CHAPTER X The Visit With Rebecca The following morning Mrs. Gay relented from her decision to pack up the family's things and go home immediately. It was such a perfect day. The river sparkled beautifully in the sunlight, the birds sang sweetly in the trees beside the cottage, and her children seemed happy. Yes, it would be absurd to run away from all this beauty. Mary Louise was overjoyed at her mother's decision. Immediately she began to make important plans for the day. She would go over to Adam's farm and find out where Rebecca was. If necessary she could have the boys trail her during the day, in case the crazy woman might be planning another fire for tonight. Then, she would call on the dipmars and make it a point to talk to the man himself. Maybe she'd run over to Eberhardt's store at Four Corners later in the afternoon, just to check up on his business. Oh, it promised to be an interesting day for Mary Louise. Where will the wild guys of the road be today? She asked her brother at breakfast. Over at her cabin, I guess, replied Freckles. Why? I may want to call on you for some sleuthing, explained Mary Louise. I am a little suspicious about Rebecca Adams, that queer-looking woman you boys saw the night flicks in burned down. Remember her? Sure I do. Nobody'd forget a scarecrow like that. Well, you stay around here where I can get a hold of you, while I drive over to Adams Farm right after breakfast.  Freckles' face lighted up with excitement. You can count on us, sis, he assured her. Thanks a lot. Now, you help Mother with the dishes, and I'll run along. Want to come with me, Jane? Yes, I do, replied her chum. I'm really interested in the mystery of the fires. I admit now that they couldn't all be accidents. And you'd kind of like to prove Cliff Hunter is innocent, wouldn't you, Jane, teased Freckles. Naturally, who wouldn't, was the retort. Mary Louise backed the car out of the garage and followed the same road she and David McCall had taken on their first visit to Adams Farm. She drove very cautiously now, almost as if she expected Rebecca Adams to dart out again from the bushes into the path of her car. But nothing happened, and the girls reached the top of the hill in safety. An old man was sitting out on the porch with one leg propped up on a chair. A young man was standing on the steps talking to him. He was a big fellow in overalls. Mary Louise remembered seeing him at Flix the day after the fire. He must be Hattie's brother Tom. The girls left the car at the fence and approached timidly, not quite sure how they would be received. Good morning, began Jane briskly to hide her nervousness. Is Hattie home today? The old man looked questioningly at his son. Have you seen her since breakfast, Tom? He inquired. Yeah, replied the young man. She's still in the kitchen, or else upstairs with Rebecca. Well, I'll be moving on, Dad. I'll be away all afternoon. The hired man'll have to look after things. Where are you going? Four corners. What for? Tom shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't going to tell his business in front of strangers, Mary Louise decided. Then he shuffled off. See that you get back in time for the milken, was his father's command, and stop round at the back now and call the Hattie. Tell her she's got visitors. Mary Louise and Jane sat down on the step and waited. Too bad about that fire night before last, remarked the old man. Lucky thing they saved the little girl. It was Mary Louise who did that, announced Jane proudly, nodding towards her chum. Hmm, you don't say, returned Mr. Adams. Well, I reckon girls are braver than boys nowadays. My Hattie's a good girl, too. Can't say anything again, her. Oh, yes, everybody likes Hattie, agreed Mary Louise instantly. She wished that she could ask Mr. Adam about his other daughter, Rebecca, but she didn't know just how to begin. Jane, however, came bluntly to the point as usual. Mr. Adams, she said, may I ask a question? You wouldn't mind if it was something about your family? The old man grinned. I know what it is, Miss. It's about my daughter, Rebecca, ain't it? Yes. Go ahead. I ain't sensitive about her. We ought to be used to her by now. That's right, agreed Jane. Do you think she could be starting the fires? Do you know she warned Mary Louise day before yesterday there would be another fire? And of course there was, and then she came to our tent that night and wakened us up to tell us that Smith's house was on fire. Mr. Adams nodded. I can believe it, but I don't think Rebecca would ever said anything on fire. She's afraid of him. She won't even light the stove or do any cooking for that very reason. Many's the time she's come in with her pitcher of water and poured it right on the coals and the stove. It's aggravating if you're ready to get dinner. Hattie and Mia both slapped her for doing it, but she keeps right on. No, I don't see how we could lay the blame on poor old Rebecca. I'm glad to hear you say that, said Mary Louise.  Didn't you say she's home now? She's upstairs in bed with a sore throat, replied Mr. Adams. That's why Hattie's staying around, and because my rheumatism is bad again, otherwise I reckon she'd be over to the royal trying to get work. She was sorry to lose her job at Flix. Yes, she told us. The girl herself appeared in the doorway. Oh, hello girls, she exclaimed. Glad to see you. Come on into the kitchen. I'm fixing some broth for Rebecca. She's upstairs sick. The two girls entered the old farmhouse and followed Hattie through the hall, back into the old-fashioned kitchen. It was a large room, with several chairs near the windows, and Mary Louise and Jane sat down.  You've heard, I suppose, that they arrested Cliff Hunter on the charge of burning three houses, and Jane and I believe he's innocent. So we want to find out who really is responsible. We thought there might just be a chance that it was Rebecca. I don't blame you for thinking that, agreed the girl. But I'm sure she couldn't be guilty of that particular thing.  Yes, so your father said, but she must know something, or how could she predict when they are going to occur? She's always predicting them, laughed Hattie, even when there aren't any. And sometimes when it's just a fire to toast marshmallow she gets all excited and swears it's the wrath of heaven descending on Shady Nook. She came and warned us about the smiths, put in Jane. She probably saw the flames. Sometimes she gets up in the middle of the night and goes out with her pitcher. She was probably wandering around that night. I guess that's how she caught her sore throat. Mary Louise nodded, could we go upstairs and see her when you take up her broth, she inquired. Sure, but I'm afraid you won't get much sense out of her today. She has a slight fever and her mind's wandering a lot. Nevertheless the girls followed Hattie up the carpeted staircase to a room on the second floor. The blinds at the windows were pulled down, but they could see Rebecca's face surrounded by its tangled gray curls on the pillow. She was muttering to herself when they entered the door. Here's some chicken broth for you, Rebecca, said Hattie cheerfully and a couple of visitors. The woman stared at the girls blankly and then shook her head. Don't know them, she remarked. Of course you do, insisted Hattie, pulling up the window shade. These are the girls who saved a little child at the Smith Fire the other night. Rebecca sat up and peered at them. Suddenly a smile broke over her face. Yes, oh yes, she exclaimed. I do remember Mr. and Mrs. Smith are wicked people traveling off and leaving their children alone and the Lord sent a fire to punish them. But I put the fire out with my well water and these girls saved the baby. Yes, yes, I remember. Hattie straightened her sister's pillow and handed her the tray. Get me my well water, commanded the woman, indicating the familiar picture which she always carried with her about the countryside. Can you tell us where you were when that fire started? Asked Mary Louise. Didn't you go to bed that night? The woman sipped her broth slowly. No, I didn't, she said finally. I was sitting on the porch till Tom come home. About midnight I guess you call it. And then it seemed as if I could see smoke over at Shady Nook. We're high up here on the hill. We can look down on the wickedness of you people in the valley. Jane repressed to giggle. Without noticing it, Rebecca continued. So I picked up my picture and ran down the hill to Shady Nook to warn the people. I saw Smith's house burning then and I heard folks shouting. So I run along and tried all the doors at Shady Nook. All of them was locked. Then I looked in the tent and found you girls sleeping and give you the warning. Apparently exhausted with the effort of eating and talking, she dropped over on her pillow asleep. Hattie picked up the tray and the girls followed her out of the room. I wish we could talk to your brother, remarked Mary Louise as they re-entered the kitchen. If he was out late that night, maybe he saw the fire start. Maybe he knows something. Maybe he wasn't out at all, laughed Hattie. You can't depend on what Rebecca says. For the most part, she's sensible, but sometimes she gets sadly muddled, especially about fires. That's the one subject in particular that she's hipped about. Well, I guess we better be going, Hattie, concluded Mary Louise. If we want to swim this morning, why don't you come over and go in with the crowd now that you haven't any job? We'd like to have you. Thanks awfully, returned the girl, but I've got to stay here. Tom's gone off in the fort and I have to look after things. Dad can't even cook his lunch on account of his rheumatism. Where did your brother go? inquired Mary Louise. Four corners, I think. He likes to play cards over there. I'm afraid he gambles. Dad doesn't know about it. No sooner were the girls out of the gate than Jane asked her chum why she had shown any interest in Tom Adams' whereabouts. You don't suspect him, do you? She questioned. I suspect everybody, returned the other girl laughingly. No, I really don't, she corrected, because Tom Adams lost a job by Flix Burning Down. That won't be so nice for him, especially if he likes to gamble and needs the money to pay his debts. But I just thought he might know something. If he really was out till after midnight the night before last, he might even be protecting somebody. So I suppose we have to go to four corners this afternoon? sighed Jane. Not till after we call on the dipmars, replied Mary Louise. And a swim and a lunch come before that. End of chapter 10. Chapter 11 of The Mystery of the Fires by Edith Lavelle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Adelaide Dittmar's plan. There are four new young men at the Royal, announced Jane as she set the table for lunch after their swim that morning. Who, how do you know? demanded Mary Louise. Sue Reed told me, she says they used to come by flicks every summer for two weeks vacation. So instead they're staying one week at the Royal Hotel. I don't know their names. Her chum nodded, I know now. I can't think of their names either, but they'll probably come to me. They're Harrisburg people. But Jane, how can you take an interested men when your own boyfriend is in such trouble? Last night you seemed so sad. You can't be sad all the time, replied the other girl. It doesn't help Cliff any. Besides, I wasn't engaged to him so I can get a kick at a meeting new men. Can't you, Mary Lou? I don't believe I can at the present moment. I've too much else to think about. But what do you want me to do about them, Jane? Have a party and invite them over? Oh no, nothing like that. Sue asked me to come to her cottage this afternoon to meet them. She said to tell you to come along in case she didn't see you to invite you herself. You go by yourself. Mary Louise set a plate of chicken salad on the table. It does look good, doesn't it? She remarked. If I do say it myself. Yum, yum, agreed Jane. But what makes you think you don't wanna go over to the Reeds with me? Because I have other plans for this afternoon. The mystery of the fires, cried Jane, rolling her eyes. Oh, Mary Lou, forget it for a while and have some fun. No, I can't. I've got to have a talk with the Dipmars. You better stay away from them, warned Jane. You never can tell what that man might do if he got desperate. Nevertheless, Mary Louise was firm in her resolution not to join the young people, and she was thankful that she had stayed home, for no sooner had Jane gone to the Reeds and her mother to the partridges than Mrs. Dipmar herself came to the Gays bungalow. Oh, Mary Louise, I'm so glad to find you alone, exclaimed the young woman. Have you any engagement or can I talk to you for a while? I haven't a thing to do but knit, replied Mary Louise, smiling to herself. Jane has gone over to the Reeds to dance, but I was sort of tired, so I thought I'd just take it easy, and I'll be delighted to have you, Adelaide. She addressed Mrs. Dipmar by her first name, for though she had a prefix of Mrs., she was, after all, hardly more than a girl, and Mary Louise wanted to make her feel at home. Oh, thank you, replied the visitor, sinking into a chair with a sigh of content. You see, I haven't any friends up here at Shady Nook, she explained. Nothing's turned out right. I thought Horace and I would have a lovely time with the young people, belong to the crowd, and have lots of fun, but everybody avoids us. It's all Horace's fault, of course, for people were friendly at first, but when you repeatedly turned down invitations and are grouchy when you do go anywhere, naturally nobody invites you again.  