 CHAPTER XV of THE MYSTERY OF THE FIRES by Edith Lavelle The slipperbox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Mary Escano. CAPTIVE Mary Louise was not far away from Shadynook in the matter of miles, but she felt as if she were worlds away. Everything was strangely different from anything she had ever known, grotesque and terrible. For the place she was taken to was an asylum for the insane. Little did she think, as she entered the Adam's farmhouse that afternoon, that her freedom was to be snatched from her, that she was to be held in hopeless captivity, without any means of communication with the outside world, a prisoner in a house that was far worse than a jail, enduring a life that was a living death. When no one answered her knock at the Adam's door that afternoon, she opened the screen and walked in, calling first Hattie, and then Rebecca by name. Finally the latter replied, I'm up here, sick, a bed, called the woman, who be you? I'm Mary Louise, she answered, may I come up and see you, Rebecca? Yes, yes, come, have you found the well of clear water? Mary Louise laughed to herself as she ran up the stairs. She wished that she could find some well water for the poor deluded woman, but there was none in the vicinity. She wondered what Rebecca would do if she ever did discover a well. She entered her bedroom, smiling and shaking her head at the poor, eager creature. No, Rebecca, not yet, but I'll find you one some day. How are you feeling? I'm better, I want to get out soon, will you get me a drink of water, Mary Louise? Certainly, replied the girl, from the kitchen? Yes, from the kitchen. The woman sank back on her pillow, and Mary Louise went for the water. When she returned, Rebecca was half asleep. Here's your water, Rebecca, she said. But where is Hattie? I don't know, gone away, I guess. They've all gone away, soon I'll go too. Her voice trailed off, as if she were half dreaming, and Mary Louise walked to the door. She heard the sound of a car in the driveway below, and hoping that it might be Hattie, she went down the stairs. With the car standing in front of the house, was not the dilapidated Ford that belonged to the Adams family. It was a big black limousine, which reminded Mary Louise of a hearse, or a funeral carriage, and she shuddered. It might have been an ambulance, but ambulances were usually white. She wondered what a car like that could be doing at the Adams farm. Two men got down from the driver's seat in front, and Tom Adams came and joined them at the porch steps. They talked in low tones to each other. Mary Louise opened the screen door, and came out on the porch. Suddenly, she heard her own name mentioned, and a cold chill of horror crept up her spine. What were they planning to do to her? She said she's Mary Louise's gay, and my Tom insists on it, and she does look like a girl by that name. But don't believe her, she's my sister, Rebecca. He raised his eyes, and looked straight at Mary Louise. Hello, Rebecca, he said, we're going to take you for a ride. Mary Louise's brown eyes flashed in anger. Rebecca's upstairs, second bed, she retorted, go and see for yourselves. Suddenly, with the agility of panthers, the two men sprang forward, and grabbed Mary Louise's wrists. Come along, Rebecca. One of them said, no use struggling, we're taking you to a nice farm. With a desperate effort to free himself from the men's grasp, Mary Louise kicked one of her captors in the leg. He let go of her hand, but the other man held her tightly. Wild little beast. Hear my. Now sister, you take it easy, we ain't going to hurt you, you'll like it where you go. You'll get better care than you do here. Your brother says there's nobody here to look after you now that your mother's gone. He's not my brother, shouted Mary Louise, and I can prove it. Just ride down to Shadynook a couple of miles and ask anybody. But the men preferred to ignore this challenge. They picked Mary Louise up, bodily, and thrust her into the back of the limousine, shutting the door and turning the key in the lock. She found herself sitting on a long seat that ran the length of the car. There were no windows on the side. Only two tiny oval glasses in the back door permitted a little light to enter the enclosure. Before she could utter another sound, she heard the engine start, and the vehicle went into motion. Over the rough, stony driveway, onto the dirt road that led away from the farm, in the opposite direction from Shadynook, Mary Louise's first impulse was to scream as loudly as she could, in the hope of attracting the notice of the occupants of some passing car, or of some farmer working on his field. But second consideration told her that such a proceeding would do her no good at all. As soon as those men in the front seat explained that she was a crazy person being taken to an insane asylum, nobody would believe anything she said. The realization of this fact brought a deathly hopelessness to her whole body. Her arms and legs felt inert. Her head sank back against the cushion, as if her very spirit were flowing away, leaving her helpless and finished with life. For perhaps ten minutes she sat thus, unmindful of the country through which she was being driven, as if she had been stunned by physical blow, and no aid were near. Then suddenly she thought of Tom Adams, and a fierce anger took possession of her, reviving her spirits, bringing her back to life. She would not give up. She would fight to this bitter end. She'd make him pay, and pay heavily for his diabolical cruelty. She moved along the seat to the far end of the car, and peered through the tiny window. The road over which they were passing was narrow and rough. The country unfamiliar. It was not a main highway. Mary Louise instantly concluded, and she wondered in which direction it lay from Shadynook. She wished now that she had watched it from the beginning. She did not even know whether they had crossed the river or not. Still, I suppose that doesn't really matter, she thought, because if I can manage to get away at all, I can easily find my family. They'll be hunting for me. Tears of distress came to her eyes as she pictured her mother's wish, and her father was so far away. Why did I ever try to be a detective? She groaned. The punishment is too horrible. Mother and daddy would rather lose their cottage and have the whole settlement that Shadynook burned than have me endure torture like this. On and on they went through the lonely, unpopulated country. Time seemed to stand still. It was as if the afternoon were to last forever. Yet when Mary Louise glanced at her wristwatch, she saw that it was not yet five o'clock. They crossed over a little stream, and the car turned at an angle and climbed the hill. Up up they went, until they reached a narrow road at the summit. Looking down into the valley below, Mary Louise could see a stream, not as wide as the river, winding its peaceful way in the summer sunshine. It was a beautiful spot, if you could enjoy beauty, but it meant nothing at all to the unhappy girl. That looks like a main road across the valley on the opposite side of the stream. She thought, if I can escape, I'll make for that. Thank goodness I know how to swim. She wished that she had thought to glance at her watch when the car started, so that she could roughly judge the distance from Shadynook by the time it took to cover it. She had been so miserable that she could not tell whether she had been riding twenty minutes or a couple of hours. At last, however, the car came to a stop at a high iron gate which reminded Mary Louise of her penitentiary. So this was the way they guarded feeble-minded people. One of the men got down from his seat, took a key from his pocket to unlock the gate, and swung the heavy iron doors open. When the car had gone through, he locked them securely behind him. A shiver of horror passed