The Merriweather Girls and the Mystery of the Queen's Fan

"You're perfectly right, Auntie Gibbs!" nodded Bob.

"I'd like to know why? Maybe you think we don't want some attention now and then, even if we are girls," said Kit.

"Go on with your nonsense! I know you're only trying to make fun of me. The boys wouldn't do that!"

"Indeed we wouldn't, Auntie Gibbs! You are perfectly right," assented Phil, with a triumphant smile at Kit.

Bet was silent. She watched Phil with a heavy heart. How could he pretend innocence like that?

Just then the jingle of the telephone brought the nonsense to an end. Bet answered it.

"Who? What? Oh Daddy! Daddy! Are you so near, really? – Company? Of course, the girls are here and Bob and Phil. – Oh thank you, Daddy, you're a dear. Goodbye!"

Bet left the phone and sank into the depths of a roomy chair. "Dad will be here in a few hours. He telephoned from Albany. – Oh, how glad I am that we found the queen's fan!"

CHAPTER XVIII

COLONEL BAXTER RETURNS

"Come on girls, let's go right away. Bet will want her father to herself and he won't want a lot of hoodlums around!" exclaimed Bob.

"We like that, Bob Evans! In the first place we are all friends of Colonel Baxter and chums of his daughter, Bet. Therefore we are not hoodlums!" exclaimed Kit Patten.

"And Dad says to keep you here to celebrate his return. The boys too. He's bringing a business friend, but that need not bother us."

After Bet's announcement, Auntie Gibbs flew to the kitchen and was already at work with mixing bowl and measuring cups. She was quite in her element at the prospect of company, and she took command like a general. Even the boys were put to work. One of the lights in the chandelier was not working, and Bob and Phil took off their coats, mounted a ladder and repaired the damage.

The girls were sent up stairs, to dust and air and arrange the guest chamber.

Uncle Nat was lying down with a headache. "Isn't he the most provoking man," declared the old lady. "I said this morning that like as not I'd need him to-day when he's laid up."

"Oh let him rest, Auntie Gibbs," said Bob. "Phil and I will take his place. We'll be sort of Uncle Nat twins!"

And the old lady commanded them energetically. "Here Phil, you take these bones to Smiley Jim and let him out! That poor dog has been neglected badly. The girls have been so busy lately!"

"Yes, busy and worried like the rest of us. Isn't it great that they found the fan? It means a lot to me, for I had it last. And then Amos Longworth has been dogging my steps like a stage detective. I couldn't move without being watched."

"Yes, and that man came here and questioned Uncle Nat and me. Showed he even suspicioned us! What do you know about that?" exclaimed Auntie Gibbs indignantly.

"I'm wondering where he is to-day! We're apt to see him peering in one of the windows," laughed Phil.

"We haven't notified Chief Baldwin. Bet wants to get the fan into her father's hands before anyone else knows about it, and I don't blame her."

Long before train time the house was in perfect order, the table gleamed with crystal and silver. Everything of the best was displayed to welcome home the "Lord of the Manor" as Bet called him.

"I'm going to meet your Dad, Bet!" announced Bob. "Want to come along?"

"I'd like to go but I can't. I'll meet him here." In an aside to Kit she added: "There might be an accident or a hold-up. Anything is apt to happen! I feel fairly safe when I'm here in the house with you girls around me."

So while Phil finished up some odd jobs for Uncle Nat, and the girls fluttered here and there at Auntie Gibbs' command Colonel Baxter arrived.

Bet noticed the difference in her father's face at once. The look of strain was gone. And his eyes were not sad or preoccupied as they had been for the past months. The offer for the fan must have relieved him from worry.

With a joyous cry, Bet was in his arms. "Oh Daddy, I'm so glad you're home!" She was trembling with excitement.

"Why, what's the matter here? This is no way to greet your father – with big tears in your eyes!"

Colonel Baxter shook hands ceremoniously with Auntie Gibbs, introduced the stranger, Mr. Provost, the curator of an art museum in the west, and had a cheery word for each of the young people. The Colonel seemed happy that Bet's friends were there to receive him, and his old carefree manner made the girls rejoice that they did not have to cause him worry.

Before dinner he made a trip to Uncle Nat's room to shake the old man's hand.

"Auntie Gibbs, I do believe you are trying to spoil me," declared the Colonel as he partook of all the delicacies that she had provided for his benefit.

