CHAPTER XXV
THE LOOT RECOVERED
In answer to Miss Romaine's quick, intent questions Lily Darrow told her story.
The girl chums listened, surprised and bewildered at first, but growing more and more excited as they realized the importance to themselves of what this strange girl could reveal.
Lily told of overhearing the plot between Kate and Lottie; a plot the schemers hoped would convict the Woodford girls of the sort of practical joke least likely to be tolerated by Miss Romaine.
"She told Kate about seeing the robber come in that door," said Lily, pointing dramatically. "And how, after mussing the office all up and scattering the girls' things about, she was scared to death and ran up to her room and lay in bed all night with the covers over her head. So you see, Miss Jane, Nan and Jo and Sadie didn't know a thing about it!" Then, having finished her evidence, this unaccountable girl burst into tears and, with her hands to her face, rushed from the room.
The girls looked after her, wondering, then turned to Miss Romaine, who was absently toying with a paper weight on her desk.
"I am glad for your sake, my dear girls, that you have found so good a friend in Lily Darrow," she said slowly. "A girl has indeed proved her friendship who is willing to risk her future for it."
A wondering glance passed between the chums.
"I don't think we quite understand, Miss Jane," said Nan hesitantly.
"No, I don't suppose you would, without knowing more of the circumstances." Miss Romaine seemed to consider; then spoke with quick resolution. "Lily Darrow has not known the happy life that most of you girls have had. Her mother and father died about three years ago, leaving the girl an orphan and penniless. Mr. Speed, Kate's father, took her into his household—I believe she was a distant relation—as a companion to Kate. I imagine she has been more of a servant than a companion."
Here the girls exchanged glances that said they could easily believe that, too.
"At any rate," added Miss Romaine, still toying with the paper weight, "if I expel Kate and Lottie—as they richly deserve—Lily would have to go with them. Kate would see to that."
Jo made a quick sound of pity.
"I know now what you meant about Lily's sacrifice for friendship!" she said.
Miss Romaine nodded, studying the girls.
"It would be a double pity to separate Lily from Laurel Hall since her entire future—and a pleasant one, I think—depends upon her connection here." Taking pity on the girls' bewilderment, she added, looking steadily at them, "I have taken a great interest in Lily Darrow. She is a good student. In all her classes she stands at or near the head. I have promised her a position on my staff of teachers as soon as she has finished here. I think," she added slowly, "that Lily Darrow is living for that."
"And she would sacrifice everything for us," said Sadie, wondering. Then she added quickly: "Oh, Miss Romaine, isn't there something we can do? There must be something!"
"Yes, there is something," said Miss Romaine slowly. "It all depends on whether you girls will agree."
She went on to say that if Lottie and Kate were severely punished but not expelled, if the name of the girl who overheard their plot could be kept out of the matter entirely, Lily Darrow might yet escape the penalty of her brave act.
"If I can have the coöperation of you girls," said Miss Romaine, with her grave smile, "I think I can manage everything satisfactorily. We will be partners in a kindly conspiracy that will do no harm to any one and may do some one a great deal of good."
The girls agreed eagerly, glad to have mercy upon Kate and Lottie if by so doing they could benefit the poor girl whose odd association with Kate Speed was now made clear to them.
But there were still the mysterious robberies at the school to be explained. The morale of the students was seriously affected by the repeated alarms. They were nervous and jumpy, predicting direful mishaps in the near future, and several went over to the side of the timid girl who wanted to go home.
Miss Romaine, desperate at the inertia of the local police, was talking of hiring city detectives.
Things were at this pass when Nan met Frank Gibbs one day and the young fellow asked her to make up a party for one last outing on the lake. The boys had already met Miss Romaine, and she rather encouraged the friendship between them and the three girl chums.
"Isn't it pretty cold?" protested Nan, who, with the other girls, had resorted to sweaters and sport coats. "We are apt to freeze to death."
"Not if we make the kind of fire I'm thinking about," the boy retorted, with a grin. "Come on, be a good sport. We'll roast potatoes and have a real party."
When Nan passed the invitation on to Sadie and Jo they assented more readily than she had expected.
"We need something to take our minds off robbers and mysteries and things," Sadie added. "I've reached the point where every little shadow holds a villain all its own."
"And I've found out I have nerves," Jo added gloomily. "That's an entirely new discovery for me. Sure! Let's go and roast potatoes. It will do us good."
So, having received permission from Miss Romaine, they set off the following Saturday for Buttercup Island, which was some distance down the lake. The boys had chosen this particular island because on it was plenty of the kind of wood they would need for building a campfire.
Buttercup Island was visited little by the girls from Laurel Hall, since it was neither as accessible nor as pretty as some nearer the school.
When they arrived the boys already had a splendid fire going. In it potatoes and eggs were rolled indiscriminately, and the cooks were getting ready a huge pile of frankfurters for roasting.
