“You are very fond of Elsie, aren’t you, Daughter?”
“She seemed so sweet. And all our crowd liked her.”
Mr. Gay went to the window of Miss Grant’s room and threw open the shutter to let in the light. Just as Mary Louise had said, the mattress was literally torn to pieces. Piles of straw were heaped on the floor, and the ragged covering was strewn all over the room.
Mr. Gay examined it, and Mary Louise walked over to the side window—the one under which William’s ladder had been found.
“Even a piece from the mattress is on this window ledge,” she remarked as she pulled out a long strip of material. She examined it more closely. Suddenly her eyes blinked in excitement.
“This isn’t mattress cover, Daddy!” she exclaimed. “It’s clothing material! Blue sateen! From—somebody’s dress!”
Mr. Gay reached the window in two quick steps.
“What do you make of that, Mary Lou?” he demanded.
“I think it must be a piece from the thief’s clothing!” she cried in delight. “And I don’t believe it’s Elsie’s. Unless she was wearing some old dress of her aunt’s.”
“I hope you’re right,” said Mr. Gay. “Put the strip into your pocket. Crimes have been solved on slimmer evidence than that.” He turned aside. “There are no ghosts in the closet, Mary Lou,” he announced solemnly. “I just looked.”