"It can't be done again, Colonel, I spoiled you long ago," she answered.

After dinner was over and the men started toward the drawing room, Bet said, "Will you girls help Auntie Gibbs? I must give the fan to Dad at once."

The Bet who presented herself to her father had scarlet cheeks and her hands were trembling with nervous strain.

"Daddy, may I see you alone for a few minutes? It's a matter of great importance." The girl's manner was so formal and grown-up that Colonel Baxter had to smile as he turned to his guest.

"Will you pardon me, Provost, for a few minutes?"

Father and daughter slipped into a small room adjoining and after Bet had closed the door she said:

"Daddy, I have to make a confession."

"What have you done now, broken a window?"

"No, no, Daddy, be serious. I've had an awful time." She unfastened something from her neck and to her father's surprise put the fan in his hand.

"Why Bet, I told you to put the fan away."

"Listen Dad. When your message came the fan was gone! Isn't that terrible? It was stolen and we got it back only yesterday. It was after the bank closed. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be disobedient."

"Who stole it?"

"No one knows yet."

Suddenly the Colonel jumped to his feet. "Well, one bit of good luck has come out of this. After a while I'll hear the whole story. Now I must see Provost. You're a brave little girl."

After the Colonel had talked with his guest for a moment Bet heard the man saying: "That's what I call luck, Colonel Baxter! I can take the fan with me, give you the check right now, and get home in time to meet that important business appointment."

A brief inspection was enough for the expert. He made out a check, put the fan carefully in his bag and asked: "When does that train leave here for Chicago?"

"In fifteen minutes exactly."

"Can we make it?"

"Bob, can you get us to the station in fifteen minutes to catch the express?"

"Certainly, let's go!" said Bob.

Bet accompanied them to the station. She sat between her father and Mr. Provost and answered their questions when she could.

"I won't feel safe until you are on the train, Mr. Provost, and even then I won't be sure that something dreadful won't happen."

"But who do you suppose stole it? It's not likely that anyone will bother me."

Bet sighed with relief as the train pulled out of the station. "Oh, I do hope he gets to the museum safely!" she whispered as she snuggled close to her father.

At Bob's suggestion, Colonel Baxter notified Chief Baldwin that the fan had been found.

"Do you know who stole it?" he asked.

"No. I have only been home a few hours, and I have had no way of finding out."

"Well, Longworth and I have a certain party in mind. Maybe we'll get a confession out of him."

"We'll discuss that later," replied the Colonel.

Making an appointment for an interview the next morning, Colonel Baxter bade goodbye to the Chief.

"Oh Daddy, what a relief it is to have you around to attend to things!" cried Bet when they were alone.

The party broke up very soon after they reached the Manor. The girls were tired from the excitement of the last week and ready to go to sleep. And when the door closed after his young guests, Colonel Baxter said, "Now Bet you look as if you'd had a hard week. Get into bed and call when you're ready and I'll sit with you a while."

It was good to have her father here, to feel his hand clasping hers with a firm grip that assured her of protection and love. She had hardly said good-night when her hand relaxed and sleep overcame her tired eyelids.

Bet was having her first untroubled sleep for over a week, and her pale face showed the effects of the strain. Her father mused: "It's been a big problem for my little girl, but she handled it well, even to guarding the fan last night! She's a great girl! I'm glad she's mine!"

Colonel Baxter slept in the guest room instead of going to his own chamber. He had promised Bet to stay near her. She waked him early the next morning.

"I'm going to school after all, Dad! I've had a good night's rest and feel fine," she announced.

"That sounds like my Bet!"

"And Dad, I forgot to tell you. On Saturday just before we found the fan in Hermit's Hut, Shirley set her camera for a wild animal picture. You see we planned on going back there Sunday and getting it. It's still there."

"I'll get it today. I have an idea that Chief Baldwin and I will take a trip out there and look over the ground. I'll get the camera."

Bet spoke earnestly: "Don't try to find out who stole the fan, Daddy! Let the matter drop."

"Why?"

"Daddy, it might be someone we liked and trusted and if it was, we'd – we'd – well life wouldn't be so good after that. Let's drop it! Say yes!"

Bet's father straightened up in bed and took the face of his daughter between his two hands.

"I see that you are still troubled. There is someone you fear has been false. Is that it? Some friend?"

"Yes, Dad."

"But that's all the more reason why we should investigate and make sure about it."

