The Girl Detective Megapack: 25 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls

by Mildred A. Wirt

  “You see, I have my work cut out for me,” she smiled. “I must go over everything, sort out the pieces I mean to keep, and get things generally in order before the auction.”

  “If you need a woman to help you, I know of an excellent one,” Madge offered. “She did work for Aunt Maude.”

  She noticed Miss Swenster’s embarrassed face and realized that she had been tactless.

  “I’d like to hire help but I’m afraid I can’t afford it,” Miss Swenster said quietly. “I am quite strong and will be able to manage alone.”

  Madge thought Miss Swenster looked frail and scarcely able to do heavy housework. She was tempted to offer her own services gratis but realized that unless she were very diplomatic, Miss Swenster would be certain to refuse.

  “I’ll find some way to help her with the work,” she told herself as she departed a few minutes later. “I know Cara will be glad to do what she can too. And if we should happen to learn something pertaining to the lost Swenster pearls—well, there’s no harm in killing two birds with one stone!”

  CHAPTER VII

  The Inside Story

  In the end Madge decided that the easiest way to help Miss Swenster would be to disregard propriety and descend boldly upon her. Accordingly, the next morning, which was a school holiday, she and Cara Wayne dressed in their old clothes and armed with brooms and dust cloths, presented themselves at the back door of the mansion.

  “We’re here to help,” they announced blithely. “Please say we may, for we want an excuse to see your dishes and the lovely heirlooms.”

  They were not certain how this blunt approach would be received, but after the first look of astonishment, Miss Swenster smiled.

  “Why, how very thoughtful of you both. I’ll be delighted to have you help. Goodness knows there is enough to be done.”

  They followed her inside. Miss Swenster had straightened the living room but had made no attempt to put other rooms to rights. The girls attacked the work with vigor. It progressed slowly for there was a great deal to be done and they frequently stopped to examine some object which struck their fancy.

  “It’s a shame this house has to be sold,” Cara declared to her chum. “Miss Swenster doesn’t say much about it but you can tell it makes her fairly sick to think of it.”

  “I know,” Madge agreed in an undertone. “I wish we could really do something for her, but I’m afraid we can’t.”

  It was impossible for the girls to work side by side with Miss Swenster and not learn more of her fine character and interesting history. Soon they caught themselves telling her about Skull and Crossbones and Cara’s weird experience in connection with the midnight initiation. Miss Swenster expressed an interest in the secret society and did not appear in the least annoyed because they had trespassed. Nor did she seem disturbed to learn of the stranger who prowled about the garden.

  “I have no idea who it could have been,” she declared. “Perhaps it was only a tramp.”

  “He was much too well dressed for that,” Madge returned. “We thought possibly he might be digging for some treasure that had been hidden on the estate.”

  Miss Swenster studied the girls quizzically. Her eyes twinkled.

  “Dear me, I only wish there were a lost treasure! I am afraid you girls have been listening to wild stories. The Swensters were never as wealthy as townfolks thought.”

  “Then it wasn’t true about the pearl necklace?” Cara asked in disappointment.

  “I’m not sure. I never saw the pearls myself, but according to the family legend, they did exist. I suppose you know the story?”

  The girls shook their heads, waiting eagerly. At last they were to hear the true account of what became of the famous pearls!

  “I’m not sure that I believe this myself,” Miss Swenster warned, “but at least the story was handed down to me. As you may know, the pearls were willed to my mother, Rose Swenster. That was her maiden name, of course. She married young and was divorced soon after my birth. She took back her maiden name and I always used it too.

  “But to return to the pearls. My mother never had them. Her sister, Florence, felt that she had been cheated in the will. She was so beside herself that she actually hid the pearls, saying that if she could not have them, they should never be worn by my mother.”

  “How mean!” Cara exclaimed.

  “Perhaps the story isn’t true,” Miss Swenster smiled. “My mother never mentioned the pearls to me. I learned the tale from the nursemaid who cared for me after Mother’s death.”