over Mary Louise as she heard that final click. A sense of hopelessness overpowered her to such an intense degree that she felt physically sick. A life of utter emptiness was closing her in, as if her mind and her soul had been extracted from her body. How much more fiendish her existence would be than that of any ordinary victim of kidnappers. But then Tom Adams had not kidnapped her because he wanted a ransom, but only because he desired to get rid of her. While he had succeeded, nobody in the whole world would think of looking for her in an insane asylum. The car wound around a lovely driveway shaded by trees and stopped in front of a long plaster building that appeared to be at least a hundred years old. A man and a woman came out of the ivy-covered door as the driver unlocked the back of the limousine. With their head held high in defiance, Mary Louise stepped out. How do you do, Rebecca? Greeted the woman, a plain-faced person of about fifty, in a grey dress. There's been a ghastly mistake! announced Mary Louise, trying to keep her tone dignified. Tom Adams is a criminal, and because I found him out he has sent me here, calling me his feeble-minded sister. I'm not Rebecca Adams, but Mary Louise Gay. The man and the woman exchanged significant glances. Mr. Adams warned us that you would say that, replied the man. He said you do look like a girl named Mary Louise Gay, but try to forget it, Rebecca. We have your papers, signed by your own brother and your cousin, so there's nothing you can do about it but submit. My cousin, repeated Mary Louise, thinking of her aunt's children, aged nine and six. How could they commit anybody to an insane asylum? Yes, Stanfield Fraser. Fraser? She cried in scorn. He's not my cousin. He's no relation. He's a crook, too, like Tom Adams. Now, now, Rebecca, calm yourself, advised the woman, taking Mary Louise's arm, and just come along with me. You don't want to make trouble. Wouldn't you rather walk by yourself than have these men carry you? Tears of anguish came to the girl's eyes. She looked desperately about at the group of people who were surrounding her, searching for some spark of sympathy or understanding, but the men were all regarding her with an amused expression of tolerance, as if her action were just what they had expected. Isn't there some way I can prove that I'm sane? She demanded, some test I can take. Oh, don't get yourself all worked up, Rebecca, answered the woman. Your brother told us you were all right most of the time, and that you probably wouldn't give us any trouble. We're not going to put you into chains. You like it here? Mary Louise groaned. There was nothing she could do or say, so long as they believed that wicked Tom Adams. So she meekly followed the woman into the house. Its large hall and big reception room were plain and old-fashioned, with very little furniture in them. But she noticed that everything was croupleously neat and clean. For that much, she was thankful. Often, she had read, the places where kidnappers confined their victims were filthy and germ-laden. She need have no fear of disease here, except disease of the mind. A younger woman in the white uniform of a nurse came into the hall to meet them. This is Miss Stone, Rebecca, announced the older woman. She will help you and take care of you. Now go with Miss Stone to your room. Didn't you bring any back, Rebecca? Asked the nurse, as she led Mary Louise up a flight of stairs to a long corridor. Mary Louise smelled grimly. Kidnappers don't usually allow their victims time to pack their suitcases. She said, and if you don't mind, Miss Stone, we'll call me by my right name. It's Mary Louise Gay. The young woman nodded solemnly. Certainly, Mary Louise. She replied. Mary Louise looked at the nurse, hopefully, wondering whether she was really finding a friend. Did the nurse believe her? All the doors along the corridor were closed, but Mary Louise had no way of telling whether they were locked or not, until, down the near end, she suddenly heard a loud pounding. Miss Stone stopped, and, taking a key from her chain, unlocked the door. A mild-faced woman of about thirty-five came out. I just wanted to see who was coming. She said, ah, a pretty girl. Miss Stone paused and introduced him courteously. The patient was dressed in the blue calico of the institution, but there was nothing queer or odd about her looks. She appeared to be much more normal than Rebecca Adams. This is Mary Louise Gay, said Miss Stone. She has come to live with us, and this, Mary Louise, is Joan of Arc, the girl who saved France, you remember? Oh, gasped Mary Louise in amazement. Was Miss Stone joking, or did the patient really believe she was Joan of Arc? The woman in calico smiled proudly. Yes, she said. I rode right at the head of my soldiers. I told them God was on our side, and we won, but they were going to burn me at the stake for being a witch, if they ever find me. That's why I stay here. I'm safe here, aren't I, Miss Stone? Yes, dear, you're safe, was the nurse's gentle assurance. A lump came into Mary Louise's throat. The pathos of it all. Yet how kind and sweet Miss Stone was. Oh, but ghastly thought. The nurse was being kind to Mary Louise in the same way. That's why she humored her by calling her Mary Louise, and all the time she believed her to be Rebecca Adams. Three doors farther down, the nurse stopped and unlocked another door. This is to be your room, Mary Louise, she said. It'll be nicer when you put some flowers in it. We have a lovely garden, and most of the patients have their own special flower beds. You can grow whatever you like best. Mary Louise looked about her. Never in her life had she seen such a plain room. It contained only a bed, and a wash stand, and one chair. Not even a bureau, or a table. The window was high and uncurtained. To her horror, Mary Louise saw that it was protected by iron bars. You take off your clothing now, and have a bath. You can put your own things in the drawer of that wash stand, and I'll bring you fresh clothing. Everybody wears blue here. Where do I take my bath? Asked Mary Louise dully. Not that she cared in the least, except that it would be something to do. I'll take you to the showers when I come back with your new clothing, replied Miss Stone. And to Mary Louise's dismay, the nurse locked the door from the outside, as she departed. The next twelve hours seemed to Mary Louise the longest she had ever lived through. After her bath, she was told to lie down until supper time. She was entirely alone in that bare room until six o'clock, with nothing to do but think. Finally, an attendant brought her a tray of food, well cooked, and wholesome, but far from dainty. Nevertheless, Mary Louise ate it, for she knew that she must keep up her strength, if she ever hoped to make an escape. Another attendant removed the tray, and she was left alone again until eight o'clock. Then Miss Stone returned. We have a little vesperservice in the reception room, Mary Louise, she said. Would you like to come and join us? The girl jumped up eagerly. Anything would be better than this dreadful idleness. Don't your patients have anything to do? She inquired as she went down the hall with the nurse. Just doing nothing is enough to drive anybody crazy. She smiled to herself at the use of the common expression, and wondered whether Miss Stone noticed it. But the nurse gave no sign of any amusement. Oh yes, Mary Louise, she replied, there will be lots for you to do tomorrow. Everybody takes some share in the work, if possible, unless they are too ill. And we go for walks round the grounds and work in the garden, but we thought you'd be too tired tonight and would just want to rest. They joined a group of perhaps twenty people in the reception room for the singing of hymns, and the same woman who had met Mary Louise at the door of the building read the