Mystery at Glennon Hall

by R A Wallace

  He seemed to study her a moment before answering. “She did.”

  Delia hoped he would say more. When he didn’t, she continued. “Hazel showed me where the kitchen steward works and the bakery, as well as the fruit cellar. With everyone working, I wasn’t able to examine the cold storage rooms.”

  Arch continued to watch her with wary eyes.

  “From what I was able to see, the rooms aren’t locked,” Delia said.

  “There’s never been a problem before,” he said.

  “What about in the evenings? Hazel is home then.”

  Arch nodded his agreement, but the wary look was still in his eyes. “The kitchen shuts down after dinner. No one should be in the area after that.”

  “I understand the students aren’t permitted near the kitchen or any of the storage rooms, but I haven’t seen anything in place that would stop them from doing so.”

  “The night watchmen patrol the grounds at night,” Arch pointed out.

  “How many night watchmen are there?” Delia thought of multiple buildings across extensive grounds.

  “Two, though they don’t both work together every night.”

  Delia shook her head. There was no way two men could be everywhere at once. If only one were scheduled, the chances of monitoring at the necessary level was less still. There could be people all over the campus all during the night. With the proper care, they could easily avoid being seen. She was quite certain of that. She’d gone unnoticed in the dark more times than she could remember.

  ***

  Delia stopped outside of the faculty committee room for just a moment to collect her thoughts. When she stepped inside, she saw a handful of people seated in a comfortable grouping of chairs. The rest of the room contained tables that would allow larger groups to work together. There were desks and chairs scattered about for smaller groups. Delia approached the others.

  “There she is.” Mabelle motioned to an empty chair next to her. “Has everyone met Miss Delia Markham?”

  Delia took her seat as Mabelle handled the introductions.

  “Wine?” Mabelle reached for a decanter from the table in front of them. A cheese and cracker tray sat next to it.

  Delia thought of the departmental meeting she needed to attend next. “Thank you, no.”

  As Mabelle gave a summary of the role of the Food Conservation Committee, Delia surreptitiously studied the others around her.

  She knew that Mabelle was the domestic science instructor. Jacob Ackerman was introduced as a mathematics teacher. Mrs. Alma St. Clair was head matron of the dormitories. Arthur Hildebrand handled the subjects of agriculture and botany.

  “Some of our committee members were unable to make it this evening because of departmental meetings,” Mabelle explained. “We were just discussing Mr. Hoover’s new initiative for Victory Bread.”

  Delia had made it a point to read up on the new rules before attending. She knew Mabelle referred to the mixing of eighty percent wheat flour with twenty percent substitute put forth by the head of the Food Administration, Herbert Hoover. It was the same thing she’d discussed with Hazel.

  “The debate we have before us now, is whether we should continue to follow the conservation methods for wheat and meat,” Professor Hildebrand said.

  No study was necessary beforehand to understand his meaning. Although the country didn’t technically suffer from rationing, everyone was familiar with the recommended schedule for wheatless and meatless meals and days. Everything that could be saved was sent to the allies in support of the war. She listened to the debate that ensued. It often became heated, no doubt aided by the amount of wine some of them consumed during the discussion.

  At the soonest possible moment, she excused herself from the meeting. She didn’t believe any of the members were responsible for stealing the missing food from the many storage areas of Glennon Hall. Delia left the meeting room and walked toward the main entrance of Glennon Hall. When she stepped outside for air, she found several students that she recognized crossing in front of the building.

  “Miss Markham.”

  Delia turned toward the voice. The group of students were some of the ones she had scheduled for typewriting classes.

  “Claude. Hello, everyone. Are you on your way to a meeting?” Delia asked.

  “There’s quite a lot going on,” he said. “At the beginning of the term, there are the societies we need to join and the election of officers for the different departments.” He motioned to the people around him. “You remember Gladys and Rose?”

  “From scheduling their classes today, yes.” The two girls were second year students.

  “And Willie and Harry,” Claude continued.

  Delia nodded a greeting.

  “We should be going,” Gladys said with an apologetic smile.

  “Yes, wouldn’t do to be late,” Claude agreed.

  Delia watched them move away before turning back to the entrance. She had her own meeting to get to. This one was being held in yet another meeting room on the first floor. She quickly found her way there.

  In addition to Earl Gordon, there were several other faces that she recognized. Both Faye King and Harriet Beard were already in the room as was George Ellis, the man with the distinctive handlebar mustache and pointed Van Dyke beard. Others soon joined them. This group offered tea instead of wine. Delia accepted a cup and settled in the corner of a settee next to Faye.

  “It looks like everyone made it through another session of scheduling classes,” Earl said as he looked around at the members of his department. “I hope everyone has had a chance to meet our newest member and welcome her. Miss Delia Markham.” Earl offered a friendly smile as he motioned toward Delia.

  “Everyone has been so helpful,” Delia said honestly.

  “Excellent,” Earl turned his focus to the notes in front of him. “I am happy to say that our enrollment has continued to increase. We shall all be very busy with our classes this term.”

