The Mystery of the Fires

“O.K., Jane,” agreed the boy. “I’ll be with you as soon as I can dress.”

The two young people worked fast: at six o’clock, when Mrs. Gay drove back from the fair, they had the meal on the table.

“It certainly smells good, girls!” she exclaimed as she came through the kitchen door from the garage.

“Girls nothing!” retorted Freckles. “You mean ‘girl and boy,’ Mother. I did a lot of work for this meal.”

“That’s fine, dear,” replied Mrs. Gay. “But where’s Mary Lou?”

“She went over to Adams’ farm to see Hattie,” answered Jane. “And she hasn’t come back yet.”

“In all this heat? Oh, that’s too bad! She should have waited till I got home with the car. I didn’t know she was going.”

“She wasn’t sure of it herself. She was hoping to find Hattie over at the hotel. But evidently she didn’t, for she didn’t wait to play any tennis.”

“Well, I guess she’ll be along soon,” remarked Mrs. Gay cheerfully. “We’ll keep a plate hot for her. But let’s eat. We’re all hungry, and this food is too good to spoil by drying up.”

The meal passed off pleasantly; nobody thought of being worried by Mary Louise’s absence. But as the minutes went by and she did not come, Freckles was the first to become anxious. For he remembered the threat to the Ditmars on that coarse piece of paper that morning, and he knew that Mary Louise was involved in that same business.

When seven o’clock struck and still his sister had not put in an appearance, he suggested that his mother take the car and drive over to Adams’.

“It’s such a lonely road up to that farm,” he explained, “that if Mary Lou had sprained her ankle or hurt herself on the way, nobody might pass by for hours to give her help.”

Mrs. Gay was startled. It had not occurred to her that anything might have happened to her daughter. Mary Louise was always so self-reliant, and Shady Nook was such a safe place.

“You two people go,” said Jane. “I’ll stay here and wash the dishes. I want to squeeze some lemons, because some of the bunch are coming over here tonight – if that’s all right with you, Mrs. Gay.”

“Certainly it’s all right, dear. And Mary Lou will be delighted, too – I’m sure.”

Mrs. Gay backed the car out of the garage with Freckles in the seat beside her and drove slowly up the dirt road which led to Adams’ farm. The boy kept a sharp watch on both sides of the road, to make sure that his sister was not lying helpless along the way. Twice his mother stopped the car; and they both called Mary Louise’s name. But there was no response.

“She may just have stayed for supper with Hattie,” remarked Mrs. Gay. “And of course, since neither of us has a telephone, she couldn’t let us know. She’d think we wouldn’t worry so long as she got home before dark.”

“Oh, sure,” muttered the boy. But he was anxious: his mother didn’t know what had happened that morning.

They reached the Adams’ gate at last and got out of the car. Old Mr. Adams was sitting alone on the porch with one leg propped up on a chair.

“Good-evening, Mr. Adams,” began Mrs. Gay. “Is Mary Louise here? I’m her mother.”

“No, she ain’t,” replied the old man, taking the pipe out of his mouth.

“Has she been here?”

“Not as I know of. Hattie and I have been to the fair all afternoon. If your daughter was here, she must have turned right around and gone home again. Nobody was home all afternoon except poor Rebecca. And she’s sick abed.”

A feeling of alarm crept over Mrs. Gay. What could have happened to Mary Louise?

“Was Tom home?” demanded Freckles, remembering his sister’s warning.

“Don’t reckon so. He was workin’ over to the hotel today, after he helped our hired man this mornin’.”

“Is he here now? Could we ask him?”

The old man shook his head.

“Tom packed up and left tonight, right after supper. Hattie drove him down to the Junction to catch the train. He’s got a friend out West somewhere who owns a ranch. So Tom decided all of a sudden to go there. I tried to stop him, for we need him here, as I’m all crippled up with rheumatism half the time. But he wouldn’t listen to me. Pig-headed, that’s what I call it!”

Freckles’ eyes opened wide with terror. It sounded as if Mary Louise had been right in assuming Tom’s guilt in connection with the fires at Shady Nook. Running away proved it! But what had he done to Mary Lou first?

“Could we talk to Rebecca?” inquired Mrs. Gay.

“Sure,” agreed Mr. Adams. “But it probably won’t do no good. She can’t remember things straight, you know.”

“She might remember seeing Mary Louise, if she had stopped in,” replied Mrs. Gay. “Anyhow, it’s worth trying.”

