn. Well, I'll do what I can, concluded Mary Louise, and now let's talk about something pleasant. So for the rest of the meal, she and Mrs. Weinberger discussed books and the current moving pictures. End of chapter four. Chapter five of Mystery of the Secret Band by Edith LaVelle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Another robbery. Mary Louise had three separate plans in view for the morning. First, she would visit as many pawn shops as possible in the vicinity and ask to see their displays of watches. Second, she meant to go to Strawbridge and Clothier's department store and find out whether Margaret DeWiler had worked there and why and when she had left. And third, she wanted to find some pretext to call on Miss Henrietta Stoddard in her own room and observe her closely. As she walked out of the dining room, she met Mrs. Hillard going towards her little office on the first floor. Could I see you for a moment, Mrs. Hillard? She inquired. Certainly, my dear, come into the office with me. Mary Louise followed her into the room, but she did not sit down. She knew how busy the hotel manager would be on Saturday morning. I have decided to visit some pawn shops, Mrs. Hillard. She said, I have my own watch to identify, and I got a pretty good description of Mrs. Weinberger's today. But I want you to tell me a little more about the other things that were stolen. The silverware had an ivy leaf pattern and the initials S-H for Stoddard House, engraved on it, replied the woman. The vase was an old-fashioned Chinese one of an odd size, with decorations in that peculiar red they so often use. I believe I can draw it better than I can describe it, but I feel sure you'd never find it in a pawn shop. Whoever stole that sold it to an antique dealer. However, she picked up her pencil and roughly sketched the vase for Mary Louise, giving her a good idea of its appearance. At the same time, she described the painting, which had been stolen from Miss Granger's room. In original by the American artist Whistler, Mary Louise wrote all these facts in her notebook and kept the drawing. That's fine, Mrs. Hillard, she said, as she opened the door. I'm going out now and I'll be back for lunch. Goodbye and good luck. Mary Louise went to her room and from the telephone book beside her bed, she listed the addresses of all the pawn shops in the neighborhood. This was going to be fun, she thought, at least if she didn't lose her nerve. She hesitated for a few minutes outside of the first shop she came to. The iron bars guarding the window, the three balls in the doorway, seemed rather forbidding, for Mary Louise had never been inside a pawn shop. I can say I want to buy a watch, she thought. I do, too. I certainly need one. But I'm afraid I'd rather have a brand-new Ingersoll than a gold one that has belonged to somebody else. Still, I don't have to tell the shopkeeper that. Hopefully she opened the door and went in. She had expected to find an old man with spectacles and a skull cap, the typical palm broker one sees in the moving pictures, but there was nothing different about this man behind the counter from any ordinary storekeeper. Good morning, miss, he said. What can I do for you today? I want to look at ladies' watches, replied Mary Louise steadily. The man nodded and indicated a glass case on the opposite side of the shop. Mary Louise examined its contents intently. The fact is, she said, my own watch was stolen. I thought maybe it might have been pawned. And I'd look around in the shops first before I buy one in the hope of finding it. Recently? Yes, last night, the man smiled. If it had been pawned last night or this morning, you wouldn't find it offered for sale yet. We have to hold all valuables until the time on their tickets expires.  Well, could you tell me whether any ladies' watches have been pawned here since midnight last night? Yes, we've taken in two, replied the man graciously. And I don't mind showing them to you. I'm not in league with any thieves. I'm an honest man. I'm sure of it, agreed Mary Louise instantly. But she was disappointed upon sight of the watches. Neither of them was hers, nor did either remotely resemble Mrs. Weinberger's or any of the other three stolen from Stoddard House. Thank you very much, she said finally. I think I'll look around a little more and ask about my own. And if I can't find it, I may come back and buy one of yours. Several of those you have are very pretty. Thoroughly satisfied with her interview, she walked down the street until she came to another shop. It was on the corner of an alley, and just as she approached the intersection, she noticed a woman in an old-fashioned brown suit coming out of the side door of the pawn shop. The woman glanced about furtively as if she did not care to be seen and caught Mary Louise's eyes. With a gasp of surprise, the girl recognized her immediately. It was Miss Henrietta Stoddard. Before Mary Louise could even nod to her, the woman had slipped across the street and around the corner, lost amid the Saturday morning crowd that was thronging the busy street. Mary Louise repressed a smile and entered the pawn shop by the front door. She repeated her former experience with this difference, however. She did not find the shopkeeper nearly so cordial or so willing to cooperate. Finally she asked point-blank what the woman in the brown suit had just found, I can't see that's any of your business, Miss, he replied disagreeably, but I will tell you that it wasn't a watch. Mary Louise wasn't sure that she believed him, but there was nothing that she could do without enlisting the help of her father. She visited four other shops without any success and finally decided to abandon the plan. It was too hopeless, too hit or miss to expect to find those watches by that kind of searching. Far better she concluded to concentrate on observing the actions of the people at Stoddard House, especially Miss Henrietta Stoddard herself. So she turned her steps to the big department store where she believed Margaret Detweiler had worked till last Christmas and inquired her way to the employment office. The store was brilliantly decorated for Christmas and crowds of late shoppers filled the aisles and the elevators so that it was not easy to reach her destination, nor was the employment manager's office empty. Even at this late date, applicants were evidently hoping for jobs and Mary Louise had to sit down and wait her turn. It was half an hour later that she found herself opposite the manager's