“But you’ve forgiven him?” Madge asked softly.
Miss Swenster did not reply at once. Then she said:
“I loved John more than any other person in the world, but it was a wasted love. I realize that should I take him back he would only make me unhappy. If he were to step into this house this very night, I’d tell him to go!”
Madge gazed at her queerly.
“You really mean that?”
“Yes, it may sound hard, but I gave twenty years of my life to John. For the first time I am commencing to see him in his true colors, ungilded by my ideals. I can never hope to forget him entirely, but at least his memory becomes more bearable.”
Madge was sorely troubled. She had fully intended to tell Miss Swenster that her son was in Claymore. Now it seemed a cruel thing to do. By her own admission, the old lady was gradually casting off unhappy memories which had held her enslaved for so many years. She felt herself sufficiently strong to confront her son, yet Madge wondered. Might not it be better to say nothing? By tomorrow John Swenster would be far away with no one the wiser, providing she kept her own counsel.
She was still turning the matter over in her mind when they left the supper table. The girls cleared the table and wiped dishes. Madge dropped a plate which fortunately did not break.
“What ails you tonight?” Cara asked. “Are you worrying about that French quiz we had today?”
Madge laughed.
“No, but it might be better if I would worry a little. I flunked it flat I know.”
“You always say that, but at the end of the month I notice you manage to squeeze through pretty well at the head of the list!”
They finished drying the dishes and stacked them in the cupboard. Madge was putting away the last plate when she suddenly straightened.
“What was that?”
“I didn’t hear anything,” Cara returned.
“I thought I heard something fall to the ground. It sounded like it came from the garden.”
“You’re imagining things,” Cara laughed. “Did you hear anything, Miss Swenster?”
“No, I didn’t. It might have been a ladder that fell. The man who was working on the house yesterday, left one standing against the eaves.”
Madge did not look completely convinced.
“I might just run out and see.”
“Don’t be a goose!” Cara remonstrated. “I think it was your imagination. We’re too far away from the garden to hear any noise from there. It was probably the ladder.”
Madge allowed her chum to drag her into the living room. She went to the window and looked out. It was a black night but had there been a moon she could not have seen the garden for a wing of the house obstructed the view. The wind howled plaintively outside. Miss Swenster thought the room was cold and went to the kitchen for fire-wood.
They built a cheerful little blaze in the fireplace. Madge and Cara sat on the floor, watching the embers. Presently, Miss Swenster brought in marshmallows which they toasted above the coals.
“Look out!” Cara warned. “Yours is burning, Madge.”
Madge flung the charred marshmallow into the fire and abruptly arose. She slipped on her coat.
“Where are you going?” Cara demanded.
“Oh, just out to the garden. I want to satisfy my curiosity. I’ve had an uneasy feeling all evening.”
Cara laughed scoffingly but when she saw her friend was not to be dissuaded, she too arose. Miss Swenster reached for her shawl.
“We may as well all go,” she said. “I feel that fresh air would do me good too.”
They filed out the front way, Madge leading. She was the first to reach the garden. Uttering a cry of surprise and alarm, she ran to the sundial.
It lay upon its side and the pedestal had been split from the dial!
“I knew it! I knew it!” Madge exclaimed, gazing in dismay at the wreckage. “All evening I felt something like this was about to happen.”
“Perhaps the wind blew it over,” Miss Swenster said, though her voice disclosed that she had no faith in her own words.
“It would have taken a cyclone to move that heavy sundial,” Madge declared. “Someone deliberately cracked it open. See, here’s the sledge-hammer he used. I knew I heard some such sound.”
“And like as not the pearls are gone!” Cara wailed.
“That’s a foregone conclusion,” Madge responded. “But we may as well get a light and make a thorough search.”
Miss Swenster already had started for the house. She returned a minute later with a flashlight. They turned it upon the dark interior of the broken pedestal and Madge felt around with her hand.
“If the pearls were ever here they’re gone now,” she announced.
The significance of the discovery was gradually dawning upon her. She knew that it was John Swenster who had been prowling about the garden and now she was convinced that he had broken open the sundial in an attempt to locate the pearls. At the risk of shocking Miss Swenster, she determined to withhold her information no longer.
“Miss Swenster, I should have told you this before,” she said quietly. “Your son is in Claymore—has been for days. I learned this afternoon that he had registered at the Grand Hotel.”
Miss Swenster’s face was hidden by the darkness but the girls saw her figure straighten. She spoke no word and Madge rushed recklessly on:
“Perhaps I ought not to say this, but I discovered that it was he who came here at night.”
“The prowler you saw digging here in the garden?” Miss Swenster asked in a tense, unnatural voice.
“Yes.”
“Then I think we know what became of the pearls. You should have told me before, Madge.”
“I did intend to—but——”
“I understand,” Miss Swenster interrupted, “you hoped to spare my feelings. We must try to reach my son at once!”
