When Bet awoke the next morning she gave a little cry of delight as she looked out on the white world. The trees were heavy with snow and everything had been changed to a magic garden.
"If I'd had any idea that we were going to have snow, I'd have had a coasting party tomorrow night."
After the thrill the girls had experienced in their Christmas giving, they now looked forward to their own pleasures. Even Christmas day seemed to be insignificant when compared to the prospect of the party.
Although Bet's father had made arrangements for the party, it was not with his usual enthusiasm, and Bet watched him carefully, thinking he was ill. But the Colonel laughed her fears away. And from then on he tried to hide from his little daughter the fact that he was worried.
Business investments had all gone wrong. In fact everything he had touched for the last year had been a disappointment. Now it seemed as if the only way to save what he had was to get a large sum of money, and in these uncertain tunes, that was impossible.—Unless he sold the Manor.
It was this problem that was worrying him. He could not bear to give up his home. It was here that he had brought his young wife and for two years had lived in a Paradise. Her early death had crushed him for a time, and it was only in the Manor where the dear memories of her happy spirit filled each room, that he was content.
It was the fear that he might have to give up his home, that made Colonel Baxter worry, and Bet watched him with troubled eyes.
He had put forth an extra effort to appear happy during the Christmas season, and he tried to throw himself into the plans for the party with his usual enthusiasm.
Bet saw the difference, but wisely said nothing.
At the Colonel's suggestion, they decided on a costume party. That would give the girls a chance to wear some of the lovely old dresses that he had collected.
Bet was terribly disappointed when her father came hurrying in at noon before the party with the announcement that he had a business call to Chicago, and would not be able to attend the party.
"Then we'll put it off, Daddy. A party wouldn't be any fun without you."
"No, I wouldn't do that, Bet. Think of the many who would be disappointed if you postpone it. Then too, I may not be back for two weeks. It is a business matter that I must attend to. It's important."
Reluctantly Bet went on with her plans. There were a few tears when she told the bad news to her chums in the afternoon.
"That's the worst of having a father who plays with you," said Joy. "I never expectmymother and father to care about my good times."
"I just can't make it a real success without Dad," exclaimed Bet tearfully.
"You can, if you try, Bet Baxter. So brace up and stop your sniffling!"
"I wasn't sniffling, Joy Evans," exploded Bet.
"What do you call it, then?" laughed Joy.
"Just a few regretful tears."
Even Shirley, the serious one laughed heartily at Bet. And in a few minutes they were busy with their plans.
"Say Bet, what possessed you to ask Edith Whalen? I've tried to be glad but it isn't in me to be," said Joy.
"I'm not glad, myself, but what's the use of being a Merriweather Girl unless you live up to the heroine of the Manor? Lady Betty would have asked her, I'm sure," replied Bet.
"Then she must have been an angel!" exclaimed Kit, who had so much joy taken out of her school life by the unpleasant remarks of Edith and her friend Vivian Long, that she did not welcome the thought of meeting her at the party.
"Lady Betty was an angel!" cried Bet, tossing a kiss to the smiling face above her.
"Then why did we take her as an ideal? Who can live up to an angel? I can't," said Kit sadly.
"None of us can, but Dad says it's a good thing to have a star to aim at. Course it's away above our heads but we can aim, just the same. She'sourstar. Each of us can have our own pet ones. I have my lovely mother, who is another angel. She's for myself, but Lady Betty is a company affair."
"Did you think all that out, Bet?" asked Shirley.
"Dad helped me. It troubled me to have Lady Betty for our club ideal! It seemed like putting her before my mother, then Dad explained that I could hardly share mother! And that makes it all right."
"I think Lady Betty is pleased, don't you. She smiles so sweetly," whispered Kit.
"She always smiled sweetly, even when she was having terrible troubles.Shedidn't cry just over a disappointment. She was brave!" Bet straightened up and brushed a tear away.
"We'll have to be like her," laughed Kit as she added: "And believe me, it takes bravery to meet Edith."
"Therefore Kit Patten, I'm going to give you full charge of Edith tonight. See that she has a good time," commanded Bet.
"Hold on there, Bet Baxter. I'm a bucking bronco and you can't trust me to drive in harness. I'll disgrace you! Like as not when Edith puts on that superior air, I'll take her by the arm and escort her out of doors."