And yet, I can't blame Horace entirely. It's circumstances, nothing turned out right, she repeated. Tell me how you happened to come here, Adelaide, urged Mary Louise. She wanted to hear the story from the girl's own lips to see whether it coincided with Cliff Hunter's. Well, Horace is an architect, you know, began Adelaide, and he did some work for Mr. Hunter last fall, just before we were married and before Mr. Hunter died. Mr. Hunter was so pleased with it that he gave Horace a little piece of land up here as an extra bonus, to build a cottage for ourselves, and he got Mr. Robinson to let him design his, too. We got married, and everything went finally until Mr. Hunter died. Then Horace didn't have much work, but Mr. Hunter had indicated that it would be good business for us to live up here during the summer and meet wealthy people. Some of us are far from wealthy, put in Mary Louise. We didn't know that, we judged everybody to be like the hunters. Besides, Mr. Hunter said that he owned a lot more land around Shady Nook, and as he sold it off in lots, he'd see that Horace got the contracts to design the new cottages. We came up early in the spring, and Horace enjoyed designing our bungalow in the Robinsons. We had enough money left to see us through the summer, but no prospects for the fall, unless something unexpected turned up. Then, Horace began to worry. Naturally, we thought Mrs. Hunter would be nice to us, but she was horrible, just icy. I really think she believes Horace started that fire just to get the contract to build her a new cottage. Mary Louise flushed. It was amazing to have Adelaide Dittmar calmly state the suspicion which had been whispered behind her back. It almost proved her husband's innocence, she thought. Evidently, Adelaide did not notice Mary Louise's embarrassment, for she continued her recital in the same tone of voice. I hate to tell you so much of my troubles, Mary Louise, she said, but there's a reason for it. I have a plan, and I thought maybe you'd help me carry it out. You're so popular that anything you took a hand in would be sure to be a success. Popular, repeated Mary Louise in amazement. Even if she were, she wondered how popularity could help her solve Adelaide Dittmar's worries. I want to make some money to help Horace, and I think I see a way. Before I was married, I took a course in home economics, and I was assistant director of a YWCA dining room. So you see, I really do know something about food. Still, Mary Louise did not see what on earth she was driving at. So I'd like to start a dining room here at Shady Nook, now that the inn has been destroyed. No borders like Flix, but just lunch and dinner service. I believe we could do it by using our living room and dining room and porch. That young Adam's man, Tom, I believe his name is, could knock together some benches and tables for us, and we could gather up enough dishes, I think. Would you go into it with me, Mary Louise? Mary Louise was startled by the suggestion. What an idea. Yet she could not help admiring Adelaide's courage. You really are serious, she asked. It would mean an awful lot of work. Oh, I know that, but I don't have enough to do now. Yes, I've thought it all out. We could hire Hattie Adams to wash dishes, and I could cook, and you and Jane could wait on the tables. Would you, Mary Louise? I don't know, replied the other hesitatingly. Maybe, if mother is willing, does your husband approve Adelaide? Oh yes, he's keen about it. He has promised to do anything he can to help me, buy all our supplies for us and keep accounts and even take turn in washing dishes if we need him. Oh, Mary Louise, please. Adelaide seized her hand excitedly and Mary Louise could not bear to refuse point blank. Mr. Frazier won't like it, she said. Who cares about that old stiff, returned the other girl. He has no business to charge such terrible prices. I'll bet the people of Shady Nook will be glad to get out of paying them. Still, Mary Louise hesitated. Was this plan just another proof of the Dittmar's guilt in the burning of the cottages? No, that didn't seem possible. Whatever crime Horace Dittmar might commit, Mary Louise felt sure that his charming wife could have no part in it, and she longed dreadfully to help her out. I'll talk it over with mother and Jane, she finally agreed and let you know tonight after supper. Will you be home then? Yes, indeed. Horace and I will be waiting for you on the porch of our bungalow and now I must go, Mary Louise and talk over the plans with him. I'm really thrilled about it. It'll give us a new interest in life. Oh, I do hope you'll decide to help me. And pressing Mary Louise's hand affectionately, she darted off down the steps. For a long time, Mary Louise sat still, her knitting lying forgotten in her lap while she thought over Adelaide's startling proposition. Maybe it was the best thing in the world that could have happened. Perhaps fate was playing right into her hands. The opportunity to know and to watch Horace Dittmar would be perfect if you really were guilty. She surely ought to be able to find it out upon such close association. But on the other hand, the work would take a great deal of time. Time from recreation, time from following up other clues that might transpire concerning other suspects. Her mother would probably disapprove and no doubt Jane would object. Well, she wouldn't insist upon Jane's helping her. No doubt Mabel Reed would jump at the chance of making some extra money for she expected to earn her own way through college.  Now she must turn her attention to other matters. She wanted to drive over to Four Corners and ask the storekeeper some questions about Tom Adams and possibly have a talk with the young man himself. She wished she had kept freckles with her even though she didn't need him to trail Rebecca Adams. With Jane over at the Reed's, she would have to drive to Four Corners alone. But after all, it wasn't much of a trip, only four or five miles at the most. She found a list of needed groceries on a pad in the kitchen which her mother kept for that very purpose and took her own pocketbook. 20 minutes later she drew up at the entrance to the store. As Jane had remarked, Eberhearts looked like anything but a grocery store. It was an old fashioned country house with a wide front porch and although Mary Louise had never noticed it before, there was a screened in porch around at the side partially hidden by a huge elm tree. As she locked her car, she heard voices from this porch, men's voices, and the remark which one of them made caused her to listen in astonishment.  Think you'll make me forget them hundred berries you owe me? Well, I ain't to go on and forget it.  Drawed Tom Adams in a voice which Mary Louise instantly recognized from having heard it that morning. Beat me up? His laugh was contemptuous. Evidently the other fellow was a little man Mary Louise decided. I'll see that nobody ever plays another game with you, Tom Adams. That's what I'll do.  Hold on there, interrupted the other.  Don't I always square up my debts? You always win, returned his accuser. This is my first streak of luck in a year. I'm paying you tomorrow after I collect a little bill a guy owes me. A little bill? Who around here could owe you a hundred smackers? None of your business? A voice from the store interrupted this argument. Boys, boys, not so much noise, called the storekeeper. Mary Louise realizing that she had been sitting in her car for several minutes got out and went into the store. Quite a card party you have out there Mr. Eberhard? She remarked. The man's face flushed.  I let them play games there when there was nothing but kids, but now they're grown up and it gives my store a bad look. Harmless of course, but I reckon I better put a stop to it. Not so harmless if they gambled to the extent of owing each other a hundred dollars, remarked Mary Louise shrewdly. Oh, you must be mistaken about that, Miss Gay. That was only their little joke. Nobody round here has a hundred dollars to throw away. Mary Louise smiled and pretended not to have any further interest in the matter. Nor did she ask Mr. Eberhard any questions about Tom Adams, for it wasn't necessary. She had learned plenty about the young man for herself, so she merely handed the storekeeper her list, paid her bill and departed. So Tom Adams does card tricks. She muttered to herself as she started the car. With Cliff Hunter's cards no doubt. She smiled with satisfaction. She'd write that fact to Cliff tonight. But who, she asked herself, could be paying Tom Adams a hundred dollars and for what? Surely not for the odd jobs he did for the people of Shady Nook or for Frasier at the Royal Hotel. At last she believed she was on the right trail in solving the mystery of the fires. End of chapter 11. Chapter 12 of The Mystery of the Fires by Edith LaVell. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Getting business. No one was at home when Mary Louise returned from her visit to the store at Four Corners. What a splendid chance it was to write to Clifford Hunter to tell him about Tom Adams' card tricks. With this piece of evidence, a clever lawyer ought to be able to clear Cliff of all suspicion. Tom Adams probably left that pack of cards at the Smiths deliberately, she wrote. I feel almost positive now that he is the person who is starting the fires. He had the opportunity. Each time when occurred, he was nowhere to be found. I think he was doing it at somebody else's orders for a sum of money, but I can't find out who is paying him and I feel rather certain it isn't his father. I intend to watch Tom Adams like a hawk for the next 24 hours and as soon as I can find out who is responsible, I'll wire the police. But in the meantime, Cliff, I think you ought to be freed and I wish you and your lawyer would come back to Shady Nook. She signed and sealed the letter and took it immediately to the box at the entrance to Shady Nook, where the rural postman collected mail each day. Then, feeling that a fine piece of work had been accomplished, she put away the groceries and started the evening meal. But Mary Louise made no mention of her suspicions to the family that evening, nor did she say anything about her letter to Cliff. She'd tell Jane later when they were alone, for there was no need of bringing up the subject of the fires again in front of her mother. If Cliff did return, it would be a pleasant surprise for Mrs. Gay and the other inhabitants of Shady Nook. Mary Louise's only regret would be David McCall's absence. She would love to have the pleasure of saying, I told you so, to that cocksure youth. There was plenty to talk about at the supper table that evening without bringing up the mystery of the fires. Jane had to tell all about the new young men she had met and the fun they had had over at the Reeds. She thought it was a crime for Mary Louise to have missed it all. But I had a caller, announced her chum, in a different way. My afternoon was just as thrilling as yours. You don't mean David McCall, do you, snap Jane? Oh no, he's gone home. No, not a man, a girl, Adelaide Dittmar. Adelaide Dittmar? What in the world did she want?  And she proceeded to outline the proposition which the young woman had made to her. I want to go into it, she concluded. I think it means everything to Adelaide. Lots of people had been poorer than the Dittmar's at one time or another, but I don't believe anybody has ever been much more desperate. Jane frowned. I don't see why we have to give up our vacation and work hard just because a married couple can't get on, she objected. You don't have to, replied Mary Louise. But it happens I want to, and I think Mabel Reed will be keen to help if you don't want the job, Jane. So if you don't mind, I'll run right over there after supper. Of course I don't mind, laughed Jane. Anybody that's ambitious has a right to work. But you better wait a while, Mary Lou. The Reeds may be over at the hotel eating their dinner. No they're not, put in Mrs. Gay. Mrs. Reed told me herself that they couldn't afford to go over there often or then once a week with all that family. You don't mind my doing at mother, inquired Mary Louise. No dear, provided you don't get too tired. But if you do, you can easily stop. Will you promise me that? Of course I will, mother, agreed the girl as she started to gather up the dishes. Stop that, protested Jane. I may not be ambitious, but I'm not going to let you get the supper and wash the dishes both. Freckles and I are clearing up tonight.  Suits me, agreed her chum, as she hurried off to the Reeds cottage. Mabel Reed listened to the proposition with delight and immediately consented to help. Let's go right around Shady Nook now, she suggested, and get the people to sign up for the meals. Then we'll have something definite to take to Adelaide.  