The Mystery of the Fires

“Oh, I hope not!” exclaimed Mrs. Gay, for her son played a great deal with the Smith boys.

“Tell Freckles to snoop around a bit and keep his eyes and ears open,” suggested Clifford. “Maybe he’ll learn something. He’ll enjoy being a detective.”

Mary Louise smiled; the young man did not know that she had proved herself a very good detective earlier in the summer.

“What does your mother think?” she inquired.

Clifford frowned.

“Mother’s suspicious. She believes there’s been dirty work. Actually thinks the place was set on fire – on purpose! By Ditmar.”

“Ditmar! Who is he? I never heard of him.”

“Probably not. But you soon will. He’s a young architect who used to plan a lot of houses for my father before he died. You know the two new bungalows that were put up here this year – beyond Flicks’?”

“I heard there were two. But we haven’t seen them yet.”

“Well, Ditmar drew plans for them both. And he and his young wife live in one of them.”

“I see. But why would your mother suspect Mr. Ditmar of setting fire to her cottage?” asked Jane.

“That’s easy,” replied Mary Louise. “So Ditmar would get the job of designing a new one! But that seems dreadful. Is this man the criminal type, Cliff?”

The latter shrugged his shoulders.

“How can anybody tell who is the criminal type nowadays, when every day we read in the newspapers about senators and bankers stooping to all sorts of despicable tricks?”

“True,” agreed Jane. “And is your mother going to rebuild?”

“It wouldn’t be Mother – it would be I who would do it,” explained Clifford. “Because Dad left the place to me, and all this land up here at Shady Nook that hasn’t been sold yet. But I don’t expect to do anything for a while. Mother’s comfortable at the Royal, and I don’t mind. Though I do like the people at Shady Nook a lot better.”

“Oh, well, you can come over as much as you like,” said Mary Louise.

“Which is just what I intend to do! And that reminds me, one of the things I came to talk to you about: a swell shindig for Monday night!”

“Oh, what?” gasped Jane in delight.

“A party down on the island. Everybody goes in some kind of boat – naturally – all dressed up. I mean, the boats are to be all dressed up, you understand. With a prize for the best decorated of each kind. Then we’ll have a feed and play games.”

“That’s great!” cried Jane enthusiastically. “What’ll we go in, Mary Lou? The canoe?”

“I thought maybe you girls would come in my motorboat – ”

“And lose the chance of winning a prize?” interrupted Mary Louise. “Thanks just the same, Cliff, but I’ve got an idea already.”

David McCall was coming up the porch steps just in time to hear the refusal, and he grinned broadly. This was just as it should be, he thought, looking possessively at Mary Louise.

Tall and dark and handsome, David McCall was indeed a contrast to Clifford Hunter in appearance. But Jane had already decided that she did not like him. Nobody twenty-two years old had any right to be so serious, even if he had been supporting himself for five years!

Mary Louise was a trifle embarrassed as she greeted him, wondering how he and Cliff would get along together. But Cliff spoke to him cordially.

“Hello, Dave,” he said. “Sit down. I’ve got a brand-new trick. You take a card – ”

Jane giggled. How could anybody help liking a boy like Cliff?

“Don’t let’s waste our time on card tricks,” was David’s reply. “The light’s fading. We ought to be out on the river. Or in it, if you prefer,” he added, addressing Mary Louise.

Clifford, disappointed, put his cards away.

“You can show me all your tricks tomorrow,” whispered Jane sympathetically. “I love them!”

“It’s a date!” exclaimed Cliff eagerly.

Mary Louise stood up, to conceal her nervousness at the sharp way in which David had spoken.

“O.K.,” she said. “Let’s go somewhere. Where?”

“In my motorboat?” suggested Cliff.

Everybody agreed, and the arrangement proved satisfactory, for the boat was large enough for Jane and Cliff to be together at the wheel, and David and Mary Louise off in another corner. Silky sat upright in the middle of the boat, as if he believed he were the chaperon and it was his sacred duty to keep his eye on everybody.

The evening passed pleasantly, for the stars were out, and the breeze over the river delightfully cool, and the boat itself in perfect condition. Even David forgot his grudge against rich young Hunter and under the magic spell of the night joined happily in the singing. Mary Louise, however, insisted that they come home early, for though they hardly realized it, both girls were tired from their long trip.

“It’s been a glorious day!” exclaimed Jane, after the boys had gone home, and the girls were preparing for bed. “I’m crazy about Shady Nook.”

“I think it’s pretty nice myself,” returned the other, with a yawn. “If only poor Cliff’s bungalow hadn’t burned down.”

