The Mystery of the Secret Band by Edith Lavell
[_"Mary Lou! Mary Lou! Are you alive?" Max cried._(Page 110) (THE MYSTERY OF THE SECRET BAND)]
The Mary Lou Series
THE MYSTERY OF THE SECRET BAND
by
EDITH LAVELL
The Saalfield Publishing CompanyAkron, Ohio New York
The Mary Lou SeriesbyEDITH LAVELL
The Mystery at Dark CedarsThe Mystery of the FiresThe Mystery of the Secret Band
Copyright, MCMXXXVThe Saalfield Publishing CompanyPrinted in the United States of America
_Contents_
CHAPTER PAGE I. A Real Detective 11 II. The Job 26 III. The Book Club 38 IV. A Midnight Visitor 54 V. Another Robbery 68 VI. Saturday Afternoon 78 VII. The Abandoned House 92 VIII. Knocked Out 110 IX. Lunch at the Bellevue 120 X. In the Dead of Night 132 XI. Bail 150 XII. Detective Gay Arrives 164 XIII. A Prisoner in the Dark 178 XIV. The Secret Band 194 XV. Christmas Morning 210 XVI. Two Captures 220 XVII. A Sad Story 231 XVIII. Conclusion 246
CHAPTER I _A Real Detective_
Mary Louise stamped the snow from her feet and removed her goloshes onthe porch. Whistling the Christmas carol her class had just sung atschool, she opened the door of her house and stepped inside.
Her mother was sitting in an armchair in the living room, sewing. Shelooked up with a smile at her daughter.
"How did your entertainment go?" she inquired.
"Swell!" replied Mary Louise enthusiastically. "The seniors were great.You should have seen Max!"
"I'd like to have seen Mary Louise Gay," mused her mother. "But thissnow--and your father had the car----"
"Oh, I wasn't so hot," laughed Mary Louise modestly. "I'll tell you whowas the star of the afternoon--little Rosemary Dotts. She was so funny.She forgot all of her piece except the second line--'I'm going to haveplum pudding!' Well, she said that once, and then she stared around atthe audience and repeated it. And still she couldn't think of any more,so she said it again, and rubbed her fat little tummy as she repeated it.Well, she kept that up until I thought we'd just pass out laughing ather. Honestly, the tears were rolling down my cheeks. Her teacher had tocome up to the platform and take her away."
"That must have been funny," agreed Mrs. Gay. "Well, I guess you'rethankful that it's all over. How do you like this weather for yourvacation?"
Mary Louise's brown eyes sparkled with pleasure.
"It's keen!" she exclaimed. She executed a little dance step in her joy."Two whole weeks with nothing to do but coast and skate and dance!"
"And eat and sleep once in a while."
"Oh yes, of course. Especially eat. What would Christmas be withouteating?"
"What are you going to do now?" inquired her mother.
"Go coasting. Max and Norman are bringing the bobsled over in tenminutes, and Jane and I are supposed to be ready."
"You better hurry, then. Get something to eat first. And--I forgot totell you--your father wants to see you at half-past five this afternoon.Be sure to be home in time. He said he wanted to 'consult' you."
"About somebody's Christmas present? I thought all our Christmas shoppingwas finished last week."
"It was. This hasn't anything to do with presents, but it concerns yourChristmas vacation, I believe," replied Mrs. Gay.
"Oh, that sounds exciting!" exclaimed Mary Louise. Mr. Gay was adetective on the police force, and, knowing his daughter's keen interestin the solution of crimes, he sometimes discussed his cases with her.Already she had shown marked ability in the same line herself byunraveling two baffling mysteries the preceding summer.
She ran out into the kitchen and poured out a glass of milk for herselfand cut a piece of chocolate cake. This brisk weather certainly made herfeel hungry, and the refreshments tasted good. Then she dashed upstairsto change into her "snow suit," a long-trousered costume that happened tobe popular with the older girls at the moment. When she was all ready sheopened her side window and whistled to her chum, Jane Patterson, wholived across the snow-covered lawn in the house next door.
"Yo, Jane!" she called.
Immediately a corresponding window flew up, and a youthful face appearedat the enclosure.
"Ready!" was the reply. "The boys there yet?"
"I think I hear them," returned Mary Louise. "Come on over."
The windows were slammed down simultaneously, and the two girls dasheddownstairs to their porches. Before they had finished putting on theirgoloshes, the boys were at the Gays' house.
"Left the sled at the gate," announced Max Miller, Mary Louise's especialboy-friend in Riverside.
"Do you think the snow's packed hard enough?" demanded Jane.
"Hope so," returned Max, with a grin. "The kids were sledding last nightover near Cooper's woods, so they ought to have made a track. Anyhow, wecan have some fun. You've just got to be outdoors, weather like this."