Make it the same as Flix used to be, 40 cents for lunch and 60 for dinner. The Royal charges a dollar for lunch and a dollar and a half for dinner, so everybody would save a dollar and a half a day by eating with us. Frasier is going to hate us, remarked Mary Louise. Of course he is, but who cares? He'll huff and he'll puff, muttered Mary Louise half to herself. Well, come on, let's go. I've got a pencil and paper. You always have a pencil and paper with you, observed Mabel. Is that because you expect to become a writer? No, I don't believe I'll ever be a writer, Mabel. I'd rather do things than write about them. She wished she might tell the other girl what she had accomplished earlier in the summer at Dark Seeders with the help of her notebook and pencil, but that would seem too much like bragging. Besides, the only way to succeed in life is to forget about the past and keep looking forward. Write down seven reeds and four gays, said Mabel, and two dipmars, that makes 13 already. But four of those won't eat till the others are served, so we'll need only nine chairs so far. Now let's see, where shall we go first? Let's go right up the line of the cottages. Hunters is gone, of course, so we'll try the partridges. They have four in their family. Mrs. Partridge is a great friend of mother's, observed Mary Louise. I think they will sign up. The two girls walked a quarter of a mile up the private road that wound along beside the river, past the hunter's grounds, on to the pleasant five-room cottage that belonged to the partridges. As there were no young people in this family, Mary Louise did not know them so well, but she felt sure that they would like the idea of having their meals on this side of the river. Mr. and Mrs. Partridge and the two sisters who spent the summer with them were just coming across the river in Mr. Frazier's launch when the girls reached the scene. The hotelkeeper himself was running the motorboat. Mary Louise smiled at them and waited until the launch had puffed off before she explained her plan. Mrs. Partridge was delighted. Of course we'll come for our dinners, she agreed immediately. My husband is going back to the city, except for weekends, and we three women would just as soon have a bite of lunch at home. But I hate this bothering with a boat every night for dinner, although Mr. Frazier has been most kind. Then we can count on you three, asked Mary Louise in delight. Yes, and Mr. Partridge too on Saturdays and Sundays, added the woman. Mary Louise marked down the names and the two girls continued on their way, pleased with her success. That's three more paying guests, she said, totaling 12. It's thrilling, exclaimed Mabel. It was even more thrilling to find the Robinsons just as enthusiastic about the plan, adding four more names to their list. That's all, sighed Mabel, unless we go over to the Royal and try to get the Smiths. They wouldn't come, returned Mary Louise, because they'd have nowhere to sleep. And besides, they don't care about economy, they have piles of money. True, but I'll tell you whom we can get, Mary Lou, those four Harrisburg boys. They can put up tents in the woods and eat at Dipmars. They'll love it. And besides, it will make it possible for them to stay at Shady Nook a lot longer. Their money will go so much farther than it would at the Royal. That's an idea, Mabel, cried Mary Louise, and maybe they'd be willing to eat at a second table so we shouldn't have to get extra chairs. The very thing, 16 chairs isn't so bad. I guess the Dipmars have four and we each have a card table set. I suppose the Robinson boys can knock together a bench and some chairs for a porch table. Adelaide Dipmars suggested getting Tom Adams to do it. Then we'd have to pay him. No, I think we better ask the Robinson boys or Horace Dipmars. The girls reached the bungalow and found the young couple waiting for them on the porch. Horace Dipmars was a good-looking man of perhaps 25, not much older than David McCall, Mary Louise thought, and Adelaide was scarcely 20. They were a handsome pair. It was too bad if they weren't happy. Adelaide's eager blue eyes were gazing into Mary Louise's as if she could not wait for her answer. Mabel and I have decided to help you, Adelaide, announced Mary Louise immediately. We just stopped at all the bungalows to find out how many people we can get to promise to come to the meals. We have 16 for dinners and 13 for lunches, besides all of us who will be working. 16, repeated the young woman in delight. Oh, Mary Lou, I knew everybody adored you. If I'd asked them myself, they would have all refused.  Maybe Horace Dipmars was all right after all. The girls sat down on the porch and plunged right into the discussion of all the details of carrying out the plan. The young man was surprisingly helpful and resourceful. As Adelaide had said, he was keenly interested. He not only promised to provide the needed tables and chairs, but he drew plans for placing them and for arranging the kitchen to utilize every bit of its space. He knew how to make homemade ice cream, he said, and he would drive over for all the supplies twice a week. In fact, he took so much of the work upon his own shoulders that the girls felt as if there was little for them to do in advance. They were to open for business the day after tomorrow. And all we have to do is borrow some silverware and dishes, remarked Mabel as the girls rose to go, and engage Hattie Adams to wash them, added Adelaide. But I wish she wouldn't go home yet, girls. I was hoping we might play a little bridge. Her tone was wistful. Mary Louise knew how eager she was to make friends. We'll be over tomorrow, replied Mabel. But I think we ought to go now because those Harrisburg boys are over at our bungalow and I want to see whether I can't get them to camp over here in the woods and take their meals with us. There are four of them. Good girl, approved Horace. Go right after the business.  All the young people who had gathered at the Reeds were enthusiastic too. They were tired of dressing up and going to the Royal Hotel and enjoyed the informal intimacy of a small boarding house like Flix. The four young men from Harrisburg were only too glad to adopt Mabel's suggestion and planned to borrow the tents and start camping out the same day that the dining room was to open. During the entire evening, the Mr. of the Fires was not mentioned. Indeed, nobody thought of them until Jane and Mary Louise were alone again, getting ready for bed. Then the former referred to them casually. I guess you won't have time for solving any more mysteries now, Mary Lou, she remarked. With this dining room on your hands. On the contrary, returned her companion. This is just one reason why I wanted to go into the thing. I was anxious to get to know Horace Dittmar better and I'm practically convinced that he had nothing to do with the Fires. Then who, inquired Jane, Rebecca Adams? No, not Rebecca, but I did get a new clue this afternoon, Jane. I learned something that made me suspicious about her brother, Tom. Tom Adams? Why, Mary Lou, I thought you dismissed him long ago when we learned that the Adams family are losing jobs by these Fires. Yes, I know, but there's something we don't understand yet. Anyhow, Tom Adams does card tricks. Card tricks? Yes, he probably learned them from Cliff and maybe swiped his cards to do them. Jane's eyes opened wide with understanding. That pack of cards at the Smith Fire, she cried. Mary Louie's nodded, exactly. That's just what I've been thinking. So I wrote to Cliff this afternoon and told him about it. Jane threw her arms around her friend and hugged her.  Not yet, but I mean to watch Tom Adams and see whether I can't learn some more. If he really is guilty and finds out that you suspect him, observed Jane, he'll take out his spite by setting fire to this bungalow. You better be careful, Mary Lou. I expect to be, was the reply. I'm looking for trouble, but she hardly expected it in the form in which it came the following day. End of Chapter 12. Chapter 13. The Mystery of the Fires by Edith Lavelle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Threat. Is there anything I can do to help you people? Inquired Jane of Mary Louie's the following morning at the breakfast table. Pair potatoes or something? No thanks, Jane, returned her chum. We're getting along fine. I would like to have you pull a load of dishes over to the Dittmars for me, freckles, she added, turning to her brother, in your wagon. Okay, sis, was the cheerful reply. They left soon after breakfast, promising to be back again in time for lunch. It was a beautiful day, and Mary Louie's was in high spirits, anxious to get everything arranged for the opening of the dining room the following morning. Naturally she expected Adelaide Dittmar to fill the same way. She was therefore taken aback when the young woman came to the door with a distressed expression on her face and actual tears in her eyes. That husband of hers has done something. Mary Louie's thought resentfully. Oh, why can't he behave himself? Come in, Mary Louie, invited Adelaide, repressing a sob. You too, freckles, if you can keep a secret. Of course I can, replied the boy proudly. They entered the charming little house, and their hostess closed at the door behind them. Then she reached into the pocket of her apron and took out a coarse piece of paper, which she handed to Mary Louie's. Read that, she said. Mary Louie's held the paper in front of her so that her brother could see it at the same time. The message was printed in pencil and the words were misspelled, but there could be no mistaking its meaning. Close up your place right away, or expect fire. Mary Louie's read it twice before she handed it back to Adelaide Dittmar. How did this come? She demanded. I found it under the back door, replied the woman in a horse whisper. But you didn't see anybody? No. When did you find it? Early this morning, about half past seven. Did you show it to your husband? Asked freckles. Not yet, replied Adelaide. He's been so nervous, you know, and this work has just been wonderful for him. Oh, I can't bear to give it up. It means more than money to us. It means an occupation for Horace, saving him from melancholia, perhaps. Mary Louie, what can we do? Isn't there some policeman we can get to watch our house? Shady Nook never had one, replied the other girl. I certainly do wish my dad were here. Your father, what could he do? He's a detective, explained Mary Louie's. The best detective in the world, added freckles. Oh, where is he? Soft Adelaide, can't we send for him? I'm afraid not. He's out west somewhere, on a case. No, I don't see what we can do, except watch. Never leave the house. She turned to her brother. You boys scan the woods for suspects, freckles, and keep a hidden guard around the cottage. I'm going to look for Tom Adams. Something made me suspicious of him yesterday. Don't let him into the place, Adelaide, and you'll have to tell Horace, because he will need to be on guard too. Especially at night. It's the work of a maniac, I'm sure, said Adelaide. Nobody else would want to burn down all these cottages. Of course it may be, agreed Mary Louie's, but I don't believe it's Rebecca Adams who's doing it.  Of course she might be up and around by this time, but I don't think so. Anyway, I'm going over there this afternoon to engage Hattie for the job here, and I'll make it a point to find out about Rebecca then. In the meantime, let's get on with our work.  Mary Louie settled down to work. When Mabel Reed came over an hour later and Horace Dittmar returned in the car with his purchase of supplies, they were both amazed at the progress which had been made. The little house had been transformed into a tea room. With trembling hands Adelaide showed the threatening message to her husband. She chose the time when Mabel Reed was out of the room, for Mary Louie's had urged secrecy, no use frightening people away from the dining room. Horace Dittmar did not appear to be alarmed. I think it's just a practical joke on the part of those Smith kids, he said, or maybe those Harrisburg boys. The best thing we can do is ignore it. I don't think we need to worry. And he smiled so confidently that Mary Louie's wondered for a moment whether Horace Dittmar could have set those other cottages on fire himself. And because of this fact, feel perfectly safe about his own. But no, that wasn't possible, she felt sure. She had a new clue now. Someone was objecting to the serving of meals to shady nook people. The same person who had destroyed flicks in by fire. The only person who could possibly resent the project. It was Frazier, she thought, Frazier who was guilty. The hotelkeeper could not bear to lose his business and he was bribing Tom Adams to start the fires. But how could Mary Louie's possibly prove this fact? However, she said nothing of her suspicions to the Dittmar's or to Freckles, but she warned the boy not to mention the threat at home for fear of alarming her mother.  