"No, you won't. I know you!" Bet patted her friend lovingly.
"Just the same, I hope her mother will keep her at home on account of the snow storm."
Kit did better than she thought she could. The fact that the four Merriweather Girls were the hostesses and received the guests as they came in, gave Kit prestige that Edith dared not ignore.
Some of the guests in gay and weird costumes had arrived when the phone rang. Laura Sands' voice was husky with crying. "Oh Bet, I can't come. I've ruined my costume and I won't go without one."
"You come right along up here, Laura. I have lot of costumes and you can take your pick."
Laura arrived in ordinary clothes and Bet and Kit conducted her to the attic to choose a Colonial gown.
When the door to the narrow stairway was opened, Bet heard a queer scraping sound as if one of the old trunks had been moved.
"What's that?" asked Kit. "Do you suppose it's rats?"
"No, don't worry! It isn't anything!" But as Bet switched on the light and reached the top step she was just in time to see a figure in bright clothes go out the window. She heard the sound of a thud on the veranda of the second floor and running feet along the corridor.
"Somebody was in here!" exclaimed Bet.
"Don't be silly, Bet! I thought you were too big to be frightened in the dark."
"Well look at that window, Kit Patten! Did we leave it open? We certainly didn't. And look how the costumes are all tumbled out of the chests! A man has been in here, anyway. I saw him slide out that window."
"And look at the footprints!" exclaimed Kit.
"Nothing to worry about. This is a costume party and someone is playing a trick on us," decided Kit.
"Maybe so," assented Bet. "But if so, why didn't they play their tricks instead of just mussing things up and then running away?"
Grabbing a gown of gold cloth, Bet exclaimed, "Come on, girls, let's get out of here. It's spooky!"
"Lock the window first, Bet. Then if anyone is prowling around they can't get back this way," Kit suggested.
"Who could it have been?" puzzled Bob Evans when they reported the episode to the guests. "I know all the boys, and none of them would do a thing like that."
Phil and Bob rushed out to the veranda but saw no one on the grounds. Uncle Nat's sharp eyes soon picked up the footprints in the snow and followed them to the road where they were lost. On his return, he let Smiley Jim out of the basement, and the dog ran around the house, quite excited, with so many people around.
The young people decided that it might be one of the guests trying to fool the others.
"But I don't believe it," said Bet emphatically.
The gown chosen for Laura Sands was an old French costume and when the girls dressed her she looked like a queen.
"Why girls, she looks exactly like a picture of Marie Antoinette, don't you think so, Bet?" called Kit.
"And I know just the thing to make it perfect."
"The fan! She must carry the queen's fan!"
"Oh Bet, I wouldn't do that! You know your father prizes that fan so much."
"He won't care. Anyway, Laura will be careful."
Bet ran up stairs to her father's den, rummaged in the drawers and found the fan.
"Here, Laura, you may carry this, but be very careful for it's one of my father's treasures. He loves that fan."
"Oh I'll be careful. Isn't it beautiful!"
"If I were you, Laura, I'd take a few turns around the rooms, show off the fan and then put it away. It's an antique and I know it's valuable."
It was Phil Gordon who spoke, as he examined the fan and returned it to her.
But Laura did not seem to realize that the fan had any great value. Phil picked it up several times when she had left it carelessly on chairs or tables, and after it had been lost and found several times, he refused to give it back to her.
In the midst of the gaiety, Joy ran into the room, pale with fright. "I don't think it's fair," she complained. "One of the boys was hiding in the hall, and frightened me."
"Who was it?" demanded Bet indignantly.
"I don't know," replied Joy. "He ran down the hall as fast as he could go."
"Let's find him," exclaimed Phil Gordon.
"And if it's one of the boys we'll send him home," said Bob.
"I wish you would." Bet was troubled. With her father away, she felt that the young people should not take advantage in that way.
But they could not find anyone in the rooms.
"Maybe you just imagined it, Joy," said brother.
"No, I don't think she did. I heard a noise a little while ago when I put the fan away. I thought at the time it was Smiley Jim."
"When was that?" asked Bet.
"About fifteen minutes ago, I left the fan on top of your father's desk, Bet."
"All right, Phil. But I'd certainly like to know who is prowling around."