"Every one's got to cook his own," said Dodd Martyn, pointing to some long, sharp-pointed twigs prepared for the purpose.
"No work—no eat, that's the rule in this camp," added Fred Fielding.
The girls were glad enough to work, for there was a chill wind blowing from the water, a keen-edged wind that made any sort of work agreeable.
"We'll soon have to be going home," said Frank regretfully, as they gathered about the fire some time later, to eat blackened potatoes, blackened frankfurters, and eggs cooked far too hard for good taste or good digestion. "It's apt to snow in a few days, and snow sure takes the fun out of camping."
"I should think it would." Nan paused with a frankfurter half way to her lips and stared off through the trees. "There's a motor boat," she said as they all turned to follow her gaze.
"With two men in it," added Sadie.
"And it's making straight for this island!" cried Jo. She was on her feet in an instant, staring at the incoming motor boat.
Nan pulled her down to the ground again.
"Don't let them see you," she cried. "If they land we can get a really good look at them."
All watched with intense interest as the motor boat neared the island, rounded a small promontory, and put in to shore. There was something familiar about the motor boat and about the men in it, too!
"If it should be Andrew Simmer!" thought Jo, a wild hope in her heart. To Fred Fielding she whispered urgently: "Don't let them get away. If they see us and start to run, catch them. Promise me!"
Fred nodded.
"Don't talk!" he said. "Here they come!"
The two men came slowly up the bank. One of them carried a pack on his back and looked like a tramp. The other was—Jo got a good look at his face this time and choked back a cry—Andrew Simmer!
The men saw neither the fire nor the young people about it, but kept on along the shores of the lake toward some definite objective.
Their hearts beating fast, the girls and boys followed.
The two men, looking neither to the right nor to the left of them, shuffled doggedly along. After a few moments they struck off into the deepest part of the woods, the young folks still trailing at a cautious distance.
"One of those rascals robbed our camp," Frank whispered to Nan. "I caught a glimpse of him that same day, hanging about in the woods——"
"Sh!" said Nan, finger to lips. "Look, they have disappeared!"
Running eagerly forward, the young people found that the hole through which the men had disappeared was the mouth of a cave. Jo's eyes were shining with a wild hope.
"We'll wait here till they come out again," she said to Fred.
"And then we'll nab 'em!" Fred finished with a nod. "Watch us!"
The two rascals reappeared so quickly that the boys were almost taken off their guard. Almost—but not quite.
As the men emerged from the cave, blinking in the strong light, the three boys fell upon them with all the vigor of youth and an earnest desire for revenge.
Andrew Simmer started to put up a fight, but when he saw Jo's angry face and blazing eyes, her little fists raised as though to add their weight to the battle, he crumpled and began to babble incoherently.
"I didn't do it—I didn't!" he said, fairly groveling at Jo's feet while Fred stood back and watched him with astonishment. "Tell your father I didn't do it! I It's all a mistake! Don't let them put me in prison! Don't!"
Frank Gibbs and Dodd Martyn had overpowered the tramp. Dodd was now sitting upon the latter's chest, regarding the scene with great interest.
Jo took a step closer to Andrew Simmer. All her wrongs and her father's surged over her, filling her with fury.
"You are a cowardly scoundrel, Andrew Simmer!" she cried, flaying the wretched fellow mercilessly. "You have wrecked my father's business. You have broken his heart and threatened his very life. You deserve to be hung!"
"Oh, no, spare me, spare me!" cried Simmer, in an agony of fear. "I will make restitution. I will do anything! Only spare my life!"
The prostrate tramp wriggled and tried to get up—whereupon Frank Gibbs joined Dodd Martyn on his chest. The tramp subsided, muttering imprecations.
"Then where," cried Jo, her voice thick with mingled hope and fear, "are my father's papers?"
For a tense second Andrew Simmer hesitated. Then he raised himself and pointed dramatically to the cave.
"In there!" he said. "You will find everything in there!"
The girls brought ropes from the launch and the boys bound their captives fast. Then, together, they thoroughly searched the cave.
Articles stolen from the gymnasium and the boathouse at Laurel Hall were brought to light, proving the identity of the robbers. Sadie found a packet of papers, evidently the loot from Miss Romaine's office desk.
But it was Nan who brought forth a black box marked with Mr. Morley's name.
"Look here, Jo," she said in an odd tone. "I believe this belongs to you!"
Jo gave one look at the box and its contents, then sat down very quietly with it in her lap and began to cry.
Nan and Sadie ran to her in swift sympathy, while the boys looked awkwardly on.
"Don't cry, honey," they coaxed, arms about her. "Don't cry!"
"I—I can't help it! I'm so—so happy." Jo lifted to them a face on which a joyful smile was dawning. "Anyway," she said stoutly, "I'm n-not crying—I'm laughing!"
So it all turned out beautifully after all.