Bible. Mary Louise looked about curiously at her fellow inmates, and did not find them particularly strange looking. One or two of them had queer staring eyes like Rebecca Adams, but for the most part they appeared normal. Which fact made it all the harder for Mary Louise to prove anything about herself to the caretakers. At nine o'clock the service was over, and everybody went to bed. But exhausted as she was, Mary Louise could not go to sleep. She tried over and over to formulate some plan of escape, but with the locked doors, the constant supervision of nurses and attendants, and that high stone wall, it seemed absolutely hopeless. It was only when the first gray light of dawn broke in the sky that she finally dozed off and then fell into a deep, heavy sleep. End of Chapter 15, Recording by Mary Escano, Chapter 16 of The Mystery of the Fires by Edith Lavelle. The slipperbox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Mary Escano. Weary waiting. Like her daughter, Mrs. Gay did not go to sleep until dawn of the following morning. Her mental torture was even keener than Mary Louise's. For her imagination suggested all sorts of horrible fates, worse than the one the girl was actually enduring. Physical violence, associated with hardened criminals, hunger, thirst, and death. That was the most terrifying thought of all, the fear that Mary Louise might already be dead. Like her daughters, too, Mrs. Gay's suffering was all the more intense, because she had to bear it alone through the long, silent night. Freckles and Jane, tired out from their vigorous search, had fallen instantly asleep. There was nobody to sympathize with the poor frenzied mother. She swallowed dose after dose of aspirin, until finally, with the first gray streaks of dawn, she at last fell asleep. Freckles was the first person awake in the household the next morning, and he immediately started the breakfast. Jane, arriving in the scene fifteen minutes later, was surprised and delighted at the boy's progress. You're better not awaken, mother, he said. I don't suppose she got much sleep last night. I'm afraid not. Tears came to Jane's eyes as they rested on the forlorn little dog sitting so disconsolidly in the corner of the kitchen. Freckles, what do you think could have happened to Mary Louise? She asked. I think Tom Adams did something to her, kidnapped her probably. But I had one idea this morning, Jane, while I was making the coffee. Maybe he hid her in his own house somewhere. We never thought to search that. Bright boy, exclaimed Jane so loudly as to awaken Mrs. Gay, who had heard her from her bedroom. For one ecstatic moment, the woman hoped that her daughter had been found. But Freckles' next remark dispelled any such idea. It's worth looking into, he continued. But I don't really think she's there, or Hattie would come and tell us. I can't believe Hattie is an enemy, or on Tom's side. She's too fond of Mary Louise. Mrs. Gay, attired in a kimono and looking white and exhausted, peered in at the kitchen door. The coffee smells so good, she said. That I just can't wait for a cup of it. Freckles grinned in delight and poured out the steaming liquid. It seemed to revive his mother. And she drank it eagerly. But she could not eat any breakfast. We're going up to Adam's first. Announced the boy. I'll get Stu Robinson to drive us in his car. And we'll take Seeky along. If Mary Louise should be hidden there, Seeky will find her. And mother, if the police come, be sure to have them talk to Horace Dutmore and get a look at that thread you found shoved under his door yesterday. Oh well, dear. Return, Mrs. Gay, smiling to herself at the idea of taking orders from her small son. But the boy was proving himself both practical and business like in the management of the whole affair. I wonder whether Adelaide Dutmore will open her dining room today as she planned, remarked Jane. A lump came into Mrs. Gay's throat. But she managed to reply calmly. I think so. She has all her food bought. And besides, the people are expecting it. Mrs. Reed told me last night that Sue and Mabel are both going to help her. If, if Mary Lou doesn't come back in time, you had better tell Hattie Adams to come down to the Dutmore as soon as she can. Though I don't believe Adelaide is planning to serve lunch. Jane nodded and finished her breakfast. After she and Freckles and the little dog had gone, the people from the other bungalows began to arrive at the gays to start upon a new search for the missing girl. Horace Didmore sent them off in various directions while he and several of the older women stayed behind to help and to advise Mrs. Gay. At 9.30, a small red car drove into Shadynook and stopped at the gays' bungalow. Three plainclothes men got out, displaying their badges for identification. We want the whole story, they said. So far we know nothing except that Mary Louie's Gay of Riverside and Shadynook is missing. We don't know much more ourselves, sighed Mrs. Gay. Then she proceeded to tell the story of the girl's disappearance the preceding afternoon. As far as we know, the last person who saw her alive is Rebecca Adams, a feeble-minded woman who lives over at a farm where we know that Mary Louie started to go. Nobody saw her after that. Have you any suspicions at all? The detective inquired. Horace Didmore answered that question by telling about the three fires at Shadynook and by showing the paper which had warned him of the possibility of a fourth. Mary Louie suspected Tom Adams, the brother of this feeble-minded woman, that we don't know yet upon what clue she based her suspicions. He concluded. But it looks as if Adams was guilty, for he ran away. He didn't take Mary Louie's with him. We know that because his sister drove him to the junction. What we are afraid, he did something to her first. So our first duty is to find this Tom Adams, announced the detective, writing, can you take us over to the farm now, Didmore? Or rather, just one of us. For the other two, better stay here and investigate that threat. And we want a picture of Miss Mary Louie's Gay. We'll get one of Adams and print them both in every newspaper in the country. But that's not the only clue we'll work on. Put in another of the men. That may be entirely wrong. And Miss Gay may just have met with an accident or even lost her memory. There are many cases of that, you know? Mrs. Gay nodded. That was just a trouble. So many dreadful things might have happened to Mary Louie's. However, she resolved to keep up her spirits until she actually heard bad news. She could enjoy the tension in the daytime. She thought, by keeping herself active, perhaps before night, her husband would come. So she hunted out some pictures of Mary Louie's for the detectives and answered their questions for an hour. Just as the two men left to go to Didmars to investigate the threat and the guard Adelaide, the roar of an airplane in the sky drew Mrs. Gay's attention. It was an auto gyro fluttering over a nearby field where there did not happen to be any trees. Breathlessly, she waited while it made its landing. But the motor did not stop and only one man got out of the cockpit. Then, as the auto gyro speeded away, the man on the field began to run towards Shadynook. In another moment, she identified him as her husband, Detective Gay, of the police force. He took the porch steps two at a time and out of breath as he was lifted his trembling wife into his arms. For the first time since the disaster, Mrs. Gay broke down and sobbed. But what a relief it was to give way to her feelings at last. Her husband shared her anguish and understood, comforting her as best that he could with words of assurance. We'll find her, dear. I'm sure we will, he said. Merlew isn't a baby. She'll show lots of pluck and courage. I'm counting on that daughter of ours every time. Have you any plans at all, dear? She