CHAPTER XXI—MORE MYSTERYBillie Bradley turned cold all over. To have brought Polly Haddon here—to have practically promised her a fortune—and then to find—nothing!“Billie! They’re gone!” said a voice at her elbow, and she turned sharply to find Laura and Vi peering inquisitively over her shoulder.“I know they’re gone,” she cried, almost sobbing in her rage and disappointment “Oh, girls, what, can we do? We can’t tell Mrs. Haddon——”“What’s this you can’t tell me?” asked Polly Haddon herself, and Billie looked at the woman miserably.“The model,” she said, her voice almost inaudible. “It was here yesterday, and now it’s gone.”“Gone!” cried Miss Walters sharply. “How can that be? Is it possible that somebody else is in the habit of visiting this tower?”But Mrs. Haddon pushed her aside.“Do you mean that the model is gone—again—after bringing me here?” she cried wildly. “Oh, you could not be so cruel, you could not!” The last word caught in a sob, and Miss Walters put an arm about her compassionately.“Listen to me a moment,” she said, in a gentle voice of authority. “If the girls are certain that the machinery and the blueprints were here as late as yesterday——”“Oh, we are, we are!” cried Billie eagerly.“Then whoever has taken them since could not have got very far away with them in this short time,” she went on reassuringly. “Your husband’s invention—if indeed it was his model the girls found here—must still be in this neighborhood, perhaps in this very building. Though who,” she added thoughtfully, “in this place could wish to steal such a thing is indeed a mystery.”“Oh, Miss Walters!” cried Billie eagerly, “I’m sure nobody here in the Hall has stolen the invention. Nobody would have any use for it, and besides, it isn’t a thing that could be hidden very easily.”Suddenly Laura had what she thought was a bright idea.“Maybe somebody stole it who had a grudge against Mrs. Haddon,” she suggested.Miss Walters looked inquiringly at the woman who had drawn away from her embrace and was wiping her eyes resignedly.“Is there any one you know of who might hold a grudge against your family?” Miss Walters asked.Mrs. Haddon went over to one of the dust-begrimed windows and stood there for a moment looking out, her fingers tapping a restless tattoo on the windowpane. Then she slowly shook her head.“No, I can’t think of any one,” she said, adding bitterly: “We were too poor and unimportant to make enemies of any one. But what does it matter?” She turned quickly from the window with one of her fierce changes of mood. “The invention is gone. I was a fool to think that any good fortune would ever come to me. Let me go home.”She brushed fiercely past Miss Walters, but the latter put out a gentle hand and detained her.“Wait a little,” she begged. Her heart ached for the other woman’s suffering. “Come into my office with me while I make inquiries and find out if any suspicious person has been seen about here lately. I am confident,” she added with an assurance that reached the other woman, “that before long we shall be able to recover your property. Will you trust me and believe that I want to help you?”“Yes,” said Polly Haddon, faint hope once more stirring in her heart. “You are more than kind to me.”With what different emotions the classmates left the tower room from those with which they had entered it so hopefully only a few minutes before.The girls supposed that now that Miss Walters had taken charge of Mrs. Haddon’s affairs, they would have no further interest in the matter. But, to their surprise and gratification, Miss Walters motioned them into her office also.Then she summoned the teachers to her one after another and questioned them carefully as to whom, if anybody, had been seen around Three Towers since the afternoon before.Through it all Mrs. Haddon sat with an expression of utter hopelessness on her face. Evidently the faint hope that Miss Walters had for the moment revived had died away again.It seemed that none of the teachers had seen anything that might arouse suspicion, and even the girls were beginning to despair when they were at last given a clue to work on.It was Miss Arbuckle who gave it to them.She showed considerable surprise at first at being questioned. But after wrinkling her forehead thoughtfully for a few minutes she remembered having seen somebody loitering about the building late on the preceding afternoon.