"It's probably one of the boys from the village who didn't get an invitation. They do that sometimes," suggested Phil. "They are probably trying to break up the party, and we're letting them do it."'
"That's right!" exclaimed the young people. "Aren't we silly! Let's get back to the games."
The scare was soon forgotten as the boys and girls became engrossed in their play and Smiley was brought in to do tricks.
But after the last guest had gone and Bet and her three chums, who were to spend the night with her, were tucked into bed. Bet thought she heard noise in her father's room.
She was out of bed in a second. "Oh I do believe Daddy came back after all," she whispered a ran into the den.
As she switched on the light, she imagined she saw a shadow at the window. Then she took herself in hand. "Bet Baxter, you're being silly! Just because you saw someone going out the attic window you imagine you see it again! Go back to bed!"
As she was returning to her room, she had an idea and slipped down to the basement quietly so she wouldn't waken Uncle Nat. She opened the door and Smiley Jim bounded into the garden with a growl.
As Bet went up stairs again, she heard the dog running about and smiled to herself. "He's had so much excitement, he's nervous too."
Reaching her room she saw her father's photograph on her desk. She picked it up, "Dear old Dad, I wonder what was worrying you when you went away today. You looked so sad. I'm so silly I never want to see anything but joy on your dear face. Goodnight Daddy boy!" And Bet slipped into bed and was soon fast asleep.
The morning was half gone when the four chums finally awoke and felt the need of breakfast.
"Come on girls, let's get up," called Kit, as she sprang out of bed and ran from room to room to make sure that the girls were rising. "I'm going to be dressed first and go down and help Auntie Gibbs make the toast."
But when Kit arrived in the kitchen she found the old lady singing at her work, and therefore in a happy mood. Her party had been a success and she felt a personal triumph. Breakfast was ready.
While the girls were eating, the door bell rang three times.
"There's the mail! Oh Uncle Nat, is there a letter for me?"
"Of course, you know that without asking. Your Dad always writes and if he thinks a letter may not reach you, he sends a telegram."
"Sure. Give it to me!" And Bet tore open the letter eagerly and read it.
"Oh Auntie Gibbs, come here this minute until I tell you something wonderful. Just think! Dad says the queen's fan is worth a fortune. Somebody wants to buy it for a lot of money!"
"Oh, oh!" exclaimed the girls in one voice.
"You don't say so! Isn't that fine, now? Where is this queen and her fan?" asked Auntie Gibbs.
"It's one of Dad's antiques. I showed it to you."
"Oh that!—And you say it's worth a fortune? Well, some folks spend money for foolishness, if you ask me."
Bet paid no attention to Auntie Gibbs' remarks. "Listen girls," she said. "I'm to go down at once and put it in the safety deposit box. Dad's got a cash offer for it. And he says it will save the estate."
"What does he mean by that?" asked Kit. "Save the estate?"
"I hardly know. I'm really puzzled about that."
"I didn't know your father was having any business troubles, Bet, though Ihadnoticed that he'd lost his appetite lately," said Auntie Gibbs.
"I knew something was bothering him," mused Bet, "but I never guessed it was about money or the estate. Poor Dad, and I wasn't any comfort to him at all."
"You're always a comfort to your father, Bet," protested the old lady.
"He dotes on you!" exclaimed Shirley.
"Oh, of course, I know that. Now I'm going to go right down to the bank and put that fan away."
Bet hurried up stairs followed by the girls. "Get your hats and coats on and I'll get the fan."
Bet ran into her father's room. She looked in the drawer where the fan should have been. She rummaged through the contents of the desk and fear seized her as she became certain the fan was missing.
"Are you almost ready, Bet? We're waiting!" called Joy.
"We'll all escort the queen's fan to the bank," laughed Kit.
"No, I'm not ready yet," Bet replied with a strained voice. "Oh Auntie Gibbs, come here," she called from the head of the stairs. "Did you see the fan? Phil left it on the desk."
The old lady came hurriedly up stairs. "Why did Phil have it? I haven't seen a thing of it."
"Oh, I was terrible! I took the fan from the drawer and loaned it to Laura Sands to wear with her French costume."
"What made you do such a thing, Bet? I'm surprised at you!"
