The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls

by Julia K. Duncan

  “Stay right here,” directed Jack, after they had alighted from the train, leading the way to a pile of crates on the platform, “until I check our baggage. I thought we’d keep only the night bag, and pick up the rest after we get the wagon.”

  Before the children had tired of watching the passers-by, he was back again, and they walked slowly toward the centre of the city, not pausing until they reached the tiny park facing the wharf.

  “You and the children had better sit here while I go to find out the location of the street where Simon’s daughter lives.”

  “Is that the Grand Hotel, where André brought Marie after the wedding?” asked Priscilla, looking up in admiration at the big building across the street.

  “Yes,” replied Jack.

  “Just think!” cried the child ecstatically, giving a little skip, “I’m really looking at the place I’ve heard of so many times.”

  “Well, your education has begun,” said Jack. “See that you make the most of all your opportunities.”

  “What a very funny place,” observed Priscilla, looking around her.

  “It is a park—” began Desiré.

  “But look at those,” interrupted the younger girl, pointing to several graves.

  “It must have been used as a cemetery first,” replied her sister, walking over to read the inscription on a nearby stone, and closely followed by Priscilla. That moment or two gave René the chance for which he had longed, and he was off down the road and onto the wharf. Desiré turned to look for him just in time to see a little blue-clad figure dart across the gang plank of the Boston steamer.

  “René!” she called in desperation, racing toward the dock.

  The tug which helped the steamer pull away from her slip was already out in the harbor; bells were ringing, the whistle was blowing, dock hands were running about. Across the gang plank ran Desiré and Priscilla just before it was withdrawn, and the ropes were cast off. As they looked helplessly among the crowds of people and piles of luggage for the truant, the tug was steadily pulling on the long tow line, and heading the steamer out to sea.

  “My—little—brother,” gasped Desiré to an officer.

  “What about him?” demanded the busy man curtly.

  His brisk manner was just enough, in her distressed state of mind, to reduce the girl immediately to tears.

  “He got away from us and is on this boat. That’s what’s about him,” said Priscilla, coming at once to her sister’s aid. “Don’t mind, Dissy; we’ll find him.”

  An interested spectator of the scene, a tall, energetic type of woman, now joined the group.

  “Let me help you look for him, my dear,” she said briskly, putting a hand on Desiré’s shoulder. “No need to worry; he’s certainly safe.”

  “But,” choked the girl, now fully conscious that the boat was moving, “we can’t go on. My big brother is waiting for us in Yarmouth! What—what will he think? What will he do?” She wrung her hands distractedly.

  “You could go back on the tug, if the boy’s found before she leaves us,” suggested the officer, coming to the rescue as soon as he fully understood the situation.

  “There he is!” shrieked Priscilla, darting to the side of the boat where René was climbing up on a suitcase to look over the railing at the water. Grasping him firmly by the tail of his jacket, she dragged him backward across the salon, and brought him to a violent sitting posture at Desiré’s feet.

  Meanwhile the officer had ordered the tug to be signalled, and she now came alongside. No time for anything but hurried thanks to their benefactors as the girls and René were helped over the side and onto the tug. Noisily, fussily, she steamed away from the big boat, over whose rails hung the interested passengers, and headed to Yarmouth.

  “What ever made you do such a naughty thing, René?” asked Desiré, who had recovered her outward composure.

  “Wanted to see big boat,” replied the child, not at all impressed by the gravity of his offense. Useless to say more now.

  “The young feller needs a good whaling,” growled the pilot of the tug, as he brought his boat alongside the wharf.

  “There’s Jack!” cried Desiré, in great relief, catching sight of him striding rapidly along the street above the docks. “Jump out, quickly, Prissy! Run up and tell him we’re all right.”

  The child sprang to the dock and ran up the incline at top speed, while Desiré lingered to thank the pilot.

  “Glad to do it, ma’moiselle. Better keep hold of him hereafter, though.”

  “I shall,” she promised, with a reproachful look at René.

