It was only a day later, as it happened, when Betty had the whole story. It seemed that the deed signed by “Peter” and witnessed by Robert Wales was wanted, exactly as Christy had guessed, to determine the ownership of a property worth many millions; and the lawyers of the rightful heirs had offered a large reward for its recovery. Meanwhile a daring adventurer, who was trying to assert his claims to the estate, had hired a disreputable detective agency to find and destroy the deed. Their clever work had traced it to its strange hiding-place, and they had made three desperate attempts to get hold of the paper. The fact that Mr. Wales was a relative of the rightful heirs—Robert and “Peter” were cousins—had made them suspect that his daughter would know of the search for the paper and refuse to give it up; but they had never guessed that the girls would have discovered and emptied the two inner drawers, of the existence of which nobody else knew but their client. “Mr. Smith” did not represent any Boston antique shop, and his knowledge of old furniture was confined to an exhaustive special course in the arrangement of sliding panels and secret springs. But though this had failed him he was a resourceful sleuth, as is proven by the fact that just an hour after Madeline had taken the papers to Dick Blake he appeared at her studio apartment in the guise of the building’s window cleaner; and it was due only to Madeline’s prompt recognition of his resemblance to the lady in black of the night before, that in less than an hour more he had been arrested, charged with despoiling the Tally-ho desk and also with entering Betty’s room in the little white house with intent to take the papers if he could find them there. For Betty had gone home to discover her possessions in great confusion, and Dorothy had told of waking up to find somebody in their room who said she was the washerwoman waiting for Betty to come and give her the clothes.
“And when I said ‘you’re not our wash-woman ’cause she’s Mrs. Gibbs,’ she said she was Mrs. Gibbs’ sister, and Mrs. Gibbs was sick. And then I guess I was asleep again,” Dorothy ended comprehensively.
From Betty’s rooms Mr. Smith had returned empty-handed to the Tally-ho, where he had previously succeeded in opening two drawers; and this time he completed his search in the most conclusive fashion that occurred to him by laying open the whole interior of the desk.
It was a detective story ready-made, Madeline declared, and promptly wrote it up, only to have one editor tell her that it lacked reality and the next assure her it was commonplace.
“You certainly never can tell how things will take,” complained Madeline sadly. “That’s what Mr. Morton says. He’s as nearly cross with you as he can be with his dear Miss B. A., because ‘those fool splashers’ that he got some shop to order a few of are catching on so splendidly. It’s certainly fortunate that Bob Enderby thought of the patent, for it seems there’s a small fortune in ploshkins.”
“Betty Wales and Co.” had certainly enjoyed a successful year. Will’s salary had been raised three times, and Nan had made a fine record and been asked to take a party of girls abroad for the summer. But between tea-shop, ploshkins, and “hidden treasure,” Betty was what Will called “most disgustingly wealthy.” It was great fun to be able to rush down town in Cleveland and buy the Japanese screens and the hammock that mother wanted for the piazza of the little cottage they had taken for the summer in a lake-side suburb. It was better still to be accepted joyously as the family cook. Now that she had plenty of money in the bank for summer clothes and other expenses, and a steady income from ploshkins, it was not necessary to waste time counting up how much her cooking saved the family. The only disappointment came when father absolutely refused to take her “ready money,” after what he had said in the fall about how every little would help.
“I can’t do that,” he told her, “and I don’t need to now. We’ve pulled through the worst of our business trouble, though we shan’t be back on Easy Street for a good while yet, I’m afraid.” And he sighed a little.
But Betty only laughed. “Who wants so particularly to be back on Easy Street?” she demanded. “It’s fun to see what you can do when you try. I like being part of Betty Wales and Co. I like being the cook. I shall like helping in any other ways that turn up.” Betty smiled a little far-away smile. “Lots of queer things have turned up this year. I certainly do wonder what I shall get into next.”
Transcriber’s Notes:
On page 164, pigeon-holes has been changed to pigeonholes.