inquired. Yes. Lots. I'm going to do a lot of telegraphing as soon as I get the whole story. I was never so thankful before that I'd chosen the detective profession. Have you had anything to eat? Mr. Gay smiled. Now that you mentioned it, I don't believe I have. You might fix me some coffee while you tell me just what happened. Freckles and Jane returned while Mr. Gay was eating his meal, but they had nothing to report. Hattie was sure that Tom could not be guilty. She believed that he was running away from his gambling debts. Nevertheless, she had consented immediately to a thorough search of the house and barn for the missing girl. Yet, even Silky Sharpnose could not find her. The boy was delighted to find his father at home. He felt immediately that a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. For, like Mary Louise, he believed that his father could almost accomplish the impossible. We're going over to the other shore after lunch with Silky. He said. And hunt some more. That's right, son. Approved, Mr. Gay. We'll never give up till we find Mary Lou. None of the other searchers returned with any news all that afternoon. The day was hot and sultry, and too Mrs. Gay, interminable. Everything was so strangely quiet at the little resort. No radios played, no young people shouted to each other or burst into singing. Even the birds seemed hushed, as if they too sensed the tragedy of the usually happy colony. Late in the afternoon, the four girls who were working at the Ditmars went into the river to cool off with a swim. And Mr. Gay decided to join them, but it was more like a bath than a swim, and nobody seemed to enjoy it. Mr. Gay dressed and joined his wife on the porch, waiting for the detectives to return. Suddenly a noisy car came towards them. A bright green roadster, which was somehow familiar, yet did not belong at Shadynook. It was dusty and dirty. Its two occupants wore goggles, as if they had been participating in a race. And until they spoke, neither of the gays recognized them. Then they identified them instantly as Max Miller and Norman Wilder from Riverside. Any news yet? Demanded Max eagerly as he jumped out of the car. No, not a bit, replied Mr. Gay. How did you boys find out about it? Is it in the papers? Isn't the afternoon edition? replied Norman, handing a newspaper to the other. But of course, we started before that. There was a word to the Riverside police last night that we got wide enough, so we started early this morning. I think it's fine of you both to come, said Mrs. Gay, though she could not at the moment see what possible help they might afford. We're going to have a swim, clean up our car, and eat, announced Max. Then we're going to drive all around here with an radius of a hundred miles, tooting our horn and going slowly. I didn't know you boys knew how to drive slowly. Remarked Mr. Gay teasingly. Well, we really don't need to toot our horn. Turned Norman in the same light manner, because the color of our car is loud enough to shriek for us. Mabell and Sue read, passing by the bungalow on their way back to the ditmars, stopped in and met the boys. Mrs. Gay asked them to put two extra places at the dinner table for them. Gradually the searchers returned, without any success, and everybody went to ditmars to dinner. It was a lovely meal. Adelaide Ditmar proved that she knew how to prepare food and serve it attractively, and in spite of their anxiety, everybody enjoyed it. Everybody except Mrs. Gay, who could only pick at her food. True to their resolve, Max and Norman drove off in their car immediately after supper, with Freckles and Jane along with them. The rest of the inhabitants of Shadynook settled down to a quiet evening of waiting, waiting and hoping for news. About eight o'clock, Mr. and Mrs. Fraser came over from the hotel to offer their sympathy to the gays. I don't want to alarm you, Gay, said Fraser. But I think you haven't given enough thought to the river. Mary Louise was playing tennis in our court early in the afternoon, and the most natural thing in the world will be for her to take a swim afterwards. You know yourself that even the best of swimmers have cramps. Mrs. Gay clutched her husband's arm tightly in an effort to control herself. What a horrible suggestion. Carable as it is, drowning is better than lots of things that might happen, remarked Mrs. Fraser. Mrs. Gay glared at the woman with hatred in her eyes. How could she sit there and talk like that? She rose abruptly. You'll have to excuse us now, Mrs. Fraser, she said unsteadily. My husband and I had things to do. The hotelkeeper and his wife got up from their chairs, just as the detective's car stopped at the bungalow. Everybody waited tensely. No news of your daughter, Mrs. Gay, announced one of the detectives immediately. But we are on Adam's trail. He's been spotted, speeding across the country in a stolen car. This afternoon, they found the car, abandoned near a woods, and doubtedly, he's guilty. Fraser's white face became even more pasty looking. Nobody noticed, except Mr. Gay, who made it his business to watch of people's reactions. If I may say something. Put in the hotelkeeper. Looking straight at the detective. I think you're on the wrong crack. Adam's is guilty of a small theft. He stole $200 from me, and he left some gambling debts. That's why he's running away. But I believe your real criminal is right here at Shadynook. Who? Demanded all the detectives at once. Dirtmar, Horace Dirtmar. These parts have proved to be a good thing for him. Dirtmar's took over all that boarding house trade after Flick's inn burned down. Mary Louise was on the inside. So they were probably afraid she'd find out too much and disposed of her. I don't believe a word of it, cried Mrs. Gay angrily. I trust both Adelaide and Horace anywhere. And how about that threat they got? You saw that, she asked the detectives. That was just a clever trick. Explain Fraser lightly. The thrill of suspicion. You notice it has not been carried out. Almost in hysterics, Mrs. Gay felt that she could not bear those dreadful Fraser's another minute. Desperately, she clung to her husband's arm for support. Will you men come inside? Suggested Mr. Gay, realizing how his wife was suffering. Good night, Mrs. Fraser. Good night, Fraser. And so another long night passed without any news of Mary Louise. But it was not so terrible for Mrs. Gay as the first one, because her husband was with her. And Max Miller and Norman Wilder comforted her with the assurance that they were going to find Mary Louise the following day. Somehow, by intuition, perhaps Mrs. Gay believed them. End of Chapter 16, Recording by Mary Escano. Chapter 17 of The Mystery of the Fires by Edith LaVelle. The slipperbox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Mary Escano. Release. While her parents and her friends at Shady Nook were imagining all sorts of horrors for Mary Louise, the day actually passed peacefully for her. It was a terrible shock to wake up in that bare little bedroom with the iron bars at the window. But after the first realization of it was over, she found comfort in work. For, unlike the previous night, she was not allowed to be idle. Miss Stone came in at seven o'clock with a tray of breakfast in her hands. And how do you feel today, dear? She inquired cheerfully. Mary Louise opened sleepy eyes and looked about her, trying to remember where she was. For one ghastly moment, she felt as if she would scream as the horror of the whole thing came back to her. But realizing that such an act would only help to confirm her nurse's belief in her insanity, she managed to control herself. The sun was shining. Miss Stone was kind. Surely, Mary Louise would find the way out. So she smiled back at the woman. I'm fine, Miss Stone, she said. Am I supposed to get dressed? Eat your breakfast first, was the reply. After today, you'll