“Go right up,” said the old man. “Room at the back of the house. You won’t have no trouble finding it. Sorry I can’t go with you, but my leg’s pretty bad tonight.”

“Oh, that’s all right!” responded Mrs. Gay. “I’ll find the way by myself. You better stay here, Freckles.”

The boy looked disappointed; he would have liked to take another look at that queer creature and size her up for himself. Maybe she had done something to Mary Lou! But he sat down on the steps as his mother advised and waited patiently.

Mrs. Gay hurried on up to Rebecca’s room, and found the woman in bed, as she had expected, with her tangled gray hair spread over the pillows. She stared blankly at her visitor.

“I am Mary Louise’s mother, Rebecca,” announced Mrs. Gay. “You remember Mary Louise? The girl who saved the Smith baby in the fire?”

The woman nodded. “Yes, I know Mary Louise. She came to see me today. Got me a drink of water. It wasn’t well water, but it tasted good. She is a fine girl. I like Mary Louise.”

“What time was she here?”

“I don’t know. I can’t tell time. It’s all the same to me – except day and night. She was here in daytime.”

Mrs. Gay sighed.

“Where was she going after she left you?” she asked. “Did she happen to say?”

“No, she didn’t… I heard a car outside – I think it was my brother Tom’s. But I don’t know if Mary Louise had gone before that or not. I can’t remember.” Her voice trailed off as if she were half dreaming. “She said she’d look for well water for me, because I’m sick. She said she’d come again. Oh, Mary Louise is a good girl.”

Mrs. Gay walked to the doorway. There was nothing more to be learned from Rebecca. She wasn’t even sure that the woman knew what she was talking about.

If only she could talk to the brother! But it was too late now; the only thing to do was to wait for Hattie to return from the Junction and see whether she had any news.

“Rebecca says that Mary Louise was here this afternoon,” she told Mr. Adams and Freckles when she returned to the porch.

“I’m afraid that don’t mean nothin’,” remarked the old man. “Like as not, Rebecca’s confusing today with yesterday or even last week. She ain’t got no memory at all.”

“Do you think Hattie will be back soon?”

“I reckon so. Sounds like the Ford now, at the bottom of the hill. But she was away all afternoon, you recollect, at the fair.”

“I know,” agreed Mrs. Gay. “But Rebecca seems to remember a car arriving about the time Mary Louise left, and she thought it was your son’s. So maybe he saw Mary Louise and mentioned it to Hattie.”

Freckles’ heart stood still at these words. Tom Adams, with a car! What had he done to Mary Lou?

But he did not say anything; he waited for Hattie Adams to drive her car into the garage.

In another moment the girl appeared on the porch and nodded pleasantly to Mrs. Gay and Freckles.

“Where’s Mary Lou?” she inquired immediately.

“That’s just what we want to know!” cried Freckles. “She’s – lost! Did Tom say anything about seeing her?”

“No, he didn’t. He never mentioned her. Why?”

Mrs. Gay explained again what Rebecca had said, but Hattie was just as doubtful as her father had been about the veracity of any of Rebecca’s statements.

“I wouldn’t go by that,” she said. “But Mary Lou may be home by this time, waiting for you. Don’t worry till you find out.”

This sounded like good advice, so Mrs. Gay and Freckles got into their car and drove as quickly as possible back to Shady Nook. Jane, the Reed twins, Stuart Robinson, and the four new boys were all waiting anxiously on the Gays’ porch. But Mrs. Gay knew immediately from their expressions that Mary Louise had not returned.

“Get the boys together at once, Freckles,” commanded Stuart Robinson, “and we’ll search the woods thoroughly. Two of you fellows paddle across to the island, and two more go over to the hotel and hunt around there. Mary Lou may have sprained her ankle somewhere and be waiting for help.”

Mrs. Gay went inside the cottage, into her bedroom, and sat down, making a desperate effort to control her fears. But she couldn’t help thinking of all the dreadful stories she had read in the newspapers – stories of kidnaping and sudden death. Oh, if only her husband were here!

She picked up his last letter from the bureau. He was in Cleveland now and hoped to be with them soon. Soon! She must have him immediately. She remembered the promise she had given him when they said good-bye – to send for him if she needed him. Yes, she would wire tonight! She’d paddle across the river to the hotel and send a telegram over the phone.

Coming out of the door again she almost ran into Horace Ditmar, with Freckles beside him.