desk. Mechanically, a clerk candid her an application to fill out. I don't want a position, Mary Louise said immediately. I want to see whether I can get any information about a girl named Margaret Detweiler who, I think, worked in your store up till last Christmas. Would it be too much trouble to look her up in your files? I know you're busy. Oh, that's all right, replied the manager pleasantly and she repeated the name to the clerk. You see, explained Mary Louise, Margaret Detweiler's grandparents haven't heard from her for a year and they're dreadfully worried. Margaret is all they have in the world. The clerk found the card immediately. Miss Detweiler did work here for six months last year, she stated, in the jewelry department and then she was dismissed for stealing. Repeated Mary Louise aghast at such news. Why, I can't believe it. Margaret was the most upright, honest girl at home. She came from the best people. How did it happen? I remember now, announced the employment manager, a pretty dark-eyed girl who was always dressed rather plainly. Yes, I was surprised too. But she had been ill, I believe and perhaps she wasn't quite herself. Maybe she had doctor's bills and so on. It was too bad, for if she had come to me I couldn't have helped her out with a loan. Was she sent to prison? Asked Mary Louise in a horse whisper. Oh, the disgrace of the thing, it would kill old Mrs. Detweiler if she ever found out. No, she wasn't. We found the stolen article in Miss Detweiler's shoe. At least one of the things she took, a link bracelet. We didn't recover the ring, but a wealthy woman, a customer who happened to be in the jewelry department at the time, evidently felt sorry for Miss Detweiler and offered to pay for the ring. We didn't let her, but of course we had to dismiss the girl. You have any idea where Margaret went or what she did? Only this woman, her name was Mrs. Ferguson, I remember, and she lived at the Benjamin Franklin Hotel, promised Miss Detweiler a job, so perhaps everything is all right now. I hope so, exclaimed Mary Louise fervently and thanking the woman profusely she left the office and the store. But she had her misgivings. If everything turned out all right, why hadn't Margaret written to her grandparents? Who was this Mrs. Ferguson? And why had she done this kindness for an unknown girl? Mary Louise meant to find out if she could. She inquired her way to the Benjamin Franklin Hotel and asked at the desk for Mrs. Ferguson, but she was informed that no such person lived there. Would you have last year's register? She asked it timidly. She hated to put everybody to so much trouble. The clerk smiled, nobody could resist Mary Louise. I'll get it for you, he said. After a good deal of searching, he found a Mrs. H.R. Ferguson registered at the hotel on the 23rd of the previous December with only the indefinite address of Chicago, Illinois after her name. Margaret Detweiler did not appear in the book at all. Evidently, she had never stayed at the Benjamin Franklin Hotel. With a sigh of disappointment, Mary Louise thanked the clerk and left. Nothing had been gained by that visit. It must be lunchtime. She decided after glancing in vain at her wrist where she was accustomed to wear her watch. I guess I'll go back to the house. The minute she entered the door of Stoddard House, the most terrible commotion greeted her. A woman's shriek rang through the air. Someone cried out, catch her, she's fainted. The elevator doors slammed and people appeared from everywhere in wild confusion. Mary Louise dashed through the door to the desk just in time to see Mrs. McGregor, the wealthy widow who lived in room 201, dropped down on the bench beside the elevator. Women pressed all around her prostrate figure. Guests, maids, Mrs. Hillard, and the secretary, Miss Horton, who offered a glass of water to the unconscious woman. But nobody seemed to know what it was all about. Presently Mrs. McGregor opened her eyes and accepted a sip of the water. Then she glared accusingly at Mrs. Hillard. I've been robbed! She cried, $500 on a pair of diamond ear rings. End of chapter five. Chapter six of Mystery of the Secret Band by Edith Lavelle. This leap of box recording is in the public domain. Saturday afternoon. Do you feel any better now, Mrs. McGregor? Inquired Mrs. Hillard as the stricken woman sat upright on the bench. Better! She repeated angrily. I'll never feel better till I get my money back again. Mary Louise repressed a smile. McGregor was a Scotch name. Now tell us how it happened, urged Mrs. Hillard. When did you first miss the money? Just a few minutes ago when I came out of my bath. She became hysterical again. Locked the doors, she cried. Search everybody, call the police! Mary Louise caught Mrs. Hillard's eye. Shall I? She asked. Mrs. Hillard nodded and tell the janitor to lock the doors and station himself at the front to let the guests in who come home. For the girls will be coming into lunch from work. Today's a half holiday. By the time Mary Louise had returned, she found the crowd somewhat dispersed. The servants had gone back to their work, but several new arrivals had joined Mrs. Hillard and Mrs. McGregor. The two Walder girls, about whom Mary Louise had heard so much, were there and Mrs. Hillard introduced them. They were both very attractive, very much the same type as Mary Louise's own friends in Riverside. Much more real, she thought, than Pauline Brooks with her vivid makeup and her boastful talk. That is a great deal of money to keep in your room, Mrs. McGregor, Evelyn Walder said, especially after all the robberies we've been having at Stoddard House. That's just it. It was just on account of these terrible goings on that I took the money and the diamonds from a little safe I have and got them ready to put into the bank. Somebody was too quick for me, but I'm pretty sure I know who it was, Ida, the chambermaid. Oh no, protested Mrs. Hillard. Ida has been with me two years and I know she's honest. Send for her, commanded Mrs. McGregor. While they were waiting for the girl to appear, Mrs. McGregor explained just what had happened. I had the money and the diamonds in a bag on my bureau, she said. I was running the water in my bathroom when I heard a knock at the door. I unlocked it and Ida came in with clean towels and a fresh bureau cover. While she was fixing the bureau cover, I hurried back to the bathroom, put the towels away and turned off the water. My bath salts fell out of the closet when I opened the door to put the towels away. So