Thegirls, chattering like a group of magpies and flinging curious, unfriendly glances toward Edina, had gone. Billie was alone with her in the big, silent, echoing gymnasium.
Edina sat on a bench, her hands clasped before her, a wooden, miserable figure.
Billie paced restlessly up and down, up and down——suddenly she paused in front of Edina.
“Why didn’t you tell me, if you knew? You should have told me, Edina. It wasn’t fair to leave me in the dark.”
Edina nodded.
“I know that. I meant to tell you as soon as I heard from home that Paw’s wells had gone dry. But, somehow, after tellin’ such wonderful tales about him, seems like I couldn’t bear to take them back. The truth,” with a bitter grimace, “wasn’t half so pretty!”
“When did you get the bad news from home?” Billie queried. She paused before Edina and regarded her intently, while proceeding to answer herown question. “It was the day we had the picnic over on the island, wasn’t it? The day you read the letter I handed you and you turned so white I thought you were going to faint?”
Edina nodded miserably.
“Yes, I knew then that Paw’s luck had gone back on him like it always had before. But I didn’t say anything. I guess—I was holdin’ on to the hope that it wasn’t so; that mebbe if I waited and said nothin’ for a few days I’d wake up and find that that news was only a bad dream.”
Billie paused in her restless pacing. She appeared to have come to a decision.
“Everything appears to be just as bad for us as it possibly can be, Edina. But since you know and I know that you didn’t steal that money there’s just one thing to be done.”
Edina asked without interest:
“What?”
Billie stiffened her back and a purposeful glint came into her eye.
“Find the real thief!”
Billie wasted no time putting her decision to work. She had never fancied herself particularly as a detective, yet now she set herself to the task with a will.
In regard to the stolen money, her thoughts returned again and again to that few minutes when Edina had abandoned her hand bag and its preciouscontents to wash her hands before going downtown to place the money in the bank.
Billie herself, busy with her own thoughts and still smarting over the fact that she had been tricked into leaving the tennis court without finishing that set with Amanda, had stood with her back to the room, looking from the window.
Billie was willing to admit that someone might have entered the room during that interval, opened Edina’s bag, seized the precious roll of money, and disappeared without being seen by either her or Edina.
If this reasoning were taken from the realm of sheer surmise, if it had in it some elements of fact, then who could it be who had entered that room during the few moments when Billie’s back was turned?
“That certainly is my problem,” thought Billie. “A hard one to solve, I’ll admit; harder than any I’ve ever helped Vi with! But I’ll find the answer. I must!”
Of course, there was always the possibility that one of the students in the school might be the thief, but as Billie reviewed the list of her acquaintances, this possibility became increasingly far-fetched.
Amanda Peabody might have done it for spite, in the hope of discrediting both Edina and Billie. However, Billie knew the unpleasant girl too well to entertain any serious belief of her guilt. Amandawas a coward and while she delighted in small meannesses, would hesitate, Billie felt sure, before an act involving such serious consequences.
“Why, we could put her in jail for stealing two hundred and sixty dollars,” thought Billie. She shuddered with dread at the realization that this same punishment might be meted out to Edina, provided the real thief were not caught!
“The real thief must be caught,” she told herself, for perhaps the hundredth time, and went on with her cogitations.
The elimination of the students and the teachers narrowed the list of suspects to the servants at the Hall.
Clarice, the cook? Perhaps—though Billie was loath to suspect anyone who made such excellent chocolate cake. There were three maids and a scrubwoman who attended to the general cleaning of thedormitoriesand the study halls. Anyone of them might——
Billie swung her feet to the floor and stood up. For some time there had been the sound of voices beneath the window. The voices had steadily increased in volume until now they broke with rude force into her meditations.
“Sounds like a riot,” thought Billie.
A voice, raised above the rest, cried shrilly:
“Arrest her! That’s the thing to do! Maybe then she’ll tell what she did with our money!”
Other voices joined in the cry.
“Arrest her! Arrest her! She’s nothing but a thief!”
Billie lingered to hear no more, but, turning, fled from the dormitory. When she emerged into the grounds she found a large group of students gathered there. In the midst of them, badgered, desperate, stood Edina Tooker!
Billie set her lips grimly and thrust her way through the crowd.
The girls gave way reluctantly and pressed more closely about her as Billie took up her position beside the tormented girl.
“Get away, Billie!”oneof them cried. “This isn’t your business any more!”
Billie faced them furiously.
“I’ll show you that it’s my business!”
Her voice was drowned in a chorus of angry cries.
“We want Edina!”
“Billie can’t stop us any more. Get out of the way, Billie!”
“We’ll have her arrested! Then maybe she’ll give us our money back!”
Billie was helpless. Although she flung an arm about Edina and tried by main force to push the girls away, they only surged the closer.
Hands reached out. They touched Edina, caught her! She was being dragged away!
Billie felt that she was in a nightmare where every sense was impotent. She spoke, but could not make her voice heard. She used her strength, and was powerless. They were dragging Edina away!
Suddenly a voice spoke sharply, authoritatively, from the school steps. Instantly the crowd about Billie and Edina gave back. The girls lapsed into sullen silence.