They made their way across the yard, chatting about the schoolentertainment, their dates for the next two weeks, and the fun whichChristmas always brought them. When they reached the hill where thecoasting was the best, near Riverside, they found many of their otherhigh-school friends, and for two hours they alternately rode down thesteep incline at a breathtaking speed and then trudged slowly back to thetop. The sun was setting, and the afternoon was gone before they knew it.
"Oh, I must go home!" exclaimed Mary Louise, glancing at her wrist-watchin amazement.
"It's only five o'clock," returned Max complacently. "You don't eat atyour house before six-thirty, do you?"
"Come on, Mary Lou!" called Jane. "All aboard!"
Her chum shook her head.
"I can't, Jane. I've got to be home by five-thirty."
"Why the rush?" demanded Max.
"I have to see my father. He left word with Mother for me to be there."
"Oh, you can see him at supper," observed Jane lightly. "You don't wantto break up the party, do you?"
"No, of course not. No need for that at all. I'll just run along bymyself. You people take some more rides."
"Nix," answered Max loyally. "You're not going home alone past thesewoods. If you have to go, Mary Lou, I'll go too."
"Oh, we might as well all go," said Jane. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt tobe on time for a meal once in a while. Still, I don't see what all thefuss is about."
Max looked straight into Mary Louise's eyes, a serious expression on hisface.
"Mary Lou," he asked, "you're not doing any more detective stuff, areyou? Surely last summer was enough!"
The girl laughed.
"Yes, it was plenty. Haven't I been pretty good all fall? Never tried tolisten in on any of Dad's cases or hunt for clues!"
"I should think you'd be cured," remarked Jane. "The whole town couldburn down before I'd go through an experience like yours last summer, todiscover a criminal. And if it hadn't been for Max and Norman----"
&nbs
"Max could use it," remarked Norman slyly.
"I'll say I could," muttered the other young man fervently. "But youreally don't think you'll do dangerous things again, do you, Mary Lou?"he asked eagerly. "You'll leave the solving of mysteries and crimes toyour father hereafter, won't you?"
Mary Louise's eyes twinkled.
"I'm not making any rash promises. It sort of gets into the blood, Max.There's no other thrill like it. I'd rather solve a mystery than eat....But I really don't think there is anything for me to solve now. So youcan put your mind at rest."
"I'll feel safer after this talk with your father is over," returned theyoung man.
They came to a hill, and the subject was forgotten as they all piled onthe sled and rode down together.
It was only a little past five-thirty when Mary Louise opened the door ofher house. Her father was already there, beside the roaring logs in thefireplace, comfortably smoking.
Mr. Gay was a tall, impressive-looking man, with a determined jaw whichannounced to the world that he usually accomplished whatever he set outto do. He was proud of his daughter's detective work that summer, anddelighted to have her follow in his footsteps, though he wished he mightkeep her always from the more gruesome features in the pursuit of crimesand criminals.
"Hello, Mary Lou!" he called, gazing admiringly at her rosy cheeks andsparkling eyes. "Did you have a good time?"
"Wonderful!" she replied, hanging up her snowflaked coat. "I'm sorry tobe late, Dad, but I had a hard time getting the others home."
"That's all right, Daughter. It won't take long for me to tell you what Ihave in mind. It may take longer for you to decide upon your answer."
Mary Louise sat down opposite him and waited expectantly, not sayinganother word.
"There is a small hotel for women in Philadelphia," he began. "It is apretty up-to-date place, though they try to keep their rates down,because it is endowed, and supposedly was started for girls in moderatecircumstances. They have been having some trouble lately, valuables havebeen stolen--and they are practically sure that none of the servants isguilty. So they want a detective."
"A detective?" repeated Mary Louise breathlessly. "You mean----"
"Yes, I mean you, Mary Lou. The proposition was put up to me, andnaturally I can't handle it myself. I was to find them a woman detectivefor a week or so, and I suggested you. The woman in charge is delighted.She said a young girl like you could work better than anyone else becauseno one would suspect you of being a detective. And you could have a roomnear hers, under her protection, you see.
"Now the great question is: would you want to give up your holiday forthis purpose? All those engagements you have--all the fun you haveplanned with your young friends? Christmas Day alone in a strange city?Would it be worth it to you?"
It did not take Mary Louise a moment to make her decision.
"I'd love it, Dad!" she cried ecstatically. "But I shouldn't know how togo about it," she added hesitatingly. "What to do--how to begin."
"Mrs. Hilliard--she is the hotel manager--would give you all the facts,"explained her father. "I'd go with you and get you started. But you mustconsider carefully, Mary Lou. Think of your friends and your mother andyour own pleasures. You can let me know tomorrow."
Mary Louise nodded solemnly.