They talked happily of the opening of the dining room on the morrow and of their plans for that afternoon. We're all going to play tennis on the hotel court after lunch, announced Jane. The boy said they wanted to use it while they have the chance because they're going to put up their tents over here tomorrow morning. And Frazier will probably be so mad about losing them that he'll refuse us all the use of the court. We've got a court of our own, observed Mary Louie's. Yes, but it's not so good as the Royals. Still, it will do, agreed Jane. I don't suppose you'd have time to play with us this afternoon, would you Mary Lou? I don't know, replied her chum. I have to hunt up Hattie Adams or we'll have to do all the dishwashing ourselves tomorrow at the dining room. I'll paddle across the river with you. She may be working at the Royal Hotel. If she isn't, I'll have to come back and go see her at the farm. You certainly do like to work on a hot day. Yeah, Jane. After all, it's not nearly such hot work as tennis with those strenuous boys, returned Mary Louie's. Well, if you do go to Adams Farm, be sure to get back in time for a swim, urged Jane. About an hour later, the two girls put their tennis rackets into the canoe and paddled across the river. The tennis court was around behind the hotel, away from the shore. Here they found half a dozen young people, four of whom were playing doubles. The two extra boys on the bench moved over and made room for Jane and Mary Louie's. They'll be through in a minute. The score is five-two now, announced one of the young men. Then we four will have a set. I don't believe I had better play now, replied Mary Louie's, because I have to go hunt up Hattie Adams, who's she? A group we want to get to wash dishes at our dining room. She may be working here now, or perhaps I can find her brother. Do you happen to know Tom Adams, a fellow who does odd jobs around the hotel sometimes? The boy's nodded. Yes, I know the guy you mean. Big brute with light hair. I think he's back in the garage now, fixing up Frazier's truck. Mary Louie's jumped to her feet. This was just the information she wanted. She would rather see Tom Adams than his sister, although she didn't actually want to talk to him, just to check up on his movements. Be back in a few minutes. She called as she disappeared through the clump of bushes behind the tennis court. In her sneakers, she skipped along noiselessly and conscious of the fact that an outsider might regard her actions as snooping. Yet when she stopped just outside of the garage door, because she heard men's voices inside, she realized then that she was really eavesdropping. Immediately she identified the voices as belonging to Mr. Frazier and Tom Adams. The latter was evidently changing a tire on the truck. I tell you, I've got to have that money tonight, snarl Tom Adams. I owe a guy a hundred bucks and I need the rest myself. I can't pay it all now, wind Frazier, I just haven't got it. I can let you have 300 in the rest when the job is finished. Oh yeah, well the job ain't a going, a be finished till you cough up all the dough. Frazier's tone became more whiny. Business isn't any too good. What would it have been without me to help? retorted the younger man. Did I or did I not put money in your pocket? Oh, sure you did and I'm willing to pay for it. There was silence for a moment while Mary Louise was weighted breathlessly. She could not see the men's faces, but she had no difficulty in following their conversation. She heard the rattling of paper money and knew that Frazier must be paying Tom something. Want to receive? Demanded Tom presently. Good Lord, no, cried the other. Nothing in writing, Tom. It might be used against us. Yes, I can trust you. We've got to trust each other, sneered the younger man. That's why I say you have no right to hold out on me. I'm doing the dirty work. Mary Louise felt that she had heard enough. Everything was perfectly clear to her. The only thing required was to wire the Albany police. Forgetful of her own danger and her need for secrecy until her discovery could be announced. She ran across the front of the garage to the kitchen door of the hotel. But not lightly enough, both Frazier and Tom heard her and stepped out of the garage to see who she was. What do you want? Mary Louise, demanded Frazier, wondering whether or not she could have overheard their conversation. Lost a tennis ball? No, no, I'm looking for Hattie, Hattie Adams. Her voice was trembling. She did her best to make it sound unconcerned. Hattie doesn't work here, replied Mr. Frazier, hasn't for a long time. What gave you that idea? I thought maybe she would after she lost her job with Flix. Well, she doesn't. And I'd thank you to keep out of my kitchen and other places where you don't belong. Miss Mary Louise, yay, returned Frazier. Like all guilty people, he was angry at the innocent and he glared at the girl with hate in his eyes. Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Frazier, replied Mary Louise, turning to Tom, she asked. Is Hattie over at the farm? Reckon so, muttered the young man. Mary Louise turned about and went back to the tennis court. Another set was in progress. Jane was playing now and Mary Louise did not like to interrupt the game. So she merely picked up her tennis racket and told the young people on the bench that she was going home. I'll have to take the canoe, she said. But I guess some of you people can see that Jane gets across the river in case I don't return in time. Okay, agreed the boys. Mary Louise walked rapidly toward the river, trying to formulate a plan as she went. But it was very difficult, since there were no police at Shady Nook and the only telephone anywhere near was at the Royal Hotel. She didn't know how to proceed. There could be no doubt that Frazier and Tom Adams were guilty of starting the fires at Shady Nook. But what were the first steps she should take in having them arrested? Who should she inform first? Oh, if her father were only here to help her. They'll burn the ditmores down if I'm not quick, she thought, and they may do something to me because I think both men suspect that I overheard that conversation. Well, what shall I do? She paddled across the river and tied the canoe to the dock. Then she went inside the bungalow, debating whether or not to take her mother into her confidence. But that question was answered for her. Mrs. Gay was not at home, so there was no opportunity to tell her. Mary Louise sat down at the little desk in her bedroom and took out her notebook while the conversation between the two men was fresh in her mind, she'd write it down to show to the police when they arrived. Word for word, just as Frazier and Tom Adams had spoken. After she had finished up, she sat still for a while, thinking. At last she decided upon a plan. I'll go to Adams first and make sure Hattie will be over tomorrow, she thought, because I mustn't let Adelaide down. Then I'll drive on to the railroad station and wire the police in Albany. Maybe I'll send Mrs. Hunter a telegram too, so that she can help me out on the other end. She glanced at her costume, a red and white sports dress, which she usually wore for tennis because of its short, full skirt. That would do, although it was a little conspicuous. Easy for Tom Adams to identify in case he wanted to know what she was doing. She changed her shoes, however, for she liked pumps better than sneakers. Ready at last, she went through the back door of the bungalow to the garage. But here she met with a disappointment she had not expected. The car was not there. Then she remembered. Her mother had promised to take Mrs. Partridge and her sisters to a country fair that afternoon and would be gone until six o'clock. So there's nothing for me to do but walk, she concluded. Oh, if Cliff were only here, so I could borrow his. But if Cliff were here and his house had not been burned, there would be no necessity of sending that wire. She started at once, cutting across a field and walking as fast as she could in spite of the heat, for it was almost four o'clock now. And she and Jane had promised her mother that they would prepare the supper. But Jane was a good scout. Mary Louise thought she'd go ahead just the same if she were alone. So that part needed to worry her. The important thing was to get that telegram to Albany before anything disastrous happened. Yet her fears were entirely for the Ditmars as she trudged up the long hill to the Adams Farm. Never once was she afraid for her own sake, not until her own horrible fate descended upon her with the suddenness of a clap of thunder. Then and then only did she realize what a risk she had taken by coming to this lonely place by herself, away from her friends, her family, everybody, alone.  For Mary Louise Gay was forcibly prevented from going to the station that afternoon to send the wire to the police in Albany. End of Chapter 13. Chapter 14. The Mystery of the Fires by Edith Lavelle. This Leaprevox recording is in the public domain. The search. Jane Patterson finished her tennis match and came back across the river in a canoe belonging to one of the boys. Just as Mary Louise had suggested. Although she had hoped that her chum would return in time for the afternoon swim, she was not surprised when Mary Louise failed to appear. Adams's farm was farther off than you thought when you had to go the whole distance on foot. Jane remembered that Mrs. Gay had taken the car to the fair. She managed to find freckles in the water and asked him to come right back to the bungalow after the swim. Mary Lou has gone to Adams's farm to see Hattie, she explained. She had to walk, so she'll be all in when she gets back. Your mother will be tired too. So let's have supper ready, freckles. You can set the table and crack the ice for the tea. Okay, Jane, agreed the boy. I'll be with you as soon as I can dress. The two young people worked fast at six o'clock when Mrs. Gay drove back from the fair. They had the meal on the table. It certainly smells good, girls. She exclaimed as she came through the kitchen from the garage. Girls, nothing, retorted freckles. You mean girl and boy, mother? I did a lot of work for this meal. That's fine, dear, replied Mrs. Gay, but where's Mary Lou? She went over to Adams's farm to see Hattie, answered Jane, and she hasn't come back yet. In all this heat? Oh, that's too bad. She should have waited till I got home with the car. I didn't know she was going. She wasn't sure of it herself. She was hoping to find Hattie over at the hotel, but evidently she didn't, for she didn't wait to play any tennis. Well, I guess she'll be along soon, remarked Mrs. Gay cheerfully. We'll keep you plate hot for him, but let's eat. We're all hungry. And this food is too good to spoil by drying up. The meal passed off pleasantly. Nobody thought of being worried by Mary Louie's absence. But as the minutes went by and she did not come, freckles was the first to become anxious, for he remembered the threat to the ditmars on that coarse piece of paper that morning. And he knew that Mary Louie's was involved in that same business. When seven o'clock struck and still his sister had not put in an appearance, he suggested that his mother take the car and drive over to Adams. It's such a lonely road up to that farm, he explained, that if Mary Louie had sprained her ankle or hurt herself on the way, nobody might pass four hours to give her help. Mrs. Gay was startled. It had not occurred to her that anything might have happened to her daughter. Mary Louie's was always so self-reliant and Shady Nook was such a safe place. You too, people go, said Jane. I'll stay here and wash the dishes.  If that's all right with you, Mrs. Gay. Certainly it's all right, dear. And Mary Louie will be delighted too, I'm sure. Mrs. Gay backed the car out of the garage with freckles in the seat beside her and drove slowly up the dirt road, which led to Adams Farm. The boy kept a sharp watch on both sides of the road to make sure that his sister was not lying helpless along the way. Twice his mother stopped the car and they both called Mary Louie's name, but there was no response. She may just have stayed for supper with Hattie, remarked Mrs. Gay. And of course, since neither of us has a telephone, she couldn't let us know. She'd think we wouldn't worry so long as she got home before dark. Oh, sure, muttered the boy, but he was anxious. His mother didn't know what happened that morning. They reached the Adams gate at last and got out of the car. Old Mr. Adams was sitting alone on the porch with one leg propped up on a chair. Good evening, Mr. Adams, began Mrs. Gay. Is Mary Louie's here? I'm her mother. No, she ain't, replied the old man, taking the pipe out of his mouth. Has she been here? Not that I know of. Hattie and I have been to the fair all afternoon. If your daughter was here, she must have turned right around and gone home again. Nobody was home all afternoon, except poor Rebecca.  