I was delayed two or three minutes, gathering them up. I heard Ida go out and close the door behind her and I got into my bath. When I came back into the bedroom, my bag was gone. But you didn't scream immediately, observed Mrs. Hillard. You must have waited to dress. I had dressed in the bathroom before I knew the bag was stolen. Wasn't anybody else in your room all morning, Mrs. McGrager? Mary Louise couldn't help asking. Only Miss Doddard, she had gone out to buy me some thread. She does my mending for me and she stopped in on her return from the store and took some of my lingerie to her room. At this moment, the chambermaid, a girl of about 22, approached the group. Either she knew nothing about the robbery or else she was a splendid actress before she appeared entirely unconcerned. You wanted me, Mrs. Hillard? She inquired. Listen to the innocent baby, mocked Mrs. McGrager scornfully. Ida looked puzzled and Mrs. Hillard briefly explained the situation. The girl denied the whole thing immediately. There wasn't any bag on the bureau, Mrs. McGrager, she said. I know because I changed the cover. Maybe it wasn't on the bureau, admitted Mrs. McGrager, but it was somewhere in the room. You're going to be searched. The girl looked imploringly at Mrs. Hillard, but the latter could not refuse to grant Mrs. McGrager's demand. I can prove I didn't take any bag, said Ida, by Miss Brooks. I went right into her room next and made her bed. She can tell you I did. She was just going out. I'm sure she'll remember. Is Miss Brooks here? I think she left the hotel about 15 minutes ago, stated Miss Horton, the secretary, before Mrs. McGrager screened. Well, we can ask her when she comes back, said Mrs. Hillard. Where were you, Ida, when I sent for you? Still in Miss Brooks' room, replied the girl tearfully, I was running the vacuum cleaner, so I never heard the disturbance. Mrs. Hillard turned to Mrs. McGrager. If Ida did steal your bag, she said she would have to have it concealed on her person. Mary Louise, you take Ida to my apartment and have her undress and prove that she isn't hiding anything. Without a word, the two girls did as they were told and took the elevator to the fourth floor. Mary Louise felt dreadfully sorry for her companion, who by this time was shaking and sobbing. She put her arm through Ida's as they entered Mrs. Hillard's apartment. You know, Ida, she said, if you did this, it would be lots easier for you if you don't up now. The police are bound to find out anyhow sooner or later. But I didn't miss, protested the other girl. I never stole anything in my life. I was brought up different. I'm a good girl and my mother would die if she knew I was even accused of stealing. Instinctively, Mary Louise believed her. Nevertheless, she had to do as she was told and she carefully made the search, but she found nothing. Satisfied, she took the girl back to Mrs. Hillard. The police had already arrived and more of the hotel guests had returned. Miss Stoddard was sitting beside Mrs. McGrager and Mary Louise longed to suggest that she or rather her room be searched. However, the police attended to that. One officer took each floor and everybody's room was systematically gone through, but the valuable bag could not be found. The doors of the hotel were unlocked and everybody was allowed to go in and out again as she pleased. Mary Louise watched eagerly for Pauline Brooks, hoping that she would prove Ida's alibi, but Miss Brooks did not return. Undoubtedly, she had a date somewhere. A lively girl like Pauline could not imagine wasting her Saturday afternoon on females, as she would call the guests at Stoddard House. The dining room doors were thrown open and Mary Louise and Mrs. Hillard went into their lunch together. The older woman seems dreadfully depressed. Mrs. McGrager is leaving this afternoon, she said, and the Weinburgers will go tomorrow. If this keeps up, the hotel will be empty in another week and I'll lose my position. Oh, I hope not, replied Mary Louise. Everybody can't leave because things are stolen for there are robberies everywhere. The big hotels all employ private detectives and yet I've read that an awful lot of things are taken just the same. Some people make their living just by robbing hotel guests, so no matter where people go, they run a risk, even in homes of their own. Yes, that's true, but Stoddard House has been particularly unlucky and you know things like this get around. I'm going to do my best to find out who is the guilty person, Mary Louise assured her. And this morning's robbery ought to narrow down my suspects to those who were at the house at the time, at least if you can help me by telling me who they are. Yes, I think I can. Besides Mrs. McGrager and myself, there were only Miss Stoddard, the two Weinburgers, Mrs. Moyer and Miss Brooks. All the rest of the guests had positions and were away at work. Mary Louise took her notebook and checked off the list. That does make it easier unless one of the help is guilty. They were all here at the time, but of course the thief may be the same man who stole my watch. Yes, that's possible, especially if he is an accomplice of one of the guests, of Miss Stoddard, for instance. Yes, I've been thinking about her. She was in Mrs. McGrager's room, you know, but Mary Louise did not tell Mrs. Hillard about seeing Miss Stoddard sneaking out of the pawn shop. You better go to a movie this afternoon, Mary Louise, and forget all about it for the time being, advised the manager. Shant I ask the Walder girls to take you along? They usually go to a show. No thanks, Mrs. Hillard. It's very thoughtful of you, but I want to go back to the department store and make another inquiry about the lost girl I'm trying to trace. I'd like a chance to talk to Miss Stoddard, too, and to Pauline Brooks when she comes back. Maybe she saw the thief if she came out of her room when Ida said she did. Well, do as you like. Only don't worry too much, dear. Mary Louise finished her lunch and went out into the open air again. Now that she was becoming a little more familiar with the city, she thought she would like to walk along Chestnut and Walnut streets to have a look at the big hotels and the expensive shops. The downtown district was thronged with people shopping, going to matinees, hurrying home for their weekend holiday. The confusion was overwhelming after the quiet of Riverside, but Mary Louise enjoyed the excitement. It would be something to write home about. At Broad and Walnut streets, she stopped to admire the Ritz Hotel, a tall imposing building of white stone, where Pauline Brooks had said that her aunt usually stayed when she was visiting Philadelphia. What fun it would be to have lunch in or tea there someday. If only she had somebody to go with. Perhaps Pauline would take her if she asked her. Mary Louise wanted to be able to tell the Riverside girls about it. Half a block farther on, she saw Pauline herself coming towards her, accompanied by a stout, stylishly dressed woman and a very blonde girl of her own age. That must be Pauline's aunt. Mary Louise thought, noticing what a hard, unpleasant face the woman had, how unattractive she was in spite of her elegant clothes. No wonder Pauline doesn't want to live with her. Hello Pauline, she said brightly. It was wonderful to meet somebody she knew in this big, strange city. Pauline, who had not noticed Mary Louise, looked up in surprise.  