"I just didn't think. And oh dear, Dad won't take that as any excuse! We must find it, Auntie Gibbs. Wemust!"
Everyone joined in the hunt with growing excitement, and the house was searched, even the attic. But the fan was gone.
"Maybe Phil didn't put it on the desk, at all. He probably has it in his pocket and forgot all about it. Let's call him on the phone and see what he says," exclaimed Kit.
But Bet stopped suddenly: "Oh Auntie Gibbs, perhaps thatwasa robber that I thought I saw going out the window. Maybe he stole the fan!"
"Nonsense child, you are still nervous. Now quiet down and we'll find the fan somewhere. We'll call Phil, now," soothed Auntie Gibbs.
Anxiously Bet called, but the boy was not home and Mrs. Gordon said casually that she would tell Phil to give them a ring when he came in. She had no idea that a lost fan was important.
Bet was quite indignant for a moment. "To hear her talk you'd think that it would be all right if he called next week."
"But Mrs. Gordon doesn't know anything about how valuable it is, Bet," explained Kit. "You mustn't blame her."
"I know, of course, but I'm terribly worried."
"I think the best thing to do is to telegraph your father at once," suggested Uncle Nat.
"And that's just what Ican'tdo. Dad has gone on a trip and he says he won't have an address until the first of the week."
"I'm going down to the village to find Phil and talk it over with him," announced Kit decisively. "Let's all go!"
The four girls walked all through the town but, though they hunted everywhere, they did not find Phil. Shirley and Joy went into Shirley's Shop and sat there for an hour, hoping he might pass. But evening came and still Phil had not been home.
Bet was at supper when Phil Gordon called her at last. She was trembling as she said, "I must see you at once, Phil. Can you come up?"
Phil caught the note of worry in her voice and answered, "I'll be there in an hour, Bet. Is that O.K.?"
"I wonder what's the matter, son. Bet has called several times today," said his mother.
"I can't imagine what it is. I'll get ready and go right away. If there is anything I can do for Bet, I'll be glad to help. She's one of the finest girls I know. She's never silly, just out and out, and treats you as if she were another boy. I like that!"
Phil wasted no time on his supper. Even his mother urged him to hurry.
"I do hope nothing is wrong with Colonel Baxter, that would make Bet worry," Mrs. Gordon said as Phil left her.
When Bet opened the door for Phil, he saw at once that something unusual was troubling her.
"Phil, I just had to see you. I can't find that fan we had the other night. Do tell me just where you put it!"
"Why Bet, I put it right on your father's desk, back toward the wall, so no one would knock it off.—You know Laura was being so careless with it that I got worried and took it from her."
"Are you positive you put it there, Phil?"
"Yes, Bet, of course I am."
"Father sent me word to get it into the safety deposit at once. He's had an offer for it. It's worth a lot of money, and he needs money badly just now."
"Why Bet, have you any idea what could have happened to it? Would anyone around here know about it and try to steal it when your father is away?"
"I don't know. Dad seemed so anxious in his letter and instructed me so carefully about putting it away, that I think he must have been afraid of thieves. He said: 'Get it into the safety deposit boxat once. It's important! I trust you!' And now I can't find it. What shall I do?"
"You say you thought you heard someone in your father's room after the party that night. Is there anyone who would know about the fan and come prowling around to get it?"
"I wish I knew that, Phil. Just now I can't imagine what has happened to it."
"I know what I'm going to do, Bet. I'm going to go down to the police office and talk to Chief Baldwin, tell him the whole story and ask his advice. I'll do that at once. Enough time has been wasted."
Phil was away before Bet could stop him, even if she had tried. And when Chief Baldwin heard only part of the story, he decided to hear the rest on the spot and returned to the Manor with Phil.
Chief Baldwin went over the whole house with Bet and Phil. In the attic he saw the footprints still on the floor, in the dust, and Uncle Nat told him of following the same marks in the snow, to the main road.
"Why didn't you get me on the job, then, I'd like to know? Why did you delay?"
"We all thought it was one of the village boys who was not invited, and decided he'd try to break up the party."
"Still, with Colonel Baxter away, you should have let me know at once. I sort of feel responsible and if anything happened to Bet when he was away I'm sure he'd blame me."