"Don't, Dad, please. I can't bear it."

"Bet, dear, can you trust your father? I've never failed you, have I?"

"No, no, never!"

"Then listen to me. Rid yourself of all your suspicions, if that's what they are, and I'll try to untangle things. Do you think if I take Chief Baldwin out to the hut that he might see something that would pin the blame on your friend?"

"No, Daddy, I don't think so. The truth is, I have the evidence with me."

"Might it not be well to trust an older head, Bet?"

"Yes. But somehow I feel that it is not being loyal." Bet left the room and returned with the handkerchief. "I found the fan wrapped in Phil's handkerchief. See his initials, P.S.G."

"Phil! And he was the last one to have the fan? It does look bad for the boy. – I must have a talk with him."

"No, no! Phil couldn't have done it. He just couldn't!" repeated Bet. Sobs shook her body. "There's the evidence but still I can't believe it."

"Where is my little Lady Betty Merriweather, I'd like to know?"

"Of course she didn't cry over her troubles. She just kept a stiff upper lip and went on, but somehow it does me worlds of good to cry, now that you are at home."

"Now Bet, I'll tell you what I'm going to do. If we find out that this terrible suspicion is correct, I'll have a serious talk with Phil. In the meantime I am going to have Chief Baldwin go over the ground with me. We'll visit the hut together. Now just where is Shirley's camera?"

"It's at the right of the hut. You'll see it without any trouble. Try to bring it without disturbing it for Shirley does want a picture for that contest this spring. – And Dad, could you and Chief Baldwin go alone? Don't take that detective!"

"Why?"

"He'd find out something against Phil, I'm sure he would. Then he'd want to put him in jail. He didn't try to shadow anyone else. That boy has had a terrible time."

The Colonel laughed at the inconsistency of his small daughter but remarked: "Be loyal to your friend. That's right. But will you give me a free hand to find the thief? I think you'll be glad you trusted me. And I'll tell you right now, I don't believe a boy who looked me straight in the eye as he did when we met, ever stole a penny from anyone."

"Thanks, Dad, you're so comforting. I'm proud of you. You will make everything come out all right."

The breakfast bell rang and Bet and her father had to hurry, for Auntie Gibbs didn't like to have them late to a meal.

"We're coming Auntie Gibbs," cried the girl. And a few minutes later the two best chums in the world, danced down the long stairway to the breakfast room, arm in arm, like carefree children.

CHAPTER XIX

THE REWARD

Colonel Baxter was not very sure that they would ever be able to prove who stole the fan. He confided that much to Bet at lunch time, when he returned from Hermit's Hut.

The girl looked relieved. "I almost wish you wouldn't. Let's drop it. Did you get Shirley's camera, Dad? Oh I do hope she got a wild animal picture!"

"Tell Shirley that the trap was sprung, and the flash powder had gone off, and it is almost certain to have been a deer. Ask her to come to the shop right after school and I'll bring the camera down."

"Won't she be happy!" Bet squealed with delight.

The school room clock had never ticked off its minutes so slowly as it did that afternoon; each minute seemed like an hour to the excited girls whose minds were centered on Shirley's luck. Deer got all mixed up with their history lessons and Miss Elder cast reproving glances more than once at the Merriweather Girls who were finding it so hard to settle to work.

In her heart she didn't blame them. Vacation was such a glorious time for fun and she knew the girls' capacity for getting the most joy out of everything in life.

She thought: "The darlings! And I have to be the one to order them back to their books!"

At five minutes to three, Bet bent her head over her book, declaring that she would not look at the clock again until it was three. Then, when she was certain that the minute hand must be pointing to twelve, she looked up and gave a gasp. Only one minute had gone by! How the time dragged!

But at last the welcome sound of dismissal bell did come and the girls were free. They ran all the way to the shop.

"It's a good thing I carry my key with me, or we would have lost about ten minutes," said Shirley and she unlocked the door and let the girls in.

Shirley made a dive toward the dark room.

"What are you going to do now?" asked Joy.

"I'll get everything ready in here to develop the plate; just as soon as Colonel Baxter comes."

At exactly quarter past three Bet's father arrived, bearing Shirley's camera as if it were the queen's fan itself.

"Here's your deer, Shirley. Put him in the bath and let's have a look at him. I'm first!"

"You've earned that right," Shirley answered.