probably eat with the other patients. But the doctor is coming in to make an examination this morning. Mary Louise nodded. And then what do I do? You tidy up your own room and then take some part in the household duties. You may have your choice of cleaning, cooking, washing dishes, or sewing. Then you'll eat lunch in the dining room and spend an hour outdoors in the garden. After that, there's a rest period. When you may read or sew, if you like, we have a small library and there's a class in knitting too, if you prefer. Then supper and vespers. It sounds fine, search better than doing nothing, replied Mary Louise. I think for my particular work, I'll choose cooking. I'm pretty good at cakes and pies. That's nice, dear, concluded Miss Stone, turning towards the door. Be ready to see the doctor in about an hour. May I have a shower? Yes, I'll come back in 15 minutes to take you. But I'm not a baby, protested Mary Louise. I'm quite used to giving myself baths. I know, dear, but it's a rule. Sometimes patients drown themselves if we don't watch them. Maybe, later on. She did not finish the sentence, but left the room, locking the door behind her. It was fair like a nightmare, Mary Louise thought, and she picked up her tray, a dream in which you find yourself locked up somewhere without any means of escape. But she meant to get away just the same, if she had to climb that 10-foot wall to accomplish it. She decided immediately that she would be an exemplary patient, that she would work hard and do everything she was told to do. Gradually, perhaps, her liberty would be increased as the attendants learned that she could be trusted. In spite of her blue calico uniform, Mary Louise looked exceedingly pretty that morning when the doctor came in to see her. Her cheeks were glowing with perfect health, and her dark eyes were smiling, the room as usual as her person was meticulously clean. She identified the doctor immediately as the man who had received her the day before at the door of the institution. "'Good morning, Miss Adams,' he said, regarding her with admiration. "'You're looking well today.' "'I'm fine,' replied Mary Louise. "'Only, my name doesn't happen to be Miss Adams.' She couldn't help adding. The physician smiled, and she detected a shade of pity in his expression. Something like that in Miss Stone's face when she had humored that patient by calling her Joan of Arc. But he made the reply and went ahead with the examination. When Miss Stone returned, he told her that Miss Adams was in perfect physical condition. "'It's only the brain,' thought Mary Louise in secret amusement. How often she and her young friends had made that remark to each other. She resolved never to speak jokingly of insanity again. After the doctor's visit, her day proceeded in the orderly manner which Miss Stone had outlined. She cooked and washed dishes and ate lunch with the patients. Then she went out in the garden where she was assigned a flower bed of her own. But Mary Louise was not interested in flower beds at the moment. She pretended to work, all the while looking about her, at the grounds around the asylum, at the high stone wall below, and into the valley beyond. Across this valley, on a level with the institution, she could see a white road that ran like a ribbon along the hill in the distance. This road, she decided, must be a main highway or at least a drive frequented by automobiles. Otherwise it would not be so smooth and white. Staring at this road in silence, an inspiration came to Mary Louise, an idea that might bring her about her long fore-release. She waited eagerly for the nurse to come over to where she was working, but she was careful to keep her tone matter of fact when she did make her request. Miss Stone must not guess her hidden purpose. May I break off two sticks from some bush? She asked indifferently. I'd like to practice my semaphore. What's that there? Inquired Miss Stone skeptically. Is it anything dangerous? Mary Louise smiled. Oh no, it's just part of a Girl Scout training. You've heard of Girl Scouts, haven't you? Yes, I believe I have. Anyway, I've heard of Boy Scouts, so I suppose the Girl Scouts is an organization like theirs for girls. That's right, agreed Mary Louise. And I've always been very much interested in it. I don't want to forget all that I've learned. So if I had a couple of sticks and a needle and thread, I could make a pair of flags and practice every day. She uttered the last sentence haltingly. Fearful lest Miss Stone might guess her reason for wanting them and refuse. But as the nurse had no idea that semaphore meant signaling messages, she was entirely unsuspicious. And it had always been her policy to humor her patients in pursuit of any harmless amusements. So that afternoon, she brought Mary Louise's needles and cotton and scissors and sat with her while she cut up her red and white sports dress for the flags. It seemed a pity, Miss Stone thought, to destroy such a pretty dress. But it was not likely that Mary Louise would ever need it again. It was a sad fact that few of their patients ever returned to the outside world. Mary Louise finished her flags just before supper and laid them carefully away behind the wash stand. Tomorrow, oh, happy thought, she would try her luck. Hope is indeed a great tonic. Mary Louise went right to sleep that night and slept soundly until morning. She performed her duty so quickly and with such intelligence that even Miss Stone began to wonder whether there had not been some mistake in confining the girl to the institution. But as they did not take a daily paper at the asylum and as they were entirely cut off from the outside world, she had no way of knowing about the desperate search that was going on all over the country for Mary Louise's gay. Now that I have finished my work, may I go out into the garden and practice my semaphore for an hour before lunch? The girl asked her nurse. Yes, certainly, agreed Miss Stone. I'll go with you, because I want to spray the roast bushes. Mary Louise was not so pleased to be accompanied, but after all, Miss Stone's presence would mean freedom from other attendants. Nobody would molest her while her own nurse was with her. She selected a spot high up on the terrace from whence she could plainly see the ribbon of white grode across the valley. Then she began to signal her message. I am Mary Louise's gay. Help. Over and over again, she repeated the same letters, hope coming into her heart each time a car swung into view, the spare taking possession of her when it failed to stop. Perhaps she thought she was too far away to be seen. She glanced behind her at the green bushes and moved along where she might have the gray wall of the institution for her background. Red and white, she'd show up brilliantly in contrast to summer gray. Half an hour passed, during which, perhaps, a dozen cars went by without stopping, and Mary Louise's arms became weary, but she did not give up. Sometimes she was certain one of her own friends' cars would come over that hill and stop. Miss Stone, watching the girl out of the corner of her eye, nodded sadly to herself. She must be crazy, after all, she decided to go through that silly routine over and over again. Intelligent on most subjects, as she had discovered Mary Louise to be, she must be unbalanced on this particular obsession. Still, Mary Louise went on trying. I am Mary Louise's gay. Help. She signaled again for the 24th time as a small, bright car appeared on the road. The car was proceeding very slowly. It looked as if it could scarcely climb the hill. Then, to the girl's intense joy, she watched it stop. Perhaps it was only because of a faulty engine, or a puncture, but, oh, it was stopping. Her heart beat so fast, and her hands trembled so that she could hardly repeat the message, but she forced herself to go through it again. This might be her