“Tell me,” urged Jane, “which boy you really like best – Cliff Hunter or David McCall or Max Miller?”

Mary Louise laughed.

“I don’t know. Max, I guess. Now you answer a question for me: Who do you think set the Hunters’ bungalow on fire – Cliff himself, or that Mr. Ditmar, the architect, or the kids?”

“There you go!” cried Jane. “Being a detective instead of a normal girl on her vacation. Who cares, anyhow? It doesn’t hurt anybody but the insurance company, and I guess they can afford it.”

“Oh, but I’d like terribly to know!”

“Well, don’t let’s waste our wonderful month being detectives,” pleaded Jane.

“But it may be important,” Mary Louise pointed out. “If it was done intentionally, there will probably be more fires. Don’t forget – our cottage is next door to Hunters’!”

Jane opened her eyes wide in alarm.

“I never thought of that,” she admitted.

“I’ve got to think of it,” said Mary Louise. “Daddy is trusting me to look after things, and I can’t fall down on my job. Nothing like that must happen.”

“What can you possibly do about it?”

“Investigate, of course.”

“How?”

“I’ll begin by talking to Freckles tomorrow and see whether he’s found out anything from the boys. Then I’ll make it a point to meet Mr. Ditmar – and follow up every clue I can get hold of.”

“You would!” yawned Jane as she crept sleepily into her cot.

CHAPTER III

The Ditmars

“Freckles!” exclaimed Mary Louise as she entered the kitchenette of the bungalow the following morning. “Where are you going?”

The boy grinned mysteriously.

“Can’t tell you that, Sis,” he replied. “It’s a secret.”

“But I wanted to talk to you. And it’s only a little after eight o’clock.”

“I know, but I’m a busy guy. Important affairs!”

“With whom?”

Freckles hesitated; then he decided to tell part of his secret.

“The fellows up here have a secret band. It’s called the ‘Wild Guys of the Road.’ I was initiated last night.”

Mary Louise burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. “The ‘Wild Guys of the Road’!” she repeated. “Regular hold-up men?”

“Well, not exactly,” replied her brother. “But we’ve got some exciting adventures on.”

“Who is the leader?”

“Robby Smith. He’s got some swell ideas.”

Mary Louise’s eyes narrowed.

“Does burning people’s houses come into his plan?”

“Gosh, no! We’re not really bad, Sis. We wouldn’t do anything like that.”

“Do you make fires at all?”

“Sure we make fires. We’ve got to cook our camp meals, haven’t we? And have our ceremonies.”

“I see.” She was thinking. “And sometimes those fires spread farther than you want them to?”

“No, course not! Now, don’t you go blaming us guys for Hunters’ bungalow burning down!”

“I’m not blaming you, Freckles – you weren’t even here. But I’m not so sure about those Smith boys. They are pretty wild, once they get started. Remember the time they locked that little boy in the boathouse and almost left him there all night?”

“Gee whiz, Sis! They wouldn’t have left him there. They just wanted to scare him.”

“I’m not so sure. They’re spoiled kids. I wish you wouldn’t play with them.”

“Now, Sis, don’t be silly! Everybody’s in the gang together. I’ve got to play with the Smith boys or else stay home by myself.”

With a yell of good-bye for his mother, the boy was off.

Mary Louise and Jane sat down to their breakfast. Mrs. Gay, who had eaten hers with Freckles, came in to talk to them.

“What have you on the program for today?” she inquired.

“Oh, the usual things,” answered her daughter. “Tennis with the bunch this morning, and I suppose everybody will go in swimming about eleven o’clock. David is coming over to talk about fixing up our canoe for the contest tomorrow night.”

Jane coughed nervously.

“I – uh – sort of promised Cliff I’d go in his motorboat, Mary Lou,” she said. “Would that be all right?”

“Sure it’s all right,” agreed her chum. “It’ll be even better, because the less weight we have in our canoe, the more decoration we can put on. And there’s a prize for each type of boat, you know.”

“Then I shan’t be competing against you if I go in Cliff’s launch?”

“Oh no, we are in separate classes.”

After the girls had finished washing the dishes for Mrs. Gay, they started off for a little walk, with Silky at their heels.

“Why not stop for the Reed girls?” suggested Jane, mentioning the twins who lived in the cottage on the far side of the Gays. “I’m crazy to meet them.”

“You’ll meet them when we go swimming later on,” replied Mary Louise. “But just now I want to go in the other direction. To call on the Ditmars.”

“The Ditmars?” For the moment Jane had forgotten who these people were, for she had heard so many new names the night before.

“Yes. Don’t you remember? The young architect that Cliff told us about. The man Mrs. Hunter thinks set her bungalow on fire.”