  “And Florence never told where she hid the pearls?” Madge probed.

  “No, a short time later she fell ill. When she realized she could not get well, she tried to tell what she had done with the pearls, but failed.”

  “No one had the slightest hint what became of them?” Cara questioned.

  “According to the story, I believe an old caretaker was supposed to know something about it. His name was George Andrew Jackson. He must have been seventy at the time Florence died. At any rate he was very forgetful and either would not or could not tell what became of the pearls.”

  “Was a search never made?” Madge inquired.

  “Oh, dear me, yes. Every inch of the house was gone over and the grounds were carefully searched. As a child, I used to think perhaps I could restore the Swenster fortunes. ‘Hunt the pearls’ was our favorite game.”

  It struck Madge and Cara that their interest in the lost necklace was not very original. They harbored secret hopes of locating the pearls and had even been guilty of trying to connect Miss Swenster’s loss with the mysterious excavations of the midnight prowler. They were unwilling to believe that the story was pure legend. And the fact that two generations of Swensters had failed to recover the pearls, could not entirely daunt them.

  “I had forgotten the matter until you girls reminded me of it,” Miss Swenster remarked. “Years ago, when my John was a little boy—”

  She broke off, coloring. Then, apparently thinking that some explanation was expected, she finished lamely:

  “John was my adopted son. As a boy, he was interested in the pearls too.”

  It was the first time she had mentioned the name of her son. The girls realized that Miss Swenster had not intended to speak of him. The words had slipped out unbidden. Even to think of him seemed to distress her, for she quickly changed the subject.

  The girls remained for luncheon, helping Miss Swenster prepare it. They worked through to four o’clock and as they left for their homes, asked if they might come again.

  “Of course,” she assured them, “although I can’t see what fun you get out of working. If I could pay you—”

  The girls hastily explained that they did not want pay. They really had enjoyed the day for it was fun to browse about the old mansion.

  “And do you mind if we look around for those pearls?” Madge inquired. “In sorting out things we might stumble upon them.”

  Miss Swenster smiled at her enthusiasm.

  “Search anywhere you wish, but don’t be too disappointed if you fail.”

  The girls had a great deal to talk over as they walked slowly toward their homes. They were very tired but the day had been a highly satisfactory one. The prospect of roaming over the old mansion at will was very alluring. Already Madge had several places in mind where she thought possibly they might find the missing pearls.

  “How fine it would be if we could find the necklace before the mansion is sold,” Cara mused. “Then Miss Swenster could go on living there.”

  “Perhaps she wouldn’t care to. When she left here eight years ago, she must have had a reason other than financial for closing up the house. I suppose it was on account of her adopted son.”

  “What do you imagine he did that turned her against him?”

  “I have no idea. He must have done something disgraceful. I’d like to know what it was, but of course, we must never ask.”

  The girls had every intention of returning to the old man
sion the next night after school. In planning their search for the missing pearls, they did not overlook the garden.

  “I feel there’s something valuable buried near the fountain, or the sundial,” Madge declared. “It may not be the pearls but at least it’s worth investigating. So tomorrow bring your father’s spade and we’ll do a little digging of our own!”

  CHAPTER VIII

  A Face Dishonored

  It was only natural that Madge and Cara, sharing their delightful secret, should seek each other’s company, somewhat to the exclusion of other friends. They did not mean to be aloof, but always there were many private matters which they wished to discuss. In school they passed a great many notes and one of these, which read: “Did you get the spade?” was accidentally intercepted by Enid Burnett who thought it intended for her. The message caused her considerable wonderment. At recess she managed to corner Madge.

  “What on earth are you two up to?” she demanded suspiciously. “Have you gone in for gardening?”

  “Oh, in a way,” Madge evaded.

