The Merriweather Girls and the Mystery of the Queen's Fan

CHAPTER XV
UNDER SUSPICION

Bet Baxter insisted that Phil Gordon was not mistaken when he said he had put the ivory fan on her father's desk. But the detective shook his head and later in a talk to Chief Baldwin said:

"It looks bad for that young man, Chief. He was the last to have it. He acknowledges he's hard up, and he knew its value."

"You're barking up the wrong tree, Longworth. Everybody knows Phil Gordon and would trust him anywhere."

"All the more reason why he can act so brazen and innocent in the matter. It looks bad," Detective Longworth announced. "I've seen so many cases just like it. I'll keep my eye on that young fellow and I bet I'll get the goods on him."

The detective's suspicions travelled at a lively rate around the village and before twenty-four hours it came to the ears of the Merriweather Girls. It was Edith Whalen and her shadow, Vivian Long, who passed on the gossip to Joy Evans.

"Now what do you think of your friend Phil Gordon?" asked Edith. "I guess Bet didn't know she was associating with a thief. I saw him with that fan at the party and he was acting in a suspicious way. Lots of folks are sure he stole it."

"Who says Phil took the fan?" demanded Joy.

"Everybody's saying it! And the detective seems to think he has the clue pretty well run down and expects to arrest Phil any time now." Edith asserted with venom in her voice.

"I don't believe a word of it!" snapped Joy.

Indignation was at its highest pitch when Joy told Bet and her chums what Edith had said.

"Now we've just got to do something!" exclaimed Shirley. "We must clear Phil and that's all there is about it!"

"All right, what will we do first?" Kit jumped to her feet, ready for action.

"Who would have any interest in the fan, besides your father?" Shirley questioned Bet.

"Another antique dealer might, but no one would know he had it," Bet's eyes were bright and intense with anxiety.

"What about Peter Gruff?" cried Kit. "I never trusted that old man! And he was interested in that picture of the fan."

"But he's interested in all old things, and you heard him say that it was a common type and had no particular value," said Shirley. "No, I don't believe old Peter would want it that badly."

"I'm not so sure. I wasn't impressed with Peter Gruff, as you know. I'm going to prowl around his shop and see what I can see," laughed Kit as she grabbed her hat and coat.

"Wait a minute and we'll go down to Shirley's Shop," cried Bet. "I can't believe such a thing of old Peter but we won't leave anything undone."

And as soon as the girls reached the shop, Kit went over to Peter Gruff's store. She asked to see samplers. "We'd like to have a few for our shop," she remarked to the old man.

"No samplers!" muttered Peter. "I don't keep any. No money in samplers."

"Let me see some pewter pitchers, then." Kit was enjoying the musty old store with its strange collection of odds and ends, piled everyway about the dust-laden store.

Peter Gruff didn't have any pewter pitchers.

"Then, do you happen to have any fans?" exclaimed Kit suddenly, hoping to surprise the old man into looking guilty.

"No money in fans. I don't sell fans."

And Kit had to acknowledge that there was not the slightest change of expression in his hard blue eyes.

But as she poked her way about the place she saw a glass case and inside among bottles, books, old china and other objects, she saw several fans. She edged closer to the case and glanced through the assortment, but the fan she wanted was not there.

Of course she hardly expected to find it. If Peter had taken the fan, he would hide it away for a while at least.

"But there is something suspicious about him. Saying he didn't have any fans, when they were right there all the time," Kit confided to the chums when she returned to the shop.

"It does look suspicious!" Joy cried. "Girls, I do believe we are hot on the trail."

"I wish I could believe it!" Bet was not optimistic. "I don't believe he did it. He's heard of the theft of the fan and acts a little embarrassed. I do wish Dad were here!"

"I don't. I want to find that fan before he returns," announced Shirley with quiet decision.

"I hope we do!" said Bet.

"We're Merriweather Girls and we must find a way out of this difficulty. Lady Betty saved the Manor in her day, now we will do the same!" Kit said decidedly.