Mary Louise laughed and stood still. We've had all sorts of excitement at Stoddard House, Pauline. I want to tell you about it. The woman and the blonde girl continued to walk on, but Pauline stopped for a moment. You mean besides last night? She asked, yes, another robbery, Mrs. McGregor. Tell me a supper time, Emmylou, interrupted Pauline. These people are in a hurry, I've got to go. Mary Louise was disappointed. She did so want to ask Pauline whether Ida's story were true. Now she'd have to wait. She continued her walk down Walnut Street until she came to nine. Then she turned up to Market Street and entered the department store, where she had made the inquiries that morning concerning Margaret Detweiler. There were not so many people visiting the employment manager that afternoon, as in the morning. Perhaps everybody thought Saturday afternoon a poor time to look for a job. Mary Louise was thankful for this and apologized profusely for taking the busy woman's time again. I couldn't find anybody by the name of Ferguson at the Benjamin Franklin Hotel now, she said. Or any trace of Margaret Detweiler at all there. But after I left the hotel, it occurred to me that if you would give me the address that Margaret had while she was working here, I might make inquiries at the boarding house or wherever it was that she lived. They might know something. Do you think that would be too much trouble? No trouble at all, replied the woman pleasantly. She told the clerk to look in the files again. The address was a number on Pine Street and Mary Louise asked where the street was located as she copied it down in her notebook. Not far away, was the reply. You can easily walk there in a few minutes. She gave Mary Louise explicit directions. It was a shabby red brick house in a poor but respectable neighborhood. Colored woman answered Mary Louise's ring. Nothing today, said the woman instantly without giving Mary Louise a chance to speak first. I'm not selling anything, replied the girl laughing. I wanted to ask the landlady here about a girl named Margaret Detweiler who used to live here. Could you ask her to spare me a minute or two? All right, agreed the servant come in. She ushered Mary Louise into a niche but gloomy parlor and in a couple of minutes the landlady appeared. I understand you want to ask me about Miss Detweiler, she inquired. Yes, answered Mary Louise. I am trying to find her for her grandparents. The employment manager of the department store said she lived here, is that correct? Yes, it is. Miss Detweiler lived here for about five months. She seemed like a nice girl with no bad habits.  Then all of a sudden she slipped away without paying her bill and I never saw her again. She owes you money? Demanded Mary Louise. No, she don't now. A couple of weeks after she left she sent it to me in a registered letter. So where's Square now? Didn't she send her address? No, she didn't. Where was the letter postmarked? Center Square, a little town up the state. Do you still have the envelope? No, I haven't, but I remember the name because I used to know folks at Center Square. Didn't Margaret say anything in her letter about how she was getting on or what she was doing? Asked Mary Louise. There wasn't any letter, just a folded piece of paper. Well, that's too bad and what was the date? Sometime in January, let's see. Must have been near the start of the month for I remember I used some of that money to buy my grandson a birthday present and his birthday's on the 7th. Well, I thank you very much for what you have told me, concluded Mary Louise. Maybe it will lead to something. I'll go to Center Square and make inquiries. You see, she explained, Margaret Deatwiler's grandparents are very unhappy because they haven't heard from her and I want to do all in my power to find her. Margaret is all they have and they love her dearly. The woman's eyes filled with tears. And may you have good luck, my dear child, she said. End of Chapter Six. Chapter Seven of Mystery of the Secret Band by Edith LaVelle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Abandoned House. When Mary Louise returned to the hotel, she found everything quiet. She went immediately to the fourth floor. Mrs. Hillard was in her sitting room, knitting and listening to the radio. Has anything happened since I left? Asked the girly, girly. No, replied the manager, except that another guest has departed. Your friend, Pauline Brooks, came back, packed her bag, paid her bill and left. Of course, she was only a transient anyway, but the hotel is so empty that I was hoping she would stay a while. I met her on the street with her aunt, Mary Louise said, but she didn't have time to talk to me. Did you question her about Edith's story? Yes, and she said it was true that Edith did come into her room to make the bed at that time because she, Miss Brooks, had slept late. But she did not know how long the maid had stayed because she left the hotel before Mrs. McGregor discovered her loss and screamed. So it is possible that Edith went back into Mrs. McGregor's room. Personally, I believe the girl is innocent, stated Mary Louise. So do I. As I said, she has been with me two years and I have always found her absolutely trustworthy. It was probably a sneak thief. The police are on the lookout for somebody like that. Did you talk to Miss Stoddard? No, I didn't. She went out this afternoon. She'll bear watching, remarked Mary Louise. I think so too, agreed the other. Now tell me what you did with yourself this afternoon. Mary Louise related the story of her visit to Margaret Detweiler's former boarding house and the