A feeling of alarm crept over Mrs. Gay. What could have happened to Mary Louie's? Was Tom home? Demanded freckles, remembering his sister's warning. Don't reckon so. He was working over to the hotel today after he helped our hired man this morning. Is he here now? Could we ask him? The old man shook his head. Tom packed up and left tonight right after supper. Hattie drove him to the ocean to catch the train. He's got a friend out west somewhere who owns a ranch. So Tom decided all of a sudden to go there. I tried to stop him before we needed him here. As I'm all crippled up with rheumatism half the time. But he wouldn't listen to me. Bigheaded, that's what I call it. Freckles' eyes opened wide with terror. It sounded as if Mary Louise had been right in assuming Tom's guilt and connection with the fires at Shady Nook. Running away proved it. But what had he done to Mary Louie first? Could we talk to her back up? Inquired Mrs. Gay. Sure, agreed Mr. Adams. But it probably won't do no good. She can't remember things straight, you know. She might remember seeing Mary Louise if she had stopped in, replied Mrs. Gay. Anyhow, it's worth trying. Go ride on up, said the old man. Room at the back of the house. You won't have no trouble finding it. Sorry, I can't go with you. But my leg's pretty bad tonight. Oh, that's all right, responded Mrs. Gay. I'll find the way by myself. You better stay here, Freckles. The boy looked disappointed. He would have liked to take another look at that queer creature and size her up for himself. Maybe she had done something to Mary Louie. But he sat down on the steps as his mother advised and waited patiently. Mrs. Gay hurried on up to Rebecca's room and found the woman in bed, as she had expected, with her tangled gray hair spread over the pillows. She stared blankly at her vision. I am Mary Louise's mother, Rebecca, announced Mrs. Gay. You remember Mary Louise? The girl who saved the Smith baby in the fire? The woman nodded, yes, I know Mary Louise. She came to see me today, got me a drink of water. It wasn't well water, but it tasted good. She's a fine girl, I like Mary Louise. What time was she here? I don't know, I can't tell time. It's all the same to me, except day and night. She was here in daytime. Mrs. Gay sighed. Where was she going after she left you? She asked, did she happen to say? No, she didn't. I heard a car outside. I think it was my brother Tom's. But I don't know if Mary Louise had gone before, lad or not, I can't remember. Her voice trailed off as if she were after me. She said she'd look for well water for me, because I'm sick. She said she'd come again. Oh, Mary Louise is a good girl. Mrs. Gay walked to the doorway. There was nothing more to be learned from Rebecca. She wasn't even sure that the woman knew what she was talking about. If only she could talk to the brother. But it was too late now. The only thing to do was to wait for Hattie to return from the junction and see whether she had any news. Rebecca says that Mary Louise was here this afternoon. She told Mr. Adams and Freckles when she returned to the porch. Not afraid that don't mean nothing, remarked the old man. Like as not, Rebecca's confusing today with yesterday or even last week. She ain't got no memory at all. Do you think Hattie will be back soon? I reckon so. Sounds like the Ford now at the bottom of the hill. But she was away all afternoon. You recollect at the fair. I know, agreed Mrs. Gay. But Rebecca seems to remember a car arriving about the time Mary Louise left and she thought it was your son's. So maybe he saw Mary Louise and mentioned it to Hattie. Freckles' heart stood still at these words. Tom Adams with a car? What had he done to Mary Lou? But he did not say anything. He waited for Hattie Adams to drive her car into the garage. In another moment the girl appeared on the porch and nodded pleasantly to Mrs. Gay and Freckles. Where's Mary Lou? She inquired immediately. That's just what we want to know, cried Freckles. She's lost. Did Tom say anything about seeing her? No, he didn't. He never mentioned her, why? Mrs.  But Hattie was just as doubtful as her father had been about the veracity of any of Rebecca's statements. I wouldn't go by that, she said, but Mary Lou may be home by this time, waiting for you. Don't worry till you find out. This sounded like good advice, so Mrs. Gay and Freckles got into their car and drove as quickly as possible back to Shady Nook. Jane, three twins, Stuart Robinson, and the four new boys were all waiting anxiously on the gay's porch. But Mrs. Gay knew immediately from their expressions that Mary Louise had not returned. Get the boys together at once, Freckles, commanded Stuart Robinson, and we'll search the woods thoroughly. Two of you fellows paddle across to the island and two more go over to the hotel and hunt around there. Mary Lou may have sprained her ankle somewhere and be waiting for help. Mrs. Gay went inside the cottage into her bedroom and sat down, making a desperate effort to control her fears. But she couldn't help thinking of all the dreadful stories she had read in the newspapers, stories of kidnapping and sudden death. Oh, if only her husband were here. She picked up his last letter from the bureau. He was in Cleveland now and hoped to be with them soon. Soon, she must have him immediately. She remembered the promise she had given him when they said goodbye, to send for him if she needed him. Yes, she would wire tonight. She'd paddle across the river to the hotel and send a telegram over the phone. Coming out of the door again, she almost ran into Horace Dittmar with Freckles beside him. We're afraid this is serious, Mrs. Gay, he said. Freckles and Mary Louise suspected Tom Adams of starting the fires at Shady Nook and writing us a threat, which we found under our door this morning. And now your boy tells me that Tom Adams has run away. So we're afraid that he may have done something to Mary Louise. Oh no, cried Mrs. Gay aghast. Oh, it just isn't possible. But it is mother, said the boy. And Mr. Dittmar thinks we should send for the police immediately. He'll go over to the hotel and send a wire now. Mrs. Gay sank unsteadily into a chair. For an instant, she thought she was going to faint. But she made a desperate effort to control herself. She realized that she needed all her powers in this terrible emergency. Yes, go, Mr. Dittmar, she said, and telegraph to my husband at the same time. She scribbled a message on the envelope with Mr. Gay's address and handed it to the young man. Mr. Dittmar left immediately and Freckles brought his mother a glass of water. She drank it gratefully. Here comes Mrs. Reed, he announced cheerfully. Have her stay with you while I join the boy's mother. He said, bending down and kissing her, for I can't leave you alone. In these last two hours the boy had suddenly seemed to grow up. His mother realized the fact and in spite of her trouble, she was grateful and proud. I'll be all right, dear, she replied.  And if she is somewhere in the woods, you'll surely find her, go, dear. Freckles ran off in a systematic search of all the country around Shady Nook began with lanterns and flashlights and whistles interspersed by frequent calls from the boys and girls. But as the darkness grew deeper and the silence of the woods more intense, an increasing sense of alarm took hold of all the searchers. Joking and laughter ceased, the only singing that broke out was forced because someone thought it might help find Mary Louise, but it was all in vain. Midnight came and the various groups made their way back to Shady Nook, tired, hungry and disheartened. Mrs. Gay and Mr. and Mrs. Reed and the three partridge women were all sitting on the Gay's porch, hopefully waiting for news. But they knew from the slow, silent manner of the young people's return that they had not been successful. Make us some coffee and we'll begin all over again, said Stuart Robinson. Mary Lou must be somewhere. Mrs.  No, I think you'd better all go to bed. The children must have their sleep. In the morning the police will come. Perhaps they will have some news for us. If only we hadn't let Tom Adams get away from us, muttered Horace Dittmar. We went back to Adams and got the old man out of bed to try to learn Tom's address. But he said he didn't know it and I've inclined to believe he was speaking the truth. Even in her half frenzied state, Mrs. Gay looked at the young architect and thought what an admirable man he was. How anyone could have thought him guilty of any crime was more than she could understand. He was more helped to hurt in the crisis than anyone else, except Freckles. So, accepting Mrs. Gay's advice, the group dispersed to their own cottages, intending to continue the search the following morning. End of Chapter 14. Chapter 15, Captive. The Mystery of the Fires by Edith LaVell. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Mary Louise was not far away from Shady Nook in the matter of miles, but she felt as if she were worlds away. Everything was strangely different from anything she had ever known, grotesque and terrible. For the place she was taken to was an asylum for the insane. Little did she think as she entered the Adams Farmhouse that afternoon that her freedom was to be snatched from her. That she was to be held in hopeless captivity without any means of communication with the outside world. A prisoner in a house that was far worse than a jail, enduring a life that was living death. When no one answered her knock at the Adams door that afternoon, she opened the screen and walked in, calling first Hattie and then Rebecca by name. Finally the latter replied, I'm up here, sick of it. Called the woman, who be you? It's Mary Louise, she answered. May I come up and see you, Rebecca? Yes, yes, come. Have you found a well of clear water? Mary Louise laughed to herself as she ran up the stairs. She wished that she could find some well water for the poor deluded woman, but there was none in the vicinity. She wondered what Rebecca would do if she ever did discover a well. She entered the bedroom smiling and shaking her head at the poor eager creature. No, Rebecca, not yet, but I'll find you one someday. How are you feeling? I'm better. I want to get out soon. Will you get me a drink of water, Mary Louise? Certainly, replied the girl, from the kitchen. Yes, from the kitchen. The woman sank back on her pillow and Mary Louise went for the water. When she returned, Rebecca was half asleep. Here's your water, Rebecca, she said. But where is Hattie? I don't know, gone away, I guess. They've all gone away. Soon I'll go too. Her voice trailed off as if she were half dreaming and Mary Louise walked to the door. She heard the sound of a car in the driveway below and hoping that it might be Hattie, she went down the stairs. But the car standing in front of the house was not the dilapidated Ford that belonged to the Adams family. It was a big black limousine which reminded Mary Louise of a hearse or a funeral carriage, and she shuddered. It might have been an ambulance, but ambulances were usually white. She wondered what a car like that could be doing at the Adams farm. Two men got down from the driver's seat in front and Tom Adams came and joined them at the porch steps. They talked in low tones to each other. Mary Louise opened the screen door and came out on the porch. Suddenly she heard her own name mentioned and a cold chill of horror crept up her spine. What were they planning to do to her?  He marked Tom, insists on it, and she does look like a girl by that name, but don't believe her. She's my sister, Rebecca. He raised his eyes and looked straight at Mary Louise. Hello, Rebecca. He said, we're going to take you for a ride. Mary Louise's brown eyes flashed in anger.  She retorted, go and see for yourselves. Suddenly, with the agility of panthers, the two men sprang forward and grabbed Mary Louise's wrists. Come along, Rebecca. One of them said, no, you struggling. We're taking you to a nice farm. With a desperate effort to free herself from the men's grasp, Mary Louise kicked one of her captors in the leg. He let go of her hand, but the other held her tightly. Why, little beast, he remarked. Now, sister, you take it easy.  You'll like it where you're going. You'll get better care than you do here.  He is not my brother, shouted Mary Louise, and I can prove it. Just drive down to Shady Nook a couple of miles and ask anybody. But the men preferred to ignore this challenge. They picked Mary Louise up bodily and thrust her into the back of the limousine, shutting the door and turning the key in the lock. She found herself sitting on a long seat that ran the length of the car. There were no windows on the side, only two tiny oval glasses in the back door permitted a little light to enter the enclosure. Before she could utter another sound, she heard the engine start and the vehicle went into motion over the rough stony driveway onto the dirt road that led away from the farm in the opposite direction from Shady Nook. Mary Louise's first impulse was to scream as loudly as she could in the hope of attracting the notice of the occupants of some passing car or of some farmer working in his field. But second consideration told her that such a proceeding would do her no good at all. As soon as those men in the front seat explained that she was a crazy person being taken to an insane asylum, nobody would believe anything she said. The realization of this fact brought a deathly hopelessness to her whole body.  