  “I noted a large number of first year students,” George said. “That should cause a flurry of excitement for the first few days.”

  “Indeed. They’ll learn the routine and get settled soon enough,” Earl agreed.

  “I also noticed an absence of some students,” Harriet said. “Several of our young men joined the service over the summer.”

  Earl’s smile dimmed as he nodded. “Yes, of course. We look forward to the day they might join us again to complete their studies.”

  “Some of the changes are internal to the department.” Faye slanted a look at George.

  Delia watched a red tinge appear on the few areas of his face that didn’t have hair.

  “You missed the party we had for George and his new bride a few weeks ago,” Faye said to Delia.

  Delia murmured her congratulations as an image of another engagement party flashed in her mind. One of her friends was engaged just before Delia left the Navy. The party was well attended by many of the female yeomen that Delia had come to know during her time in the service. It was one of the last happy memories she had before her injury.

  “Has anyone heard about Carl Lawton?” George asked. “He was really serious about positioning himself to run a business. He was always one of my better students.”

  Delia suspected he was trying to change the subject. Several others offered negative responses telling George that they hadn’t heard anything about the young man.

  “Carl would have been a junior this year also,” Faye explained to Delia. “It’s very odd that he should leave the normal school without explanation.”

  Delia listened to the discussion led by Earl Gordon for the rest of the meeting. When everyone stood to leave, she was surprised to realize that she had enjoyed herself.

  Chapter Nine

  Delia moved quietly through the darkness of her room late at night. She navigated by touch, the small sliver of a moon further hindered by the clouds as it was offered little help through her bedroom window. The feel of the clothe
s she pulled on brought back memories as she stepped into each pant leg. It had been a long time since she’d pulled them on.

  Though the feel of pants seemed completely foreign to her the first several times she wore them outdoors, they now offered a measure of comfort. Unlike the ribbed cotton or wool pants she wore under her clothing for warmth, the pants she pulled on now were dark in color and designed to be worn by a man in public. They allowed her to get around easily at night. She knew from her many missions completed before the incident that ended her military career that freedom of movement was far more important than modesty.

  When the call for female recruits to the Navy was made, it was to free up the male clerical workers so they could join their brothers in fighting. The reality was that many of the women performed duties over and beyond that of an office worker.

  Although both a winter and summer uniform for the female recruits were ultimately chosen, the initial novelty of female yeomen in uniform was met with great interest. In Delia’s case, that interest was accompanied with humor. When she first reported for duty, she was assigned a man’s uniform. Though it was meant as a jest, the prank proved very helpful over the months to follow.

  As she slipped away from Hazel’s house, she was grateful that the rain they received the night before chose not to make a return visit. She navigated the path to the school campus with some difficulty. It wasn’t until she reached the campus that she was able to take advantage of the many electric lamp posts. Even then, she had to remain within the edges of the shadows to avoid notice.

  She knew there was a night watchman patrolling the grounds. She had asked the groundskeeper, Arch Keaton, for the watchmen’s work schedule. Delia kept to the edges of the light cast by the lamp posts as she made her way to Glennon Hall. It was hours past the curfew. No students should be about. She paused at the edge of the orchard to listen for any noise that might be made by someone else.

  Hearing none, she moved quickly just inside the shadows toward one of the herb gardens. She planned to use the many outbuildings of the groundskeeper for cover to get closer to Glennon Hall. Just as she reached one of them, she heard footsteps on a nearby path. Delia dropped down into a crouch and waited.

  From her vantage point, she could see the watchman walk slowly down the path away from Glennon Hall. He was headed toward the far side of the campus where the dormitories were located. With any luck, he would spend quite some time there on patrol leaving Delia to focus on Glennon Hall. She remained where she was for several minutes after he was gone.

  When she felt certain that he was safely out of range, she began moving again toward the west side of the hall. It offered the quickest access to the many kitchen food storage areas including the fruit cellar. She had nearly reached the end of the hall when she heard more footsteps.

  Once again, she found cover. This time, it was in the form of bushes. She kept still and watched as a figure stole near the path. Like Delia, this person was also keeping to the shadows. She wondered if they might be her thief. Who else would have occasion to steal about in the night endeavoring to avoid the notice of the watchman?

  She waited until the figure was past her then began to follow as stealthily as possible. It wouldn’t do to give away her presence before discovering how the culprit was stealing the food or what he was doing with it after. She was quite certain the figure was that of a man. He moved stiffly but without hesitation.

  She moved forward again, this time hampered by the presence of another garden. Not wanting to stumble through it in the dark, she had to skirt around it which took time. Delia reached another outbuilding and quietly moved to the other side trying to spot the man she was following. He was no longer anywhere in sight.

  She was contemplating which direction she should search in the hope of finding him again when she heard muffled voices. She stepped back into the deep shadows of the outbuilding and waited. Two figures emerged on the path. They were coming away from Glennon Hall.

  “I’m telling you, someone was there.”

  “Sh-h!”

