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"What was I saying? Oh, yes, Rose and Florence were rivals and they were both anxious to get their hands on the Swenster pearls."
"I never heard about them," Madge remarked. "Were they valuable?"
"They were reputed to be worth a small fortune. The pearls had been bought abroad generations before and were perfectly matched. They were to be pa.s.sed down to the eldest daughter."
"Then Florence was to have them," Cara observed.
"According to custom, yes. But that was what caused all the trouble.
During his lifetime, old Mr. Swenster permitted the girls to take turns wearing the pearls. They were very jealous of their father's favor in regard to the privilege, or so rumor had it. Florence thought the pearls were hers and resented having her sister even wear them.
"Then Mr. Swenster died and when his will was read, the daughters had the surprise of their lives. It was learned that he had left the pearls to his favorite, Rose."
"That must have stirred up trouble," Madge smiled.
"Yes, Florence considered it a great injustice. She claimed she had been cheated out of her rightful inheritance. For a time, there was a disgraceful fuss."
"Rose kept the pearls?" Madge questioned.
"So it was generally believed, but I doubt if anyone ever knew for certain. The matter was suddenly hushed up."
Mrs. Grandale relapsed into a meditative silence, seeming to forget the girls. Then she said, half to herself: "No one ever saw Rose wear the pearls-that was the odd part of it."
"Were Rose and Florence friends after that?" Cara probed.
"They went about together but it was apparent things were not as should be between two sisters. Everyone said the pearls brought them misfortune.
At any rate, Florence died the following year."
"Oh, how dreadful," Cara murmured. "How poor Rose must have felt."
"She dropped out of society after that," Mrs. Grandale returned. "For years, she lived alone at the old mansion and then one day, she up and married."
"She isn't living now, of course?" Madge inquired.
"Oh, no, she died young-shortly after her daughter was born. The little girl was called Agatha. She's the last of the Swenster line now, and they say the estate has dwindled to almost nothing."
"What became of Agatha Swenster?" Cara asked.
"Well, I can't exactly say," the old lady responded, frowning thoughtfully. "She lived in Claymore until eight years ago and then closed up the place because she couldn't afford to keep such a large house open. She went to another town, but where, I can't say."
"You say she's the last of the Swenster line," Madge prompted as Mrs.
Grandale appeared to have ended her story. "She never married?"
"Not to my knowledge. She did have an adopted boy. Let me think-no, I can't recall his name. He turned out badly. Agatha thought a lot of him and folks said it most broke her heart when he got into trouble."
"What did he do?" Cara questioned curiously.
"I can't tell you that. The Swensters always kept their troubles to themselves. I do know that it was something that turned Agatha against him. They separated, and after that she closed up her house. It may have been because of money or perhaps on account of the boy. At any rate, she's having a hard time of it now like as not. She's getting on in years and with no one to support her, it must be trying."
"What do you imagine became of the pearls?" Madge asked suddenly.
The old lady smiled.
"I imagine they were sold years ago."
The girls had learned all there was to know concerning the Swenster mansion and its former occupants, but they lingered a half hour longer, before saying goodbye to Mrs. Grandale. Before they left, her daughter appeared from the kitchen with fresh-baked cake and a cool beverage.
"Delightful people," Cara observed as they drove away. "And did you ever hear anyone more talkative than Mrs. Grandale? She's a walking encyclopaedia of Claymore's history. Did you learn what you wanted to know, Madge?"
"I learned enough to make me more interested than ever in the old mansion. Strange about those pearls, wasn't it?"
"Yes, they turned out to be a sort of family hoodoo."
"I wonder if they were actually sold?"
Cara stared at her friend in astonishment.
"Why, Mrs. Grandale said they were."
"That was only her opinion," Madge corrected. "Of course, I have no reason for thinking the pearls weren't sold. I was merely wondering."
She relapsed into moody silence and did not broach the subject again during the ride back to Claymore. They had remained at the farmhouse longer than they had planned and it was nearly supper time when they reached the city. Cara requested Madge to drop her off at the Wayne home which was not out of the way.
"Going to be busy tonight?" Madge inquired as she halted the car in front of the Wayne residence.
"No-why?"
"I thought we might do a little sleuthing."
"Something in connection with the Swenster mansion?" Cara demanded suspiciously.
"Yes, I have a notion to go there tonight and watch. It would be fun to see if that man comes back."
"Fun!" Cara snorted. "I have other ideas of amus.e.m.e.nt. Count me out!"
"Well, if you won't come, I suppose I can get Jane or Enid," Madge said shrewdly.
Cara visibly wavered. She had no desire to go near the Swenster mansion again, but neither could she bear to have Enid or Jane sharing in an adventure which was hers for the taking.
"All right," she gave in. "If I can get away, I'll come."
"Meet me at the pine grove at nine o'clock," Madge directed, as she shifted gears. "And don't fail to come. Something exciting may break!"
CHAPTER V Madge Turns Sleuth
Nine o'clock found Madge waiting at the pine grove which adjoined the Swenster Mansion. She stationed herself near a street lamp where Cara could not fail to see her. Ten minutes elapsed, then fifteen.