by Carol Norton
CHAPTER XIX. SEARCHING FOR CLUES
The next afternoon the girls found Bob waiting near the seminary with thedelivery sleigh. Geraldine, for half a moment, was amazed to hear thesqueels of delight uttered by her companions as they swarmed up into thestraw-covered box part of the cutter.
"This is great!" Merry exclaimed. "How did you happen to do it, Bobbiedear?"
The boy nodded toward his sister, who replied for him: "Bob said he wouldbe returning from Dorchester about this hour, and I asked him to pick usup, like an angel child, so that we could have a longer meeting. It getsdark so early and it takes a full half hour to walk the mile to Merry's."
"Sort of a ruddy-looking angel child," Rose, at the boy's side, teasedhim. The round, pleasant face of the boy was always ruddy, but today itwas unusually so, partly because of the long drive he had had in thefrosty air and partly because of his pleasure at having Rose with him.
Down the wide, snow-covered road they sped, and Geraldine could not butcompare this ride with those that were being taken by the pupils of theDorchester Seminary, where most fashionable turnouts each day awaited theclosing hours. But she had to honestly confess that she was having muchmore fun than she ever had before. Merry smiled across at her and Gerrysmiled back, happily recalling the whispered request of the eveningbefore: "Let us be sister-friends, shall we?"
"All out for Merry-dale!" Bob was soon calling as he drew rein in frontof the Lee house. Then to the girl at his side he said in a low voice,"I'll be through at the store at five. May I drive you home?"
"Yes, indeed, and stay to supper," Rose said brightly, adding as anafterthought: "Gerry and Alfred can go with us, can't they? Then theColonel won't have to come after them."
"Sure thing," the good-natured boy replied. "So long!"
"There now," Merry announced when they were sitting about the fire fiveminutes later, "we have a good two hours, if nobody interrupts us, and weought to be able to delve deeply into our mystery. Peg, will you or Dorisreview the facts in the case?"
"Shouldn't we call them clues?" Bertha inquired.
"O, I don't know. I haven't been a sleuth long enough to be sure aboutanything," the president smilingly admitted. Then Doris reminded themthat it was a ranchman in Arizona named Caleb K. Cornwall who wassearching for a young and pretty sister named Myra, who had married ane'er-do-well and supposedly had settled in some small community nearDorchester, in New York State.
"Well, Sleuth Bertha, you look wise. What would _you_ suggest that we dofirst?" Merry had turned toward the tall maiden, whose expression washabitually serious and thoughtful.
"I was just wondering if there is any woman in town named Myra. Ourmothers might know, for I suppose this lost person is about their age."
"How come?" Peg asked. "There is no mention of age in the letter. Merelythat she was a young and pretty girl when she was sent East to school."
"That might have been ten years ago or twenty, thirty, or any number,"Rose reminded them.
"True enough," Merry conceded. "Wait a moment. Mother is in hersewing-room, I think. I'll ask her if she ever heard of a woman inSunnyside named Myra."
"Won't she wonder at your asking?" Peg was fearful lest their secretwould be divulged.
"No, indeed," Merry shook her head. "Mums isn't even remotely curiousabout what our club is doing. She knows we are holding a meeting, butthat's all."
In less than ten minutes she was back again with two names written on amagazine cover. "I don't think these will help us much," she informed thegirls, whose alert attitudes proved their eager interest. "One is MyraComely. She lives below the tracks and takes in washing. Mother thinksshe may be about forty. The other is Myra Ingersol. She lives out on theold Dorchester road. Mother doesn't just know where, but it's a farm thatmakes a specialty of chickens and eggs. The woman makes jelly and sellsit, too. That's really all Mother knows about her. The name is on eachjar, Mums says. 'Myra Ingersol's Jams,' like that. We get them from thegrocery. You ought to know about them, Bertha."
"I do," that maiden replied, "and, what's more, I know the woman. I'vebeen in the store when she brought in her wares. I've been trying topicture her, Merry, while you were talking, as having ever been young andpretty, but I just can't. She is a big-boned, awkward person withred-grey hair drawn back as though it had a weight on it, and sharp blueeyes." The girl shook her head. "I'm convinced she is _not_ the Myra Mr.Cornwall wants to find."
"How old is the jam person?" Gerry contributed her first inquiry.
"Oh, close to sixty, perhaps, although she may be younger. She's had ahard life, I judge."
"We might call them up on the telephone and ask them if they ever livedin Arizona," Betty Byrd naively suggested. How the others laughed."Little one," Bertha remonstrated, "don't you know that if they ran awayfrom Arizona and are in hiding, so to speak, they would, of course,refuse to tell that it had once been their home. I mean in answer to suchan abrupt question as would have to be asked over the 'phone. Mysuggestion is that we make some legitimate excuse for calling at thehomes of the two Myras and finding, if we can, some clues withoutarousing their suspicion."
"Hats off to Sleuth Bertha!" Peg sang out. "When and how shall we makethe first call?"
Doris leaped up in her eagerness. "If one of the Myras is a washwoman,let's drive over there tomorrow with the Drexel weekly laundry. Mothersaid yesterday that the Palace New Method injures the clothes and shewants to find someone to do it by hand."
"Say, Boy, but we're in luck!" the slangy member exulted.
"And as for the other Myra," Rose said, "we might chip together and buy achicken or two, and that would give us an excuse to visit _her_ farm."
"Bravo! Keen idea! Hurray for our Rosebud!" were the exclamations whichproved that the suggestion met with general approval.
"But what would we do with two chickens?" round-eyed, the youngest memberinquired.
"Eat 'em, little one," Peg began.
"Not till they're cooked, I hope," Gerry laughingly put in.
"Say, fellow-sleuths, I have a peachy idea," Peg announced. "Let's get upa Valentine dinner and invite the boys. Saturday's the fourteenth, and wecan make quite a spread of it and kill two birds with one stone, so tospeak."
"Two hens, do you mean?" Rose inquired. A sofa pillow was hurled at her."You need submerging," Doris told her.
"How about that Valentine party for the orphans?" Merry asked slyly. "Itseems to me one was suggested last night just as the boys came home."
"Sure thing, we'll have one, but that will be different. Now, thisValentine party----"
Peg could say no more, for the door had opened and two laughing boysstood there. Merry rose and confronted her brother. "Jack Lee, how longhave you been out there in the hall listening to our club doings?"
"Not a fraction of a second, have we, Alf?" he turned to his companionfor corroboration. "All I heard is just what you were saying last night,that you are going to give a party for the orphans on Valentine's day."
The girls looked still unconvinced, and so Alfred leaped into the breachwith, "Here's proof sufficient, I should think." He held out his coatsleeve, on which there were frosty snow stars as yet unmelted. "If we'dbeen long in the house, they would be dewdrops. Is it not so?"
"Verily." Peg seemed relieved, as did the others, but when the boys hadgone into Jack's study, which adjoined the library, the girls werepuzzled to hear laughter that the boys were evidently trying to muffle.Merry put a warning finger on her lips, which meant that they wouldpostpone further discussion until another day.