  The reunited family met in the little park, and sat down on one of the benches to readjust themselves.

  “I’m so sorry, dear,” said Desiré, putting her hand in Jack’s. “You must have been frantic.”

  “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I came back and found that you had all disappeared. An old dock hand who saw me looking around said he’d seen a boy, followed by two girls, go aboard the ‘Yarmouth.’ So, knowing René, I came to a close solution of the mystery. I was just going up to the steamship office to see what could be done when Prissy grabbed me from behind.

  “René,” he went on, placing the child directly in front of him so he could look into his eyes, “you have been a very bad boy; and only the fact that we are out here in a public place prevents me from putting you right across my knee, and giving you something to make you remember your naughtiness. There is to be no more running away. Do you understand me?”

  The little boy, wiggling slightly as if he already felt the punishment, nodded gravely, impressed by his brother’s stern face and voice.

  “What did you find out, Jack?” asked Desiré, when he had released René.

  “They told me,” he began, turning toward her, “that Simon lives on a street not so very far from here. I thought if you’re ready, we might walk down there; and perhaps he’d be able to tell us where we could spend the night.”

  “Aren’t we going to the hotel?” inquired Priscilla, her face clouding.

  “No; we haven’t enough money to stay there,” answered Jack, starting ahead with René.

  The little girl pouted, and shed a few quiet tears to which Desiré wisely paid no attention. Slowly they strolled along the main street, pausing to look in the window of a stationer’s where the books and English magazines attracted Desiré’s eye; stopping to gaze admiringly at the jewelry, china, pictures, and souvenirs attractively displayed in another shop.

  “Just see the lovely purple stones!” cried Priscilla, who had recovered her good humor.

  “Those are amethysts,” explained Jack. “They come from Cape Blomidon,” adding to Desiré, “I heard that another vein split open this year.”

  “Isn’t it strange that the intense cold nearly every winter brings more of the beautiful jewels to light?” commented the girl.

  “A kind of rough treatment which results in profit and beauty,” mused Jack.

  “Yes; and, Jack, maybe it will be like that with us. Things are hard now, but perhaps soon we’ll find—”

  “Some am’thysts?” asked René excitedly.

  “Perhaps,” replied Jack, giving Desiré one of his rare sweet smiles.

  The stores had been left behind now, and on every hand were green tree-shaded lawns enclosed by carefully trimmed hedges of English hawthorne in full bloom. Desiré exclaimed with rapture over their beauty, and the size and style of the houses beyond them. On a little side street they paused before a small cottage, half hidden in vines.

  “This must be the place,” decided Jack, opening the white gate which squeaked loudly as if protesting against the entrance of strangers. The sound brought a woman to the door.

  “I’m looking for Simon Denard,” began Jack.

  “You’ve come to the right place to find him,” she replied, smiling, as she came toward them and put out one hand to pat René’s head. “Simon Denard is my father. I’m Mrs. Chaisson. Come right in.”

 
; In the small living room to which she led them sat old Simon, propped up with pillows in a big chair.

  “So here ye are,” was his greeting, as the children dashed across the floor to his side.

  “Be careful,” warned Desiré quickly. “You might hurt Simon.”

  “Let ’em be! Let ’em be!” protested the old man, beaming upon his visitors. “What’s an extra stab of pain, or two?”

  “Father has told me about you people so often that I feel as if I knew you,” Mrs. Chaisson was saying to Jack, after he introduced Desiré and the children; “so I want you to stay here as long as you’re in town; that is, if you haven’t made other plans.”

  The expression on her kindly face indicated clearly that she hoped they hadn’t.

  “But there are so many of us,” objected the boy.

  “It’s perfectly all right, if you don’t mind kind of camping out a bit.”

  “That’s what we expect to do all summer,” said Desiré; “and we’ll surely be glad of any arrangements you make for us, as long as we don’t put you about too much. You are very kind indeed.”

  “Then it’s all settled,” said their hostess briskly; “I’ll get supper right away; for you must be hungry.”