  Not wanting to lose them, Delia began following them soon after they went past her but these two were in a hurry. After pausing temporarily not far from the groundskeeper’s outbuildings, they moved away. It was obvious that they were familiar with the campus grounds and had no doubt moved about it in the dark before. They began running.

  Delia tried to keep up with them but wasn’t as familiar with the campus and was hampered by the dark. She was tripped up by landscaping more times than she could count. As she neared the path that would take her back to Hazel’s, she had to acknowledge to herself that the two figures were long gone. She very much doubted that she would find them again that night. She gave up the chase and turned to take the path that led away from the campus.

  She slowed to a walk, holding the pain in her side with one hand. She hadn’t run like that since before her injury. She was slowly finding her way through the orchard toward Hazel’s house when she heard someone else approach. Grateful for the cover of the many fruit trees, she found the largest one near her and ducked behind it to wait, holding her breath the entire time. She was not far from the path and could easily hear the man’s steps.

  Unable to stop herself from looking, she peered around the tree once the footsteps were past her just as a cloud moved away from the sliver of the moon. The man wearing the soft, small-brimmed work cap walked quietly but quickly toward the campus grounds. Delia remained where she was until the orchard was once again silent except for the sounds of the night.

  Several minutes ticked by. She listened to the undisturbed rhythm of the crickets. In the distance, she heard the call of a barred owl. She swatted away at the incessant buzzing of a mosquito near her ear then began walking toward Hazel’s house. After slipping back inside, she was careful to lock the front door. She learned something valuable during her adventure. The campus was busy with people moving about in the dark of night. She wondered why the groundskeeper, Arch Keaton, was one of them.

  Chapter Ten

  Delia held a basket with one hand and shaded her eyes with the other from the late afternoon sun as she looked up into the pear tree. “Are you certain that branch is strong enough to hold you?”

  Claude’s voice held laughter. “If not, you’ll be the first one to know.”

  Gladys and Rose approached Delia carrying a basket between them. Throughout the section of the orchard with the pears, other students in the Society Club moved about collecting fruit from trees. Some, like Claude, were up in the trees. Others, like Delia, Gladys, and Rose, were collecting the fruit as it was picked and transferring it to carts. The head groundskeeper was overseeing the transfer of the fruit from the orchard to Glennon Hall for storage.

  “At least there’s some shade,” Rose said as she set her end of the basket down. She immediately reached up to secure stray strands of hair that had escaped from their pins.

  “It beats sitting in class.” Gladys wore her hair pulled back in one of the popular large bows at the top of her head. She tilted her head and brushed away the bits of leaves and twigs trapped in the fabric. When she straightened, she had a guilty look on her face. “Sorry, Miss Markham.”

  Delia smiled as she reached up to take another pear from Claude. “Perfectly understandable. Besides, we finished our classes for the day. We’re entitled to enjoy some of this fine weather.”

  “Among other things.” Rose flashed a grin before biting into a pear.

  “Hey, no fair eating the harvest.” The branches above them shook as Claude repositioned himself.

  Delia watched him stretch his arm out hoping to reach more fruit just out of reach. “I think we might have to let the rest of it near you go.”

  Gladys shielded her eyes and peered up. “If you shake the tree, we could try to catch whatever falls.”

  Claude continued to reach for the fruit. “If you miss, the pears will bruise.”

  “I’ll eat around the bruises,” Rose said with a grin.


  Delia shifted her focus to Rose just as the tree above them shuddered violently.

  “Ouch!” The tree above them stilled as Claude held his hand.

  “What happened?” Delia tried to see through the branches.

  The branches began shifting as Claude worked his way down. “I think I was stung by a yellow jacket.”

  “They love pears almost as much as Rose does.” Gladys examined Claude’s hand when he reached the ground. “Are you sure it isn’t a scratch?”

  “I should hope not,” Claude said. “That wouldn’t be very brave of me to surrender my duties for a mere scratch.”

  “Let me look.” Delia joined Gladys in her examination. “You might want to have Nurse Noble clean it.”

  “I can hardly see the nurse for a mere scratch when others are fighting a war.” Claude pulled his hand back to examine it more closely.

  “At least you didn’t fall out of the tree like Carl Lawton did last year,” Gladys pointed out.

  Rose turned from watching others as they collected fruit from nearby trees. “Maybe that’s where Carl went? Perhaps he volunteered?”

  Delia tried to remember why the name sounded familiar as she bent to retrieve some of the pears that had fallen in Claude’s haste to get to the ground.

  “He should be a junior this year, like Claude,” Gladys explained as she gently rolled a pear with her foot before retrieving it.

  Delia was doing the same thing to check for yellow jackets. “He’s the one who didn’t let the school know why he didn’t return?”

  “I can’t imagine him joining the service,” Claude said as he lifted the basket the two girls had carried over to the cart.

  “Why ever not? A lot of boys under the age of twenty-one were volunteering before the new man-power bill lowered the age to eighteen on Saturday.” Rose reached for the empty basket when Clyde finished emptying it into the cart. “That means you will need to register now also.”

  “Mid-month,” Claude agreed. “But the thing is, I remember Carl telling me about an argument that he had with his father.”