"Yes, but how?" groaned Bet. "I've thought and thought about it until my head whirls."

The more the girls puzzled over the mystery, the less light appeared. Kit made daily visits to the antique shop, hoping to find something suspicious. She made friends with Jacques, the freckled-faced little French boy who worked for Peter. He was shy at first, but Kit soon put him at ease with her kindly smile. He gazed up at her with big, dark eyes that expressed his devotion. Kit had won his heart, and the girls saw him often staring up from the basement window, hoping to get a glimpse of her.

One day when Kit was looking over the assortment in the glass case of Peter's shop, she was surprised to find that the fans had been removed. She was about to ask Jacques where they were when Old Peter Gruff returned.

"You know, Mr. Gruff, I just love your shop! I hope you don't mind me prowling around and looking at things."

She got only a curt grunt in reply, but Kit didn't mind. She went on: "That's awfully kind of you! I'm going to come often."

Kit always returned from her visits with new suspicions. Although she had found no clue, she insisted that the old man was guilty.

"Kit, I'm surprised at you!" declared the gentle Shirley. "He's a harmless old man, and I don't believe he would steal from Colonel Baxter."

"Maybe he wouldn't," Kit returned with a frown, "but I still have my doubts. I wish I had his shop to myself for half a day, then I'd make sure the fan was not hidden there. – Or I'd find it."

"Why couldn't you send him up to the Manor to fix a chair or something?" exclaimed Joy.

"He'd probably see through it. Peter Gruff is foxy," replied Bet. "Anyway I had orders long ago never to let the old man in the house when Dad was away."

"So your father didn't trust him?" cried Kit exultantly.

"Well Dad just thought it would be better not to put temptation in his way. He's crazy about old bric-a-brac, you know. And Dad didn't know what he might be up to."

Kit got her chance to have the shop to herself the next day. Old Peter Gruff left early in the morning, and Jacques was alone.

"It's luck, Kit," shouted Bet. "Come right away!"

Jacques smiled and bowed as the girls filed in. And when Kit asked him to see pewter, brass, crystal, one right after the other, the boy raced around furiously to please her.

"I want to go down stairs," said Kit with a smile.

"Mr. Gruff doesn't want people down stairs," began the boy, but before he had finished his sentence, Kit was already on the lowest step.

But the store room was so packed with things that it was impossible to move about. Two dim lights gave only enough glow to cast heavy shadows about the vault-like cellar. There was something sinister about the gloom.

"Let's get out of here while the getting's good!" whispered Joy. "I feel as if someone might jump up any minute from behind these old bureaus. I believe the place is haunted."

"No, don't go yet," pleaded Kit. "I haven't seen half enough. Who cares for ghosts, anyway? Say Jacques, what does Mr. Gruff keep in that old cabinet there?"

"Just some old china and fans and things."

"Let's see the fans," Kit demanded.

"Funny how everybody wants to see fans lately," said Jacques. "A big tall man, then a young man, then you girls."

Kit started violently. "Who was the tall man?" she asked abruptly.

"I dunno!" replied Jacques. "Phil Gordon came and asked Peter questions, and the old man got mad and said, 'Git out!'"

While he was talking Jacques had brought out the fans at Kit's request, but they were cheap and not any particular value.

"I wonder what Phil found out," mused Bet.

But whatever Phil's object was in going to the antique shop, it strengthened the suspicion against him. The detective, who had been watching him for days, was now assured that the boy was trying to dispose of the fan and on questioning Peter Gruff, he believed that his suspicions were correct.

Phil had asked the old man if he ever bought fans. Mr. Longworth reported this to Bet Baxter and the next day when she met Phil on the street, he hurried by as if anxious to avoid a talk with her.

Bet was wild with anxiety. Phil had looked at her in such a guilty way. She hurried home and, once inside the house, she burst into tears. "What's the matter with Phil Gordon, anyway? He couldn't have taken that fan. Then why does he act like a thief?"