"All right! No one must come near until I call." He and Shirley disappeared behind the curtained doorway and silence settled over the group as Shirley developed the negative.

After much waiting and eager straining of ears, the girls caught a startled cry from Shirley. They crowded into the dark room, as Shirley said impatiently:

"Oh Colonel Baxter, it isn't a deer at all! Isn't that mean? Look here! Oh, I won't go on with it, I'll smash the old thing!" and Shirley made as if to throw the plate into the discard.

Colonel Baxter caught her arm in time to save it. "Hold on there, Shirley. That plate may be worth more to you than the prize contest would bring. Finish developing it."

"What is it?" cried Bet. "Do let us see!" and the three girls crowded closer.

"What's all the excitement about? What are the Merriweather Girls doing now?" asked Bob Evans as he and Phil Gordon came into Shirley's Shop and followed the girls to the dark room.

"Ssh! Bob! We think Shirley's got a picture of a deer or some other wild animal. Keep quiet."

"Yes, keep quiet Phil!" laughed Bob. "The wild animal might get excited and run."

Everything in the dark room was quiet as Shirley developed the plate. Colonel Baxter and the girls pressed closer together to let the boys crowd in.

"Why Dad, it isn't a deer at all, it's a man!" exclaimed Bet as she stood looking over Shirley's shoulder.

"I suspected as much, but we want to know who the man is."

"Oh Dad…" Bet left the sentence unfinished. She edged close to her father and held his hand. Her own felt cold and clammy while her face burned. She did not dare to turn toward Phil, whose face showed dimly in the red glow.

"I'm so disappointed!" exclaimed Shirley. "I could just weep!"

"Who is it?" asked Phil.

The Colonel answered quietly: "If I am not mistaken, it's the man who stole the fan."

"Then let me nearer. I think I have first right, don't you, Colonel?"

"You have, Phil!" Colonel Baxter made room for the boy to pass.

"Why I see!" cried Shirley. "It's somebody sneaking into Hermit's Hut."

"Who is it? Tell me Shirley!" exclaimed Kit.

"It – it looks like old Peter Gruff! It is! No mistake!"

"There, didn't I tell you all along there was something suspicious about that old man!" Kit was jubilant. "He's slinking back to find the fan."

"Well that clears you, Phil. Not even Edith Whalen can cast slurring remarks at you now," said Bob.

"I'm glad to be free of this suspicion, but I'm sorry for that old rascal, too."

"I wouldn't waste any sympathy on him," remarked Joy Evans vindictively. "He let people believe you had done it and helped along the suspicion by saying that you had tried to sell him a fan. I hope he goes to jail!"

Colonel Baxter spoke: "Now come on out and let Shirley finish it up. Could you get a good print by this evening? The plate would do, but we'd like to have a clear print to show the old fellow. I'll go down and see Chief Baldwin now."

"I'll have it ready at eight o'clock!" answered Shirley from the dark room.

It was in the back room of Shirley's Shop where Chief Baldwin brought old Peter Gruff, confronted him with the picture and accused him of stealing the fan.

"I steal Colonel Baxter's fan!" he exclaimed violently. "Why should I take the fan when I have enough of my own?"

"That is the question I am asking you. Now, Peter, confess and get it over with. If you do not tell us everything, I'll send this picture to the New York police and get your record. Maybe there is another picture of you in the Rogues Gallery!"

The old man started excitedly. "No, no, don't do that!" he cried. Then feeling that he had given himself away, added, "I don't like policemen; they ask too many questions. I have done nothing. I'm an old man and don't want to be disturbed."

"All right, Peter, out with the story! If you say you stole the fan, we'll go easy with you. – That is, if you confess. The girls have asked me not to be too hard on you."

"Those girls!" exclaimed Peter Gruff, throwing his hands up in dismay. "They come and they come and they look into every corner of the shop! They are a nuisance!"

The Chief laughed heartily. "All right Peter, now why did you take the fan?"

"I wouldn't steal the fan," began Peter Gruff, but Chief Baldwin rose.

"All right, we'll get the city police on the job and it will likely mean a long term in prison for you."

At the word "prison," Peter Gruff jumped to his feet. "No, no, Chief, not that! I'll tell." And with the helpful questioning of the Chief, the old man blurted out his story. It began with the night of the party. He had looked for the fan in the attic. It was his footprints in the dust and the snow.

"How could that be?" laughed Chief Baldwin, looking at the tiny foot of the old man. "Those feet were big."

