The Girl Scouts at Bellaire Part 18

More puzzled than ever, Cleo made her adieux, and when she and Mary joined Grace and Madaline in the auto she personally felt like a wonderful book with uncut pages--overburdened with hidden information and delicious secrets.

CHAPTER XVII

A SECRET SESSION

"Girls!" Mary addressed all three, just before dinner on the evening of the day she had called at Crow's Nest, "we must have a real conference--the kind you have told me about in your scout talks. How shall we begin, and where can we go to make sure no one will overhear us?"

"In our play-room over the garage," suggested Cleo, "that's really our club room, you know."

"Yes, that is the safest place," Grace agreed, while Madaline wagged "yes" with her bobbed head. "Besides, we can leave Shep outside, and he will warn us if anyone should come around," finished Grace.

But in spite of their serious business, they were really human little girls after all, for even the prospect of Mary's secrets did not forestall a vigorous romp to the garage. Madaline fell in first on Michael's sponges, tools and accessories, for the Dunbar car, which had been laid up for repairs during the absence of the owner, Mr. Guy Dunbar, was now being overhauled--a sign the owner was expected soon to return.

"Oh, Michael!" Madaline apologized, gathering up her feet in their pretty pomps, and shaking herself free from the accessories, "I couldn't help tumbling in, and I hope I didn't scatter your nuts and bolts and things!"

"All right, little girls," Michael greeted them. "The room up-stairs is all aired, and Jennie was down to-day with some fixin's. Why don't you ask her and me to join your club?" he joked inquiringly.

"Yes, of course we should," a.s.sented Cleo, who was regarded as Captain.

"That will be lovely; you could be our--our----"

"Grand Marshal!" suggested Michael.

"Yes," and Grace clapped her hands joyfully.

"And Jennie could be our--our----" But Madaline, who attempted to a.s.sign Jennie, was failing miserably in the attempt.

"Don't give Jennie too high an office," interposed Michael with a twinkle in his eye. "I wouldn't exactly care to have her for my boss."

"Come along to the meeting, girls!" called Cleo, "and we will vote on the new members. Michael, if you are black-balled you may blame Madaline, you know," and as a protest against such a contingency, Michael pegged his biggest sponge at Madaline, who ducked just in time to give the wet flap to Grace. The jolly interlude somewhat delayed the business session originally set out for, but it evidently acted as a stimulant to the proceedings when they finally got under way, for a livelier session could scarcely be imagined.

Cleo explained some of the routine of regular meetings to the new member, inscribed on the scout book simply as "Maid Mary," then all further formalities were wavered and business plunged into.

"I am so anxious to tell you at least some of our story, girls," began Mary, "and I know, as Grandie gets stronger, he will be able to remember some of the important missing details. You know, of course, he is not my grandfather, but a gentleman who rescued me," she said.

"Rescued you from what?" asked Madaline, impulsively.

"That's all in the story," replied Mary, "and honestly, girls, I don't know how to begin, but I think I ought to go backwards."

"Yes, do," urged Cleo. "It will be clearer to us if we can connect with the parts we have actually experienced."

"You wonder, of course," Mary began again, "what actually happened that first night I came here. Really someone did call me," Mary insisted with wide eyes. "I can hear the voice yet. I know it was someone who knew me, therefore it must have been Reda."

"We all thought someone was around," Cleo ventured, "and did you know Shep was shot in the leg that night?"

"No, really," exclaimed Mary in astonishment. "I am sure Reda did not do that. She is dreadfully afraid of a revolver. Once when Grandie had one, as he thought someone was prowling about, he left it under his pillow, and Reda wouldn't touch it, and you would never imagine what a silly thing she did. She scooped it up on a dust-pan and dumped it in the bureau drawer. Can you imagine anyone doing that with a loaded revolver?"

"Oh, how absurd!" exclaimed Grace.

"It was lucky it was not self-c.o.c.ked," declared Cleo.