“We’re afraid this is serious, Mrs. Gay,” he said. “Freckles said Mary Louise suspected Tom Adams of starting the fires at Shady Nook and writing us a threat, which we found under our door this morning. And now your boy tells me that Tom Adams has run away… So we’re afraid that he may have done something to Mary Louise.”

“Oh no!” cried Mrs. Gay, aghast. “Oh, it just isn’t possible!”

“But it is, Mother,” said the boy. “And Mr. Ditmar thinks we should send for the police immediately. He’ll go over to the hotel and send a wire now.”

Mrs. Gay sank unsteadily into a chair. For an instant she thought she was going to faint. But she made a desperate effort to control herself; she realized that she needed all her powers in this terrible emergency.

“Yes, go, Mr. Ditmar,” she said. “And telegraph to my husband at the same time.” She scribbled a message on the envelope with Mr. Gay’s address and handed it to the young man.

Mr. Ditmar left immediately, and Freckles brought his mother a glass of water. She drank it gratefully.

“Here comes Mrs. Reed,” he announced cheerfully. “Have her stay with you while I join the boys, Mother,” he said, bending down and kissing her. “For I can’t leave you alone.” In these last two hours the boy had suddenly seemed to grow up. His mother realized the fact, and, in spite of her trouble, she was grateful and proud.

“I’ll be all right, dear,” she replied. “And you go along. Mary Lou knows your whistle better than anything else, and if she is somewhere in the woods, you’ll surely find her… Go, dear!”

Freckles ran off, and a systematic search of all the country around Shady Nook began: with lanterns and flashlights and whistles, interspersed by frequent calls from the boys and girls. But as the darkness grew deeper and the silence of the woods more intense, an increasing sense of alarm took hold of all the searchers. Joking and laughter ceased; the only singing that broke out was forced, because someone thought it might help find Mary Louise. But it was all in vain.

Midnight came, and the various groups made their way back to Shady Nook, tired, hungry, and disheartened. Mrs. Gay and Mr. and Mrs. Reed and the three Partridge women were all still sitting on the Gays’ porch, hopefully waiting for news. But they knew from the slow, silent manner of the young people’s return that they had not been successful.

“Make us some coffee, and we’ll begin all over again,” said Stuart Robinson. “Mary Lou must be somewhere!”

Mrs. Gay shook her head.

“No, I think you better all go to bed. The children must have their sleep. In the morning the police will come. Perhaps they will have some news for us.”

“If only we hadn’t let Tom Adams get away from us!” muttered Horace Ditmar. “We went back to Adams’ and got the old man out of bed to try to learn Tom’s address. But he said he didn’t know it, and I’m inclined to believe he was speaking the truth.”

Even in her half-frenzied state, Mrs. Gay looked at the young architect and thought what an admirable man he was. How anyone could have thought him guilty of any crime was more than she could understand. He was more help to her in the crisis than anyone else – except Freckles.

So, accepting Mrs. Gay’s advice, the group dispersed to their own cottages, intending to continue the search the following morning.

CHAPTER XV

Captive

Mary Louise was not far away from Shady Nook in the matter of miles, but she felt as if she were worlds away. Everything was strangely different from anything she had ever known – grotesque and terrible. For the place she was taken to was an asylum for the insane!

Little did she think as she entered the Adams’ farmhouse that afternoon that her freedom was to be snatched from her. That she was to be held in hopeless captivity, without any means of communication with the outside world. A prisoner in a house that was far worse than a jail, enduring a life that was living death!

When no one answered her knock at the Adams’ door that afternoon, she opened the screen and walked in, calling first Hattie and then Rebecca by name. Finally the latter replied.

“I’m up here, sick abed!” called the woman. “Who be you?”

“It’s Mary Louise,” she answered. “May I come up and see you, Rebecca?”

“Yes, yes. Come! Have you found a well of clear water?”

Mary Louise laughed to herself as she ran up the stairs. She wished that she could find some well water for the poor deluded woman, but there was none in the vicinity. She wondered what Rebecca would do if she ever did discover a well.

She entered the bedroom, smiling and shaking her head at the poor eager creature.

“No, Rebecca – not yet. But I’ll find you one some day. How are you feeling?”

“I’m better. I want to get out soon. Will you get me a drink of water, Mary Louise?”

“Certainly,” replied the girl. “From the kitchen?”

“Yes. From the kitchen.”