scant information she had obtained. Is Central Square far away? She asked. Oh, a couple hours drive, if you have a car. But do you really think it would do you any good to go there? The girl was probably only passing through and stopped at the post office to mail her letter to the landlady. Yes, I'm afraid that is all there was to it. But I could at least make inquiries. And after all, it's the only clue I have. I'd never be satisfied if I didn't do the very best I could to find Margaret for her grandparents. Mary Louise stayed a little longer with Mrs. Hillard. Then she went to her own room to dress for dinner. But suddenly she was terribly homesick. Jane and the boys would be coasting all afternoon, she knew, for there would still be plenty of snow left in the country. And there was a dance tonight at another friend's. Max would be coming for her in his runabout. She would be wearing her blue silk dress and her eyes filled with tears. Wasn't she just being terribly foolish to stay here in Philadelphia, missing all those good times? And for what? There wasn't a chance in the world that she'd discover the thief when even the police were unsuccessful. But I'll never learn to be a detective until I try and learn to accept failures. She told herself sternly. And she knew that, all things considered, she had not been foolish. It might be hard at the time to give up all the fun, but in the long run it would be worth it. She ought to be thanking her lucky stars for the chance. Somewhat reassured, she dressed and went downstairs to the reception room where the radio was playing. She found the two Walter girls, whom she had met at noontime when Mrs. McGregor raised to the commotion. Mary Louise greeted them cordially. It's beginning to rain, said Evelyn Walder. So Sis and I thought we'd stay in tonight and try to get up a game of bridge. Do you play Mary Lou? Yes, indeed, replied Mary Louise. I love it. Whom shall we get for a fourth, Mrs. Hillard? Mrs. Hillard doesn't like to play. And besides, she has to get up and answer the telephone so much that she usually just knits in the evenings. Maybe we can get one of the flexure girls. No, I heard Lucy said that they had a date. Returned Ruth Walder. Mary Louise looked disappointed. She was so anxious to meet all the guests at Stoddard House. She had an inspiration, however. How about Miss Stoddard? She asked. Does she play? The other two girls looked at Mary Louise in amazement. Sure, she plays bridge, replied Evelyn, but we don't want her.  Mary Louise smiled. She thought so too. Mrs. Weinberger is a nice. Even if she is a lot older than we are, observed Ruth, and she loves to play because her daughter goes out every Saturday night with her boyfriend, I think. The others agreed to the suggestion and Mrs. Weinberger accepted the invitation immediately. So the evening passed pleasantly, but Mary Louise did not feel that she had learned anything of value to her job. The party broke up about 1030. Mary Louise went to her room and took out her notebook. It's getting so confusing, she mused. So many things stolen, so many people involved. These two robberies, since I came, the one in my room last night and Mrs. McGregor's today, make five and all. I wonder if they could all have been done by the same person. Maybe, maybe it's a secret band of some kind with Miss Henrietta Stoddard as its leader. Her one determination when she awakened the next morning was to have a talk with Miss Stoddard. Accordingly, after breakfast, she asked Mrs. Hillard how that could best be arranged. Miss Stoddard always goes to Christ Church, was the reply. Why couldn't you plan to go with her? That is a wonderful idea, Mrs. Hillard. I always did want to visit Christ Church. We read so much about it in history. I'll ask her to take you with her, offered the manager, when she comes out of the dining room. The arrangement was easily made, and a couple of hours later, Mary Louise met Miss Stoddard in the lobby of the hotel. Today, the spinster was not wearing the shabby brown suit. Indeed, she looked quite neat and stylish in a dark blue coat trimmed with fur. The rain had washed most of the snow away, and the sun was shining, so both Mary Louise and Miss Stoddard thought it would be pleasant to walk down to second and market streets, where the historic church was situated. For a while, they talked of its significance in Colonial Philadelphia, and Miss Stoddard promised to show Mary Louise the pew in which George Washington and his family had worshiped. It was Miss Stoddard, however, who gave the conversation a personal turn. You saw me come out of that ponchop yesterday, didn't you, Miss Gay? She inquired, I wanted to ask you not to say anything about my visit to Mrs. Hillard, or to any of the other guests. But it is nothing to be ashamed of, Miss Stoddard, protested Mary Louise lots of people pawn things. I know, but not women of my type usually. I'm rather hard-pressed for money now, so I sold an old brooch of my mother's. It didn't bring much. Mary Louise nodded and looked at her companion, but she could not tell whether she were telling the truth or not. Then continued Miss Stoddard, my visit might look suspicious to some people after all these robberies at the hotel. Yes, I suppose that's true. But it really proves my innocence, because if I had taken all that money of Mrs. McGregor's, I shouldn't be rushing to a ponchop now to get a little more. That was a good point. Mary Louise had not thought of it before. Who do you think did all the stealing, Miss Stoddard? She asked point blank. The Weinberger girl. I suppose you'd call her a woman, but she seems like just a girl to me. She and the young man she goes with are in league together. I think he's out of work and the two of them have been planning to get married, so they've been stealing right and left. Even her own mother's watch? Yes, even that. Mary Louise was silent. It was an entirely new idea to her. Yet it was possible. The Weinberger's had been the Stoddard house ever since the things began to be stolen. If Hortense Weinberger were going to marry this young man of hers, she could use the silverware, the vase, and the painting in her new house or apartment. The watches could be pawned, and the money would be enough to keep the young couple for a while. Yes, the explanation was logical. I have reason to believe that this couple Willie Lope to-night announced to Miss Stoddard. Mary Louise's eyes opened wide with excitement. If that man is the thief, and if I can see him to identify him, she said, maybe that will solve the mystery. You remember Miss Stoddard?  