"Well, I know Reda wouldn't touch a revolver, so no one I knew could have injured lovely Shep," said Mary, somewhat dismayed.

"But you remember, Mary, the man you called Janos was out from New York that day," suggested Madaline.

"Yes, I know," said Mary, "but I hope it was in no way my fault poor Shep was injured."

"Of course it was not," Cleo said quickly, seeing a possible unpleasant trend in their review. "It must have been someone who was just prowling around. You know, girls, all Jennie's lettuce was pulled up by the roots the night before Shep was shot."

At the mention of lettuce Mary flushed. Then recovering her composure, she remarked:

"Reda would pull up garden things. She couldn't seem to understand that growing things were private property. You see, in her country every sort of stuff grows so luxuriously Reda never could understand why it is different here. She was always searching for greens to cook for Grandie, and I was often afraid she would give him something poisonous," Mary said. "Poor Reda," she sighed. "I wonder where she is?"

"But, Mary," urged Cleo, "do you know actually that you climbed out the window in your nightie, and sat on a limb of the tree exactly like Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens? I shall never forget how cute you looked, even in lantern lights, as you hugged the b.u.t.ton ball tree!" and at the joyous memory all the girls fairly rolled in glee. Grace slid off the improvised couch; Madaline doubled up on the steamer rug which was serving as an Oriental on the floor, and Cleo put her perky little head through such a course of exercises as would have done credit to a beauty specialist in neck treatment. It was so very funny a thing to remember.

Mary perched in a tree a la Peter Pan, in her white night robe, Cleo climbing out after her in her bluebird pajamas, then the spectators around the base of the tree in various improvised garbs, not really pa.s.sed by the censor. Yes, it was howlingly--shriekingly funny, just now!

"But do let us get along with the mysteries," begged Grace, unwinding herself. "Mary, you were going backwards and you haven't got past the first tree."

"Well, I guess I will have to jump to the most interesting part," said Mary. "You see, girls, my mother's folks didn't want her to marry my daddy, because he wasn't rich. He was a scientist, and I am sure a wonderful man, but mother's folks were very wealthy, and when she went off exploring with daddy her folks sort of deserted her. Then, when she fell ill, and daddy fell ill, and I was going to be all alone----" She paused to choke back too determined a sigh, then continued. "When they feared they were going, one of the other explorers promised to look out for me. He is Grandie, but his name isn't Benson, but he doesn't know that I know that. He lost a very precious treasure, and on account of that he is sort of hiding, although he really never did a single thing wrong," declared Mary, loyally.

"Did they go out on a regular exploring expedition?" asked Cleo very seriously, a new thought coming to her active brain.

"Yes, I suppose so. Why?" Mary inquired in turn.

"I was just thinking--but never mind. Don't let me interrupt you, Mary.

Tell us about your daddy."

"Daddy was determined not to let the fever take him, so, sick as he was, he insisted on going out to sea, but he--didn't come back."

Quick to save Mary from the threatening tears, Grace asked, "What were they exploring for?"

"Why, for orchids. I thought you knew," replied Mary, rather surprised at the question.

"No, we didn't know," Cleo said very thoughtfully, "but we guessed those wonderful orchids must have come from a tropical clime."

"Yes, we brought the bulbs with us, and that's where I still have to say 'secret,' Cleo dear," Mary responded, smiling to a.s.sure her friends she would have told them more of the mystery if she had been free to do so.

"And what is your name, really?" ventured Madaline.

"You may think it very strange, but I am not sure. Daddy used a book name, out on his exploration trips, and mother's family name was never mentioned. Grandie had my papers but you see"--and she hesitated quite a long time, then in a subdued voice she continued--"you see Grandie became ill, and he forgot. That is one reason why I am so happy his memory is returning."

"Oh, wouldn't it be lovely if you turned out to be a great lady!"

Madaline rhapsodized, true to form in a girl's love of excitement.

"I wouldn't want to be a great lady!" replied Mary, tossing back her head disdainfully. "I would rather just be a little girl scout like you!"