“Could you identify the person?” asked Miss Walters quickly, alert at once.“No,” said Miss Arbuckle, hesitantly, “I couldn’t be at all certain because it was dusk and I saw him only from the window. But it looked like that simple son of Tim Budd, the gardener.”“Nick Budd!” cried the three girls together, and at the name Polly Haddon also roused from her reverie.“You could not say certainly that it was Nick Budd?” said Miss Walters, questioningly.“No, I couldn’t,” returned Miss Arbuckle. “But I remember thinking at the time that the fellow was acting in a rather peculiar manner, and I even thought of reporting him. I was called away by some duties then, however, and when I looked from the window again he was gone.”“Nick Budd!” cried Polly Haddon, in an agitated tone, her hands clasping and unclasping in her lap. “You asked a while ago if there was anybody who might bear a grudge against my family, and I said there was no one. But I had forgotten poor foolish Nick Budd!”“Yes, Mrs. Haddon?” prompted Miss Walters, while the girls exchanged excited glances.“At one time my husband employed him as a handy man about the place,” the woman hurried on. “But after a while we noticed that things began to disappear—things that were worthless to any one else, but dear to us because of their associations.”The girls and Miss Walters were intensely interested now. They were thinking of the numerous petty thefts that had taken place in the Hall during the past few weeks. Could there be any connection between that and Polly Haddon’s story?“My husband charged the simpleton with taking the things,” the woman went on. “He did it gently enough, too, for he was sorry for the poor fellow, but Nick fell into one of his rages and slammed out of the house, muttering to himself. He never came back, and we never saw him again.”“Then this boy did have some reason for wishing to get even with your husband,” said Miss Walters, all interest. “It begins to look as if he were the one who stole your invention in the first place. And if this was really Nick Budd whom Miss Arbuckle saw loitering about the school yesterday, it is probable he had something to do with its second disappearance——” she broke off suddenly, for Polly Haddon had risen to her feet.The girls thought they had never seen such a picture of concentrated fury. She stood clutching the back of a chair fiercely and her eyes flashed fire.“If it is proved that Nick Budd did this thing,” she said in a low, tense voice, “I think I shall—shall——”“But you must remember that he is a simpleton and not accountable as sane people are,” put in Miss Walters hastily; but apparently the woman did not hear her.“We must catch Nick Budd and make him confess,” she said impatiently: “Then perhaps we shall find out where he has hidden my property.”“Miss Walters!” cried Billie excitedly, jumping up, and walking over to the principal, “I think I know where we can find everything that Nick Budd has ever stolen.”“What do you mean?” asked Miss Walters. “Speak quickly, Billie.”“In Nick Budd’s cave!” cried Billie, triumphantly.
CHAPTER XXI—MORE MYSTERYBillie Bradley turned cold all over. To have brought Polly Haddon here—to have practically promised her a fortune—and then to find—nothing!“Billie! They’re gone!” said a voice at her elbow, and she turned sharply to find Laura and Vi peering inquisitively over her shoulder.“I know they’re gone,” she cried, almost sobbing in her rage and disappointment “Oh, girls, what, can we do? We can’t tell Mrs. Haddon——”“What’s this you can’t tell me?” asked Polly Haddon herself, and Billie looked at the woman miserably.“The model,” she said, her voice almost inaudible. “It was here yesterday, and now it’s gone.”“Gone!” cried Miss Walters sharply. “How can that be? Is it possible that somebody else is in the habit of visiting this tower?”But Mrs. Haddon pushed her aside.“Do you mean that the model is gone—again—after bringing me here?” she cried wildly. “Oh, you could not be so cruel, you could not!” The last word caught in a sob, and Miss Walters put an arm about her compassionately.“Listen to me a moment,” she said, in a gentle voice of authority. “If the girls are certain that the machinery and the blueprints were here as late as yesterday——”“Oh, we are, we are!” cried Billie eagerly.