one chance, her vital hope of escape. She knew now what it must feel like to be abandoned at sea, and all at once to glimpse a sail on the empty waters, bringing hope and rescue and life if it stopped. But, oh, the utter despair if it continued on its course unheeding. Two figures which looked like little dwarves in the distance jumped out of the car and stood still, evidently watching Mary Louise's motions. Frantic with excitement, she spelled the message again, this time very slowly, forming the letters carefully and pausing a long second between each word. I am Mary Louise Gay. Help, help, help. The two tiny figures waited until she had finished and then waved their arms frantically. She watched them in feverish anguish as they returned to the car and took something from the back of it. For five long minutes, they visited themselves in some way which she could not understand, or she waited, tense with emotion. Miss Stone strolled over and spoke to her, startling her so that she almost dropped her flags. Tired, dear, inquired the nurse sympathetically. No, no, protested Mary Louise. Let me stay 15 minutes more, please. Her eyes were still fixed upon the car across the valley. One of the men was stepping away from it now, holding up both arms which waved two dark flags, made from clothing, perhaps, on the spur of the moment, and then he began to signal. Breathlessly, Mary Louise watched the letters as they came, spelling out words that brought floods of joy to her heart, overwhelming her with happiness such as she had never known before. For the message which she read was this, we are coming, Mary Lou, Max, and Norman. Great tears of bliss rushed to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Her hands trembled and her arms grew limp. In the exhaustion of her relief, she dropped down weakly to the ground. Miss Stone came and bent over her anxiously, fearing that some curious spell had come over Mary Louise. A fit perhaps, which would explain why her brother had wished to confine this girl in the asylum. I'll help you up there, the nurse said, and we'll go into the house. You had better lie than for a while. But I'm all right, exclaimed Mary Louise, jumping happily to her feet. My friends are coming for me, Miss Stone. She threw her arms around the woman and hugged her. Two boys from my hometown in Riverside. Yes, yes, dear, agreed Miss Stone. Sure now that Mary Louise was raving, but come inside now and rest. No, I don't want to rest, objected the girl. He said I could stay out till lunch, and there's still 10 minutes left. I want to wait for Max and Norman. All right, dear, if you'll promise to calm yourself. Sit down there on the step while I finish these rose bushes. Mary Louise did as she was told, keeping her eyes fixed on the gate, wondering how long it would take for the boys to get across that valley, hoping that they wouldn't get lost. She picked up her homemade flags and touched them lovingly. Suppose I'd never joined the Girl Scouts, and suppose I'd never become an expert signaler. She thought, she shivered at the very idea. She did not have to wait long, however. In less than 10 minutes, she saw the Gardener unlock the big iron gate and a dear, familiar green roadster speed up the hill and stop at the door of the asylum. In an instant, both boys were out of the car. Max was the first to reach Mary Louise. Without any question of permission, he took her into his arms and kissed her again and again. The Norman kissed her too, not quite so ardently as Max. Finally, she freed herself laughingly from their embraces and introduced them to Miss Stone. The boys looked questioningly at the woman. If she had been responsible for the kidnapping of Mary Louise, why was the girl so polite to her? Max took a revolver from his pocket, just to be prepared in case of violence. Mary Louise laughed merrily. You don't need that, Max, she said. Miss Stone wouldn't do anything desperate. She's a nurse. A nurse? Is this a hospital? A alarm crept into Max's voice. Oh, Mayor Lou, you're not hurt, are you? No, not a bit. Don't you know what kind of place this is, Max? It's an asylum for the insane. I'm supposed to be crazy. Horrified, Max sprang forward and seized Miss Stone by the arm. What kind of diabolical plot is this? He demanded. Who's a accomplice, are you? He pulled a newspaper out of his pocket and shook it in the nurse's face. The whole country's frantic over the disappearance of Mary Louise Gay. Miss Stone gazed at the picture in the paper with increasing fear. Had she and the rest of the staff at the asylum been accomplices to a hideous crime? But Mary Louise replied for her assuringly. Miss Stone's innocent, Max, she replied. Please let her go. So are the others here. They're just obeying orders. Tom Adams put me in here, calling me his feeble-minded sister Rebecca. He really does happen to have one. You may have heard. And I understand her papers. For her confinement were filed once before. Mr. Fraser signed my commitment too, pretending to be a cousin. Those two men are the only guilty ones. Tom Adams! Repeated Max and Norman at the same time, and Norman added. Yes, that's what Freckle said. We're looking for Tom Adams. He ran away from Shady Newt, or whatever it is he lives. The police are after him. What about Fraser? Demanded Mary Louise. Is he guilty? Asked Max. More so than Tom, replied the girl. Oh, I must get back to tell the police before Fraser sneaks away. She turned to the nurse. May I go with the boys now? I'll have to ask the doctor, replied Miss Stone, hurrying inside to the office. It took no persuasion at all, however, to obtain the doctor's consent. As soon as he read the account in the newspaper, and saw that Tom Adams was a fugitive from the law, he gladly agreed to let Mary Louise go free. In fact, he was anxious that she should, lest he be blamed for participation in the crime. So Mary Louise jumped into the car between the two boys. And in less than an hour, she saw the dear familiar trees of Shady Newt in the distance. As the car approached her own bungalow, she could distinguish her mother, yes, and her father, sitting on a porch in an attitude of hopeless despair. Oh, what fun it was going to be to surprise them so joyfully. End of Chapter 17, Recording by Mary Escano. Chapter 18 of The Mystery of the Fires by Edith Lavelle. The slipperbox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Mary Escano. Return. Both Mr. and Mrs. Gay looked up disconsolidately as the green car approached. Suddenly their expressions of listlessness changed to incredulity, then to rapture. Mary Louise was home. In another second, the girl had flown up the steps and was hugging both parents at once. Mrs. Gay could only gasp in her happiness. It was Mr. Gay who asked his daughter whether she was unhurt and unharmed. I'm fine, returned Mary Louise joyfully, and oh, so happy, darling, murmured her mother. Her voice choked with emotion. Now praise these wonderful boys, insisted the girl, my rescuers. Max and Norman tried to look modest and to waive aside their accomplishment with the gesture, but Mr. Gay seized their hands in a fervor of gratitude. I can't find words to tell you what it means to us, he said. You two boys have succeeded where four professional detectives failed. It's, it's marvelous. Oh, it wasn't anything at all, except persistence in our part. Explain, Max. The real credit goes to Mary Lou. It was a swell idea, she had. What idea? Demanded Mr. Gay, signaling for help with semaphore flags, just as we all used to do in the scouts. But where were you, Mary Lou? Asked her father. Sit down and tell us all about it. First, tell me whether you're hungry. Putting her mother. No, not especially, replied Mary Louise. They fed us pretty well at the insane asylum. It was pretty fun to watch her parents startled expressions at this announcement. Fun now, that the