In spite of her anxiety, Bet had to laugh. "You're as bad as Auntie Gibbs. Her responsibility weighs heavily on her, and when Dad is out of town, she almost sets me crazy."
"You see, Bet, we all think so highly of your father that we do not take any chances in displeasing him. Now about this fan! Who was the last person to have it?"
"I was," answered Phil without hesitation. "I took it from Laura Sands because she was being careless, and I put it on Colonel Baxter's desk in the den."
"Have you asked Laura Sands about it?" inquired the Chief.
"Yes, and she says that Phil took it away from her."
The Chief insisted on going over the rooms again carefully, but still the fan was not found.
"The best thing to do," said Chief Baldwin, as he saw Bet's troubled face, "is to put a good detective on the job. And we'll find the queen's fan, I promise you that."
"When can you find it? Before Monday? Dad may be back on Monday."
Everybody laughed. "Well Bet, that's asking a little too much, even of the Chief, just when the fan will be found. But I give you my word, it will be recovered."
Bet felt somewhat better after the optimistic talk with Chief Baldwin and for that night, at least, she laid aside her worries.
But Phil was not at all reassured by Chief Baldwin's promise. He was unhappy and despondent as he told his mother the whole story from beginning to end.
"I'm terribly uncomfortable, because I was the last to handle it, Mother," confided the boy. "Would anyone have imagined that such a thing could happen?"
"Are you sure you did return it? Perhaps it is in the pocket of your overcoat. I'm going to see," and his mother left the room.
But Phil knew the fan was not there. And that night he was disturbed even in his dreams and woke at intervals with the feeling that all the troubles of the universe weighed him down.
The next morning he was again with Chief Baldwin and Amos Longworth, the detective, a tight-lipped stranger with narrow eyes, who had been chosen to look into the matter. Together they went to the Manor and looked over the rooms as before. Longworth examined the footprints in the dust and in the snow outside. "That's some foot! I should think you'd be able to trace a man by that foot. It's a whale!"
"And that's why we thought it was someone masquerading. No one in our crowd has a foot that size."
But if Phil was nervous and depressed over what had happened up to this time, he had reason to be still more concerned when the detective accompanied him home and began to question him privately. Before an hour had passed, Longworth had made him confess that he and his mother were very poor and that he might have to leave school to work. Also that he realized the fan was very valuable.
"Yes, I knew the fan was worth a lot of money. Colonel Baxter told us so. It's painted by a famous French artist and was at one time the property of Marie Antoinette. It was given to her by Louis XV. That's enough to make it very valuable."
"You know all about it, I see. So you put it in your pocket?"
"No. I took it to the Colonel's den, and put it on his desk."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, sir."
"Didn't you feel any temptation to take it and sell it to get money?"
"No, sir, I did not! Such a thought never entered my head. It belonged to Colonel Baxter. He is my friend and I would not hurt him in any way—or Bet either."
Mrs. Gordon came in and was introduced and while she spoke of the theft of the fan and her unhappiness at Phil's part in the matter, the detective did not again take an aggressive tone. Yet his narrow eyes showed suspicion.
Not being able to get word to her father, Bet brooded over the loss of the fan and it took all the ingenuity of her three friends to keep her cheerful. For the first time they found Bet inclined to be irritable.
"Now please don't mind me, girls! I'm just worried almost sick. If Dad hadn't added that last line about saving the estate, I wouldn't feel so badly about it. I'm afraid he's had some serious business trouble, and if anything happens to the fan through my carelessness, what shall I do?"
"Well, everything is being done that can be done, as far as I see," said Joy, who was in no mood for dancing now that Bet was unhappy.
"But it's such slow work! And being just a girl, I have to sit here twiddling my thumbs, not doing a single thing to find the fan," exclaimed Bet indignantly.
"There ought to be some way in which we could help. Let's try to think of something." It was the quiet Shirley who spoke, and, coming from her, the suggestion seemed possible, for Shirley was always so well balanced in all her thoughts that the girls often looked to her when they had perplexities to overcome.
"There's one thing sure, that fan didn't just up and walk out by itself. Somebody took it out!" exclaimed Kit.
"And another thing that's sure, is that it was on the desk, for Phil said he put it there," said Bet emphatically.
"Maybe he just thought he did!" sighed Joy.
