The Girl Scouts at Bellaire Part 22

"Oh, that's daddy!" cried Mary. "Let me see it. Darling daddy," she exclaimed, grasping the new found treasure and holding it in close scrutiny. "Wasn't he handsome!"

All the girls pored over the picture of the tall, good-looking man, dressed in the light clothing usually worn in warm countries, the big helmet hat pushed back from his face, and his hand resting on a stout bamboo stick.

"See, he has that sort of cane," corrected Cleo. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if it were really a piece of his own walking cane?"

"It really might be," Mary reflected. "Dear me, I do wonder why Reda hid those things? And she must have taken them from Grandie or from my things. They certainly could not have been hers."

On the reverse side of the picture was the name of some photographer in Panama, and having made careful examination without success for possible notes or written names, as might give further information, Mary folded her two pictures carefully, and laid them aside with the bamboo stick.

All this time the girls kept wondering why Mary could not tell them what was the nature of the loss that had so affected the professor.

Hiding himself and hiding Mary seemed a strange thing to do, except for some reason that might entail danger in discovery, and what possible danger could there be in two perfectly honest persons using their own names?

"I was to look for Reda's thimble," said Mary, jamming in the trunk some heavy coats and woolens that seemed necessary to take off the clothes hooks. "I guess I had best put all the little things in this flat basket," she decided, opening up a small hand-woven affair, such as girls use for embroidery cases.

Attacking the Philippine work box once more, Mary took all the movable compartments that she could locate by shaking and rattling, and at last found one in the very bottom of the box; released by such a snap spring, it surely must have originally been a trick box.

"Oh, my!" she exclaimed. "Just look here!" and, holding the small tray up to the astonished gaze of the girls, they beheld a glittering array of jewels.

"Oh, how beautiful," called out a voice in which all three were blended.

"These must have been Loved One's!" said Mary, in an awed voice, and her companions, too astonished to speak, simply stared at the glittering treasures.

There were several pins with beautiful sparkling stones, a number of rings, lockets; in fact the collection seemed to include a supply of fine jewelry, such as a woman of means and social prominence might covet.

"However will you carry them?" asked Madaline, first to recover from the surprise.

"I don't know," Mary replied, still dazed and overcome. To her the discovery meant more than a collection of jewelry; it meant that her mother must have been a wealthy and prominent woman. This fact, however, Mary always understood, but in her hands now were seemingly new proofs.

"Let us attend to the orchids to-day, Mary," suggested Grace, "while you finish your packing. Come on, Madie, get the small cans."

"All right," Cleo agreed. "I'll help Mary find something to carry her treasures in, and also help her finish packing. We will then likely all be finished about the same time. What a lot of things we have to look over when we get home! Mary, I am sure some of those lockets will have pictures in them," and all the while she was talking Cleo was running here and there, or hither and thither, as Jennie would have said, in a hurry to finish the tasks.

"I know where I can get a good strong bag," Mary said, "but I haven't been upstairs since we went away. This big bungalow, having the sleeping rooms on the first floor, always seemed complete without upstairs."

"I'm not afraid to go up," Cleo volunteered. "I'll take Shep. Where is he?"

At the sound of his name Shep sprang forward, carrying in his teeth the remnants of a yellow handkerchief he had torn almost to shreds.

"Why, Shep, what are you doing? You never tear things." Cleo charged, attempting to rescue the remains of the yellow silk handkerchief.

But Shep would not release his hold on the rags--instead he growled.

Could Cleo have known why, she would have complimented him on being go clever a detective, for the handkerchief was one of Reda's and mate to the one Shep brought in with him the night he received the bullet in his leg. But the girls knew nothing of this.

"Shall we go up for the bag?" Cleo asked Mary, desisting in her efforts to unmask Shep.

"I suppose we better," Mary replied, as they made their way to the end of the hall from which point the hidden stairs were built. "It is so long since I have been up here I shall hardly know what it looks like."