experience was all over. Insane asylum! They both repeated in horror, and then for the first time they noticed her blue calico dress. Mary Louise nodded and proceeded to tell her story. Briefly and quickly, for she remembered that she wanted to catch the two criminals. Has Mr. Fraser run away too? She inquired when she had finished. No, he was over at his hotel, replied Mr. Gay. I saw him this morning. You must arrest him, Daddy, cried the girl. He was the cause of the three fires at Shadynook. I know it. But how do you know, Mary Lou? Asked her father. What proof have you? I overheard him and Tom Adams talking in the hotel garage. They didn't actually mention fires, but I'm sure they meant them. I have their conversation done in my notebook. I left it in my desk. It's probably still there. I suppose, suggested Mr. Gay. But you tell us the story of your suspicions and clues from the beginning. While I'm getting lunch, added Mrs. Gay. Mary Louise ran into her bedroom and found the little notebook. I'll just change my dress, she called laughingly, and be with you in a minute, but tell me where Jane and Freckles are. Out hunting for you, with Silky, was the reply. A couple of minutes later, she returned to the porch, looking more like herself in her own modern clothing. She sat down on the swing and opened her notebook. I first suspected Tom Adams the day after Flix Inn burned down, she began. All of the people of Shadenook were over on the little island that night on the picnic, and Hattie Adams told me she expected to have Tom take her, but he wasn't anywhere to be found, and the boy saw a big fellow in the woods who answered his description. But I sort of gave up the idea of his being guilty when I heard he had lost some work by Flix Inn burning down. It threw me off the track for a while. I really suspected his feeble-minded sister Rebecca. Then the smith's house caught fire, and Rebecca gave us a warning. So I suspected her all the more. Finding that pack of clipped cards in the can of water didn't prove a thing to me. I never believed he was guilty. It was absurd to arrest him, commented Mr. Gay. The blundering idiot who caused it. Merlewies' laugh ran out merrily. Ha! You and Jane will have to get together, Dad, she said. You agree so perfectly about David McCall? Never did care for the fellow. Her father muttered. Give me men with brains, and sense. He looked admiringly at Max and Norman. But get on with the story, Merlew. It was the day after the smith's fire that I really seriously suspected Tom Adams. She continued. I trailed him to the store at four corners, and found him gambling. He told the man that he'd pay him a hundred dollars, which he expected to collect immediately, and that set me thinking. Why? inquired Max. Because a farmhand doesn't earn a hundred dollars so easily, especially from tight wads like Fraser. Everybody knows that man pays miserable wages. Then besides that, I overheard Tom Adams explaining a card trick, and that fact made me guess that he had gotten hold of one of Cliff's decks of cards, and either accidentally or purposely dropped them at the smith's. Mr. Gay nodded approvingly. He loved to watch the logical working of his daughter's mind. So I began to put two and two together, she went on. Somebody was paying Tom a lot of money. Lots more than a hundred dollars, I learned, for doing something. But I asked myself, could the job be except setting those houses on fire, and who wanted them burned down, except Fraser, or possibly Horace Dittmar, who, as you know, is an architect? So you narrowed your suspects down to two people besides Tom Adams? inquired Mr. Gay admiringly. Yes, and when Adelaide Dittmar got that threat, I was positive Fraser was responsible. He wanted the business, and he was doing everything he could to get it, but even then I had no proof. So what did you do? asked Max. And why did Tom Adams suspect that you knew anything? It was all because of this conversation, answered Mayor Louise, opening her notebook. I overheard it near Fraser's garage, and then I was stupid enough to let them see me. I even told them I was going over to the farm to talk to Hattie. That was a mistake, remarked Mr. Gay. A mistake I paid for pretty dearly, agreed the girl, but it's all over now. So it really doesn't matter. Now, let me read you the conversation between Fraser and Tom Adams on the afternoon I was taken away. Quickly, in the words of the two men, she read to her listeners of Tom's demand for money, and Mr. Fraser's reluctant compliance with his claims. When she had finished, she looked eagerly at her father. Isn't Fraser guilty? She asked. Of course he's guilty, agreed the detective. But he won't ever admit it. He'll squirm out of it, because we haven't got proof in so many words. He'll say he was talking about something entirely different to Tom Adams. But can't he be arrested? Persisted Mayor Louise, a note of disappointment creeping into her voice. I don't see how, until we find Tom Adams. He'll establish Fraser's guilt all right. I can't see Adam shouldering the blame alone. Mayor Louise frowned. She hated the idea of the hotelkeeper's freedom, even though it might be only temporary. But suddenly, her face lighted up with inspiration. I have it! She cried. He can be arrested for signing that paper, confining me to the insane asylum. Can't he, Dad? Mr Gay looked startled. What paper? He demanded. Mayor Louise explained that, since the commitment had to be signed by two relatives of the patient, Mr Fraser had posed as her cousin. That was enough, Mr Gay said immediately. All that they needed, as evidence, was the paper itself. They would drive over to the institution that afternoon, and secure it. Luncheon was indeed a happy meal in the gay household that day. Though Freckles and Jane did not return, the two boys and Mayor Louise kept up a constant banter of laughter and merriment. Mr and Mrs Gay were quieter, but a light of rapture shone in their eyes. Just at the conclusion of the meal, Mrs Hunter and Cliff arrived, prepared to enter a house of misery and fear. They could not believe their ears as they heard the gaiety from within. Mary Lou cried Cliff incredulously. Cliff exclaimed the girl, jumping up and running to the screen door. You're free. And you're home. Returned the young man, seizing both of her hands. In spite of his arrest, Clifford Hunter was the same carefree young person. In a few minutes, he was showing his card tricks to Max and Norman, delighted to find a new audience. When the whole story had been retold to the hunters, with the caution that they say nothing of it to Mr Fraser, Mayor Louise and the three boys walked around the little resort to tell everybody their glad news. Then she and her father and Max took the car and drove to the Adams Farm. Mr Gay thought it would be wise to take old Mr Adams with them to visit the asylum, and Mayor Louise thought it would be interesting to bring Rebecca. To let Miss Stone and the other attendants meet the real Rebecca Adams. With Max at the wheel, they had no difficulty in finding the asylum. What fun it was, Mayor Louise thought, to pass through those iron gates now, knowing that she was safe. Yet instinctively she reached for her father's hand and held it securely as the car proceeded up the long driveway. The same doctor and the same head nurse came out to receive them, as upon Mayor Louise's first visit. Mr Gay displayed his badge at once, and explained his errand. The woman nodded and hurried into the office for the paper. While she was gone, Rebecca Adams, growing restless, stepped out of the car, lugging her heavy water pitcher in her arms. At the same moment, Miss Stone, Mayor Louise's special nurse, came out of the building. Miss Stone, I want you to meet the real Rebecca Adams, said Mayor Louise, with a twinkle in her eye. Rebecca turned eagerly to the nurse. Can