"No, we've gone into all that, Chief Baldwin, Mr. Longworth, Uncle Nat and everybody. There isn't any question about it," declared Bet. "Phil put the fan on the desk, I know he did!"
"Then,whotook it?" demanded Shirley. "Who would know that it was valuable? And who would want it?"
"Say Shirley, if you ever get tired of photography and want a new job, you'd better be a detective," laughed Kit. "Go on, ask some more questions and maybe we'll hit on the right solution to the mystery."
The girls laughed, but Kit added: "No fooling, girls! I know a woman in Arizona who trapped a cattle rustler all by herself, and if she did that, why can't we find the fan?"
"That's right. The Merriweather Girls should be able to find a clue. I'm sure Lady Betty would have done so in less than no time," remarked Joy.
"Perhaps she would. I wonder," said Bet sadly.
Bet Baxter insisted that Phil Gordon was not mistaken when he said he had put the ivory fan on her father's desk. But the detective shook his head and later in a talk to Chief Baldwin said:
"It looks bad for that young man, Chief. He was the last to have it. He acknowledges he's hard up, and he knew its value."
"You're barking up the wrong tree, Longworth. Everybody knows Phil Gordon and would trust him anywhere."
"All the more reason why he can act so brazen and innocent in the matter. It looks bad," Detective Longworth announced. "I've seen so many cases just like it. I'll keep my eye on that young fellow and I bet I'll get the goods on him."
The detective's suspicions travelled at a lively rate around the village and before twenty-four hours it came to the ears of the Merriweather Girls. It was Edith Whalen and her shadow, Vivian Long, who passed on the gossip to Joy Evans.
"Now what do you think of your friend Phil Gordon?" asked Edith. "I guess Bet didn't know she was associating with a thief. I saw him with that fan at the party and he was acting in a suspicious way. Lots of folks are sure he stole it."
"Who says Phil took the fan?" demanded Joy.
"Everybody's saying it! And the detective seems to think he has the clue pretty well run down and expects to arrest Phil any time now." Edith asserted with venom in her voice.
"I don't believe a word of it!" snapped Joy.
Indignation was at its highest pitch when Joy told Bet and her chums what Edith had said.
"Now we've just got to do something!" exclaimed Shirley. "We must clear Phil and that's all there is about it!"
"All right, what will we do first?" Kit jumped to her feet, ready for action.
"Who would have any interest in the fan, besides your father?" Shirley questioned Bet.
"Another antique dealer might, but no one would know he had it," Bet's eyes were bright and intense with anxiety.
"What about Peter Gruff?" cried Kit. "I never trusted that old man! And hewasinterested in that picture of the fan."
"But he's interested in all old things, and you heard him say that it was a common type and had no particular value," said Shirley. "No, I don't believe old Peter would want it that badly."
"I'm not so sure. I wasn't impressed with Peter Gruff, as you know. I'm going to prowl around his shop and see what I can see," laughed Kit as she grabbed her hat and coat.
"Wait a minute and we'll go down to Shirley's Shop," cried Bet. "I can't believe such a thing of old Peter but we won't leave anything undone."
And as soon as the girls reached the shop, Kit went over to Peter Gruff's store. She asked to see samplers. "We'd like to have a few for our shop," she remarked to the old man.
"No samplers!" muttered Peter. "I don't keep any. No money in samplers."
"Let me see some pewter pitchers, then." Kit was enjoying the musty old store with its strange collection of odds and ends, piled everyway about the dust-laden store.
Peter Gruff didn't have any pewter pitchers.
"Then, do you happen to have any fans?" exclaimed Kit suddenly, hoping to surprise the old man into looking guilty.
"No money in fans. I don't sell fans."
And Kit had to acknowledge that there was not the slightest change of expression in his hard blue eyes.
But as she poked her way about the place she saw a glass case and inside among bottles, books, old china and other objects, she saw several fans. She edged closer to the case and glanced through the assortment, but the fan she wanted was not there.
Of course she hardly expected to find it. If Peter had taken the fan, he would hide it away for a while at least.
"But there is something suspicious about him. Saying he didn't have any fans, when they were right there all the time," Kit confided to the chums when she returned to the shop.
"It does look suspicious!" Joy cried. "Girls, I do believe we are hot on the trail."