“Oh, yes, of course! In other words – a suspect.”

“That’s right,” agreed Mary Louise.

“But how can we call on him if we don’t know him?” asked Jane.

“We’ll find a way!”

“Oh, sure we will!” teased Jane. “Trust the girl detective for that!”

“Sh! Please don’t call me that in front of anybody, Jane. If people think I am snooping, they’ll shut up like clams and won’t tell me anything.”

Although there were only eight cottages at Shady Nook, the distance from the Reeds’ on one end to the Ditmars’ on the other was over a mile. Cliff’s father, Mr. Hunter, who had planned the little resort, knew that even in a small friendly community like this, people still liked privacy, so he had left a small strip of woods between every two cottages.

The girls walked along slowly, Mary Louise pointing out the bungalows as they passed by.

“That’s where the Hunters’ was, of course,” she said to her chum. “And now we’re coming to the Partridges’. Next is Flicks’ Inn.”

“Yes, I remember this much from last night,” nodded Jane. “But that’s as far as we got. Are there many cottages on the other side of Flicks’?”

“Only the Smiths’ and the two new ones. The Smiths don’t actually live on the river road, and you can’t call their place a cottage. It’s really the grandest house around here. Much bigger than the Hunters’ was. They have three children and a lot of servants. Mr. and Mrs. Smith are usually off traveling somewhere, and even when they’re here, they don’t eat at Flicks’.”

“So we can’t count on them for any fun?”

“No. Freckles plays with the boys, but except for that, we never see them.”

A little farther on, the girls came to the two new bungalows, set right in the heart of the woods. They were both perfectly charming; it was evident that young Mr. Ditmar was an architect with both taste and ideas.

“Don’t you love it?” whispered Jane, as the two girls approached the Ditmars’ rose-trellised bungalow. “It looks like ‘Honeymoon Cottage’ in a jig-saw puzzle!”

“I understand the Ditmars are practically a bride and groom,” returned Mary Louise… “Oh, there she is, in the garden! Pretty, isn’t she?”

An attractive young woman in a pink dress looked up as the girls came nearer. She smiled pleasantly.

“Good-morning,” said Mary Louise. “You are Mrs. Ditmar, aren’t you? Everybody knows everybody else here at Shady Nook, so we’ll introduce ourselves. This is my chum, Jane Patterson, and I’m Mary Louise Gay.”

The young woman nodded cordially.

“I’m awfully glad to meet you both,” she said. “This is a friendly place – I like it a lot. If only my husband did – ”

“Doesn’t Mr. Ditmar like Shady Nook?” asked Mary Louise in surprise.

“No, he doesn’t. But I guess it’s just because he hasn’t enough to do. You know how men are when they haven’t any work: full of gloom.”

“Well, things will be better this fall,” remarked Jane optimistically.

“I don’t know,” replied Mrs. Ditmar. “At least – for architects. Their work comes slowly. It was fine all spring, while Horace had this bungalow to build, and the Robinsons’ next door. But now he can’t get a thing.”

“Maybe the Hunters will rebuild,” suggested Jane openly.

Mrs. Ditmar shook her head.

“We did hope so. We went over to see them at the Royal Hotel soon after their house burned down, but Mrs. Hunter wasn’t very nice to us. She almost acted as if it were our fault!”

Jane suppressed a giggle and muttered under her breath, “The plot thickens.”

“Oh, I guess she was just all upset,” remarked Mary Louise nervously. “She’ll get over that.” She smiled. “Anyway, you don’t have to be gloomy, Mrs. Ditmar. Can’t you get your tennis things on and play with us this morning?”

“Thanks awfully, but I don’t think I had better leave Horace here alone.”

“Bring him along!”

“He wouldn’t come. No, I better not. But perhaps I’ll see you in swimming later on in the morning. It’s awfully nice of you girls to be so friendly.”

“We’ll look for you in the water, then… And, by the way, you’ll come to the party on the island tomorrow night, won’t you?”

Again the young woman refused.

“No, we really can’t afford that. It’s two dollars for the supper, you know, and besides that; we’d have to hire one of Mr. Frazier’s canoes.”

“Couldn’t you borrow one?” suggested Jane.

“No – I’m sorry – Horace refused to go.”

Mary Louise sighed, as if to say how thankful she was that she wasn’t married to a grouch like that. So the girls said good-bye and walked slowly back to their cottage.

“She can’t be over twenty, if she’s that,” surmised Mary Louise. “I certainly feel sorry for her.”

“So do I,” agreed Jane. “Do you really think her husband is guilty, Mary Lou?”