That afternoon Bet was moping about the house when her three chums arrived. Vacation would soon be over and they were making the most of those two short weeks. But Bet was not in a mood for merry-making. Another letter had come from her father regarding the fan. It read:

"I know you have been prompt in looking after the fan as I told you to do. It is the greatest satisfaction that in matters of this sort I can trust you implicitly. I am rejoicing that the money I will receive from the fan will meet the demands of my creditors and that I'll not have to sell the Manor. The lucky little fan has saved us!"

"Girls, what am I going to do?" Bet sobbed as she finished reading the letter to them.

"I know one thing, Bet Baxter. A Merriweather Girl doesn't waste time and energy in tears! Lady Betty scorned tears!" declared Shirley.

"She looks as if she had never had a trouble in the world," sighed Bet, looking up at the picture.

"Laugh and the world laughs with you!" hummed Joy. "Cheer up, the worst is yet to come!"

"Keep quiet, Joy Evans. Those are about the silliest speeches a human being can make. I wish you'd go home – oh no, Joy, I don't mean that, I'm just worried."

"Of course you are, old dear. We all know it and want to help you, if we can. Come on out and have a snowball match."

It was a glorious day, sharp and sparkling and the snow crunched under their feet as they walked.

"This is the sort of weather when I long to go on a hike," said Shirley. "If it wasn't for this trouble we're having I'd suggest it."

"Let's go tomorrow anyway!" exclaimed Bet impulsively. "That is, unless something very important comes up. We're not accomplishing anything by hanging around the house and brooding."

"Right you are, Bet!" shouted Joy, as she threw a snowball at Kit. "If we take a brisk hike through the woods maybe the wind will blow the cobwebs out of our brains and we'll be able to think of some way to find that fan."

"The detective is on the job. I'm sure he'll find a clue," remarked Shirley quietly.

They returned to the house and found Uncle Nat disturbed over a visit from Amos Longworth. "Why that man was quizzing me up just as if he thought I stole the fan!"

"That detective is loco," laughed Kit, using a term from her beloved mountains.

"What does loco mean, Kit?" asked Joy.

"It means he's crazy! The horses get crazy in the mountains from eating a weed by that name. That's the way with Mr. Longworth; he's been eating loco weed."

"I'll say he has," Joy agreed merrily.

When the girls separated for the night they had made their plans to start the next day at eleven o'clock for a hike. That would give them plenty of time to hear anything that the detective might find out.

That evening Bet received a message from Mrs. Gordon. During the talk she told Bet that Phil was worrying himself sick over the theft of the fan.

"I know Phil wouldn't do it, Bet," his mother exclaimed.

"Of course he wouldn't. We girls have never blamed him, not even for a second. It's that silly detective! Don't worry about it. We'll find it, somehow!"

Bob Evans had gone away the day after the party and when he came back and heard the accusation against Phil, he was ready to fight.

"The very first person I met when I got off the train told me that Phil had stolen the fan belong to Colonel Baxter," he told Joy.

"Who said it?" cried Joy.

"A great friend of yours."

"No friend of mine would accuse Phil. The whole thing is ridiculous!"

"Why Edith Whalen said he was going to arrested within twenty-four hours!"

"Lots she knows about it! But if that detective had his way, he might be. I can't imagine anyone paying a man to be so stupid. We girls have told him again and again that Phil had nothing to do with it."

"Has Phil been asked up to the Manor since that happened?" asked Bob.

"No, I don't think so. He's been up several times but it has been with the detective or Chief Baldwin."

"Then you girls ought to ask him to go with you, just to show him and everybody else chat you don't believe a word of all this gossip! Phil wouldn't steal! I'd trust him with anything!"

But while Bob stormed and determined to clear his friend in some way, his efforts were not successful. He made it a point to have Phil with him wherever he went, but that did not clear the boy of suspicion.

The girls, as well as Bob, were anxious to do something for their friend, but as the fan had disappeared and there was no evidence left, they seemed to be getting nowhere. Bet and her chums were desperate.

The girls looked forward to the hike in the snow as a diversion that would rest their tired nerves and help them to see more clearly on their return.