  Until they had a real story to relate, she and Cara preferred to keep the other members of Skull and Crossbones in the dark concerning their activities. To tell their friends immediately might subject them to an unmerciful teasing. Nevertheless, Enid and Jane were not to be hoodwinked so easily. They guessed that they were being excluded from some secret, and as school was dismissed, stationed themselves at the front door ready to waylay their friends.

  Madge and Cara had been anticipating such a move, and quietly slipped out the back way.

  “A secret isn’t a secret if too many are in on it,” Madge defended their action. “We can tell them later on, but for a few days let’s keep it to ourselves.”

  Cara had hidden the spade in the high weeds of a vacant lot not far from the Swenster mansion. They rescued it and proceeded to their destination, not at all disturbed by the curious stares focused upon them by persons they met on the street.

  After securing permission from Miss Swenster, they went immediately to the garden. They took turns digging, investigating all the filled holes near the fountain and sundial. Finding nothing, they carefully replaced all soil turned up.

  “Well, you can’t make me think that man was digging just for the exercise,” Madge fretted.

  “Perhaps he found what he was after,” Cara suggested pessimistically. “In that case we’re only wasting our time.”

  Miss Swenster presently came out to watch the girls.

  “Such ambition!” she marveled. “When you have finished, I want you to come inside and have some of the chocolate cake I baked this afternoon.”

  After another fifteen minutes had elapsed, the girls decided they were doing entirely too much damage to the garden, and abandoned their project for the day. After such backbreaking work it was pleasant to sit in the comfortable living room, sipping hot chocolate and nibbling at Miss Swenster’s delicious cake.

  “Nearly all the work is done now except that I must pack small articles in boxes,” their hostess told them. “The dishes must be sorted too.” She sighed. “It hurts to see everything go but I do hope the auction will be well attended.”

  Madge and Cara eagerly offered to help with the packing, and after a polite protest, Miss Swenster agreed that they might. It was too late to work that afternoon but they promised to appear early Saturday morning.

  The two intervening days passed slowly. At nine o’clock on the morning of the third, the girls presented themselves again at the mansion. They found Miss Swenster sorting out old photographs.

  “It’s very trying to decide which ones I must throw away,” she told them. “I’d like to save them all but I can’t.”

  The girls expressed interest in the photographs and Miss Swenster showed them the picture of her mother, and of Florence Swenster. In looking at the youthful, sweet faces of the two sisters, it was difficult for Madge and Cara to realize that they could ever have been jealous rivals. They rapidly ran through the other photos, laughing at ridiculous poses or dresses that were amazingly old fashioned.

  After they had finished looking at pictures, they set to work packing dishes. It gave them a genuine thrill to handle the choice pieces of porcelain and china.

  “I haven’t done anything to the study yet,” Miss Swenster told them a little later. “I must get at that room as soon as we finish the dishes.”

  Presently she went upstairs on an errand. Before she returned, the girls packed the last dish. The study door was open and after waiting a few minutes they decided to see what must be done there.

  They saw that the walls were lined with books which required packing. Coverings had not been removed from the furniture.

  “Look!” Madge exclaimed suddenly.

  Cara turned to see her chum regarding an object above the old secretary. It was a picture, and most strangely, its face was turned toward the wall!

  “What do you make of that?” Madge whispered. “The other pictures aren’t this way.”

  “Let’s see what it is!”

  “Perhaps we shouldn’t.”

  However, the temptation was too great. Cara turned the picture over. A handsome young boy with round, full cheeks, twinkling eyes and a cropped head of golden curly hair, gazed down from the frame.

  “Who can it be?” Cara murmured.

  Before Madge could reply, they heard footsteps on the stairway. A moment later, Miss Swenster entered the study.

  “All through with the dishes?” she asked cheerfully. “My, but you are fast—” Her voice trailed off and her entire body seemed to stiffen. She had noticed the picture on the wall.