  The cottage boasted of a living room, dining room, kitchen, and two small bedrooms; so stowing away four extra people was something of an achievement. Immediately after they had finished the simple but delicious meal that Mrs. Chaisson prepared, Desiré shyly offered to help her hostess in preparation for the night.

  “Thank you, my dear; if you will clear up the supper table and do the dishes while I hunt up some bedding, it will be very nice.”

  “Please don’t trouble yourself about me,” said Jack, detaining Mrs. Chaisson on one of her many trips through the room; “I can sleep on the porch, or anywhere.”

  “I’ll fix some place for you,” she replied, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Just go on with your business arrangements.” He and Simon had been discussing the route, customers, stock, and other details.

  Like so many childless women, Mrs. Chaisson had a passion for children; and the thoughts of this little family starting out so bravely in search of a living moved her strongly.

  “How I wish I could adopt them all,” she thought as she hurried on. “If only we had a little more money; but then, there’s Father, too, now; it couldn’t be done, even with the help of that fine big boy. I don’t wonder that his sister almost worships him.”

  Nine o’clock saw them all settled for a good sleep. Old Simon in his own room, Mrs. Chaisson sharing hers with Priscilla, Desiré on the couch in the living room, and Jack and René in hammocks on the screened porch. It had been decided before they slept that as soon as breakfast was over, they would start out upon the great adventure.

  “There is no use in hanging around here,” Jack had said to Desiré in their goodnight talk on the front steps.

  “Wouldn’t it seem rather odd, or ungrateful, to hurry away so soon?” suggested the girl. “Mrs. Chaisson has been so very good to us.”

  “I know that,” replied Jack quickly; “and for that very reason, we can’t take advantage of her. Then too, the longer we stay, the harder it will be for both sides when we do go.”

  The boy had immediately sensed the good woman’s distress over their undertaking, and felt that the kindest act would be their immediate departure.

  “Of course I realize,” he went on, “that it’s nice for you to have a little rest, and a woman’s companionship; but—”

  “Don’t worry over me, Jack dear,” replied his sister, slipping her hand into his. “Whatever you decide is all right. So we’ll all be ready early in the morning.”

  “You’re a good little soul,” answered Jack, with an affectionate goodnight kiss. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Completely happy at his words of commendation, Desiré entered the house; and soon everyone was fast asleep. Shortly after midnight, she was suddenly awakened by the sound of a screen door closing, and steps crossing the porch.

  CHAPTER V

  A MIDNIGHT WALK

  The thought that perhaps Jack was ill immediately flashed across Desiré’s mind. Throwing on a kimono, she hurried to the door. Down the walk which led to the street, through the gate which had been left part way open, and along the road walked—Priscilla!

  No mistaking, even in the shadows, that plump childish form. Where was she going? Without stopping to do more than catch up the child’s coat, and her own which hung beside the door, Desiré followed her. Not wanting to call lest she should waken the neighborhood, she had to run to catch up to her sister; for Priscilla had quickened her pace as she approached the end of the road and turned onto the main street. Coming abreast with her at last, Desiré took the child’s arm; and, stooping to look at her face, was startled to see that her eyes, though open, were unseeing. Shaking with fright, Desiré asked softly—

  “Where are you going, Prissy?”

  “To the Grand Hotel,” was the prompt and surprising reply.

  “But, darling,” protested the older girl, “it’s night, and everybody is in bed and asleep.”

  “I’m going to sleep there. I’ve always wanted to.”

  Then Desiré realized in a flash that Priscilla must be walking in her sleep. She remembered now that Mother had once spoken of her doing it when she was a very little girl and had become greatly excited over something. The splendors of the hotel must have been on her mind as she went to sleep.

  How to get the child back without arousing her was a problem; she had heard that sleepwalkers must not be wakened suddenly.

  “Well, dear,” she said quietly, “it’s getting cool. Let’s put on our coats before we go any farther.”