“Then whoever has taken them since could not have got very far away with them in this short time,” she went on reassuringly. “Your husband’s invention—if indeed it was his model the girls found here—must still be in this neighborhood, perhaps in this very building. Though who,” she added thoughtfully, “in this place could wish to steal such a thing is indeed a mystery.”“Oh, Miss Walters!” cried Billie eagerly, “I’m sure nobody here in the Hall has stolen the invention. Nobody would have any use for it, and besides, it isn’t a thing that could be hidden very easily.”Suddenly Laura had what she thought was a bright idea.“Maybe somebody stole it who had a grudge against Mrs. Haddon,” she suggested.Miss Walters looked inquiringly at the woman who had drawn away from her embrace and was wiping her eyes resignedly.“Is there any one you know of who might hold a grudge against your family?” Miss Walters asked.Mrs. Haddon went over to one of the dust-begrimed windows and stood there for a moment looking out, her fingers tapping a restless tattoo on the windowpane. Then she slowly shook her head.“No, I can’t think of any one,” she said, adding bitterly: “We were too poor and unimportant to make enemies of any one. But what does it matter?” She turned quickly from the window with one of her fierce changes of mood. “The invention is gone. I was a fool to think that any good fortune would ever come to me. Let me go home.”She brushed fiercely past Miss Walters, but the latter put out a gentle hand and detained her.“Wait a little,” she begged. Her heart ached for the other woman’s suffering. “Come into my office with me while I make inquiries and find out if any suspicious person has been seen about here lately. I am confident,” she added with an assurance that reached the other woman, “that before long we shall be able to recover your property. Will you trust me and believe that I want to help you?”“Yes,” said Polly Haddon, faint hope once more stirring in her heart. “You are more than kind to me.”With what different emotions the classmates left the tower room from those with which they had entered it so hopefully only a few minutes before.The girls supposed that now that Miss Walters had taken charge of Mrs. Haddon’s affairs, they would have no further interest in the matter. But, to their surprise and gratification, Miss Walters motioned them into her office also.Then she summoned the teachers to her one after another and questioned them carefully as to whom, if anybody, had been seen around Three Towers since the afternoon before.Through it all Mrs. Haddon sat with an expression of utter hopelessness on her face. Evidently the faint hope that Miss Walters had for the moment revived had died away again.It seemed that none of the teachers had seen anything that might arouse suspicion, and even the girls were beginning to despair when they were at last given a clue to work on.It was Miss Arbuckle who gave it to them.She showed considerable surprise at first at being questioned. But after wrinkling her forehead thoughtfully for a few minutes she remembered having seen somebody loitering about the building late on the preceding afternoon.“Could you identify the person?” asked Miss Walters quickly, alert at once.“No,” said Miss Arbuckle, hesitantly, “I couldn’t be at all certain because it was dusk and I saw him only from the window. But it looked like that simple son of Tim Budd, the gardener.”“Nick Budd!” cried the three girls together, and at the name Polly Haddon also roused from her reverie.“You could not say certainly that it was Nick Budd?” said Miss Walters, questioningly.“No, I couldn’t,” returned Miss Arbuckle. “But I remember thinking at the time that the fellow was acting in a rather peculiar manner, and I even thought of reporting him. I was called away by some duties then, however, and when I looked from the window again he was gone.”“Nick Budd!” cried Polly Haddon, in an agitated tone, her hands clasping and unclasping in her lap. “You asked a while ago if there was anybody who might bear a grudge against my family, and I said there was no one. But I had forgotten poor foolish Nick Budd!”“Yes, Mrs. Haddon?” prompted Miss Walters, while the girls exchanged excited glances.“At one time my husband employed him as a handy man about the place,” the woman hurried on. “But after a while we noticed that things began to disappear—things that were worthless to any one else, but dear to us because of their associations.”The girls and Miss Walters were intensely interested now. They were thinking of the numerous petty thefts that had taken place in the Hall during the past few weeks. Could there be any connection between that and Polly Haddon’s story?