“I am amazed! I am shocked!” said Miss Sara Walters in cool, clipped tones. “Never before has it been my doubtful privilege to witness such a demonstration from these school steps. I trust that it will never be necessary for me to witness such a disgraceful exhibition again. Go to your dormitories and remain there until the supper bell rings!”
The crowd dispersed rapidly and faded away. Miss Walters disappeared within doors. Billie and Edina were left alone.
“You see!” said Edina drearily. “They are all against me, Billie. I don’t believe there is a girl at Three Towers—except you—who doesn’t think I’m a thief.”
“It was dreadful—disgraceful!” Billie was trembling with reaction from her fury. “It seems impossible to believe girls could be so wicked, so cruel!”
Edina shook her head.
“They think I’ve lied to them. They think I’ve cheated them. They want their money, and youcan’t rightly blame them. I guess I’d best be gettin’ back to Paw and Maw.”
“No!” cried Billie. “You will stay here and fight it out!”
Many times in the days that followed Billie Bradley was to doubt the wisdom of this decision. Edina was acutely miserable; she was subject to constant snubs, slights, insults, at the hands of her fellow students. She became pitifully pale and thin and kept to her room whenever possible.
Billie herself was scarcely less miserable. Her fellow students made it quite clear that she was alone in her championship of Edina. The fact that she persisted in her stubborn course irritated them and made her something of a pariah, too.
Meanwhile Billie kept close watch upon the comings and goings of the servants at the Hall, hoping for some clue that would lead her to the real thief and thus exonerate Edina.
Billie found it necessary to replenish her wardrobe by a day’s shopping in town. Having asked for and received the necessary permission from Miss Walters, she set off early on Saturday morning, determined to dispose of her shopping as soon as possible and return in time to help Vi with her always-difficult mathematics.
Having arrived in town, she went at once to a small drygoods store where she bought a dozenhandkerchiefs and one or two inexpensive articles of underwear.
When she tendered the storekeeper a ten dollar bill he returned her a five dollar bill and some odd pieces of silver.
Billie was about to stuff the change into her pocketbook when something about the five dollar bill arrested her attention.
She looked at it more closely and a stifled exclamation escaped her.
“Anything wrong, Miss?” asked the storekeeper anxiously.
“No, no,” Billie answered hastily. “There’s nothing wrong. Only—would you mind very much telling me where you got this five dollar bill?”
The storekeeper took the bill, turned it over, screwed up his features in a grimace evidently meant to intimate deep thought and scratched his head doubtfully.
Billie held her breath and watched him. Everything—simply everything—depended upon this man’s memory!
“Well, you know, Miss, it’s not so easy to remember who gave you a certain bill when you’re busy waiting on customers and making change all day long,” he drawled. “Now, there’s been quite a lot of customers in here to-day, and how could I know who gave me that particular five dollar bill?”
“Oh, certainly,” Billie breathed, “youmustremember who gave you that bill!”
The dull face of the storekeeper brightened.
“That’s right! Come to think of it, I do remember. That cracked peddler, Dan Larkin, give it to me. I recollect because I noticed that big black blot on it at the time.”
Billie’s heart pounded so loudly she was afraid the storekeeper must hear it. She controlled her excitement sufficiently to ask in a quiet voice:
“Who, if you please, is Dan Larkin?”
“I just told you,” said the man peering at her over his spectacles. “Dan Larkin’s a queer old chap who keeps a store on wheels. He goes about, stopping at various places and selling things on the way.”
“A traveling store,” echoed Billie, fighting against disappointment. “Then he isn’t here any more?”
“Reckon he is,” said the storekeeper carelessly. He had evidently lost interest in the subject. “Dan give me that bill only this morning. He’ll probably stick around town all the rest of to-day, anyway.”
Billie’s hopes soared again.
“I’d consider it a great favor,” she said, with her very best smile, “if you could tell me where I am likely to find this—this Dan Larkin.”
“He generally parks his van right outside the town limits near the Derry farm. Folks generally know when he’s there and go to buy of him.”
Billie thanked the storekeeper for this precious information and fairly ran out to the street.
The bent old fellow peered after her and thoughtfully scratched his head.
“Girls are queer creatures,” he philosophized. “Now, what in the world does she want to go seeing Dan Larkin for? The way she rushed out into the street, you’d think her life depended on it. It does beat all.”
Billie had heard of the Derry farm. It was situated on the outskirts of town. It had long been deserted and the rambling old homestead was said by some to be haunted.
Billie might have walked, but, such was her impatience, she hailed the nearest street car. No time was to be lost! She opened her purse to make sure the five dollar bill with the dark irregular blot across its face was still there.
“The clue!” she murmured, a strange gleam in her eye. “If it only turns out to be the right one!”
Billie left the street car on the edge of town and walked down a country lane. At the end of it was a queer contraption on wheels, a covered motor truck with windows cut in it and a door at the back. This was, undoubtedly, Dan Larkin’s traveling store.
Billie hurried forward. Before the rude, ladder-like steps of the “store” she hesitated, but voices from within reassured her.
Dan Larkin was dealing with a customer. Hewas wrapping up a large parcel when Billie Bradley entered.
The customer lingered, exchanging reminiscences with the grizzled old fellow behind the counter. She went at last, however, and Billie fumbled in her purse for the stained five dollar bill.
She thrust this across the counter toward Dan Larkin.
“Please!” she cried eagerly, “can you tell me where you got that bill?”