“He’s registered at the hotel, but I’m afraid he may be gone by this time. I heard him say he was checking out early.”
“We can’t let him get away with the pearls! Come, we’ll call a taxi.”
They rushed to the house. While Madge and Cara struggled into their wraps, Miss Swenster telephoned the nearest cab agency. In five minutes the taxi was at the door.
“To the Grand Hotel,” Miss Swenster directed, “and hurry!”
In the dim light of the cab she looked very pale but determined. She listened quietly as Madge related in detail her experience of the afternoon.
The cab halted in front of the hotel and the doorman assisted them to alight. Telling the driver to wait, the three hurried inside, going directly to the desk.
“We should like to see Mr. Swenster,” Madge said. “Is he here?”
The clerk shook his head regretfully.
“Sorry. He checked out some time ago. He went at least a half hour ago, I’d say.”
“You don’t know where he was going?” Madge demanded eagerly. “It’s very important.”
“You might inquire of the starter,” the clerk suggested. “I believe Mr. Swenster called a taxi.”
The three hurried outside again, asking the same question of the doorman. He did not know Mr. Swenster by name but recalled him from Madge’s accurate description.
“If I remember rightly, he went to the Union depot,” he informed.
They sprang into the waiting cab, directing the driver to take them to the station.
“Step on it!” Madge ordered.
She glanced at her wrist watch. It was exactly nine-thirty and she knew that an express train left for New York at nine-forty.
“Oh, we’ll never make it!” she breathed.
Miss Swenster’s lips drew down into a tighter line. Her fingers nervously tapped the car window.
They had three minutes to spare as the cab pulled up to the station. Tumbling out, they started off at a run, unaware of the curious stares directed at them.
Entering the waiting room, they swiftly surveyed it. John Swenster was no where to be seen.
“He’s probably on the train by this time!” Cara cried. “And it pulls out in two minutes.”
Miss Swenster and Madge dragged her toward the gate. “Tickets!” the gateman said sternly. “You can’t go in without—”
The three brushed past him so quickly that he was taken completely by surprise, and could only stare after their retreating backs.
They ran down the platform.
“Look!” Madge cried, pointing to a man ahead. “Isn’t that he?”
“Yes, it’s John,” Miss Swenster murmured.
They touched him on the shoulder just as he was boarding the train. He wheeled and the color drained from his face as he beheld Miss Swenster.
“John—” her voice quavered, then took on a sterner tone. “You must come with me.”
He laughed unpleasantly.
“Sorry, but I’m taking this train.” He tried to board it but Cara deliberately blocked his way.
“You can’t go until you explain a number of things,” Miss Swenster said quietly. “And you must give me the pearls!”
“Well, of all the idiotic things! Say, are you trying to create a scene?”
With increasing uneasiness, he surveyed a little group of persons who had gathered on the platform to see what the argument was about. Passengers had thrust their heads curiously from the train windows.
“All aboard!” the conductor called.
“Get out of my way!” John Swenster said harshly, thrusting Cara aside.
Madge darted forward, snatching his suitcase from his hand.
“All right, if you go, you go without your suitcase! And what’s more, we’ll have you arrested at the first stop!”
The man faced Madge with smoldering eyes. He saw that he could not retrieve his suitcase without a struggle and the conductor was not in sufficient sympathy to hold the train a minute. Even now it was slowly pulling from the station.
Frantically, he watched the cars moving by. He seemed undecided what to do. Then with a gesture of angry submission, he abandoned all intention of boarding the train.
“Well, now that you’ve made me miss my train, just what do you want?” he asked unpleasantly, moving toward Madge as if to recover his suitcase.
She backed away.
“Now, John,” Miss Swenster said firmly, “unless you wish me to call the police, you must come without making any fuss.”
“Where do you expect me to go?” he demanded sullenly.
“To my home. We’ll talk matters over there.”
“All right,” he said suddenly. “I’ll check my suitcase and go with you.”
“We’ll take the suitcase along,” Miss Swenster told him.
He looked as though he intended to refuse, but the sight of a policeman moving through the train gate, caused him to change his mind. Madge and Cara carried the suitcase to a taxi cab, not trusting it in his hands.
“This is an outrage!” John Swenster protested as they drove toward the mansion.
His foster-mother paid scant attention. Not until they were all in the living room of the mansion did she speak her mind.
“John,” she said calmly, “I’ve stood entirely too much at your hands. I’ve protected you for the last time. Now either give up the pearls or I’ll turn you over to the authorities.”
“Pearls!” he scoffed. “I don’t know anything about your pearls.”
“Madge, will you search the suitcase?”
The girls had been waiting for this opportunity. Quickly, while John Swenster looked on furiously, they unstrapped the case and opened it. They lifted out several layers of clothing. In the very bottom, lay an old candy box. Madge shook it. Something rattled. She opened the box.