The woman sank back on her pillow, and Mary Louise went for the water. When she returned, Rebecca was half asleep.

“Here’s your water, Rebecca,” she said. “But where is Hattie?”

“I don’t know. Gone away, I guess. They’ve all gone away… Soon I’ll go too…” Her voice trailed off as if she were half dreaming, and Mary Louise walked to the door. She heard the sound of a car in the driveway below, and hoping that it might be Hattie, she went down the stairs.

But the car standing in front of the house was not the dilapidated Ford that belonged to the Adams family. It was a big black limousine which reminded Mary Louise of a hearse or a funeral carriage, and she shuddered. It might have been an ambulance, but ambulances were usually white. She wondered what a car like that could be doing at the Adams farm.

Two men got down from the driver’s seat in front, and Tom Adams came and joined them at the porch steps. They talked in low tones to each other. Mary Louise opened the screen door and came out on the porch. Suddenly she heard her own name mentioned, and a cold chill of horror crept up her spine. What were they planning to do to her?

“She says she’s Mary Louise Gay,” remarked Tom. “Insists on it. And she does look like a girl by that name. But don’t believe her. She’s my sister Rebecca.” He raised his eyes and looked straight at Mary Louise. “Hello, Rebecca!” he said. “We’re going to take you for a ride!”

Mary Louise’s brown eyes flashed in anger.

“Rebecca’s upstairs, sick in bed,” she retorted. “Go and see for yourselves.”

Suddenly, with the agility of panthers, the two men sprang forward and grabbed Mary Louise’s wrists.

“Come along, Rebecca,” one of them said. “No use struggling. We’re taking you to a nice farm.”

With a desperate effort to free herself from the men’s grasp, Mary Louise kicked one of her captors in the leg. He let go of her hand, but the other man held her tightly.

“Wild little beast,” he remarked. “Now, sister, you take it easy. We ain’t going to hurt you. You’ll like it where you’re going – you’ll get better care than you do here. Your brother says there’s nobody here to look after you now that your mother’s gone.”

“He’s not my brother!” shouted Mary Louise. “And I can prove it! Just drive down to Shady Nook – a couple of miles – and ask anybody!”

But the men preferred to ignore this challenge; they picked Mary Louise up bodily and thrust her into the back of the limousine, shutting the door and turning the key in the lock!

She found herself sitting on a long seat that ran the length of the car. There were no windows on the side; only two tiny oval glasses in the back door permitted a little light to enter the enclosure. Before she could utter another sound she heard the engine start, and the vehicle went into motion. Over the rough, stony driveway, onto the dirt road that led away from the farm, in the opposite direction from Shady Nook.

Mary Louise’s first impulse was to scream as loudly as she could in the hope of attracting the notice of the occupants of some passing car or of some farmer working in his field. But second consideration told her that such a proceeding would do her no good at all. As soon as those men in the front seat explained that she was a crazy person being taken to an insane asylum, nobody would believe anything she said.

The realization of this fact brought a deathly hopelessness to her whole body. Her arms and legs felt inert, her head sank back against the cushion as if her very spirit were flowing away. Leaving her helpless – and finished with life.

For perhaps ten minutes she sat thus, unmindful of the country through which she was being driven. As if she had been stunned by a physical blow and no aid were near.

Then suddenly she thought of Tom Adams, and a fierce anger took possession of her, reviving her spirits, bringing her back to life. She would not give up! She would fight to the bitter end; she’d make him pay – and pay heavily – for his diabolical cruelty!

She moved along the seat to the far end of the car and peered through the tiny window. The road over which they were passing was narrow and rough; the country unfamiliar. It was not a main highway, Mary Louise instantly concluded, and she wondered in which direction it lay from Shady Nook. She wished now that she had watched it from the beginning. She did not even know whether they had crossed the river or not.

“Still, I suppose that doesn’t really matter,” she thought. “Because, if I can manage to get away at all, I can easily find my family. They’ll be hunting for me.” Tears of distress came to her eyes as she pictured her mother’s anguish. And her father was so far away!

“Why did I ever try to be a detective?” she groaned. “The punishment is too horrible. Mother and Daddy would rather lose their cottage and have the whole settlement at Shady Nook burned than have me endure torture like this!”

On and on they went through the lonely, unpopulated country. Time seemed to stand still; it was as if the afternoon were to last forever. Yet when Mary Louise glanced at her wristwatch she saw that it was not yet five o’clock!