CHAPTER XVI
HERMIT'S HUT

The next morning the girls found Bet with a tired, worried frown on her face. "Girls, I just can't go!" she said.

"Bet dear, don't give up the hike. You're brooding too much over the lost fan. Come on!" pleaded Shirley.

"Yes, Bet dear, don't back out! It will do you worlds of good!" And Kit put both arms about her tenderly. "You're making yourself sick with all this worry!"

"No. I almost feel as if I were leaving something undone!"

"But I've often noticed that when you go at something else, the thing you are worrying about completely clears up. Come on, get your hat and coat." Joy added her persuasion. "You've been worrying too much to think straight, otherwise you'd have solved the problem long ago or found a clue."

Bet finally gave in, but not quite willingly. School would begin on Monday and after that the girls would not have so much time to work on the problem. Bet wondered how she could ever put her mind on algebra and history when the mystery of the lost fan still hung over her.

Shirley had brought along her photographic outfit and said, "Please don't back out, Bet, for then none of them will go without you, and I do want to set my camera for a wild animal. I'm almost sure we'll see deer tracks. Wouldn't I be happy if I could get a picture of a deer for that wild animal picture contest?"

"And I suppose we'll be expected to stand around on one foot while you tinker with all those attachments and shutters and other crazy things," fussed Joy.

"I won't ask you to stand on one foot. You can use both and I won't charge you a cent more," replied Shirley with the slightest note of annoyance in her voice. Shirley was quiet and even-tempered and was always the peace-maker when the atmosphere between the chums became charged with strife.

"All right, Shirley. It's your affair, only don't ask me to carry one of those boxes. I'll have enough with this lunch, knowing we will soon make it lighter."

"Yes, you would fuss about everything except your lunch, Joy Evans," snapped Shirley, now thoroughly cross. "Come on, girls, let's go!" and Shirley hastened out the door in advance of others.

"Let her go, Bet. She'll cool off in the frosty air," said Joy.

"I think everybody is getting nervous and I'm sure it's my fault, I've been so irritable to everyone," replied Bet.

But as they stepped outside the door their joyous spirits revived and they started away with a song. Auntie Gibbs watched them as they tramped up over the hill, and when they disappeared, she turned back to her work.

"She's a spoiled child, that Bet! Girls didn't act like that when I was young! They didn't go gallivanting around: they stayed home and did their knitting!" the old lady scolded, but as she lacked an audience her temper soon cooled and she went about her work thinking only of her one great interest in life, Colonel Baxter and his daughter, Bet.

"Bless the child, she's the most provoking thing I've ever seen, but she's so kind to me, too. The way she bathed my head yesterday when it ached, was like a grown woman. The Colonel has a right to be proud of her."

And these conflicting emotions were enough make the old lady's head ache a second time.

While she puttered about the kitchen, planning a special cake to surprise Bet and her chums when they would return, the girls were headed toward Cruger Lake.

"We should have brought skiis!" called Joy. "Why didn't we think of it?"

"Are we on a hike or not?" Bet stopped short in the path and confronted Joy. "This is a hike, and a hike means walking."

"It suits me all right," announced Kit suddenly, "but I can't help wishing I had Powder along. He'd enjoy making this crusty snow fly."

"Well, there's a stone wall over there, Kit. You might pretend," laughed Bet, but seeing a shadow pass over her friend's face, she immediately added: "I'm sorry dear, I promised never to tease you about that."

"Don't Bet, some things just touch the heart too close to joke about! And you'll never understand that until you love a horse the way I do Powder."

"I think I do understand, Kit. I'm sure I'd be just as sentimental over Smiley Jim. Poor old fellow! I've neglected him lately. Today I locked him in the basement, and he begged so to come along!"

"Why didn't you bring him?" asked Kit.

"Auntie Gibbs wanted him to stay there. She's getting a little nervous since the loss of the fan and thinks the dog will protect her."

Shirley was in the lead, her eyes on the ground, watching eagerly for signs of animal footprints.

