Edith Lavell - The Mystery of the Fires

“If we could only phone the Smiths,” sighed Mary Louise. “He’s probably over there with the boys… Suppose Jane and I run over?”

“It’s too far. It will make you late for supper.”

“Not very late. We’ll hurry. Come on, Jane. We’ll be back in ten minutes. But you go on down to the inn, Mother, and order the dinner.”

Mrs. Gay nodded, immensely relieved. What a comfort Mary Louise was! You never had to ask her to do anything for you.

The two girls hurried away along the private road beside the river, past the Flicks’ and the Robinsons’, then turned up the hill to the Smiths’ house beyond. It was Jane’s first sight of the imposing-looking place at close range. She exclaimed in admiration.

“What a marvelous house! They must be awfully rich!”

“They are,” replied Mary Louise. “But they don’t appreciate this place a bit. Mr. and Mrs. Smith are hardly ever here at all in the summer. Those two boys just run wild. There’s a nurse to look after the little girl – she’s only four years old – but the boys do pretty much as they please and boss the servants around. That’s why Mother and I feel worried about Freckles when he’s with them.”

A sedate-looking butler answered the girls’ ring at the door.

“No, miss,” was his reply to Mary Louise’s question, “the boys haven’t been here all day.”

“Did they expect to go to the picnic tonight on the island?”

“Yes, miss. Steve, the chauffeur, was to take them.”

Mary Louise sighed. There was nothing she could do.

“Well, if my brother comes back here, will you please send him right over to the inn?” she asked. “And tell him to hurry.”

The girls turned away and started back. “It’s going to spoil Mother’s evening,” remarked Mary Louise disconsolately.

“Oh, he’ll be sure to turn up soon,” returned Jane reassuringly.

“I know, but even if he does, he won’t be able to get to the island. All the boats at Shady Nook are being used. Even the rowboats. Everybody’s going except the Ditmars.”

“Poor Adelaide Ditmar!” sighed Jane. “Imagine missing all that fun just because of a grouchy husband! I’m glad I’m single.”

Mary Louise laughed.

“All men aren’t alike, Jane. You know Cliff Hunter would never miss any fun. Or Max or Norman,” she added, mentioning their two best friends in Riverside.

Mrs. Gay looked up hopefully as the girls entered the inn, but her expression changed immediately. She could tell from their faces that they had not been successful.

After supper was over, all was bustle and excitement as the people got into the boats and pushed them out into the river. There were six canoes, four rowboats, and three motorboats, all decorated beautifully or fantastically, according to the taste of the owners. Three prizes were to be awarded for the cleverest boat of each type, and everybody was to vote on the style in which he or she was not competing. Mary Louise and David McCall stepped into their flower-covered canoe; Mrs. Gay joined the Partridges in a rowboat, and Jane waited for Cliff Hunter’s motorboat to come puffing across the river. It arrived at the same time as the Fraziers’ rather seedy launch, and Jane was introduced to them and to Mrs. Hunter.

“You’ll walk away with the motorboat prize, Cliff,” called Mary Louise to the young man at the wheel. She lowered her voice. “Poor old Frazier’s launch is pathetic, and Stuart Robinson’s is just funny!”

“I hope the prize is a deck of cards,” returned Cliff. “Mine are wearing out.”

Mary Louise laughed and dipped her paddle into the water. Her canoe did look pretty, and it was a heavenly night. If only Freckles were there!

The boats began to move off, the launches puffing ahead, the canoes gliding gently behind them, and the rowboats progressing more ponderously. Somebody began to play a ukulele, and gay voices took up the tune.

The island, a small oblong strip of land, was situated about two miles down the river from Shady Nook. Several years ago someone at the resort had discovered it, and everybody had taken a hand at fixing it up for picnic purposes. There was a glorious stone fireplace, and a large spot had been cleared for dancing and games. Seats had been scattered about, and a couple of board tables had been erected near the fireplace. Tonight the whole island was alight with Japanese lanterns, giving it a gay and festive air.

When the last rowboat had finally reached its destination, the crowd all gathered together on the grass near the shore to record their votes. The two Robinson boys went about collecting them.

Mary Louise was sitting close to her mother, watching her intently.

“The Reed boys aren’t here either,” whispered Mrs. Gay. “I was just talking to Mrs. Reed, and she said she hasn’t seen Larry or George since morning. But she doesn’t seem much worried.”

“Freckles must be all right if he’s with the whole bunch,” Mary Louise assured her. “Nothing much could happen to five boys together.”

Mrs. Gay forced herself to smile.

“I’ll try not to worry, dear… Oh, listen! Mr. Robinson is going to announce the winners!”

The jovial-faced man, Stuart’s father, stepped forward.

“First prize for rowboats goes to Sue and Mabel Reed,” he said. “Come forward, girls, and get your prize. It’s a box of tennis balls.”

The twins, dressed exactly alike in blue dimity, came up together, bowing and expressing their thanks.

“The prize for canoes – to Mary Louise Gay,” continued Mr. Robinson. “More tennis balls!”

David McCall clapped loudly, and everybody else joined in the applause. Mary Louise was a general favorite at Shady Nook.

“The prize for motorboats goes to my son Stuart for his funny-looking contraption!”

Everybody clapped but Jane; she was terribly disappointed. She didn’t see why Cliff’s clever idea hadn’t taken the honors. But glancing at the young man she could detect no resentment in his face. He was a wonderful sport.

After the prizes had been disposed of, the games began, and continued until dark. Almost everyone joined in the fun – even the middle-aged people. All except a few who were helping Mrs. Flick prepare the refreshments, and Mrs. Hunter and the Fraziers, who were too stiff and dignified.

“How do you like Mrs. Hunter?” whispered Mary Louise once when the two chums found themselves hiding side by side in a game.

“Kind of stuck up,” replied Jane. “But she’s better than those Fraziers. He’s positively oily!”

“Didn’t I tell you? I wouldn’t stay in his hotel if our bungalow burned down – no matter how much money we had.”

“Mrs. Hunter seems to like him. But I think it’s Frazier who put the idea into her head that Ditmar set her cottage on fire. Because I heard him say to her, ‘I wonder whose place will burn down tonight. Ditmar stayed home!’”

“Oh, how awful!”

“Sh! Oh, gosh, we’re caught! Why must girls always talk?” lamented Jane.

The moon came up in the sky, making the night more enchanting, more wonderful than before. The games broke up, and Mrs. Flick called the people to refreshments.

“Sit with me, Mary Lou,” urged David, jealously touching her arm.

“We must find Mother,” returned the girl.

“She’s over there with Mrs. Hunter and the hotel bunch. You don’t want to be with them, do you?”

“Not particularly. But I do want to be with Mother and Jane and Cliff. So come on!”

David closed his lips tightly, but he followed Mary Louise just the same. Mrs. Gay made a place for them, and the young couple sat down.

“You’re not still worried, are you, Mother?” asked Mary Louise as she passed the chicken salad.