"I wish I could believe it!" Bet was not optimistic. "I don't believe he did it. He's heard of the theft of the fan and acts a little embarrassed. I do wish Dad were here!"
"I don't. I want to find that fan before he returns," announced Shirley with quiet decision.
"I hope we do!" said Bet.
"We're Merriweather Girls and we must find a way out of this difficulty. Lady Betty saved the Manor in her day, now we will do the same!" Kit said decidedly.
"Yes, but how?" groaned Bet. "I've thought and thought about it until my head whirls."
The more the girls puzzled over the mystery, the less light appeared. Kit made daily visits to the antique shop, hoping to find something suspicious. She made friends with Jacques, the freckled-faced little French boy who worked for Peter. He was shy at first, but Kit soon put him at ease with her kindly smile. He gazed up at her with big, dark eyes that expressed his devotion. Kit had won his heart, and the girls saw him often staring up from the basement window, hoping to get a glimpse of her.
One day when Kit was looking over the assortment in the glass case of Peter's shop, she was surprised to find that the fans had been removed. She was about to ask Jacques where they were when Old Peter Gruff returned.
"You know, Mr. Gruff, I just love your shop! I hope you don't mind me prowling around and looking at things."
She got only a curt grunt in reply, but Kit didn't mind. She went on: "That's awfully kind of you! I'm going to come often."
Kit always returned from her visits with new suspicions. Although she had found no clue, she insisted that the old man was guilty.
"Kit, I'm surprised at you!" declared the gentle Shirley. "He's a harmless old man, and I don't believe he would steal from Colonel Baxter."
"Maybe he wouldn't," Kit returned with a frown, "but I still have my doubts. I wish I had his shop to myself for half a day, then I'd make sure the fan was not hidden there.—Or I'd find it."
"Why couldn't you send him up to the Manor to fix a chair or something?" exclaimed Joy.
"He'd probably see through it. Peter Gruff is foxy," replied Bet. "Anyway I had orders long ago never to let the old man in the house when Dad was away."
"So your father didn't trust him?" cried Kit exultantly.
"Well Dad just thought it would be better not to put temptation in his way. He's crazy about old bric-a-brac, you know. And Dad didn't know what he might be up to."
Kit got her chance to have the shop to herself the next day. Old Peter Gruff left early in the morning, and Jacques was alone.
"It's luck, Kit," shouted Bet. "Come right away!"
Jacques smiled and bowed as the girls filed in. And when Kit asked him to see pewter, brass, crystal, one right after the other, the boy raced around furiously to please her.
"I want to go down stairs," said Kit with a smile.
"Mr. Gruff doesn't want people down stairs," began the boy, but before he had finished his sentence, Kit was already on the lowest step.
But the store room was so packed with things that it was impossible to move about. Two dim lights gave only enough glow to cast heavy shadows about the vault-like cellar. There was something sinister about the gloom.
"Let's get out of here while the getting's good!" whispered Joy. "I feel as if someone might jump up any minute from behind these old bureaus. I believe the place is haunted."
"No, don't go yet," pleaded Kit. "I haven't seen half enough. Who cares for ghosts, anyway? Say Jacques, what does Mr. Gruff keep in that old cabinet there?"
"Just some old china and fans and things."
"Let's see the fans," Kit demanded.
"Funny how everybody wants to see fans lately," said Jacques. "A big tall man, then a young man, then you girls."
Kit started violently. "Who was the tall man?" she asked abruptly.
"I dunno!" replied Jacques. "Phil Gordon came and asked Peter questions, and the old man got mad and said, 'Git out!'"
While he was talking Jacques had brought out the fans at Kit's request, but they were cheap and not any particular value.
"I wonder what Phil found out," mused Bet.
But whatever Phil's object was in going to the antique shop, it strengthened the suspicion against him. The detective, who had been watching him for days, was now assured that the boy was trying to dispose of the fan and on questioning Peter Gruff, he believed that his suspicions were correct.
Phil had asked the old man if he ever bought fans. Mr. Longworth reported this to Bet Baxter and the next day when she met Phil on the street, he hurried by as if anxious to avoid a talk with her.