He was short and of slight build, but of course I couldn't see his face. Is Miss Weinberger's friend like that? I don't know, I never saw him. But I overheard a phone call, and Hortense Weinberger said she'd slip out about 11 tonight. Could you be watching them? Yes, yes, cried Mary Louise joyfully. Oh, suppose it were true. And she could identify the man. Wouldn't it be too wonderful? I think you're terribly clever, Miss Stoddard, she said. If you really have found the solution, it will mean so much to Mrs. Hillard. She's been worried to death. They had been so interested in their conversation that they did not realize how near they were to the church. In another minute, they were walking reverently into the old building, and for the next hour and a half, robberies and mysteries were forgotten in the solemn beauty of the service. Nor did they refer to the subject afterwards, but walked back to the hotel, talking about historic Philadelphia. Mary Louise went to her room after dinner and wrote down everything Miss Stoddard had said about Hortense Weinberger. The explanation was so plausible that she could hardly wait for the evening to come, with her chance to identify her own particular burglar. If he were the man who had entered her room, the whole thing would be solved and she could go home for Christmas. Oh, how glad she was that she had had that talk with Miss Stoddard. In the midst of her daydreams, a knock sounded at the door. A maid handed her a card with the name, Max Miller, engraved on it. Mary Louise let out a wild whoop of joy and, not waiting to explain, dashed past the maid and down the steps to the lobby. And there he was, good old Max, looking handsomer than ever. Mary Louise could have hugged him in her delight. Max, you angel, she cried. How did you know I'd be so glad to see you? Because I knew how glad I'd be to see you, he replied, still holding onto her hand. Mary Louise withdrew it laughingly. Women talk, she reminded him, glancing about her. Okay, he grinned, how are you? Solved your mystery yet? Oh no, I've had my own watch and $5 stolen, that's all. And you call this a good time? Well, Mary Lou, you certainly can take it. But haven't you had enough, little girl? Please, come home with me. Mary Louise's eyes flashed in anger. Is that what you came here for, Max Miller? She demanded. No, oh no, I didn't expect you'd come home. I just wanted to see you, so I drove down. Started early this morning. Now let's go places and do things. Where, you can't do much in Philadelphia on Sunday. Anywhere, we can take a drive and have our supper at some nice place away from this hen house. Now, Max, get your coat and hat, that's a good girl.  And if you expect to start back tonight, I don't. I'm staying over at the YM for a couple of days so I can watch you. Now don't get excited, I have your parents' consent. In fact, they thought it was a bully idea. You may be a wonderful detective, Mary Lou, but just the same, you're a darned pretty girl. And pretty girl is alone in strange cities. I have Mrs. Hillard, she reminded him. Yes, I know, that's what makes it look all right. But it doesn't make you safe, just the same. You could easily be kidnapped. You're not going to follow me everywhere I go, are you? She asked in concern. No, just keep an eye on you for a couple of days and maybe help you a bit. With the car at your disposal, you may be able to clear up things quicker and go home in time for the senior prom. That's my little scheme in a nutshell. It will be wonderful, agreed Mary Louise. I'll admit there have been moments when I've been homesick, Max. Her eyes brightened. I know where I want to go this afternoon to center square. Where's that? I don't know, out in the country somewhere. You can look it up on your map. Okay, I'm ready, Mary Lou. The car is out the door. Run up, get your hat and coat. Wrap up warmly. It's a lot warmer and most of the snow's gone, but you know my runabout isn't like a heated limousine. In five minutes she was back again, looking very pretty in her squirrel coat, with its matching toke. Leaving word for Mrs. Hillard that she would not be back for supper, she got into the car with Max. As the couple started, Mary Louise explained why she wanted to go to center square, that her project had nothing to do with the thefts at the hotel, but was the hope of tracing Margaret Detweiler. And she told her companion the facts she had learned about the girl. I am even more anxious to find her than to solve the mystery at Stoddard House, she said. Because of those two old people, it's just too dreadful for them. Max nodded. He knew the Detweilers and felt extremely sorry for them. Everybody in Riverside liked them and pitted them in their distress. I just can't bear to tell them that Margaret was dismissed from the department store for stealing. She added. I wouldn't, advised Max. Better tell them nothing at all than that. It wouldn't help any and would only cause them unhappiness. Mary Louise asked about everything that had happened at Riverside since she had left. Had been only two days, but it seemed like an age. Max described to the party the night before. But it was a poor affair without Mary Lou according to his idea. And he had left early so he could get off at daybreak this morning. The day was clear and warm and except for slush on the roads, the drive was delightful. The young people were happy to be together again and enjoyed every minute of it. It was already dusk of the short winter day when they arrived at Central Square and stopped at the country hotel. We're going to want dinner in an hour or so, Max told the clerk. But first we want to see whether we can locate a girl who was here late last winter. Did a young woman named Margaret Detweiler ever register here? The clerk obligingly looked through his book but the name was not there. She was tall and slender and very dark, said Mary Louise, has wavy hair and an olive complexion. The clerk shook his head. No, I don't remember seeing anybody like that around. Not many strangers come here except automobile parties sometimes stopping to eat. Are there any empty houses she might have rented? Was Mary Louise's next question. None rented as I know of. There's some abandoned houses around, places where people sometimes come just for the summer. Where? The clerk gave the directions. Now one more question. Where does the postmaster live? For of course the post office is closed on