For perhaps 10 minutes she sat thus, unmindful of the country, through which she was being driven as if she had been stunned by a physical blow and no aid were near. Then suddenly she thought of Tom Adams and a fierce anger took possession of her, reviving her spirits, bringing her back to life. She would not give up. She would fight to the bitter end. She'd make him pay and pay heavily for his diabolical cruelty. She moved along the seat to the far end of the car and peered through the tiny window. The road over which they were passing was narrow and rough. The country unfamiliar. It was not a main highway. Mary Louise instantly concluded and she wondered in which direction it lay from Shady Nook. She wished now that she had watched it from the beginning. She did not even know whether they had crossed the river or not. Still, I suppose that doesn't really matter, she thought, because if I can manage to get away at all, I can easily find my family. They'll be hunting for me. Tears of distress came to her eyes as she pictured her mother's anguish and her father was so far away. Why did I ever try to be a detective? She groaned. The punishment is too horrible. Mother and Daddy would rather lose their cottage and have the whole settlement at Shady Nook burned than have me endured torture like this. On and on they went through the lonely unpopulated country. Time seemed to stand still. It was as if the afternoon were to last forever. Yet when Mary Louise glanced at her wristwatch, she saw that it was not yet five o'clock. They crossed over a little stream and the car turned at an angle and climbed a hill. Up, up they went until they reached a narrow road at the summit. Looking down into the valley below, Mary Louise could see a stream, not as wide as the river, winding its peaceful way into the summer sunshine. It was a beautiful spot, if you could enjoy beauty, but it meant nothing at all to the unhappy girl. That looks like a main road across the valley on the opposite side of the stream, she thought. If I can escape, I'll make for that. Thank goodness I know how to swim. She wished that she had thought to glance at her watch when the car started so that she could roughly judge the distance from Shady Nook by the time it took to cover it, but she had been so miserable that she could not tell whether she had been riding 20 minutes or a couple of hours. At last, however, the car came to a stop at a high iron gate, which reminded Mary Louise of a penitentiary. So this was the way they guarded feeble-minded people. One of the men got down from his seat, took a key from his pocket to unlock the gate and swung the heavy iron doors open. When the car had gone through, he locked them securely behind him. A shiver of horror passed over Mary Louise as she heard that final click.  A life of utter emptiness was closing her in, as if her mind and her soul had been extracted from her body. How much more fiendish her existence would be the mad of any ordinary victim of kidnappers. But then Tom Adams had not kidnapped her because he wanted a ransom, but only because he desired to get rid of her. Well, he had succeeded. Nobody in the whole world would think of looking for her in an insane asylum. The car wound around a lovely driveway shaded by trees and stopped in front of a long, low plaster building that appeared to be at least a hundred years old. A man and a woman came out of the ivy-covered door as the driver unlocked the back of the limousine. With her head held high into clients, Mary Louise stepped out. How'd you do, Rebecca? Created the woman, a plain-faced person of about 50 in a gray dress. There has been a ghastly mistake, announced Mary Louise, trying to keep her tone dignified. Tom Adams is a criminal, and because I found him out, he has sent me here, calling me his feeble-minded sister. I am not Rebecca Adams, but Mary Louise Gaye. The man and the woman exchanged significant glances. Mr. Adams warned us that you would say that, replied the man. He said you do look like a girl named Mary Louise Gaye, but try to forget it, Rebecca, we have your papers, signed by your own brother and your cousin. So there's nothing you can do about it, but submit. My cousin, repeated Mary Louise, thinking of her aunt's children, aged nine and six. How could they commit anybody to an insane asylum? Yes, Stanfield Frazier. Frazier, she cried and scorned, he's not my cousin. He's no relation. He's a crook, too, like Tom Adams. Now, now, Rebecca, calm yourself, advised the woman, taking Mary Louise's arm, and just come along with me. You don't want to make trouble, wouldn't you rather walk by yourself than have these men carry you? Tears of anguish came to the girl's eyes. She looked desperately about at the group of people who were surrounding her, searching for some spark of sympathy or understanding. But the men were all regarding her with an amused expression of tolerance, as if her action were just what they had expected. Isn't there some way I can prove that I'm sane? She demanded, some test I can take. Oh, don't get yourself all worked up, Rebecca, answered the woman. Your brother told us you were all right most of the time, and that you probably wouldn't give us any trouble. We're not going to put you into chains, you'll like it here. Mary Louise groaned, there was nothing she could do or say, so long as they believed that wicked Tom Adams. So she meekly followed the woman into the house, its large hall, and big reception room were plain, and old-fashioned, with very little furniture in them. But she noticed that everything was scrupulously neat and clean. For that much she was thankful. Often she had read the places where kidnappers can find their victims were filthy and germ-laden. She knew have no fear of disease here, except disease of the mind. A younger woman in the white uniform of a nurse came into the hall to meet them. This is Miss Stone, Rebecca, announced the older woman. She will help you and take care of you. Now go with Miss Stone to your room. Didn't you bring any bag, Rebecca? Asked the nurse as she led Mary Louise up a flight of stairs to a long corridor. Mary Louise smiled grimly. Kidnapper don't usually allow their victims time to pack their suitcases, she said. And if you don't mind, Miss Stone, will you call me by my right name? It's Mary Louise Gaye. The young woman nodded solemnly. Certainly, Mary Louise, she replied. Mary Louise looked at the nurse, hopefully, wondering whether she was really finding a friend. Did the nurse believe her? All the doors along the corridor were closed, but Mary Louise had no way of telling whether they were locked or not. Until, down near the inn, she suddenly heard a loud pounding. Miss Stone stopped and, taking a key from her chain, unlocked the door. A mild-faced woman of about 35 came out. I just wanted to see who was coming, she said. Ah, a pretty girl! Miss Stone paused and introduced them courteously. The patient was dressed in the blue calico of the institution, but there was nothing queer or odd about her looks. She appeared to be much more normal than Rebecca Adams. This is Mary Louise Gaye, said Miss Stone. She has come to live with us. And this, Mary Louise, is Joan of Arc, the girl who saved France, you remember? Oh, gasped Mary Louise in amazement. Was Miss Stone joking, or did the patient really believe she was Joan of Arc? The woman in calico smiled proudly. Yes, she said, I rode right at the head of my soldiers. I told them God was on our side, and we won. But they are going to burn me at the stake for being a witch if they ever find me. That's why I stay here. I'm safe here, aren't I, Miss Stone? Yes, dear, you're safe. Was the nurse's gentle assurance? A lump came into Mary Louise's throat, the patterns of it all. Yet how kind and sweet Miss Stone was. Oh, but, ghastly thought, the nurse was being kind to Mary Louise in the same way. That was why she humored her by calling her Mary Louise. And all the time she believed her to be Rebecca Adams. Three doors farther down, the nurse stopped and unlocked another door. This is to be your room, Mary Louise, she said. It'll be nicer when you put some flowers in it. We have a lovely garden, and most of the patients have their own special flower beds. You can grow whatever you like best. Mary Louise looked about her, never in her life had she seen such a plain room. It contained only a bed and a wash-down and one chair, not even a bureau or a table. The window was high and uncurtained. To her horror, Mary Louise saw that it was protected by iron bars.  You can put your own things in the drawer of that wash stand and I'll bring you fresh clothing. Everybody wears blue here. Where do I take my bath? asked Mary Louise, no way. Not that she cared in the least, except that it would be something to do. I'll take you to the showers when I come back with your new clothing. Replied Miss Stone. And to Mary Louise's dismay, the nurse locked the door from the outside as she departed. The next twelve hours seemed to Mary Louise the longest she had ever lived through. After her bath, she was told to lie down until supper time. She was entirely alone in that bare room, until six o'clock, with nothing to do but think. Finally, an attendant brought her a tray of food, well-cooked and wholesome, but far from dainty. Nevertheless, Mary Louise ate it, for she knew that she must keep up her strength if she ever hoped to make an escape. Another attendant removed the tray, and she was left alone again, until eight o'clock. Then Miss Stone returned. We have a little best-birth service in the reception room, Mary Louise, she said. Would you like to come and join us? The girl jumped up eagerly, anything would be better than this dreadful idleness. Don't your patients have anything to do? She inquired as she went down the hall with the nurse, this doing nothing is enough to drive anybody crazy. She smiled to herself at the use of the common expression, and wondered whether Miss Stone noticed it. But the nurse gave no sign of any amusement. Oh yes, Mary Louise, she replied. There will be lots for you to do tomorrow. Everybody takes some share in the work, if possible, unless they are too ill. And we'd go for walks around the grounds and work in the garden. Oh, we thought you'd be too tired tonight, and we'd just want to rest. They joined a group of perhaps 20 people in the reception room for the singing of hymns, and the same woman who had met Mary Louise at the door of the building read the Bible. Mary Louise looked about curiously at her fellow inmates and did not find them particularly strange-looking. One or two of them had queer, staring eyes like Rebecca Adams, but for the most part they appeared normal, which, in fact, made it all the harder for Mary Louise to prove anything about herself to the caretakers. At nine o'clock the service was over and everybody went to bed. But exhausted as she was, Mary Louise could not go to sleep. She tried over and over to formulate some plan of escape, but with the locked doors, the constant supervision of nurses and attendants and that high stone wall, it seemed absolutely hopeless. It was only when the first gray light of dawn broke in the sky that she finally dozed off and then fell into a deep, heavy sleep. End of chapter 15. Chapter 16. Weary Waiting. Of the Mystery of the Fires by Edith Lavelle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Like her daughter, Mrs. Gay did not go to sleep until dawn of the following morning. Her mental torture was even keener than Mary Louise's for her imagination suggested all sorts of horrible fates, worse than the one the girl was actually enduring. Physical violence, association with hardened criminals, hunger, thirst, and death. That was the most terrifying thought of all. The fear that Mary Louise might already be dead. Like her daughters too, Mrs. Gay's suffering was all the more intense because she had to bear it alone through the long, silent night. Freckles and Jane, tired out from their vigorous search, had fallen instantly asleep. There was nobody to sympathize with the poor, frenzied mother. She swallowed dose after dose of aspirin until finally, with the first gray streaks of dawn, she at last fell asleep. Freckles was the first person awake in the household the next morning, and he immediately started the breakfast. Jane, arriving on the scene 15 minutes later, was surprised and delighted at the boy's progress. We better not wake in, mother, he said. I don't suppose she got much sleep last night. I'm afraid not. Tears came to Jane's eyes as they rested on the four-lorn little dog, sitting so disconsolently in the corner of the kitchen. Freckles, what do you think could have happened to Mary Lou? She asked. I think Tom Adams did something to her, kidnapped her, probably. But I had one idea this morning, Jane, while I was making the coffee.  