“My husband charged the simpleton with taking the things,” the woman went on. “He did it gently enough, too, for he was sorry for the poor fellow, but Nick fell into one of his rages and slammed out of the house, muttering to himself. He never came back, and we never saw him again.”“Then this boy did have some reason for wishing to get even with your husband,” said Miss Walters, all interest. “It begins to look as if he were the one who stole your invention in the first place. And if this was really Nick Budd whom Miss Arbuckle saw loitering about the school yesterday, it is probable he had something to do with its second disappearance——” she broke off suddenly, for Polly Haddon had risen to her feet.The girls thought they had never seen such a picture of concentrated fury. She stood clutching the back of a chair fiercely and her eyes flashed fire.“If it is proved that Nick Budd did this thing,” she said in a low, tense voice, “I think I shall—shall——”“But you must remember that he is a simpleton and not accountable as sane people are,” put in Miss Walters hastily; but apparently the woman did not hear her.“We must catch Nick Budd and make him confess,” she said impatiently: “Then perhaps we shall find out where he has hidden my property.”“Miss Walters!” cried Billie excitedly, jumping up, and walking over to the principal, “I think I know where we can find everything that Nick Budd has ever stolen.”“What do you mean?” asked Miss Walters. “Speak quickly, Billie.”“In Nick Budd’s cave!” cried Billie, triumphantly.
Billie Bradley turned cold all over. To have brought Polly Haddon here—to have practically promised her a fortune—and then to find—nothing!
“Billie! They’re gone!” said a voice at her elbow, and she turned sharply to find Laura and Vi peering inquisitively over her shoulder.
“I know they’re gone,” she cried, almost sobbing in her rage and disappointment “Oh, girls, what, can we do? We can’t tell Mrs. Haddon——”
“What’s this you can’t tell me?” asked Polly Haddon herself, and Billie looked at the woman miserably.
“The model,” she said, her voice almost inaudible. “It was here yesterday, and now it’s gone.”
“Gone!” cried Miss Walters sharply. “How can that be? Is it possible that somebody else is in the habit of visiting this tower?”
But Mrs. Haddon pushed her aside.
“Do you mean that the model is gone—again—after bringing me here?” she cried wildly. “Oh, you could not be so cruel, you could not!” The last word caught in a sob, and Miss Walters put an arm about her compassionately.
“Listen to me a moment,” she said, in a gentle voice of authority. “If the girls are certain that the machinery and the blueprints were here as late as yesterday——”
“Oh, we are, we are!” cried Billie eagerly.
“Then whoever has taken them since could not have got very far away with them in this short time,” she went on reassuringly. “Your husband’s invention—if indeed it was his model the girls found here—must still be in this neighborhood, perhaps in this very building. Though who,” she added thoughtfully, “in this place could wish to steal such a thing is indeed a mystery.”
“Oh, Miss Walters!” cried Billie eagerly, “I’m sure nobody here in the Hall has stolen the invention. Nobody would have any use for it, and besides, it isn’t a thing that could be hidden very easily.”
Suddenly Laura had what she thought was a bright idea.
“Maybe somebody stole it who had a grudge against Mrs. Haddon,” she suggested.
Miss Walters looked inquiringly at the woman who had drawn away from her embrace and was wiping her eyes resignedly.
“Is there any one you know of who might hold a grudge against your family?” Miss Walters asked.
Mrs. Haddon went over to one of the dust-begrimed windows and stood there for a moment looking out, her fingers tapping a restless tattoo on the windowpane. Then she slowly shook her head.
“No, I can’t think of any one,” she said, adding bitterly: “We were too poor and unimportant to make enemies of any one. But what does it matter?” She turned quickly from the window with one of her fierce changes of mood. “The invention is gone. I was a fool to think that any good fortune would ever come to me. Let me go home.”
She brushed fiercely past Miss Walters, but the latter put out a gentle hand and detained her.