Andrew Simmer and the other man captured by the girls and the boys on the island were hailed into court and there the mystery of their companionship was solved.
The suspicion that Andrew Simmer was not in his right mind when he decamped from Woodford with some vitally important and negotiable papers from his employer's safe in his possession appeared to be well founded.
The tramp, a rough, sly fellow, had come across Simmer just at the time when the latter was in the most acute terror lest his crime be detected. In some way the tramp had succeeded in wresting a confession from the wretched man and had afterward held this over his head as a club, forcing him to commit further robberies in the hope that the first might go undetected.
The black box contained practically all of Mr. Morley's missing papers intact and these, returned to him, put his business once more on a firm foundation.
When the question was raised by Jo as to why the bonds, some of them practically as negotiable as banknotes, had not been turned into cash, Mr. Morley himself replied by letter that both Simmer and the tramp had probably the common sense to hold the bonds until the hue and cry over the robbery had subsided and it was not quite so dangerous to put them in the market.
Among other things found in the cave were a number of pawn tickets. These, redeemed, returned to the girls practically all the articles taken from the boathouse and the gymnasium.
Even the sedan stolen on the night of the fire was recovered in due course of time and returned to its owner. All was well. The world once more became a sensible, well-ordered place and Laurel Hall settled down into its usual routine.
One day, not long after the capture of the thieves, Nan flung into the room where Sadie and Jo were hard at work over lessons. Nan's face was rosy, for she had been walking in a rather keen wind—a wind that prophesied the imminence of winter and of white clad hills.
"Hail and hello!" she greeted them, as the girls looked up absently from their books. "Lend me your ears, friends. I bring you news."
"And you do well," returned Jo, grinning. "That is, if it's good," she qualified. "If it be bad, out, out upon you, wretch, and leave us to our meditations!"
"It's both," returned Nan, flinging her hat on the bed. "Speedy Kate and Lottie have been denied all recreation periods for the next month."
"Miss Jane's punishment," said Sadie, and added: "How did you find out?"
"Lily told me," Nan replied. "She's the gratefulest girl you ever saw—though I keep telling her we are the girls who ought to be grateful. I have more news, too," she added. "The boys are breaking camp. It's getting a little too breezy, even for them. They are going home to-morrow."
"I wonder if we'll ever see them again," said Sadie regretfully.
Jo chuckled.
"I've rather a notion that we shall!" she said.
Jo was right. The friendship between the boys and girls, so oddly begun, ripened with the years into something stronger. Older heads in Woodford began to nod meaningly and matchmaking tongues wagged busily with an old, yet ever new and entrancing subject.
The scene shifts to the pleasant garden at the rear of the Harrison house several years after the opening of this story.
Nan's Aunt Emma, an invalid no longer but a handsome, happy woman in full possession of her health and joy in life, was seated on the garden bench, smiling over a great pile of letters that lay in her lap.
The sound of laughing voices caused her to look up as Jo and Sadie—older now, "practically grown up"—came swinging down the path toward her, arms entwined.
"What a pretty picture," laughed Jo. "Dreaming over a pack of old letters! Why, Aunt Emma—" as her eyes rested on the writing—"those are my letters to you!"
Miss Emma smiled.
"Your journal dear. I brought them out here to read them again—and remember how much I owe the author of them!"
"Foolish!" said Jo affectionately as she rubbed her fresh cheek against the older one. "How many times do I have to tell you that a good turn always deserves another! Think what you did for me! We saw Nan and Frank just now," she added, with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Oh, didn't we just!" agreed Sadie. "You'd never guess what they were doing, Aunt Emma!"
"What were they doing?" asked Miss Emma, an arm about each of the girls.
"They were walking along Main Street, looking in furniture stores," giggled Jo. "They were so absorbed they didn't even see us!"
"At that, Nan might do worse," remarked Sadie enigmatically. "Frank's an awfully nice boy."
"So is Fred Fielding," remarked Miss Emma, playfully pinching Sadie's cheek. "And," turning to Jo, "I've never remarked anything particularly wrong with Dodd Martyn, either!"
Across Miss Emma, Jo's eyes and Sadie's met. They smiled.
"Yes," sighed Sadie, "they are both nice boys."
Jo nodded profoundly.
"They are bothawfullynice boys!" she said. "Especially Dodd!"
"Especially Fred!" said Sadie.
THE END
Books for Girls
ByMAY HOLLIS BARTON
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.
THE GIRL FROM THE COUNTRYOr Laura Mayford's City Experiences
THREE GIRL CHUMS AT LAUREL HALLOr The Mystery of the School by the Lake
NELL GRAYSON'S RANCHING DAYSOr A City Girl in the Great West
FOUR LITTLE WOMEN OF ROXBYOr The Queer Old Lady Who Lost Her Way
PLAIN JANE AND PRETTY BETTYOr The Girl Who Won Out
(Other Volumes in Preparation)
Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York