We never thought to search that. Bright Boy, exclaimed Jane, so loudly as to awaken Mrs. Gay, who heard her from the bedroom. For one ecstatic moment the woman hoped that her daughter had been found. But Freckles's next remark dispelled any such idea. It's worth looking into, he continued, but I don't really think she's there, or Hattie would come and tell us. I can't believe Hattie is an enemy, or on Tom's side. She's too fond of Mary Lou. Mrs. Gay attired in a kimono and looking white and exhausted, peered in at the kitchen door. That coffee smells so good, she said, that I just can't wait for a cup of it. Freckles grinned into light and poured out the steaming liquid. It seemed to revive his mother, and she drank it eagerly, but she could not eat any breakfast. We're going up to Adams first, announced the boy, all gets to Robinson to drive us in his car, and we'll take Silky along. If Mary Lou should be hidden there, Silky'd find her. And, mother, if the police come, be sure to have them talk to Horace Dittmar, and get a look at that threat he found shoved under his door yesterday. I will, dear, returned Mrs. Gay, smiling to herself at the idea of taking orders from her small son. But the boy was proving himself both practical and business-like in the management of the whole affair. I wonder whether Adelaide Dittmar will open her dining-room today as she planned? remarked Jane. A lump came into Mrs. Gay's throat, but she managed to reply calmly. I think so. She has all her food bought, and, besides, the people are expecting it. Mrs. Reed told me last night that Sue and Mabel are both going to help her. If—if Mary Lou doesn't come back in time. You had better tell Hattie Adams to come down to the Dittmars as soon as she can. Boy don't believe Adelaide is planning to serve lunch. Jane nodded and finished her breakfast. After she and Freckles and the little dog had gone, the people from the other bungalows began to arrive at the gays to start upon a new search for the missing girl. Horace Dittmar sent them off in various directions, while he and several of the older women stayed behind to help and to advise Mrs. Gay. At nine-thirty a small red car drove into Shady Nook and stopped at the gays' bungalow. Three plain-clothes men got out, displaying their badges for identification. We want the whole story, they said. So far we know nothing, except that Mary Louie's gay of Riverside and Shady Nook is missing. We don't know much more ourselves, sighed Mrs. Gay. Then she proceeded to tell the story of the girl's disappearance the proceeding afternoon. As far as we know, the last person who saw her alive is Rebecca Adams, a feeble-minded woman who lives over at a farm where we know that Mary Louie's started to go. Nobody saw her after that. Have you any suspicions at all? inquired the detective. Horace Dittmar answered the question by telling about the three fires at Shady Nook and by showing the paper which had warned him of the possibility of a fourth. Mary Louie suspected Tom Adams. The brother of this feeble-minded woman. Though we don't know yet upon what clues she based her suspicions, he concluded. But it looks as if Adams was guilty, for he ran away. He didn't take Mary Louie's with him. We know that, because his sister drove him to the junction. But we're afraid he did something to her first. So our first duty is to find this Tom Adams, announced to the detective, rising. Can you take us over to the farm now, Dittmar? Or rather, just one of us, for the other two better stay here and investigate that threat.  We'll get one of Adams and print them both in every newspaper in the country. But that's not the only clue we'll work on, put it in another of the men. That may be entirely wrong, and Miss Gay may just have met with an accident, or even lost her memory. There are many cases of that, you know. Mrs. Gay nodded. That was just the trouble. So many dreadful things might have happened to Mary Louie's. However, she resolved to keep up her spirits until she actually heard bad news. She could endure the tension in the daytime. She thought, by keeping herself active, perhaps, before night, her husband would come. So she hunted out some pictures of Mary Louie's for the detectives and answered their questions for an hour. Just as the two men left to go to Dittmar's to investigate the threat and guard Adelaide. The roar of an airplane in the sky drew Mrs. Gay's attention. It was an auto gyro, fluttering over a nearby field where there did not happen to be any trees. Breathlessly she waited while it made its landing. But the motor did not stop, and only one man got out of the cockpit. Then, as the auto gyro speeded away, the man on the field began to run towards Shady Nook. In another moment she identified him as her husband, Detective Gay. Of the police force. He took the porch steps due at a time and out of breath as he was, lifted his trembling wife into his arms. For the first time since the disaster Mrs. Gay broke down and sobbed. But what a relief it was to give way to her feelings at last. Her husband shared her anguish and understood, comforting her as best he could with words of assurance. We'll find her, dear. I'm sure we will. He said. Mary Lou isn't a baby. She'll show lots of pluck and courage. I'm counting on that daughter of ours every time. Have you any plans at all, dear? She inquired. Yes. Lots. I'm going to do a lot of telegraphing as soon as I get the whole story. I was never so thankful before that I'd chosen the detective profession.  Mr. Gay smiled. Now that you mention it, I don't believe I have.  Freckles and Jane returned while Mr. Gay was eating his meal. But they had nothing to report. Had he was sure that Tom could not be guilty, she believed that he was running away from his gambling debts. Nevertheless she had consented immediately to a thorough search of the house and barren for the missing girl. Yet even Silky's sharp nose could not find her. The boy was delighted to find his father at home. He felt immediately that a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Poor, like Mary Louise, he believed that his father could almost accomplish the impossible. We're going over to the other shore, after lunch, with Silky, he said, and hunt some more. That's right, son, approved Mr. Gay, we'll never give up till we find Mary Lou. None of the other searchers returned with any news all that afternoon. The day was hot and sultry, and to Mrs. Gay interminable. Everything was so strangely quiet at the little resort. No radios played, no young people shouted to each other, or burst into singing. Even the birds seemed tushed, as if they too sensed the tragedy of the usually happy little colony. Late in the afternoon the four girls who were working at the ditmonds went into the river to cool off with a swim, and Mr. Gay decided to join them. But it was more like a bath than a swim, and nobody seemed to enjoy it. Mr. Gay dressed and joined his wife on the court, waiting for the detectives to return. Suddenly a noisy car came towards them, a bright green roadster, which was somehow familiar, yet did not be long at shady nook. It was dusty and dirty, its two occupants wore gobbles, as if they had been participating in a race, and until they spoke neither of the gays recognized them. Then they identified them instantly as Max Miller and Norman Wilder from Riverside. Any news yet? Demanded Max eagerly, as he jumped out of the car. No, not a bit, replied Mr. Gay. How did you boys find out about it? Is it in the papers? It's in the afternoon edition, replied Norman, handing a newspaper to the other. But of course we started before that. There was a wire to the Riverside police last night, that we got wind of. So we started early this morning. I think it's fine of you both to come, said Mrs. Gay, though she could not at the moment see what possible help they might afford. We're going to have a swim, clean up our car, and eat. Announced Max. Then we're going to drive all around here within a radius of 800 miles, tuning our horn and going slowly.  Well, we really won't need to toot our horn, returned Norman, in the same light manner. Because the color of our car is loud enough to shriek for us. Mabel and Sue Reed, passing by the bungalow on their way back to the Ditmars, stopped in and met the boys. Mrs. Gay asked them to put two extra places at the dinner table for them. Gradually the searchers returned, without any success, and everybody went to Ditmars to dinner. It was a lovely meal. Adelaide Ditmar proved that she knew how to prepare food and serve it attractively. And in spite of their anxiety, everybody enjoyed it. Everybody except Mrs. Gay, who could only pick at her food. True to their resolve, Max and Norman drove off in their cart immediately after supper, with freckles and jane along with them. The rest of the inhabitants of Shady Nook settled down to a quiet evening of waiting, waiting and hoping for news. About eight o'clock, Mr. and Mrs. Frazier came over from the hotel to offer their sympathy to the gays. I don't want to alarm you, Gay, said Frazier, but I think you haven't given enough thought to the river. Mary Louise was playing tennis on our court early in the afternoon, and the most natural thing in the world would be for her to take a swim afterwards. You know yourself that even the best of swimmers have cramps. Mrs. Gay clutched her husband's arm tightly in an effort to control herself.  Terrible as it is, drowning is better than lots of things that might happen, remarked Mrs. Frazier. Mrs.  How could she sit there and talk like that? She rose up properly. You'll have to excuse us now, Mrs. Frazier. She said, unsteadily, my husband and I have things to do. The hotelkeeper and his wife got up from their chairs just as the detective's car stopped at the bungalow. Everybody waited tensely. No news of your daughter, Mrs. Gay. Announced one of the detectives immediately. But we are on. Adam's trail. He's been spotted, speeding across the country in a stolen car. This afternoon they found the car, abandoned, near a woods. Undoubtedly he's guilty. Frazier's white face became even more pasty-looking. Nobody noticed it except Mr. Gay, who made it his business to watch people's reactions. If I may say something, put in the hotelkeeper, looking straight at the detective, I think you're on the wrong track. Because it's guilty of a small theft, he stole two hundred dollars from me, and he leapt some gambling debts. That's why he's running away. But I believe your real criminal is right here at Sheedy Nook. Who? Demanded all the detectives at once. Dittmar. Horace Dittmar. These fires have proved to be a good thing for him. Dittmar's took over all that boarding-house trade after Flixin burned down. Mary Louise was on the inside, so they were probably afraid she'd find out too much, and disposed of her. I don't believe a word of it, cried Mrs. Gay, angrily. I'd trust both Adelaide and Horace anywhere. And how about that threat they got? You saw that, she asked the detectives.  You notice it has not been carried out. Almost in hysterics, Mrs. Gay fell. She could not bear these dreadful Frazier's another minute. Desperately she clung to her husband's arm for support. Will you men come inside? Suggested Mr. Gay, realizing how his wife was suffering. Good night, Mrs. Frazier. Good night, Frazier. And so another long night passed without any news of Mary Louise. But it was not so terrible for Mrs. Gay as the first one, because her husband was with her. And Max Miller and Norman Wilder comforted her with the assurance that they were going to find Mary Louise the following day. Somehow by intuition, perhaps, Mrs. Gay believed them. CHAPTER XVII. RELEASE. Mystery of the Fires by Edith LaVelle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. While her parents and her friends at Shady Nook were imagining all sorts of horrors for Mary Louise, the day actually passed peacefully for her. It was a terrible shock to waken up in that bare little bedroom with the iron bars at the window. But after the first realization of it was over she found comfort in work. For unlike the previous night she was not allowed to be idle. Miss Stone came in at seven o'clock with a tray of breakfast in her hands. And how do you feel today, dear? She inquired cheerfully. Mary Louise opened sleepy eyes and looked about her, trying to remember where she was. For one ghastly moment she felt as if she would scream as the horror of the whole thing came back to her. But realizing that such an act would only help to confirm her nurse's belief in her insanity she managed to control herself. The sun was shining, Miss Stone was kind. Surely Mary Louise would find a way out. So she smiled back at the woman. I'm fine, Miss Stone, she said. Am I supposed to get dressed? Eat your breakfast first, was the reply. After today you'll probably eat with the other patients. But the doctor is coming in to make an examination this morning. Mary Louise nodded. And then what do I do?  