"I know, Daddy. But this seems like the chance of a lifetime. Because yousee I mean to be a detective when I graduate from high school. This issomething definite to go on--a real experience, which I can make use ofwhen I apply for a job."
"Yes, of course. And, by the way, there is a salary attached. You are toget twenty-five dollars a week, and an extra bonus if you get any of thelost valuables back."
"Oh, Daddy!" The exclamation was almost a whisper, so awed was MaryLouise at the thought of actually earning money in the work that sheloved best in all the world.
"When would I start?" she asked.
"I could take you with me to Philadelphia tomorrow morning. But thatwouldn't give you much time to write notes to your friends and pack yourthings. I suppose you'd have a lot of engagements to break."
"Yes, but they don't matter."
"Don't you want to think it over another day? I could come back and takeyou after the weekend."
"No, Daddy, there's not a question of doubt in my mind. I want to try itand start as soon as possible. Some of the crowd will be at Jane'stonight, and I can tell them and phone to the others. I'll pack myclothes before I go. Have you told Mother yet?"
"No, I haven't. I thought there was no use stirring her up if you didn'tcare to undertake it. But now we'll have to break the news to her, ifyou're sure."
"You tell her, Daddy!" urged Mary Louise. "It will be easier."
"All right, I will," he promised.
A voice sounded from the kitchen. "Mary Louise, could you do an errandfor me? You'll just have time before supper."
"Yes, Mother," replied the girl, jumping to her feet. Then in a whisperto her father she added, "Tell her while I'm gone."
Picking up her coat again, she ran out into the kitchen.
"I want you to take this basket of jellies and fruit cake over to oldMrs. Detweiler," said Mrs. Gay. "I think it would be nice for them tohave the things earlier this year, because they have so little atChristmas time."
"Yes it would, Mother," agreed the girl absently.
"Ask them whether they've heard anything from Margaret," added Mrs. Gay."Maybe she's coming home for Christmas."
"She wasn't home all summer, was she, Mother?"
"No. And they didn't hear from her, either. They're terribly worried. Ican't see why Margaret Detweiler would do a thing like that, when hergrandparents have been so good to her all her life. Why, Mrs. Detweilerwore the same dress for five years just so she could put Margaret throughhigh school. And the girl always seemed so grateful and affectionate,too."
"Maybe something happened to her," suggested Mary Louise.
"Surely they would have heard if it had.... Well, run along, dear. Andcome right back, because dinner is practically ready."
Mary Louise pulled on her beret and her goloshes and went out into thesnow again. It was entirely dark now, but the stars were shining, and theair was just cold enough to be invigorating. How good it was to be youngand lively and happy! How sorry she felt for this poor old couple whomshe was visiting, missing their granddaughter so dreadfully. But perhapseverything was all right. Maybe Margaret Detweiler was coming home forChristmas.
The small brick house where the old couple lived was only a few blocksfrom Mary Louise's home. Half walking, half running, the girl covered thedistance in less than ten minutes. She saw a low light in the living roomand knocked at the door.
Both of the Detweilers were well over seventy, and they lived modestlybut comfortably on a small pension which Mr. Detweiler received. It hadbeen sufficient for their needs until the death of Margaret's parentsobliged them to take care of their only grandchild. But they had gladlysacrificed everything to give Margaret an education and a happy girlhood.She was older than Mary Louise by three or four years, so that the latterhad never known her well. But she had always seemed like a sweet girl.
Mr. Detweiler opened the door and insisted that Mary Louise come inside.Both the old people loved Mrs. Gay and enjoyed the wonderful presents ofher own making she sent every Christmas. They were profuse in theirthanks.
"You must take off your things and get warm before you start out again,"urged Mrs. Detweiler.
"I'm really not a bit cold," replied Mary Louise. "And Mother told me tocome right back, as supper will be waiting. But she wanted me to ask youwhether you had heard anything from Margaret."
Tears came to the old lady's eyes, and she shook her head.
"Not a thing since last Christmas," she answered sadly. "You know shedidn't come home then, but she wrote to us and sent us a box of
"Didn't you write to her?" asked Mary Louise.
"Yes, of course we did. But the letter was returned to us."
"What store was she working in? I am going to Philadelphia for theChristmas holidays, and I might be able to find her."
"I'm not sure. But the package was marked 'Strawbridge and Clothier' onthe box. Did you ever hear of that store?"
"Yes, I did. And I'll go there and make inquiries for you, Mrs.Detweiler."
The old lady seized Mary Louise's hand gratefully.
"Oh, if you could only find her, Mary Louise," she exclaimed, "we'd bethe happiest couple alive!"
"I'll do the best I can," promised the girl as she turned to the door.
She ran all the way home, eager to find out what her mother was going tosay in reply to her father's startling proposition about her Christmasvacation.