“I don’t know. He sounds queer.” She lowered her voice: there did not appear to be anybody around, but you never could tell, with all those thick trees to conceal possible eavesdroppers. “And if he believes it’s his right to have work, he may try burning other cottages. That’s what worries me.”

“Well, he surely wouldn’t pick on yours, Mary Lou,” was Jane’s comforting assurance. “He’d select somebody’s who was rich – like the Smiths’, or some place that was absolutely necessary, like the Flicks’.”

The girls were passing the inn at this moment, and as they looked up they saw David McCall in his tennis clothes coming out of the door.

“I was over at the bungalow looking for you girls,” he said. “The Reed girls are on the court, but they wouldn’t let me play until I found a partner. So please hurry up!”

“O.K.,” agreed Mary Louise. “Walk back with us, Dave. I want you to tell me why you think Cliff Hunter set his own bungalow on fire – at such an inconvenient time. When they had company, I mean.”

David smiled knowingly.

“That’s his alibi, of course. What did he care about those four fellows? It didn’t hurt them. You see, Mary Lou, I’m an insurance agent, and I’m up to all these tricks. The Hunters’ place was insured for ten thousand dollars, and if it had been offered for sale, Cliff couldn’t have gotten more than a couple thousand at a time like this.”

“But the Hunters are rich,” objected Mary Louise. “They don’t need the money.”

“Everybody needs money. And I happen to know that Cliff wants to go around the world this fall.”

“He wouldn’t give up college?”

“No. There’s a college course in the bargain. They study and travel at the same time. It costs a small fortune.”

“I don’t believe he set that bungalow on fire,” announced Jane. “He’s too honest. He just couldn’t do a thing like that!”

“Besides,” added Mary Louise, “we have another suspect.” And she told David what she had just learned about Horace Ditmar.

“I’m just as sure that Ditmar didn’t do it as you are that Cliff Hunter didn’t,” replied David when she had finished.

“Probably nobody set it on fire,” concluded Jane. “Just an accident. Let’s forget it. Come on in, Mary Lou, and we’ll put on our sneaks. We’ll be ready in a minute, Dave.”

True to their promise, the girls returned a moment later, with Silky at their heels, and all three young people made their way to the tennis court. There was only one court at Shady Nook – which the boys themselves had made – but there was another across the river on the hotel grounds. However, nobody ever seemed to mind waiting or taking turns, so the crowd usually stayed together.

Jane was introduced to the Reed twins, who looked and dressed so exactly alike that she had not the faintest idea which was Mabel and which was Sue after a couple of minutes had elapsed. Then there were three other young people who were staying at the inn for a short time, besides David McCall and themselves. To her dismay, Cliff Hunter did not come across the river to join the party.

The whole crowd went in swimming about eleven o’clock, and here their elders joined them, with some of the younger children. Not Freckles, however, or the Reed boys or the Smiths: they had gone off hiking for the day. Again Jane did not see Cliff Hunter, and she was giving all her attention to a young man named Stuart Robinson, who lived in the new bungalow next to the Ditmars’, when she heard her name shouted from the shore.

“Jane! Oh, Jane!”

Raising her head from her swimming position and treading water, she peered towards the shore. It was Cliff Hunter – but not attired in a bathing suit.

“Come on out!” he called.

Jane swung into the crawl, and reached the young man in a couple of minutes. He was grinning broadly.

“Take a card,” he said.

Jane burst out laughing. “How can I?” she asked. “I’m soaked.”

“Oh, that’s all right. I’ve got plenty of packs. This is a swell trick. I’ve been studying it all morning.”

Jane dropped down on the grass and listened to his trick. The young man was enchanted. She stayed with him until Mary Louise literally dragged her back into the water.

“How anybody could believe Cliff Hunter guilty of a despicable crime,” she said later to her chum, “is beyond me. He’s as innocent as a child.”

“I hope so,” returned Mary Louise. “Time will tell.”

CHAPTER IV

Another Fire

Everybody at Shady Nook worked all day Monday on the decorations for the boats. Everybody, that is, except Mr. and Mrs. Flick and a few of the older people, who were preparing the food for the supper on the little island that night. Jane was helping Clifford Hunter paint pieces of wood which were intended to transform his launch into an auto-giro, and David McCall and Mary Louise picked flowers and leaves all afternoon to make festoons for her canoe.

“I do think Freckles and those other kids might have helped us,” she remarked as she tied on the last cluster of sunflowers.

“Oh, we didn’t need them,” returned David, smiling. He had enjoyed having Mary Louise to himself all afternoon.

“It’s five o’clock now. We’ll have to hurry and wash and dress. Don’t forget supper at Flicks’ is half-past tonight.”