Inside lay a string of pearls, perfect in shape, skillfully matched—the most beautiful necklace the girls had ever seen.
“The famous old Swenster pearls that were willed to my mother!” Miss Swenster exclaimed. She turned coldly to her adopted son, “And you would have stolen them from me!”
A sudden change had come over the man. At sight of the pearls which plainly established his guilt, his arrogance departed. He gazed contritely upon his foster mother. Madge instantly divined that he hoped to appeal to her sympathies.
“I would never have touched your pearls only I’m in such desperate need,” he whined. “I can’t find work. Why, I haven’t had a decent meal in weeks. I’m down and out while you have this fine home—everything.”
He made a rather appealing figure as he stood there pleading his case. Madge and Cara exchanged uneasy glances. Would Miss Swenster give in to him as she had in the past?
The old lady seemed to waver. Her face softened, then tightened again.
“Don’t try your old tactics,” she said sternly. “I notice that you have good clothing and you had money enough to stay at the Grand Hotel. However, I’ll be generous. If you care to make your home here you are free to do so.”
He laughed bitterly.
“You think I’d stay in this one-horse town? Not on your life! You must furnish me with money to live in Chicago or New York.”
“You’ll not get another cent from me—ever!”
John Swenster shrugged his shoulders.
“O.K. Then I’ll be ambling along.”
“One minute!” Miss Swenster halted him. “I am letting you off easier than you deserve. By rights I should turn you over to the police.”
“Oh, you’re being very generous!” he mocked.
“Unless you tell me exactly what motivated your return to Claymore—and a truthful story, mind you—I may change my mind about being so generous!”
John Swenster recognized that she meant what she said. He realized too that her feeling toward him had undergone a change, that he could no longer bend her to his will.
“There’s little to tell,” he said gruffly. “I was out of money and I thought the pearls might tide me over. I’d have had ’em too if it hadn’t been for these girls!”
“How did you learn of the pearls?” Miss Swenster questioned.
“Knew about them when I was a boy. Remember that old desk of yours? Well, it has a secret panel. There’s a diary inside that told about the pearls. I tore out one of the pages years ago and then forgot about it.”
“Just what did that page say about the pearls?” Madge inquired curiously. “Did it say they were hidden in the sundial?”
“No, it didn’t. If it had, I’d have made off with them weeks ago. The only hint I had was that they were hidden somewhere near the sundial. Like a fool I wasted a lot of time digging up the garden!”
“We saw you,” Madge admitted. “But tell us, what brought you here just at this time?”
“It was years ago I learned about the pearls. I tried to locate them at the time but failed. Then I forgot all about it until I learned that Miss Swenster was coming back here to open up the house. I thought I’d get here first and make one more try. I didn’t have any luck until it occurred to me that the pearls might have been hidden inside the dial. Tonight I came here, chancing detection, and cracked open the pedestal. I found the necklace inside.”
Miss Swenster asked a few more questions before telling her son that he might feel free to go. After he had left, she stood for some minutes at the window, watching his retreating figure. Then she turned back to the girls, and with tears in her eyes thanked them for their aid.
“You have saved my house!” she said. “Finding the pearls means more to me than you’ll ever know.”
It was so late that Cara and Madge dared linger no longer. However, the following day they were back at the mansion to learn from Miss Swenster that she had called off her auction sale. Already she was making plans to restore the estate to its former elegance and she had engaged old Uncle Ross as gardener. She told them too, that she had turned over the necklace to a jeweler for an appraisal.
“I don’t know its value yet,” she declared, “but it will bring more than enough to keep me in my old age. I intend to reward you girls too!”
Madge and Cara demurred and Miss Swenster finally dropped the subject after warning them she would have something more to say when their birthdays arrived. Nevertheless, the girls did have one favor to ask—that they might hold a meeting of Skull and Crossbones at the old mansion.
The very next Saturday Madge and Cara introduced their friends to the delightful estate. They pointed out the broken sundial which Miss Swenster planned to repair, the desk with the secret panel, and told a story which held their friends spellbound.
“You lucky thing,” Jane Allen said enviously to Madge. “How do you manage to run into all these entrancing adventures?”
“They seem to run into me,” she laughed.
“It’s not fair for you to have a corner on all the fun,” Enid Burnett complained good naturedly. “We’ll not forgive you unless you promise to take us in on your next secret.”
“Oh, I shall,” Madge returned, “though I can’t say when I’ll have another. If only you’d all go North with me next summer, I know I could guarantee real fun and perhaps an adventure.”
“Let’s take her up on it!” Enid cried.
The girls all laughed for as they sat in the cozy drawing room before the crackling fire, summer seemed a long way off and Canada too far distant to even imagine. Yet, the germ had taken root, and the next year was to see them all in the North Woods with Madge fulfilling her pledge.
THE END