you show me where there is a well of clear water? She asked immediately. Yes, replied Miss Stone gravely. Back of the building. We have a fine well. Cried the woman in ecstasy. At last, she looked over at her father, and there were tears of earnestness in her eyes. Let me stay here, father. This is my home, where I want to live. Her voice grew more wistful. A well of clear water. She repeated, please take me to it, kind lady. Perhaps it is for the best, agreed old Mr. Adams. It's nobody to take good care of Rebecca at home, now that her mother's dead, and I'm crippled up with rheumatism, you can stay if she wants to. And so, at her own request, Rebecca Adams took up her life at the quiet institution, and the rest of the party. With a paper, which was to be used as evidence against Fraser in their hands, drove back to Shadynook. Meryl Louise went into a bedroom and put on her prettiest dress, awaiting the arrival of Jane and Freckles and her friends, what a glorious evening it was going to be for them all. Recording by Meryl Scano. Conclusion Meryl Louise was putting the last dabs of powder on her nose when she heard the car stop at the porch's steps. Peering through the screen window of her bedroom, she immediately decided that it must be the detectives. Yes, and oh joy of joys, they had Tom Adams with them. In another moment, the men were out of the car and up on the porch where her father joined them. Congratulations, exclaimed Mr. Gay. I see that you got Tom Adams, but I remember him now. Yes, answered one of the men. But he won't admit a thing about your daughter, he says he never saw Meryl Louise after she went back to the tennis court that afternoon. On what grounds could you arrest him then? Demanded Mr. Gay. He stole the car on its way to the west. Meryl Louise repressed a giggle and turned away from the window. Her father evidently meant to find out what he could before he announced his daughter's return. You have a sister, Rebecca, haven't you, Adams? He inquired. The young man nodded. Yes, she feeble-minded. Why? We know that Meryl Louise saw her the afternoon she disappeared. Rebecca told her so, and she also said that you came home that afternoon just as my daughter started to leave the farm. Rebecca smiled wonders a lot, muttered Tom. She don't know what she's talking about half the time. He shifted his feet uneasily. You have been thinking of putting Rebecca into an asylum? Persisted Mr. Gay. Yeah, we considered it. Why? Because she's in one now, announced Mr. Gay calmly. Of her own free will, an asylum about twenty miles from here, a doctor fetter I believe is the head of the institution. He paused and gazed intently at Tom. The young man's jaw dropped, his face grew white, and his hands trembled. Mr. Gay burst out laughing, and Meryl Louise came out to the screen door. Hello Tom, she said quietly. The young man started as if he had seen a ghost, but he managed to stammer a reply. Uh, hello Miss Gay. He said all three of the plainclothes men stepped forward in amazement. You found her gay? They demanded of Mr. Louise's father. No, answered Mr. Gay. To be frank, I didn't. The girl for young friends from Riverside did. She was confined in an insane asylum about twenty miles from Shadynook, under the name of Rebecca Adams. All of Tom's pretends fell away from him at this announcement. He knew his game was up. His limbs grew weak. He groveled at the men's feet. Don't send me to the chair. He cried. I didn't harm her, she's all right, ain't she? We'll let the judge and the jury decide that, replied Mr. Gay. Now, suppose you sit down there and tell us the truth, Adams. You might as well, for we know most of it already. The young man crawled into a seat, but he made no attempt to tell his story. We know that you burned three houses here at Shadynook, said Mr. Gay. We know, too, that you did it because you were bribed by Fraser. Didn't he pay you a certain sum of money to start those fires? Yes, he did, acknowledged Tom. He gave me five hundred dollars. Why did he want them burned down? Asked one of the plainclothes men. He figured that he'd get five hundred at least from the hunters during the summer, entertain the friends at all. Then, Flick's fire turned out to be better business yet. All the folks from Shadynook, except the Digmas, began eating at the hotel once they and their scum, and smiths burned down, brought all them children and servants, and even the ma and pa over to the royal. Did Fraser expect to burn any more cottages? What's the next question? No, he wasn't planning on it, only when Mrs. Digmas started up a boarding house and took his business away from him. That made him sore. But I wasn't going to do no more dirty work. I figured I'd just get my money and clear it out. I never did expect to burn Digmas, only threading them. But what made you do that dreadful thing to Mary Louise? Demanded Mr. Gay. I wanted to get rid of her till I made my gateway. Fraser and me were scared she was on to something and it was sent for you and you'd figured it all out Mr. Gay. Fraser thought if I was gone he'd be saved. He'd just deny everything. The idea of calling Mary Louise Rebecca just popped into my head when she told us she was going over to the farm to see Hattie that afternoon. I knew Hattie and Dad was off to the fair, so I jumped in my car and run over to the asylum and made the arrangements. We just got back in time to nap her. One of the men stood up. Detective Gay, he said, I think you and I had better go over and arrest Fraser now. These two other men can take charge of Adams. He turned to Mary Louise who was still standing in the doorway. Is there any question you want to ask this criminal, Miss Gay, before we take him away? Yes, answered Mary Louise, stepping through the doorway. I would like to know how that pack of cards came to be dropped at the smiths the night of their fire. How Tom happened to have them in his possession? The young man flushed. One day I was watching Hunter do a trick on the hotel porch. I noticed he put the cards in his coat pocket. Later on he hung the coat over the back of a chair while he went off to play tennis. So I sneaked up and took him out of his pocket to use to show the trick to the boys. I thought they was mugged, but they wasn't. Hunter sure is clever at tricks. Then when I heard people was suspecting him of burning his own cottage done for the insurance, I thought I might as well help that suspicion along. So I dropped this pack of cards into that can of water at the smiths. Insurance, it worked. Mary Louise's eyes were filled with contempt, but she did not put her feeling into words. Instead she nodded to the detectives and the men all left the porch. 15 minutes later Fraser's arrest was accomplished and the three plainclothes men started for Albany with both criminals in their custody. Mary Louise and her parents watched them go with a sigh of relief. That's that, said her father with a smile. Now if only Jane and Freckles would come, added her mother, we could be perfectly happy. It's time to go to dinner. In a couple of minutes, Mrs. Gay's wish was granted. Down the road half a dozen young people came running for they had just received the wonderful news that Mary Louise was back. Silke reached his mistress first. Then Freckles arrived with Jane and four of the boys close behind. Never if she lived to be a hundred would Mary Louise forget that wonderful dinner at the Dittmars, the joy of being back home again, the happiness of her friends, the companionship of her father. Oh, everything seemed perfect that night to the lovely brown-eyed girl. And not least of it all was the satisfaction of knowing that the mystery of the fires was solved at last. Shadynook was safe again for everybody to enjoy for many, many summers to come. End of Chapter 19, Recording by Mary Escano. End of The Mystery of the Fires by Edith Lavelle.