The young man nodded. “I’ll be ready, Mary Lou.”

Mrs. Gay’s voice interrupted them from the inside of the bungalow.

“Has anybody seen Freckles?” she called.

“Not since this morning,” replied her daughter. “I tried to get him to help us, but he said he was off for the day with his gang.”

“Yes, I know that. I gave him some lunch. But he ought to be home by now.”

“He’ll probably be along in a minute.”

But he did not come. David went back to the inn, and Mrs. Gay and the two girls dressed for the picnic, but still Freckles did not appear.

“We can’t go off and leave him without any supper,” said Mrs. Gay. “Because Mrs. Flick is going to close the dining room and lock up at six-thirty.”

“If we could only phone the Smiths,” sighed Mary Louise. “He’s probably over there with the boys… Suppose Jane and I run over?”

“It’s too far. It will make you late for supper.”

“Not very late. We’ll hurry. Come on, Jane. We’ll be back in ten minutes. But you go on down to the inn, Mother, and order the dinner.”

Mrs. Gay nodded, immensely relieved. What a comfort Mary Louise was! You never had to ask her to do anything for you.

The two girls hurried away along the private road beside the river, past the Flicks’ and the Robinsons’, then turned up the hill to the Smiths’ house beyond. It was Jane’s first sight of the imposing-looking place at close range. She exclaimed in admiration.

“What a marvelous house! They must be awfully rich!”

“They are,” replied Mary Louise. “But they don’t appreciate this place a bit. Mr. and Mrs. Smith are hardly ever here at all in the summer. Those two boys just run wild. There’s a nurse to look after the little girl – she’s only four years old – but the boys do pretty much as they please and boss the servants around. That’s why Mother and I feel worried about Freckles when he’s with them.”

A sedate-looking butler answered the girls’ ring at the door.

“No, miss,” was his reply to Mary Louise’s question, “the boys haven’t been here all day.”

“Did they expect to go to the picnic tonight on the island?”

“Yes, miss. Steve, the chauffeur, was to take them.”

Mary Louise sighed. There was nothing she could do.

“Well, if my brother comes back here, will you please send him right over to the inn?” she asked. “And tell him to hurry.”

The girls turned away and started back. “It’s going to spoil Mother’s evening,” remarked Mary Louise disconsolately.

“Oh, he’ll be sure to turn up soon,” returned Jane reassuringly.

“I know, but even if he does, he won’t be able to get to the island. All the boats at Shady Nook are being used. Even the rowboats. Everybody’s going except the Ditmars.”

“Poor Adelaide Ditmar!” sighed Jane. “Imagine missing all that fun just because of a grouchy husband! I’m glad I’m single.”

Mary Louise laughed.

“All men aren’t alike, Jane. You know Cliff Hunter would never miss any fun. Or Max or Norman,” she added, mentioning their two best friends in Riverside.

Mrs. Gay looked up hopefully as the girls entered the inn, but her expression changed immediately. She could tell from their faces that they had not been successful.

After supper was over, all was bustle and excitement as the people got into the boats and pushed them out into the river. There were six canoes, four rowboats, and three motorboats, all decorated beautifully or fantastically, according to the taste of the owners. Three prizes were to be awarded for the cleverest boat of each type, and everybody was to vote on the style in which he or she was not competing. Mary Louise and David McCall stepped into their flower-covered canoe; Mrs. Gay joined the Partridges in a rowboat, and Jane waited for Cliff Hunter’s motorboat to come puffing across the river. It arrived at the same time as the Fraziers’ rather seedy launch, and Jane was introduced to them and to Mrs. Hunter.

“You’ll walk away with the motorboat prize, Cliff,” called Mary Louise to the young man at the wheel. She lowered her voice. “Poor old Frazier’s launch is pathetic, and Stuart Robinson’s is just funny!”

“I hope the prize is a deck of cards,” returned Cliff. “Mine are wearing out.”

Mary Louise laughed and dipped her paddle into the water. Her canoe did look pretty, and it was a heavenly night. If only Freckles were there!

The boats began to move off, the launches puffing ahead, the canoes gliding gently behind them, and the rowboats progressing more ponderously. Somebody began to play a ukulele, and gay voices took up the tune.

The island, a small oblong strip of land, was situated about two miles down the river from Shady Nook. Several years ago someone at the resort had discovered it, and everybody had taken a hand at fixing it up for picnic purposes. There was a glorious stone fireplace, and a large spot had been cleared for dancing and games. Seats had been scattered about, and a couple of board tables had been erected near the fireplace. Tonight the whole island was alight with Japanese lanterns, giving it a gay and festive air.