THE BIG DAY
But the boys and girls of Central High learned nothing that day about the contents of the sealed lard can. Whatever was discovered inside it the police kept very close about.
Chet had a private interview with the Chief of the Centerport Bureau of Detectives, and so did Billy Long. Short and Long wished that he could get through with police interference in his affairs, and grumbled some; but the detectives treated him pretty nicely this time, and the two boys went home wondering what would be the outcome of the "treasure hunting expedition."
"Just the same, we found something!" ejaculated Chet. "And it is important, I feel sure."
"Wish it was the money stolen from Stresch & Potter. The firm has offered five hundred dollars reward for the recovery of the money and the apprehension of the burglars," said Short and Long.
"Say! that would be great for you," his friend said. "Wouldn't it?"
"We'd take Alice out of that factory and let her finish High," said Billy, quickly. "That's what we'd do at the Long domicile."
"I hope it is the stolen money, then," said Chet.
"Hot chance of that," scoffed Billy. "Those fellows that 'burgled' the store got away weeks ago and have probably spent the money by this time."
The discovery of the sealed can on the island did not banish from the minds of the girls of Central High, however, the mystery of the stolen shell. This was a tragedy that loomed bigger and bigger as the day of the races approached. And it was very near now.
The twins were delighted to be able to row with their mates on the eight-oared crew; but like the other members, they were quite hopeless of winning the race if they had to use the old boat.
"Somebody who owed us a big grudge turned that trick of stealing the shell," Bobby Hargrew declared, again and again.
"But we never did anything to the crews of the other schools to make them hate us so," cried the doctor's daughter.
"Only threatening to beat them in the race," said Laura, doubtfully.
"That shouldn't be a sufficient reason for them to hate us," one of the Lockwood twins declared. "It does just seem as though it was done out of spite."
"And who's so spiteful toward the Central High eight?" demanded Bobby, keenly.
"Now, Bobby!" cautioned Laura.
"That's all right, Mother Wit. You see the point just as clearly as I do," declared Bobby. "You know who's been 'knocking' our crew all the time——"
"Why—you don't mean——" began Jess, in wide-eyed wonder; but Laura said:
"Hush! Don't say such a thing. We must not accuse people without some ground for suspicion."
"How much ground do you want—the whole earth?" snapped Bobby, in deep gloom.
So the name of the suspected culprit was not mentioned; but the little coterie of friends looked wisely at each other, and nodded.
For, you see, when a girl is disloyal to her school and classmates, how can they help suspecting her if evil should arise? A girl who will not accept the decision of the majority in school affairs, who scoffs at the efficiency of the various athletic teams—who never will be contented unless she is in the lead of everything—can neither be popular nor trusted. Disloyalty is a crime that every right-minded person abhors; and although these girls did not mention the name of the person they suspected, all realized who was meant when Bobby said:
"Well, the time is coming when she'll fly her kite too high! Everybody will see what she is, and then she'll never be able to fool anybody again—neither teachers, nor students of Central High. That's one satisfaction."
"And yet, not very satisfactory at present," returned Laura Belding, thoughtfully.
"Put on your thinking cap, then, Mother Wit, and catch her," said Bobby, in a whisper. "You did it before, you know."
The parents of some of the girls were intensely interested in the outcome of the races on the Big Day, too; and somebody with influence had induced the Chief of Police to put detectives on the trail of the lost shell. This, however, beside a search of the lake shore by the police launch, as already reported, did nothing toward uncovering the hiding place of the shell, or the identity of the thieves.
It seemed ridiculous to suppose that one girl—no matter how spiteful she might feel—could have accomplished the crime of stealing the eight-oared shell alone. Yet Bobby Hargrew's insistence had impressed Laura Belding.
Perhaps, too, the fact that the other girls of Central High expected something brilliant in the way of detective work from Mother Wit spurred the jeweler's daughter to attempt to find the lost shell.
Instead, she attempted to make the guilty person return the new boat in time for the boat race. And to do this she tried a scheme that might have been fruitless had the culprit not been an amateur in deceit and wrongdoing. No real thief would have fallen into Laura Belding's trap.
She caused to be printed and posted upon the bulletin boards all over the Hill section of Centerport a quarter-sheet handbill which read in part that the person having caused the disappearance of the new eight-oared shell belonging to the Girls' Branch Athletic League of Central High was known, and that person would be publicly exposed if the shell was not returned, or the place of its hiding revealed, in season for the races. And she signed the bill with Professor Dimp's name, he having agreed to lend it for the occasion.
This was not many hours before the dawning of the day of the races; but Laura saw to it that the way to and from school for the person suspected was fairly plastered with those notices! Printed in their black type, they could not fail to be seen by the right eyes.
"What do you expect will come of that?" demanded Chet, rather inclined to scoff at his sister's plan.
"I hope it will cause a change of heart on the part of the person guilty of the outrage," declared Laura, laughing.
"Huh! If I knew who it was that stole the shell I'd go to 'em with a policeman."
"And then it would be denied, and we'd never get our shell back in time. We don't know where it is," said Laura.
"And you evidently don't know just who is guilty," responded Chet.
"Moral certainty would not hold good in court," his sister returned, slily.
"Bet you nothing comes of it!" growled Chet.
But Laura would not wager anything with him. Perhaps she was not very certain in her own mind, at that, that she had gone about the matter in the right way.
The night before the Big Day arrived, and nothing was heard of the shell. The girls were hopeless. Even Bobby lost her last atom of cheerfulness. They were confident that, if they had to row in the old boat, Keyport, at least, would beat them in the race.
But when the new watchman opened the boat-House doors early on the morning of the race day he found pinned to the door a paper which bore in scraggly lettering this admonition:
"Look under the east float."
He proceeded to do this at once; and there was the shell, missing for so many anxious days, somewhat scraped by being washed by the current against the timbers underneath the float, but otherwise quite fit for use!
All the girls of Central High did not hear this welcome news until noon, when the schools of Centerport let out for the day. The afternoon was to be given up to the aquatic contests, and troops of boys and girls, as well as grown folks, went to the shore, or crowded the boats that were stationed along the racing course.
After all the Lockwood twins did not have to give up the canoe contest. Aunt Dora would not hear of their losing practise; and she was so much improved that Mr. Lockwood hired an easy carriage and took her to the races that she might see Dora and Dorothy do their best to win both the canoeing and eight-oared trophies.
"They are real good girls, after all, Lemuel," said Aunt Dora, reflectively. "Now both of them have offered to go home with me."
"No!" cried the flower lover. "I can't spare them, Dora."
"I know you can't," admitted his sister, rather mildly for her. "And although they only said they would come to me for a little while, one at a time, I am not going to accept their sacrifice. I see plainly how much they are to each other—and to you. I guess they are yours, Lemuel, and if you have made mistakes in bringing them up, they are too sweet of disposition naturally to be spoiled by your foolishness.
"No," said Aunt Dora, conclusively, "the place for Dora is with Dorothy, and the place for Dorothy is with Dora. Besides," she added, "it would certainly trouble me to have them about I never could be sure whether my namesake was visiting me, or the other one!"