Sunday. Sure, it's closed but the postmaster lives right over top of it, across the street away from here. Mary Louise and Max went there next and were fortunate enough to find the man at home. When Mary Louise told him about the registered letter and described the girl, he said he believed he did remember. So few people came to the little country town. Still fewer registered letters but Margaret hadn't stopped in a car, he thought. She had walked from somewhere. No, he was positive she hadn't been boarding with any of the folks around or he'd have heard of it. Well, that was something definite. Maybe she was hiding in one of those empty houses the clerk had spoken of, to escape from the police. Max turned his car off the main highway into a little dirt road, almost impassable with its slush and snow. He stopped in front of the first empty house which the clerk had described. It was dark and forlorn. There would be some sort of light if anybody were living there, observed Max. You can't tell, replied Mary Louise. If Margaret were hiding, she'd be careful about lights. Let's get out and look. Why should she hide? Didn't you tell me the employment manager promised not to send her to jail? Yes, but you don't know what crimes she's committed since. If she were behaving herself, wouldn't she have written to her grandparents?  They waited through slush over their shoe tops but could see no signs of any life. Mary Louise decided to try another house. It's a wild theory, Mary Lou, but you're the doctor. I agreed, Max. So long as my bus will run, I'm game.  I don't know what I'd do without you. Men are helpful sometimes, aren't they? I guess they're absolutely necessary, replied Mary Louise modestly. I never seem to be able to get along without them. That's the proper attitude for a girl, he answered gaily.  It was situated at the top of a steep incline and almost completely surrounded by trees. When you climb that hill, Max, she asked, I can try if you think there's any use, he replied. It was a difficult task for the driveway was so covered with slush that it was hard to tell which was road and which was field. But Max made it in low gear and they came to a stop in front of a barn under a big tree. The house was shabby and unpainted. Its windows were covered with boards and its heavy doors without glass. Mary Louise shuddered, it reminded her of dark cedars. Max turned off the motor and jumped out of the car. Nobody home, I guess, he announced. From her seat in the car, Mary Louise stared at the house, peering into the strip of glass above the boards on the windows. She thought she saw a flicker of light as if a candle were burning. Yes, she was sure of it and a face appeared at the window. Two frightened eyes looked right into hers. A second later another face appeared, more plainly than the first. For this person evidently had hold of the candle. The first face had vanished and Mary Louise saw only that of an exceedingly ugly woman, someone who looked somehow familiar. That very instant the tiny light went out and at the same moment Mary Louise sank unconscious in her seat. A stone hurled from the tree above her had hit her right on the head. End of chapter seven. Chapter eight of Mystery of the Secret Band by Edith Lavelle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Knocked out. Max, who was standing on the ground nearby, heard the heavy thud of the stone as it hit the floor of the car. Turning about sharply, he saw Mary Louise slumped in her seat, unconscious from the below. He flung open the door and jumped in beside her. Mary Lou, Mary Lou, are you alive? He cried desperately. The girl did not answer. Help, help! He shrieked at the top of his lungs. A mocking laugh sounded from the tree above. Max looked up, but in the darkness he could see no one. How he wished he had his flashlight, but it was behind in the rumble seat and he daren't waste a minute. He must get Mary Lou to a doctor with all possible speed. Starting his engine immediately, for there was no reply to his call for help. He circled around the tree and crept cautiously down the slippery hill, praying as he had never prayed before. Oh, suppose Mary Lou were dead. With as much speed as he dared put on, he drove back to the center square hotel. As he came to a stop, he felt a little movement beside him and Mary Louise raised her head and opened her eyes. Where are we, Max? She asked. What happened? Oh, my darling! He cried, flinging his arm around her shoulders. You are alive! The girl managed a feeble laugh. Of course I am. My head hurts dreadfully, though. What happened? You were hit by a stone. See it there on the floor? From that tree we were parked under. It knocked you out. Now can you manage to walk up to the hotel or shall I carry you? I can walk. She replied, taking his arm. In the light of the hotel doorway, Max saw the blood running down her neck. He wiped it with his handkerchief. Can we have a doctor immediately? He asked the hotel clerk the moment they were inside the door. Yes, there's one in the dining room now, eating his dinner. I'll call him in accident. Max explained the strange happening at the empty house, but the clerk said he did not know anything about the place. He had not heard of any gangsters in these parts. The doctor came immediately and dressed Mary Louise's head. The cut was not serious. He assured her. It was not in a vital place. When it was washed and bandaged, she was able to eat her dinner with enjoyment. Maybe that first person I saw was Margaret DeWiler, she said. I wish I could stay here all night and go investigate tomorrow, but mother wouldn't approve of it. I should say not, thundered Max. I am taking you back to Mrs. Hillard tonight and I think you had better go home to Riverside tomorrow. Indeed I won't, Max, and that reminds me. I have to be at the hotel tonight at 11 o'clock. I want to spy on an allotment. Elopement? What next? Well, one of the guests, a mistoddered, who happens to be a niece of the founder of Stoddard House, thinks another guest is eloping tonight. She thinks this couple are responsible for all the robberies at the hotel. You know it was a man who entered my room and stole my watch, so I hoped maybe I could identify this fellow as the burglar. If I could, the mystery would be solved. And you could go home? Yes, unless I could find out something more about Margaret Delweiler. But I wouldn't stay here just on purpose for that. I'd go home and see what I could do from there with Dad's help. What time is it now? I wonder, asked