"Here's a deer track!" called Bet with a laugh and Shirley ran back at top speed.

"Well, maybe it's only a rabbit's," teased Bet.

"And I thought you were my friend, Bet Baxter!" Shirley answered, as she took the lead once more.

It was stinging cold. Every few minutes the girls had to stop and clap their hands together and stamp their feet to restore circulation. They pulled their wool caps well down over their ears and faced the sharp wind. They had crossed the main highway and struck into the woods on the other side, hoping to reach Cruger Lake by lunch time.

They walked and walked till long after the time set for lunch, but saw no sign of the lake.

"Let's build our fire in the woods, girls, and we'll go on to the lake afterwards. I didn't know it was so far." Bet slung her pack to the ground, and the others followed her lead.

"What's for lunch?" asked Joy Evans. "I'm starved!"

Outdoor cooking was a hobby with the girls and they soon had a fire started. And when a bed of coals was ready, a big steak with onions sizzled merrily.

Everybody was hungry from the long walk, and steak and sandwiches disappeared before the onslaught of four ravenous girls.

"And here's the dessert!" Bet held up a handful of dough.

"I wouldn't call that much of a dessert," Joy shrugged with disgust.

"Wait and see! You take a little piece of it and pull it out like this," and Bet stretched the dough into a long, narrow ribbon. "Now please hand me those sticks I was whittling!" After rubbing the end of the twigs in flour, Bet wound the ribbon around the end in a spiral.

"And now what?" asked Kit, as Bet passed each of them a stick with the twisted dough on the point.

"Put them over the coals but be careful not to burn them," she cautioned.

The girls kept the sticks turning so that the dough would cook evenly. Suddenly Bet held hers up; "I do believe mine is done, and this is the way you find out. If it slips off without sticking then it is done." Bet gave the twist a little turn and it came off.

"Now that's a bread twist!" she smiled with satisfaction, as the girls all took theirs off successfully. "Here, fill them up with jelly, and then tell me what you think of them."

"No words can describe this!" replied Joy. "I could just live on bread twists."

"And now let's be on our way!" Bet shouldered her pack. "It can't be far to the lake now."

After an hour's walk they realized that something was wrong, they should have been at the lake long ago.

"I know what we must have done," exclaimed Bet impatiently. "We took the wrong trail away back by the road. Here's Hermit's Hut in front of us."

"Aw, what a nuisance. I did want to go to the lake!" Joy stopped short. "Can't we turn back and go yet?"

"No, it's too late today. It would be dark before we'd get there," said Shirley.

"What's Hermit's Hut? That sounds interesting. Makes me think of the hermit's caves in Arizona," cried Kit, a joyous note in her voice.

"It's just an old hut, that's all. They say a queer old man stayed there at one time and lived on just what he could shoot or trap in the woods, and when he died and his body was found, there was a bag of gold coins hidden in the wall of the hut. I don't know whether the story is true or not, but the closet in the wall is there and might have held treasure," explained Bet.

"Some say he starved to death with all that money right there!" said Joy contemptuously. "Wasn't he crazy?"

"There's no sign of treasure there now," declared Bet. "They have ripped up the floors and the walls and dug all around the hut to see if he didn't bury some money as well."

"That's not likely!" Kit took Bet's arm. "Come on up there, I want to see the hut."

"There isn't much to see," returned her chum, as they climbed the small hill to the old cabin.

The wind was getting stronger and when the girls reached the Hermit's Hut, a tumble-down shack half hidden in the brush, they gladly took shelter there from the wind.

"Now bring on your treasure closet," exclaimed Kit. "Where's your show?"

Bet pointed to the wall. "That's funny," she exclaimed, "that closet used to be right there. Someone has nailed it up." And Bet tapped the wall with her hard little knuckles.

"It sounds hollow! Maybe some other hermit has fastened it up again," suggested the quiet Shirley.

"Hidden treasure!" exclaimed Joy.

"You can have all the treasure you find," laughed Shirley. "I'm off to find deer tracks."