  She murmured something which the girls did not catch. Crossing the room, she removed the picture from its hook, and carried it from the study. The girls heard her mounting the stairs.

  For a moment they were too dumbfounded to speak. Then Madge exclaimed:

  “That’s what we get for our ill bred curiosity! We’ve offended her terribly. It must have been her son.”

  Cara nodded miserably.

  “The only thing we can do is to apologize.”

  They spent an unhappy fifteen minutes waiting for Miss Swenster to return. Madge was on the verge of suggesting that it might be better for them to leave, when she appeared. She smiled brightly as if nothing had happened, but they could see she had been crying.

  “We’re terribly sorry,” Madge began contritely. “We didn’t mean to be prying. It was simply inexcusable of us to touch the picture.”

  “I understand. It was nothing you did that affected me. Please, if you don’t mind, let’s not mention it again.”

  Miss Swenster was especially nice to the girls after that but the incident could not be forgotten in an instant. She made no further mention of cleaning the study and Madge and Cara carefully avoided the subject. They could tell that Miss Swenster was still upset. A half hour later they made an excuse for leaving.

  “Do come again,” she urged. “I know I’ve been very inhospitable. If you don’t come back I’ll feel that I’ve driven you away.”

  The girls were rather silent as they walked thoughtfully along the street. It was as if a measure of Miss Swenster’s unhappiness had fallen upon their shoulders.

  “I feel so sorry for her,” Madge said after a time. “She’s made an idol of that boy. And he’s brought her nothing but unhappiness.”

  Cara glanced quickly at her friend.

  “Do you know that for sure?”

  Madge nodded.

  “Yes, I intended to tell you the first thing today, but it slipped my mind. I found out through Uncle George what her son had done to disgrace the family. And when you hear the story, you’ll not blame Miss Swenster for turning his face to the wall!”

  CHAPTER IX

  The Mahogany Desk

  The girls had reached the Wayne home. It was nearly supper time but Cara would not allow Madge to escape without relating all there was to know concerning Miss Swenster’s adopted son. They sat down on the
front steps.

  “Last night I asked Uncle George if he knew why John Swenster left town,” Madge explained. “Of course, it was a wild shot in the dark, for I never dreamed he could tell me. Well, it seems he was one of the few persons in Claymore who really knew the inside story.”

  “What luck! Tell me what he said.”

  “It seems that the boy never did amount to a great deal. He must have had bad heredity. Anyway, Miss Swenster took him from an orphan’s home. She gave him every advantage, sending him away to school and later trying to establish him in business.”

  “That’s probably where a lot of her money went,” Cara observed sagely.

  “Yes, she wasted plenty on him. He never appreciated it. He was always getting into one scrape or another. Then one day he up and forged a check for over a thousand dollars! Uncle George was a director in the First National bank where the matter came up. That’s how he happened to know all about it.”

  Cara looked aghast at the news.

  “And did they send him to prison?”

  “No, Miss Swenster offered to pay the amount of the forged check, and the person whose name had been used, agreed not to prosecute. Her son left town and soon after that Miss Swenster closed up the old mansion.”

  “I suppose it broke her heart to have him turn out so badly,” Cara mused. “And when she was having financial troubles of her own it must have been hard for her to raise the money.”

  “Yes, it was unfortunate all around,” Madge agreed, getting up from the steps. “I must dash home now or I’ll be late for supper. See you tomorrow.”

  The girls did not go to the Swenster mansion the following day or the next. Their evenings were spent cramming for month-end examinations which always were a trial, even to Madge who stood high in her classes.

  Then one day, the girls noticed a brief advertisement in the daily paper, announcing that on the tenth of October, the Swenster mansion and all its furniture would be sold at public auction. It reminded them that if they intended to make another search for the missing pearls, they must be about it.

  Saturday morning found them on their way to the mansion. It was a crisp, fall day, the first really cold one of the season. Madge’s eyes were very bright and she was so gay that she fairly skipped along the street.