“Wait a little,” she begged. Her heart ached for the other woman’s suffering. “Come into my office with me while I make inquiries and find out if any suspicious person has been seen about here lately. I am confident,” she added with an assurance that reached the other woman, “that before long we shall be able to recover your property. Will you trust me and believe that I want to help you?”
“Yes,” said Polly Haddon, faint hope once more stirring in her heart. “You are more than kind to me.”
With what different emotions the classmates left the tower room from those with which they had entered it so hopefully only a few minutes before.
The girls supposed that now that Miss Walters had taken charge of Mrs. Haddon’s affairs, they would have no further interest in the matter. But, to their surprise and gratification, Miss Walters motioned them into her office also.
Then she summoned the teachers to her one after another and questioned them carefully as to whom, if anybody, had been seen around Three Towers since the afternoon before.
Through it all Mrs. Haddon sat with an expression of utter hopelessness on her face. Evidently the faint hope that Miss Walters had for the moment revived had died away again.
It seemed that none of the teachers had seen anything that might arouse suspicion, and even the girls were beginning to despair when they were at last given a clue to work on.
It was Miss Arbuckle who gave it to them.
She showed considerable surprise at first at being questioned. But after wrinkling her forehead thoughtfully for a few minutes she remembered having seen somebody loitering about the building late on the preceding afternoon.
“Could you identify the person?” asked Miss Walters quickly, alert at once.
“No,” said Miss Arbuckle, hesitantly, “I couldn’t be at all certain because it was dusk and I saw him only from the window. But it looked like that simple son of Tim Budd, the gardener.”
“Nick Budd!” cried the three girls together, and at the name Polly Haddon also roused from her reverie.
“You could not say certainly that it was Nick Budd?” said Miss Walters, questioningly.
“No, I couldn’t,” returned Miss Arbuckle. “But I remember thinking at the time that the fellow was acting in a rather peculiar manner, and I even thought of reporting him. I was called away by some duties then, however, and when I looked from the window again he was gone.”
“Nick Budd!” cried Polly Haddon, in an agitated tone, her hands clasping and unclasping in her lap. “You asked a while ago if there was anybody who might bear a grudge against my family, and I said there was no one. But I had forgotten poor foolish Nick Budd!”
“Yes, Mrs. Haddon?” prompted Miss Walters, while the girls exchanged excited glances.
“At one time my husband employed him as a handy man about the place,” the woman hurried on. “But after a while we noticed that things began to disappear—things that were worthless to any one else, but dear to us because of their associations.”
The girls and Miss Walters were intensely interested now. They were thinking of the numerous petty thefts that had taken place in the Hall during the past few weeks. Could there be any connection between that and Polly Haddon’s story?
“My husband charged the simpleton with taking the things,” the woman went on. “He did it gently enough, too, for he was sorry for the poor fellow, but Nick fell into one of his rages and slammed out of the house, muttering to himself. He never came back, and we never saw him again.”
“Then this boy did have some reason for wishing to get even with your husband,” said Miss Walters, all interest. “It begins to look as if he were the one who stole your invention in the first place. And if this was really Nick Budd whom Miss Arbuckle saw loitering about the school yesterday, it is probable he had something to do with its second disappearance——” she broke off suddenly, for Polly Haddon had risen to her feet.
The girls thought they had never seen such a picture of concentrated fury. She stood clutching the back of a chair fiercely and her eyes flashed fire.
“If it is proved that Nick Budd did this thing,” she said in a low, tense voice, “I think I shall—shall——”
“But you must remember that he is a simpleton and not accountable as sane people are,” put in Miss Walters hastily; but apparently the woman did not hear her.
“We must catch Nick Budd and make him confess,” she said impatiently: “Then perhaps we shall find out where he has hidden my property.”
“Miss Walters!” cried Billie excitedly, jumping up, and walking over to the principal, “I think I know where we can find everything that Nick Budd has ever stolen.”
“What do you mean?” asked Miss Walters. “Speak quickly, Billie.”
“In Nick Budd’s cave!” cried Billie, triumphantly.