The Mystery of the Secret Band. Lavell Edith

estate which helps to pay expenses,” Mrs. Hilliard explained.

      “There is a woman here named Miss Henrietta Stoddard,” observed Mary Louise, looking at her list. “Is she any relation of the founder?”

      “Yes, she is her niece. Old Mrs. Stoddard provided in her will that Henrietta should be allowed to live here free all her life, as long as she was single or a widow.”

      “How old a woman is she?”

      “About forty-five now, I should judge. And very bitter. She expected to inherit her aunt’s money, and she even tried to break the will. She hasn’t any money – I think she does odd jobs like taking care of children and doing hand sewing for her spending money and her clothing.”

      “Hm!” remarked Mary Louise.

      Mrs. Hilliard smiled. “I know what you are thinking – and I kind of think so myself. That Miss Stoddard is the thief. But you’d never believe it to look at her. She’s prim and proper and austere.”

      “You never can tell,” said Mary Louise.

      “No, that’s true… Well, you’ll have a good chance to judge for yourself tonight. Miss Stoddard is the one who is in charge of the book club. There is a library fund in the endowment, and these women decide upon what to buy.”

      “Tell me which of these guests belong to the club,” urged the girl.

      “All the regular residents belong, except Miss Violet Granger. She is an artist – she draws for magazines and for an advertising firm – and she always keeps apart from the other guests. She is the one from whom the oil painting and the fifty dollars were stolen.”

      Mary Louise nodded and put a check beside Miss Granger’s name.

      “Now,” she said, “I ought to check the names of all the other people who have had valuables stolen. Who else was there?”

      “Well, as I told you, the hotel itself lost the silverware and the Chinese vase. Then there were four watches stolen – my own, Mrs. Weinberger’s, and the two Walder girls… By the way, they are lovely girls, Mary Louise – they’ve lived here a couple of years, and I know their families – I’m sure you’re going to like them…

      “And the final – at least, I hope it’s the final robbery – was the painting and the money from Miss Granger’s room. But I have a feeling that isn’t the end, and the guests are all nervous too. It’s hurting our business – and – making my own job seem uncertain.”

      Mary Louise closed her notebook thoughtfully and sighed.

      “I’ll do the best I can, Mrs. Hilliard,” she promised solemnly.

      Ten minutes later they took the elevator to the first floor, and Mrs. Hilliard led the way into the library. It was a cheerful room with an open fireplace, a number of comfortable chairs and built-in bookcases around the walls.

      Miss Henrietta Stoddard, a plain-looking woman with spectacles, sat at the table on one side, with a pile of books and a notebook beside her. She was talking to an elderly woman and a younger one. Mrs. Hilliard introduced Mary Louise.

      “Mrs. Weinberger and Miss Weinberger,” she said, and Mary Louise immediately placed them as the mother and daughter who lived in rooms 302 and 304.

      The daughter was complaining to Miss Stoddard.

      “I don’t see why we can’t have some more exciting books,” she said. “Something a little more youthful.”

      Miss Stoddard drew the corners of her severe mouth together.

      “We buy just what the club votes for,” she replied icily.

      “Because the younger members never come to put in their votes!” returned the younger woman petulantly. “I asked the Walder girls to come to the meeting tonight, but of course they had dates.” She turned eagerly to Mary Louise. “You can put in a vote, Miss Gay!” she exclaimed. “Will you suggest something youthful?”

      Mary Louise smiled. “I shan’t be here long enough to belong to the club,” she answered. “I’m just visiting Mrs. Hilliard for the vacation.”

      “You’re a schoolgirl?”

      “Yes. A junior at Riverside High School.”

      “Never heard of it,” returned Miss Weinberger, abruptly and scornfully.

      “I’m afraid it’s not famous – like Yale or Harvard,” remarked Mary Louise, with a sly smile.

      Miss Weinberger went on talking to the others in her complaining, whining tone. Mary Louise disliked her intensely, but she didn’t believe she would ever steal anything.

      “What time is it?” demanded Miss Stoddard sharply.

      “I don’t know. My watch was stolen, you know,” replied Mrs. Weinberger, looking accusingly at Mrs. Hilliard, as if it were her fault.

      “You never heard anything about those watches, did you?” inquired Miss Stoddard.

      “No,” replied the manager, keeping her eyes away from Mary Louise. “There was a night watchman that night, but he said he didn’t see any burglar or hear any disturbance.”

      “The night watchman couldn’t watch four watches,” Mary Louise remarked facetiously.

      “Yes, there were four stolen,” agreed Mrs. Weinberger. “I suppose Mrs. Hilliard told you?”

      Mary Louise flushed: she must be more careful in the future.

      “I think that bleached-blond chorus girl took them,” observed Miss Weinberger. “She was here then and left the next day. That name of hers was probably assumed. ‘Mary Green!’ Too common!”

      Mary Louise wanted to write this in her notebook, but caution bade her wait till the meeting was over.

      The door opened, and an old lady came in, leaning on her cane. She was past eighty, but very bright and cheerful, with beautiful gray hair and a charming smile.

      Mrs. Hilliard sprang up and offered her the best chair in the room and introduced Mary Louise to her. Her name was Mrs. Moyer.

      Now the meeting began: the guests returned the books they had borrowed and discussed new ones to purchase. At half-past nine a maid brought in tea and cakes, and the evening ended sociably.

      Thankful to slip off alone to write her observations in her notebook, Mary Louise went to her own room.

      CHAPTER IV

      A Midnight Visitor

      Mary Louise put on her kimono and stretched herself out comfortably on her pretty bed, with her notebook in her hands. What a lovely room it was! What a charming little bedside table, with its silk-shaded lamp, its dainty ice-water jug – and its telephone. For that convenience especially she was thankful: she’d far rather have a telephone than a radio. Little did she realize how soon she was to find that instrument so useful!

      She opened her notebook at the page upon which she had written the guests’ names, and counted them. Fourteen people besides herself, and of that number she had met only five. Rather a slow beginning!

      “If I only had Jane here, she’d know everybody in the place by now,” she thought wistfully. “Jane is clever, but she does jump at conclusions. Maybe I’m better off alone.”

      She glanced at the notebook again and resolved not to bother yet with the names of people she hadn’t met. She’d concentrate instead upon the five that she did know. She began at the beginning with the girl with whom she had danced and eaten supper.

      “Pauline Brooks couldn’t be guilty,” she decided. “Because she came to Stoddard House only a few days ago for the first time. After the first two robberies had taken place. So she’s out…

      “Now I’m not so sure about Miss Henrietta Stoddard. She might even believe she had a right to steal things, because she was cheated out of her inheritance. Yes – I’ll watch Miss Stoddard carefully.

      “Next