Max. We must get back without fail. I don't know, replied Mary Louise regretfully. I haven't any watch. I'm going to buy you one for Christmas. If I get a check from Dad, announced Max. Of course, it will be late, but I'll give you your other present first so you wouldn't mind that, would you, Mary Lou? You'll do nothing of the sort, protested the girl. I couldn't accept it. If you get a check from your father to buy something for yourself, I'll get an Ingersoll tomorrow, when I'm in town. Now, what time is it? It's half past eight. If you feel able, I think we'd better go along because I don't dare drive too fast on these slippery roads at night. I'm all right. I only have a headache now, so let's get going. Max paid the bill and they were off. Now, what will your plans be for tomorrow? He inquired, as they wrote along. I'd like to come out here and visit that empty house with a policeman, she replied. If it's possible, I will. But of course, I have to see what turns up at the hotel. That is my real job. I'm being paid for it. And my father and Mrs. Hillard are counting on me to do my best. I wouldn't care if you never saw center square again, muttered Max resentfully. Still, it would be great to catch the guy who threw that rock at you. And find out whether the girl really was Margaret DeWiler. Yes, and I'd like to see that ugly woman again. I've seen her face before somewhere, but I can't place her. You don't forget a face like that. There's something crooked about their hiding in that house, remarked Max. Yes, of course. Well, to continue with my plans, I'll see what develops tonight. If there really isn't allotment, I'll try to identify that man. If he isn't anything like my burglar, I'll believe that Miss Stoddard is guilty herself, and that she just made the whole story up to throw suspicion away from herself. Max regarded her admiringly.  I do think you'll make a swell detective. Thanks, Max, but I'm afraid there's nothing clever about that. It's just using common sense. Well, the good detectives say that's the most important thing, not to let anything escape their notice and to use common sense all the time. They talked of other things for a while, of school and dances and basketball. Finally they reached Stoddard House, a little after 10 o'clock. Oh, I do hope we're in time, exclaimed Mary Louise. They found the hotel almost deserted. Mrs. Hillard was sitting in a chair knitting. Nobody else was around. Did you have a good time, dear? She asked, after Max had been introduced to her. In exciting time, replied the young man, Mary Lou was hit on the head with a stone and knocked out. But detectives have to expect that sort of thing, I suppose. Shh, warned the girl. Nobody except Mrs. Hillard is supposed to know I'm acting as detective. I didn't know that, apologized Max in the tone of Joe Penner. Mrs. Hillard looked troubled. Tell me what happened, she urged. Briefly, Mary Louise related the story and the good woman was relieved to hear that the blow was not serious. She was thankful too, that the job at Stoddard House had not been responsible for it. Are the Weinburgers still here? Was Mary Louise's next question? Mrs. Weinburger is, but her daughter went out early this afternoon. And I don't think she came back. Her mother was in a great stew at supper time. You should think from the way she carries on that her daughter was a girl in her teens instead of a woman of 28 or so. A look of disappointment crossed Mary Louise's face. I must see Miss Stoddard, she announced. Max, you wait here with Mrs. Hillard till I come back. Because I may need you, I shan't be gone long. She ran off and took the elevator to the third floor and knocked at Miss Stoddard's door. Who is it? Came the query. Mary Louise, gay, may I come in, Miss Stoddard? The woman turned the key in the lock and opened the door. She was dressed in a kimono and slippers. You're too late, Miss Gay, she said. Miss Weinburger has already eloped, I'm sure of it. I saw her get into a taxi this afternoon and one of the maids came out and brought her her suitcase. She probably had hidden it somewhere from her mother. She's probably married by now and run off with all the money and jewelry from Stoddard's house. Oh, gasped. Mary Louise and dismay, why wasn't I here? Did you see the man, Miss Stoddard? No, unless he was the taxi driver. But I didn't even get a good look at him. Probably she was to join him somewhere. He wouldn't risk coming near the house in broad daylight if he was the burglar who entered my room. No, that's true. If Hortense Weinburger already is married, said Mary Louise, don't you suppose her mother will hear about it tomorrow? And if I keep in touch with her mother, I ought to see the man when he comes back from the honeymoon. Mrs. Weinburger was planning to leave Stoddard house tomorrow, returned Miss Stoddard. Yes, I know, but this may alter her plans. And besides, she will surely give her forwarding address to Mrs. Hillard. She has no reason to hide. She doesn't have any idea that her daughter or her husband is suspected of stealing. I hope you're right, Miss Gay. Now tell me what happened to your head. I was riding in an open car and a stone fell out of a tree and hit me, she answered simply. The older woman pulled down the corners of her mouth and looked doubtful. Of course, she's thinking I'm just a wild young girl. And then Mary Louise concluded, but it really didn't matter in the least to her what Miss Stoddard chose to believe about her. Well, I must go to bed, Miss Stoddard, as she said aloud, so good night. Good night, returned the other carefully locking the door after Mary Louise went out. A moment later, the girl joined Mrs. Hillard and Max on the first floor. Miss Stoddard thinks Miss Weinburger eloped this afternoon, she announced. Mrs. Hillard laughed incredulously. Old maids loved to imagine romances, she said. Well, we'll see. Now, don't you think you had better go to bed? She asked Mary Louise in a motherly way. Yes, I do, agreed the girl. Max, if you're still here, I'd be glad to have you come to lunch with me tomorrow. We're allowed to have men to meals, aren't we, Mrs. Hillard? Certainly, dear. Nicks on that, protested the young men immediately. Can you imagine me, one lone fellow, in that dining room full of dames, looking me over and snickering at the way I wear my hair or tie my shoes? Nothing doing. I'll call for you at one, Mary Lou, and we'll go out somewhere to lunch. Okay, agreed the girl, smiling. See you then. End of chapter eight.