Bet was wild with anxiety. Phil had looked at her in such a guilty way. She hurried home and, once inside the house, she burst into tears. "What's the matter with Phil Gordon, anyway? He couldn't have taken that fan. Then why does he act like a thief?"
That afternoon Bet was moping about the house when her three chums arrived. Vacation would soon be over and they were making the most of those two short weeks. But Bet was not in a mood for merry-making. Another letter had come from her father regarding the fan. It read:
"I know you have been prompt in looking after the fan as I told you to do. It is the greatest satisfaction that in matters of this sort I can trust you implicitly. I am rejoicing that the money I will receive from the fan will meet the demands of my creditors and that I'll not have to sell the Manor. The lucky little fan has saved us!"
"Girls, what am I going to do?" Bet sobbed as she finished reading the letter to them.
"I know one thing, Bet Baxter. A Merriweather Girl doesn't waste time and energy in tears! Lady Betty scorned tears!" declared Shirley.
"She looks as if she had never had a trouble in the world," sighed Bet, looking up at the picture.
"Laugh and the world laughs with you!" hummed Joy. "Cheer up, the worst is yet to come!"
"Keep quiet, Joy Evans. Those are about the silliest speeches a human being can make. I wish you'd go home—oh no, Joy, I don't mean that, I'm just worried."
"Of course you are, old dear. We all know it and want to help you, if we can. Come on out and have a snowball match."
It was a glorious day, sharp and sparkling and the snow crunched under their feet as they walked.
"This is the sort of weather when I long to go on a hike," said Shirley. "If it wasn't for this trouble we're having I'd suggest it."
"Let's go tomorrow anyway!" exclaimed Bet impulsively. "That is, unless something very important comes up. We're not accomplishing anything by hanging around the house and brooding."
"Right you are, Bet!" shouted Joy, as she threw a snowball at Kit. "If we take a brisk hike through the woods maybe the wind will blow the cobwebs out of our brains and we'll be able to think of some way to find that fan."
"The detective is on the job. I'm sure he'll find a clue," remarked Shirley quietly.
They returned to the house and found Uncle Nat disturbed over a visit from Amos Longworth. "Why that man was quizzing me up just as if he thoughtIstole the fan!"
"That detective is loco," laughed Kit, using a term from her beloved mountains.
"What does loco mean, Kit?" asked Joy.
"It means he's crazy! The horses get crazy in the mountains from eating a weed by that name. That's the way with Mr. Longworth; he's been eating loco weed."
"I'll say he has," Joy agreed merrily.
When the girls separated for the night they had made their plans to start the next day at eleven o'clock for a hike. That would give them plenty of time to hear anything that the detective might find out.
That evening Bet received a message from Mrs. Gordon. During the talk she told Bet that Phil was worrying himself sick over the theft of the fan.
"I know Phil wouldn't do it, Bet," his mother exclaimed.
"Of course he wouldn't. We girls have never blamed him, not even for a second. It's that silly detective! Don't worry about it. We'll find it, somehow!"
Bob Evans had gone away the day after the party and when he came back and heard the accusation against Phil, he was ready to fight.
"The very first person I met when I got off the train told me that Phil had stolen the fan belong to Colonel Baxter," he told Joy.
"Who said it?" cried Joy.
"A great friend of yours."
"No friend of mine would accuse Phil. The whole thing is ridiculous!"
"Why Edith Whalen said he was going to arrested within twenty-four hours!"
"Lots she knows about it! But if that detective had his way, he might be. I can't imagine anyone paying a man to be so stupid. We girls have told him again and again that Phil had nothing to do with it."
"Has Phil been asked up to the Manor since that happened?" asked Bob.
"No, I don't think so. He's been up several times but it has been with the detective or Chief Baldwin."
"Then you girls ought to ask him to go with you, just to show him and everybody else chat you don't believe a word of all this gossip! Phil wouldn't steal! I'd trust him with anything!"
But while Bob stormed and determined to clear his friend in some way, his efforts were not successful. He made it a point to have Phil with him wherever he went, but that did not clear the boy of suspicion.
The girls, as well as Bob, were anxious to do something for their friend, but as the fan had disappeared and there was no evidence left, they seemed to be getting nowhere. Bet and her chums were desperate.
The girls looked forward to the hike in the snow as a diversion that would rest their tired nerves and help them to see more clearly on their return.