You may have your choice of cleaning, cooking, washing dishes, or sewing. Then you'll eat lunch in the dining room and spend an hour outdoors in the garden. After that there's a rest period. When you may read or sew, if you like, we have a small library and there is a class in itting, too, if you prefer. Then supper and vespers. It sounds fine, so much better than doing nothing, replied Mary Louise. I think for my particular work I'll choose cooking. I'm pretty good at cakes and pies. That's nice, dear, concluded Miss Stone, turning towards the door. Be ready to see the doctor in about an hour. May I have a shower? Yes. I'll come back in fifteen minutes to take you. But I'm not a baby, protested Mary Louise. I'm quite used to giving myself baths. I know, dear, but it's a rule. Sometimes patients drown themselves if we don't watch them. Maybe later on she did not finish the sentence but left the room, locking the door behind her. It was very like a nightmare, Mary Louise thought, as she picked up her tray, a dream in which you found yourself locked up somewhere without any means of escape. But she meant to get away just the same, if she had to climb that ten-foot wall to accomplish it. She decided immediately that she would be an exemplary patient, that she would work hard and do everything she was told to do. Gradually, perhaps, her liberty would be increased as the attendants learned that she could be trusted. In spite of her blue calico uniform, Mary Louise looked exceedingly pretty that morning when the doctor came in to see her. Her cheeks were glowing with perfect health, and her dark eyes were smiling. The room, as well as her person, was meticulously neat. She identified the doctor immediately as the man who had received her the day before at the door of the institution. Good morning, Miss Adams, he said, regarding her with admiration. You're looking well to-day. I'm fine, replied Mary Louise. Only my name doesn't happen to be Miss Adams, she couldn't help adding. The physician smiled, and she detected a shade of pity in his expression, something like that in Miss Stone's face when she had humored that patient by calling her Joan of Arc. But he made no reply, and went ahead with the examination. When Miss Stone returned, he told her that Miss Adams was in perfect physical condition. It's only the brain, thought Mary Louise in secret amusement, how often she and her young friends had made that remark to each other. She resolved never to speak jokingly of insanity again. After the doctor's visit, her day proceeded in the orderly manner which Miss Stone had outlined. She cooked and washed dishes and ate lunch with the patients. Then she went out in the garden, where she was assigned a flower bed of her own. But Mary Louise was not interested in flower beds at the moment. She pretended to work all the while looking about her at the grounds around the asylum, at the high stone wall below and into the valley beyond. Across this valley, on a level with the institution, she could see a white road that ran like a ribbon along the hill in the distance. This road she decided must be a main highway, or at least a drive frequented by automobiles, otherwise it would not be so smooth and white. Staring at this road in silence, an inspiration came to Mary Louise, an idea that might bring about her longed for release. She waited eagerly for the nurse to come over to where she was working. But she was careful to keep her tone matter of fact when she did make her request. Miss Stone must not guess her hidden purpose. May I break off two sticks from some bush? She asked indifferently. I'd like to practice my semaphore. What's that, dear? inquired Miss Stone skeptically. Is it anything dangerous? Mary Louise smiled. Oh, no. It's just part of a Girl Scouts training. You've heard of Girl Scouts, haven't you? Yes, I believe I have. Anyway, I've heard of Boy Scouts, so I suppose the Girl Scouts is an organization like theirs for girls. That's right, agreed Mary Louise, and I have always been very much interested in it. I don't want to forget all that I have learned. So if I had a couple of sticks and a needle and thread, I could make a pair of flags and, and practice every day. She uttered the last sentence haltingly, fearful lest Miss Stone might guess her reason for wanting them and refuse. But as the nurse had no idea that semaphore meant signaling messages, she was entirely unsuspicious, and it had always been her policy to humor her patients in pursuit of any harmless amusements. So that afternoon she brought Mary Louise needles and cotton and scissors and sat with her while she cut up her red and white sports dress for the flags. It seemed a pity Miss Stone thought to destroy such a pretty dress, but it was not likely that Mary Louise would ever need it again. It was a sad fact that few of their patients ever returned to the outside world. Mary Louise finished her flags just before supper and laid them carefully away behind the wash stand. Tomorrow, oh, happy thought, she would try her luck. Hope is indeed a great tonic. Mary Louise went right to sleep that night and slept soundly until morning. She performed her duties so quickly and with such intelligence that even Miss Stone began to wonder whether there had not been some mistake in confining the girl to the institution. But as they did not take a daily paper at the asylum, and as they were entirely cut off from the outside world, she had no way of knowing about the desperate search that was going on all over the country for Mary Louise Gay. Now that I have finished my work, may I go out into the garden and practice my semaphore for an hour before lunch? The girl asked her nurse. Yes, certainly.  Mary Louise was not so pleased to be accompanying. But after all, Miss Stone's presence would mean freedom from other attendants. Nobody would molest her while her own nurse was with her. She selected a spot high up on the terrace from whence she could plainly see the ribbon of White Road across the valley. Then she began to signal her message. I am Mary Louise Gay, HELL! Over and over again she repeated the same letters, hope coming into her heart each time a car swung into view, despair taking possession of her when it failed to stop. Perhaps she thought she was too far away to be seen. She glanced behind her at the green bushes and moved along where she might have the gray wall of the institution or her background. Red and white should show up brilliantly in contrast to sombre gray. Half an hour passed, during which perhaps a dozen cards went by without stopping, and Mary Louise's arms became weary. But she did not give up. Sometimes she was certain. One of her own friends's cars would come over that hill and stop. Miss Stone watching the girl out of the corner for eye nodded sadly to herself. She must be crazy after all, she decided, to go through that silly routine over and over again. Intelligent on most subjects, as she had discovered Mary Louise to be, she must be unbalanced on this particular obsession. Still, Mary Louise went on trying. I am Mary Louise Gay, HELL! She signaled again for the twenty-fourth time as a small bright car appeared on the road. The car was proceeding very slowly. It looked as if it could scarcely climb the hill. Again, to the girl's intense joy, she watched it stop. Perhaps it was only because of a faulty engine or a puncture. But oh! It was stopping. Her heart beat so fast and her hands trembled so that she could hardly repeat the message. But she forced herself to go through it again. This might be her one chance, her vital hope of escape. She knew now what it must feel like to be abandoned at sea, but all it wants to glimpse a sail on the empty waters, bringing hope and rescue and life, if it stopped. But oh! The utter despair if it continued on its course on heating. Two figures which looked like little dwarfs in the distance jumped out of the car and stood still, evidently watching Mary Louise's motions. Frantic with excitement, she spelled the message again, this time very slowly, forming the letters carefully and pausing a long second between each word. I am Mary Louise Gay. Help! Help! Help! The two tiny figures waited until she had finished and then waved their arms frantically. She watched them in feverish anguish as they returned to the car and took something from the back of it. For five long minutes they busied themselves in some way which she could not understand. While she waited tense with emotion. This stone strolled over and spoke to her, startling her so that she almost dropped her flags. Tired, dear, who heard the nurse sympathetically. No, no, protested Mary Louise. Let me stay fifteen minutes more, please! Her eyes were still fixed upon the car across the valley. One of the men was stepping away from it now, holding up both arms, which waved two dark flags, made from clothing, perhaps on the spur of the moment, and then he began to signal. Breathlessly Mary Louise watched the letters as they came, spelling out words that brought floods of joy to her heart, overwhelming her with happiness, such as she had never known before. For the message, which she read, was this. We are coming, Mary Lou, Max and Norman. Great tears of bliss rushed to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Her hands trembled and her arms grew limp. In the exhaustion of her relief she dropped down weakly to the ground. Miss Stone came and bent over her anxiously, fearing that some curious spell had come over Mary Louise. A fit, perhaps, which would explain why her brother had wished to confine this girl in the asylum. I'll help you up, dear, the nurse said, and we'll go into the house. You had better lay down for a while. But I'm all right, exclaimed Mary Louise, jumping happily to her feet. My arms are coming for me, Miss Stone. She threw her arms around the woman and hugged her, two boys from my hometown, in Riverside. Yes, yes, dear, agreed Miss Stone, sure now that Mary Louise was raving, but come inside now and rest. No, I don't want to rest, objected the girl. You said I could stay out till lunch, and there's still ten minutes left. I want to wait for Max and Norman. All right, dear, if you'll promise to calm yourself. Sit down there on the step while I finish these rose bushes. Mary Louise did as she was told, keeping her eyes fixed on the gate, wondering how long it would take for the boys to get across that valley, hoping that they wouldn't get lost. She picked up her homemade flags and touched them lovingly. Suppose I had never joined the girl's counts, and suppose I had never become an expert signaler, she thought. She shivered at the very idea. She did not have to wait long, however. In less than ten minutes she saw the gardener unlock the big iron gate and a dear, familiar green roaster speed up the hill and stop at the door of the asylum. In an instant both boys were out of the car. Max was the first to reach Mary Louise. Without any question of permission he took her into his arms and kissed her again and again. Then Norman kissed her too, not quite so ardently as Max. Suddenly she freed herself laughingly from their embraces and introduced them to Miss Stone. The boys looked questioningly at the woman. If she had been responsible for the kidnapping of Mary Louise, why was the girl so polite to her? Max took a revolver from his pocket just to be prepared in case of violence. Mary Louise laughed merrily. You don't need that, Max. She said, Miss Stone won't do anything desperate. She is a nurse. A nurse? Is this a hospital? The old arm crept into Max's voice. Oh, Mary Lou, you're not hurt, are you? No, not a bit.  It's an asylum for the insane. I'm supposed to be crazy. Horrified Max sprang forward and seized Miss Stone by the arm. What kind of diabolical plot is this? He demanded. Who's the accomplice, are you? He pulled a newspaper out of his pocket and shook it in the nurse's face. All country's frantic over the disappearance of Mary Louise Gay! Miss Stone gazed at the picture in the paper with increasing fear. Had she and the rest of the staff at the asylum been accomplices to a hideous crime? But Mary Louise replied for her reassuringly. Miss Stone's innocent Max, she explained, please let her go. So are the others here. They're just obeying orders. Tom Adams put me in here, calling me his feeble-minded sister Rebecca. He really does happen to have one, you may have heard. And I understand her papers for confinement were filed once before. Mr. Fraser signed my commitment, too, pretending to be a cousin. Those two men are the only guilty ones. Tom Adams, repeated Max and Norman at the same time, and Norman added, Yes, that's what Freckles said. They're looking for Tom Adams. He ran away from shady noot, or wherever it is he lives. The police are after him. How about Frasier, demanded Mary Louise. Is he guilty? asked Max. More so than Tom, replied the girl. Oh, I must get back to tell the police. Before Frasier sneaks away. She turned to the nurse. May I go with the boys now? I'll have to ask the doctor, replied Miss Stone, hurrying inside to the office. It took no persuasion at all, however, to obtain the doctor's consent. As soon as he read the account in the newspaper and saw that Tom Adams was a fugitive from the law, he gladly agreed to let Mary Louise go free. In fact, he was anxious that she should, lest he be blamed for participation in the crime. So Mary Louise jumped into the car between the two boys, and in less than an hour she saw the dear familiar trees of shady noot in the distance. As the car approached her own bungalow she could distinguish her mother, Yes, and her father, sitting on the porch in an attitude of hopeless despair. How fun it was going to be to surprise them so joyfully. End of Chapter 17