  Priscilla stopped obediently, and, after both girls had put on their coats, Desiré took the little girl’s arm and turned her gently around, beginning a low monologue as she did so.

  “You’re going in the wrong direction; we must go this way. Soon we’ll be there. Just down this street. We must be very quiet so no one will hear us. Step softly. Quiet!”

  Leading, coaxing, hushing, Desiré finally got her sister into the house without waking any one, and settled her upon the living-room couch; for she dared not trust her out of her sight again that night.

  “Now you’re all right,” she whispered, removing the child’s coat. “Isn’t that a lovely bed?”

  “Yes,” breathed Priscilla, curling up under the blanket.

  Noiselessly Desiré drew a big rocking chair close to her sister’s side, propped her feet up on the edge of the couch, and with the two coats spread over her, prepared to spend the rest of the night. No one must know of this escapade. Mrs. Chaisson would be distressed at not having awakened; Jack would be disturbed at having slept so soundly, and perhaps disapprove of her not calling him; and old Simon would be troubled by the idea of what might have happened. Also, Priscilla would probably be made nervous. Too excited to sleep, she dozed, dreamed, started, and wakened again until the first far-away call of a robin pierced the faint grey dawn. Immediately one in a tree beside the cottage answered; then a cock crowed; a song sparrow began its short sweet strains; and the day of the great adventure had really begun.

  “Prissy,” she whispered, a little later, bending over the child.

  The blue eyes opened lazily.

  “Let’s get dressed, Prissy, and surprise Mrs. Chaisson by having the table set and things started before she wakens.”

  “All right,” agreed the little girl, sitting up; “but—but—how did I get here?”

  “You were rather restless; so I brought you out here with me—” began Desiré.

  “And you slept in the chair! Oh, you must be so tired, Dissy. Why did you do it?”

  “I’m all right, dear. Never mind about it. Don’t say anything of it to any one!”

  “Why?” asked Priscilla, wondering at her sister’s earnestness.

  “Because Jack might be afraid I was too tired to
start out today, and—”

  “Oh, are we really going this morning?” demanded Priscilla, her mind immediately occupied with the exciting prospect.

  “Yes; and it’s going to be a glorious day.”

  The sound of their voices roused the others; and while breakfast was being prepared, and the house set in order—for Desiré would not leave their hostess any extra work—Jack got the team and wagon ready for departure. At nine o’clock, after reluctant and affectionate farewells had been exchanged, Jack gathered up the reins. Beside him sat Desiré, and directly back of them on little stools were Priscilla and René.

  “Now, remember,” repeated Mrs. Chaisson, handing a lunch basket to Desiré, “that this is your home whenever you are in Yarmouth, or any other time you need one. And whenever you can, let me hear how you’re getting on. We’ll be thinking of you all the time.”

  “Thank you,” said Desiré, kissing Mrs. Chaisson affectionately, and adding for the tenth time—“You’ve been so very good to us.”

  “We shall never forget it,” said Jack, tightening the reins; and Dolly and Dapple, moving away from the gate, put an end to the farewells.

  No one saw, hidden away among the maple saplings, scrub pine, and underbrush which covered the field beside the house, the bulky figure of a man. Neither did they hear softly muttered words of anger and revenge.

  After they had left Yarmouth behind and were jogging along the road back over the same route they had covered on the train the day before, Desiré turned sidewise in the seat to inspect once more the interior of their “store.” At the back was their trunk, and next to it their box; and on either side, reaching to the very top of the wagon, shelves tightly packed with jars, cans, rolls of material. The small tent which they had bought on their way out of town was laid along the floor at one side.

  “I must get acquainted with all the stock,” she observed; “so I’ll be able quickly to find what people want.”

  “The first time we stop, you can look things over,” replied Jack. “You’d lose your balance and be rolling out if you tried to do it while we’re moving.”

  The younger ones laughed hilariously. They were in high spirits now, and even Jack felt a thrill of excitement under his sober, staid manner.