"Usually I'm not a curious person," began Kit.

"You don't say so! Do tell us more about yourself!" Joy was always teasing and the girls were used to her ways. Kit leaned over the door sill, grabbed a handful of snow, aimed it at Joy, then continued her sentence:

"This interests me, and I'm going to investigate. Perhaps some one has hidden away another fortune in the wall."

"I think this hermit must have had a repair-man's mania, the way this board is nailed on! Get your hatchet Kit, and we'll investigate." Bet held out her hand toward the pack.

No one paid any attention to Shirley, who had found a treasure of her own, some deer tracks in the snow outside the hut. "Here's where I'll put my camera," she said to herself. "Oh I do hope I get a good picture!"

"She's raving again, girls, don't cross her!" called Joy from the doorway.

"I'm not listening!" said Shirley, with a toss of her head. She placed the camera, cleverly concealed it with evergreen boughs, and put into position the device that set off the flash powder and released the shutter. A wire extended out into the snow at some distance so that the animal would be almost sure to come in contact with it.

"There! That's done!" announced Shirley. "Now, Mr. Deer, you can come just as soon as you want to. I'm ready!"

Bet was using all her strength to pry off the board from the wall.

"Here, give it to me, Bet! I'm a wild and woolly westerner and big nails are nothing in my life."

With a screeching, protesting sound the huge nails were pulled out and the board came loose. The girls peered into the opening but did not see anything at first.

"Nothing there!" said Kit with disgust, as she turned away.

"There's something white in here!" exclaimed Bet as she slipped her hand into the closet. She grasped the object in a tight grip and brought it forth.

"Oh look! We've found hidden treasure!" shouted Joy, laughing. "Let's see it. – No, it's just a dusty cloth tied around a stick."

But Bet was trembling with excitement. She exclaimed: "Girls, it's the fan! The queen's fan!" She unwrapped the cloth and showed the precious object, then burst into tears.

But the girls cried out excitedly: "Found! What wonderful luck!"

"How did it get here?"

"This must be a thieve's [Transcriber's note: thief's?] hiding place! Oh, maybe the thief is around here!"

"What shall we do!"

"Do? I'll say grab it and get out of this place as soon as we can. – And keep running until we reach the bus line. Don't wait a minute, girls! I'll just lay suspicion by nailing this board back again!" And Kit gave some good swinging strokes with the hatchet.

The girls ran in terror, for they expected the thief to be in pursuit. They glanced back anxiously with little squeals. But Bet hugged the fan to her breast and did not speak.

The four girls waited for the bus at the deserted corner of the woods. It was already dusk. Bet looked anxiously about, fearing to hear a long whistle, a signal of the thieves. So many things had happened recently the girls did not feel safe. They might be held up, even yet. It seemed hours before they saw the bus.

Shirley hailed it and the girls climbed on trying compose themselves and not look self-conscious.

Suddenly Shirley jumped to her feet. "My camera! I shouldn't have left it there! I never want to see that place again!"

"Ssh! Don't talk so loud, Shirley!" Bet whispered. "And don't worry. We'll ask Bob and Phil to come up with us and get it. We'll tell them to bring a shot gun! And who knows, maybe in the meantime you'll get your picture of a deer."

The bus had never seemed to go so slowly. It stopped at every street corner, or so it appeared to Bet Baxter. At the corner where they alighted, Smiley Jim came bounding over the hard snow, barking his welcome. "Smiley Jim, I'm glad you're here, I've never been so happy to see you, in all my life!" Bet exclaimed.

As if the dog knew that Bet needed him, he walked by her side, and growled as he always did when strangers came to the Manor.

"I believe he knows!" said Bet softly as she patted the dog's head.

But when she stumbled into the kitchen a few minutes later, she fell into Auntie Gibbs' arms and sobbed hysterically.

"Now, what's the matter child? Have you had more bad luck? Your father can't get home too soon to suit me!"

At last Bet got her breath:

"Auntie Gibbs! Uncle Nat! We've found the fan!"