Mary went first and Cleo followed close to her heels. At the top Mary stood still and drew back a little. Then she turned and motioned to Cleo.

"What's the matter?" whispered Cleo, seeing Mary make haste to collect the most important things.

"There are a lot of strange boxes and things up there," Mary said in a hushed voice. "Hark! What was that!"

Both girls stood breathless, afraid to move. Over in a far corner of the long, dark room, something chattered and squeaked, then squealed!

"What ever can it be?" asked Cleo. "It is surely something alive, but I don't know what could make that sort of noise."

"I do," said Mary. "That's a monkey. How do you suppose it got in here?"

"You go over and look, if you are not afraid," suggested Cleo, "and I will stay here to guard Shep. Hear him! He would go wild for a monkey."

A clear line over the boxes, and through the long room showed nothing more sinister than that some small animal could be hidden there, so Mary stepped over the litter, and soon discovered the origin of the queer noise.

"Oh, the dearest little thing!" exclaimed Mary, putting out her arms to the frightened monkey, that immediately crawled into her safekeeping.

"How did it get in here?"

"Come on," implored Cleo, fearful someone might be in bidding. "Let us get away. You are not afraid of him?"

"No, indeed. Just see how glad he is that we found him. I wonder how long he has been up here!"

But even a starving monkey would not be sufficient cause for longer delay, so, urging Mary down, Cleo held Shep fast while Grace hurriedly locked the door that led to the second floor of the studio.

Now surely they must make haste to get away.

CHAPTER XX

THE MASCOT'S RESCUE

"Oh, the poor little thing! See how he cuddles up! Wasn't he frightened to death!" and Mary hugged the chattering little animal under her arm, like a short haired terrier, or even an abused and exhausted little kitten. To the other girls it seemed quite impossible to realize this was really a monkey, and the domestic puppy or kitten naturally furnished a comparison.

"Oh, do let's hurry!" begged Madaline. "How do we know someone will not burst in upon us?"

"We don't," replied Cleo, without the hope of rea.s.surance. "But we have to depend on Shep. I think he is behaving beautifully with a real monkey on the premises; no jealousy in good old Shep." She was making all possible haste with picking up the most important articles they had gathered to bring back with them to Cragsnook. "I have your treasures, Mary," she said, making a final hard knot in the shawl that held the jewelry. "The other girls are all ready. Come on, don't let us wait a moment longer," she cautioned.

"Can you carry the cane, and these pictures?" Mary asked. "I guess I can manage them if you cannot."

"Oh, no, you must take care of Chatterbox. He is lively enough to keep you busy. Here, Grace, you shoot the bolts on the doors as we pa.s.s out. Come on, Shep. Keep near the ladies, but let them pa.s.s out first," finished Cleo, determined to make the exit something of an imitation fire drill, if not in point of the numbers in line, at least in point of the caution applied.

The fright experienced when something "alive" had actually been discovered upstairs supplied enough excitement to make the whole situation extremely alarming. What could have brought a monkey there but humans, and what purpose had anyone in such an exploit? Between the finding of the monkey and the discovery of the jewels, the girls felt their day had thus far been one of unusual thrills, but a sense of actual danger seemed threatening to explode at their very heels now, and, making tracks over the mountain, away from the uncanny studio, they put into execution the Girl Scouts' danger drill, if not the school girls' fire drill. Once away from the house, Mary "collapsed into a dead silence," as Madaline expressed it in a whisper to Grace.

Even the monkey's chattering was not answered.

Indeed, Mary was silent, almost to the point of a threatening "mood,"

since seeing the collection of empty boxes, and her friends were determined she would not relapse into anything so unpleasant. Plainly the boxes were ready to be packed; then the finding of the monkey convinced Mary that strangers had come into the studio, and were making preparations to loot it. Who they were, and just what they "were after, she could only surmise. But it was a most unpleasant surprise, amounting to a shock, and that to come just when things seemed to be shaping so favorably for everyone.

"Certainly I should not think of taking you up there again," said Mary finally, "but what can I do about the orchids?"