Peter hesitated a moment then continued: "I put on big shoes so they'd think a big man did it."

He owned that he had slipped back into the house and had been seen by some of the young people. Finally he had hidden away in a closet and waited until the party was over. When he thought everyone was asleep he had crept into Colonel Baxter's study and stolen the fan, and later he had hidden it in Hermit's Hut.

"But why did you hide it away out there?" asked the Chief.

"I didn't think anybody would go out there in the winter. Nobody ever does. But those girls! They go everywhere! I thought I would leave the fan there until people had forgotten it. It was a good hiding place."

"But as usual when a man does something wrong, he gets found out! The girls were too smart for you!" answered the Chief. "Why did you want the fan? Tell me that."

"I had a big offer from a dealer in Paris. That dealer told me it was owned by someone in Lynnwood, he didn't know who. But I knew that Colonel Baxter would be the only person who could have it. So I got it."

"If I had my way," said Chief Baldwin sternly, "I'd put you in jail and keep you there a long time. But Colonel Baxter is kind and is willing to give you another chance. So let this be a lesson to you to go straight."

The old man seemed to have shrunk to half his size as he rose and followed the Chief out of the door. In the outside room he met Colonel Baxter. "I'm sorry," he said and was gone, but whether he was sorry he had done wrong or sorry he had been caught was doubtful.

"So that solves the Mystery of the Queen's Fan," said Colonel Baxter as the young people came into the shop a few moments later. "Old Peter has confessed."

"Colonel Baxter, you don't know what a relief it is," cried Phil. "I got so nervous, being shadowed all the time, that sometimes I wondered if I had stolen it." Phil laughed in a strained manner. "It's a great relief. You know, half the time, I think the girls believed I was guilty."

"Why Phil Gordon! What an idea!" exclaimed Kit Patten. "We all stood by you to a man! Every single moment you were backed by the Merriweather Girls! And you know it!"

"Yes, I guess I do. You are friends worth having, but it all looked so bad for me that I wouldn't have blamed you in the least."

"We didn't doubt you for a single minute!" exclaimed Shirley.

"You should have heard Bet defending you to that dumb detective, Amos Longworth!" cried Joy.

Bet could laugh now as she recalled the conversation. Her relief was great, especially as Colonel Baxter had plead for Peter Gruff and he was to go free, on the promise that he would leave the village and never come back.

As the group left the shop, Bet caught Phil by the arm.

"Phil, I must talk to you alone."

"All right. Let the others go on," suggested the boy. "We'll walk slowly."

Colonel Baxter turned and saw his daughter and knew that she was making a clean breast of her suspicions against her friend. He smiled and spoke to the other girls. "Come on Kit, we'll take you home first. You're the nearest!"

When a short distance was between them, Bet suddenly caught Phil's arm. "Phil, I must tell you that, since Saturday when I found the fan, I thought you had taken it."

Phil stopped short. The color had left his face. "Bet! How could you!" There was a real hurt in his voice. "I thought you knew me better than that."

"I did, Phil. When I finally showed Dad the evidence against you I made him promise not to believe that you did it, even when things looked bad."

"But what was the evidence against me, Bet? I don't understand."

"The fan was wrapped in your handkerchief!"

"Of course it was. I forgot that until this minute. I was afraid the fan would get dirty so I wrapped it in my handkerchief."

"And Phil, I'd have known it was that way, if I hadn't been so terribly worried."

"How did the other girls feel about it when you told them?"

"Oh I wouldn't tell them. I hid the handkerchief. No one knows about it except me and Dad."

"Bet, you're a sport! I like you! Now, forget that you ever blamed me, and don't feel badly about it."

They hurried ahead to catch up with the others and all met at Kit's gate.

"Isn't it a wonderful night!" Bet exclaimed suddenly, looking up into the sky. "Why, I never saw so many stars before! They fairly sing!"

"The singing is in the heart of the Merriweather Girls who have saved the Manor from being sold and have also saved the reputation of their good friend," suggested Colonel Baxter.

"It's good to be alive!" cried Phil.

Then the Colonel hesitated a moment. "You know I am going to reward the Merriweather girls for finding the queen's fan."

"Hooray!" shouted Bet. "What's the reward?"

"We don't need any reward! We're glad we got the fan and found the thief," said Shirley, and Kit and Joy agreed with her.