They crossed over a little stream, and the car turned at an angle and climbed a hill. Up, up they went, until they reached a narrow road at the summit. Looking down into the valley below Mary Louise could see a stream – not as wide as the river – winding its peaceful way in the summer sunshine. It was a beautiful spot – if you could enjoy beauty. But it meant nothing at all to the unhappy girl.

“That looks like a main road across the valley on the opposite side of the stream,” she thought. “If I can escape, I’ll make for that. Thank goodness I know how to swim!”

She wished that she had thought to glance at her watch when the car started, so that she could roughly judge the distance from Shady Nook by the time it took to cover it. But she had been so miserable that she could not tell whether she had been riding twenty minutes or a couple of hours.

At last, however, the car came to a stop at a high iron gate which reminded Mary Louise of a penitentiary. So this was the way they guarded feeble-minded people!

One of the men got down from his seat, took a key from his pocket to unlock the gate, and swung the heavy iron doors open. When the car had gone through he locked them securely behind him.

A shiver of horror passed over Mary Louise as she heard that final click. A sense of hopelessness overpowered her to such an intense degree that she felt physically sick. A life of utter emptiness was closing her in, as if her mind and her soul had been extracted from her body. How much more fiendish her existence would be than that of any ordinary victim of kidnapers! But then, Tom Adams had not kidnaped her because he wanted a ransom, but only because he desired to get rid of her. Well, he had succeeded! Nobody in the whole world would think of looking for her in an insane asylum.

The car wound around a lovely driveway, shaded by trees, and stopped in front of a long, low plaster building that appeared to be at least a hundred years old. A man and a woman came out of the ivy-covered door as the driver unlocked the back of the limousine.

With her head held high in defiance, Mary Louise stepped out.

“How do you do, Rebecca,” greeted the woman, a plain-faced person of about fifty, in a gray dress.

“There has been a ghastly mistake!” announced Mary Louise, trying to keep her tone dignified. “Tom Adams is a criminal, and because I found him out he has sent me here, calling me his feeble-minded sister. I am not Rebecca Adams – but Mary Louise Gay!”

The man and the woman exchanged significant glances.

“Mr. Adams warned us that you would say that,” replied the man. “He said you do look like a girl named Mary Louise Gay. But try to forget it, Rebecca. We have your papers, signed by your own brother and your cousin, so there is nothing you can do about it but submit.”

“My cousin!” repeated Mary Louise, thinking of her aunt’s children, aged nine and six. How could they commit anybody to an insane asylum?

“Yes. Stanfield Frazier.”

“Frazier!” she cried in scorn. “He’s not my cousin! He’s no relation. He’s a crook too, like Tom Adams.”

“Now, now, Rebecca, calm yourself,” advised the woman, taking Mary Louise’s arm. “And just come along with me. You don’t want to make trouble! Wouldn’t you rather walk by yourself than have these men carry you?”

Tears of anguish came to the girl’s eyes; she looked desperately about at the group of people who were surrounding her, searching for some spark of sympathy or understanding. But the men were all regarding her with an amused expression of tolerance, as if her action were just what they had expected.

“Isn’t there some way I can prove that I’m sane?” she demanded. “Some test I can take?”

“Oh, don’t get yourself all worked up, Rebecca,” answered the woman. “Your brother told us you were all right most of the time and that you probably wouldn’t give us any trouble. We’re not going to put you into chains. You’ll like it here.”

Mary Louise groaned. There was nothing she could do or say so long as they believed that wicked Tom Adams.

So she meekly followed the woman into the house. Its large hall and big reception room were plain and old-fashioned, with very little furniture in them, but she noticed that everything was scrupulously neat and clean. For that much she was thankful. Often, she had read, the places where kidnapers confined their victims were filthy and germ laden. She need have no fear of disease here – except disease of the mind!

A younger woman in the white uniform of a nurse came into the hall to meet them.

“This is Miss Stone, Rebecca,” announced the older woman. “She will help you and take care of you. Now go with Miss Stone to your room.”

“Didn’t you bring any bag, Rebecca?” asked the nurse, as she led Mary Louise up a flight of stairs to a long corridor.

Mary Louise smiled grimly.

“Kidnapers don’t usually allow their victims time to pack their suitcases,” she said. “And if you don’t mind, Miss Stone, will you call me by my right name? It’s Mary Louise Gay.”

The young woman nodded solemnly.

“Certainly, Mary Louise,” she replied.