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The Mystery at Dark Cedars
Mary Louise Gay a girl detective.
Jane Patterson her chum.
Miss Mattie Grant spinster at Dark Cedars.
Elsie Grant orphan, niece of Miss Grant, living at Dark Cedars.
Mrs. Grace Grant sister-in-law to Miss Grant.
family of Mrs. Grace Grant.
John Grant middle-aged bachelor
Harry Grant younger bachelor
Ellen Grant Pearson married daughter
Corinne Pearson granddaughter, girl of nineteen
Hannah and William Groben servants at Dark Cedars.
Mr. Gay, Mrs. Gay, Joseph (Freckles) Gay family of Mary Louise.
Max Miller, Norman Wilder, Hope Dorsey, Bernice Tracey friends of Mary Louise.
Mrs. Abraham Lincoln Jones a colored woman.
Mira a gypsy fortune teller.
Silky Mary Louise’s dog.
CHAPTER I
The House of Mystery
“Be quiet, Silky! What’s the matter with you? You don’t usually bark like common dogs over nothing!”
The brown spaniel stopped under a maple tree and wagged his tail forlornly, looking pleadingly into his mistress’s eyes, as if he were trying to tell her that he wasn’t just making a fuss over nothing.
Mary Louise Gay stooped over and patted his head. She was a pretty girl of sixteen, with dark hair and lovely brown eyes and long lashes that would make an actress envious.
“I see what Silky means!” cried her companion, Jane Patterson who lived next door to Mary Louise and was her inseparable chum. “Look, Mary Lou! Up in the tree. A kitten!”
Both girls gazed up at the leafy branches overhead and spied a tiny black kitten crying piteously. It had climbed up and couldn’t get down.
“I’ll get it,” said Mary Louise.
She swung herself lightly to the lowest branch, chinned herself, and climbed the tree. In another minute she had rescued the kitten with her hands.
“Stretch on your tiptoes, Jane,” she called to her chum, “and see if I can hand it down to you.”
The other girl, who was much shorter and stockier than Mary Louise, did as she was told, but the distance was too great.
“I suppose I’ll have to climb down with her in one hand,” concluded Mary Louise. “That’s not so easy.”
“Drop her over to that branch you swung up by, and I’ll get her from there,” suggested Jane.
A moment later Mary Louise was at her chum’s side, stroking the little black kitten, now purring contentedly in Jane’s arms.
“I wonder whose it is,” she remarked. “There isn’t any house near – ”
“Except old Miss Grant’s.”
Both girls turned and looked at the hill which rose at the right of the lonely road on which they had been walking. The house, a large drab plaster building, was barely visible through the dark cedars that surrounded it on all sides. A high, thick hedge, taller than an average-sized man, gave the place an even greater aspect of gloominess and seclusion.
“Maybe it is Miss Grant’s kitten,” suggested Jane. “Old maids are supposed to like cats, you know.”
Mary Louise’s brown eyes sparkled with anticipation.
“I hope it is!” she exclaimed. “And then we’ll get a look at the inside of that house. Because everybody says it’s supposed to be haunted. Our colored laundress’s little girl was walking past it one evening about dusk, and she heard the most terrible moan. She claims that two eyes, without any head or body, looked out through the hedge at her. She dropped her bundle and ran as fast as she could for home.”
“You don’t really believe there is anything, do you, Mary Lou?”
“I don’t know. There must be something queer about it.”
“Maybe there’s a crazy woman shut up in the tower.”
“You’ve been reading Jane Eyre, haven’t you, Jane? But there isn’t any tower on the Grant house.”
“Well, I guess Miss Grant is crazy enough herself. She dresses in styles of forty years ago. Did you ever see her?”
“Yes, I’ve had a glimpse of her once or twice when I walked past here. She looks like the picture of the old maid on the old-maid cards. It must be awful for that girl who lives with her.”
“What girl?” inquired Jane.
“A niece, I believe. She must be about our age. Her father and mother both died, so she has to live with Miss Grant. They say the old lady treats her terribly – much worse than the two old servants she keeps.”
While this conversation was going on, the two girls, followed by Silky, were walking slowly up the hill towards the big hedge which surrounded the Grant place. Once inside the yard, it was almost like being in a deep, thick woods. Cedar trees completely enclosed the house and grew thick on both sides of the narrow path leading from the gate to the porch. In spite of the fact that it was broad daylight, Jane found herself shuddering. But Mary Louise seemed delighted with the strange, gloomy atmosphere.
“Doesn’t this girl go to high school?” asked Jane. “If she’s about our age – ”
“I don’t believe so. I never saw her there.”
They stopped when they reached the steps of the porch and looked about with curiosity. It certainly was a run-down place. Boards were broken in the steps, and pieces of plaster had crumbled from the outer wall. The grayish-colored ivy which grew over the house seemed to emphasize its aspect of the past.
“Isn’t Miss Grant supposed to be rich?” whispered Jane incredulously. “It doesn’t look like it!”
“They say she’s a miser. Hoards every cent she can get.” Mary Louise smiled. “I believe I’ll tell Daddy to report her for hoarding. She deserves it!”
“Better wait and find out whether she really is rich, hadn’t you?” returned Jane. “Your father’s a busy man.”
Mary Louise nodded and looked at her dog.
“You lie down, Silky,” she commanded, “and wait here for us. Miss Grant probably wouldn’t like you. She might think you’d hurt Pussy.” She smiled indulgently. “She doesn’t know you belong to the Dog Scouts and do a kind act every day – like rescuing cats in distress!”
The spaniel obeyed, and the two girls mounted the rickety steps of the porch. Although it was late in June, the door was closed tightly, and they had to pull a rusty knocker to let the people inside know that they were there.
It was some minutes before there was any reply.
A sad-faced girl in an old-fashioned purple calico dress finally opened the door and stared at them with big gray eyes. The length of her dress, the way her blond hair was pulled back and pinned into a tight knot, made her seem much older than her visitors.
A suggestion of a smile crossed her face at the sight of the girls’ pleasant faces, and for a second she looked almost pretty.
“Is this your kitten?” asked Mary Louise. “We rescued it from a tree down the road.”
The girl nodded.
“Yes. It belongs to my aunt Mattie. Come in, and I’ll call her.”
The girls stepped into the dark square hall and looked about them. The inside of the house was even more forbidding than the outside. The ceilings were high and the wall paper dark. All the shutters were drawn, as if there were poison in the June sunlight. For no reason at all that they could see, the old stairs suddenly creaked.
Jane shuddered visibly, and the girl in the purple dress smiled.
“Don’t mind the queer noises,”