“Where did they go?” was her next question.
“I don’t know. They are to report back here on the morning of January second—or forfeit their bail.”
“They won’t be back,” announced Mary Louise. “Five hundred dollars is nothing to them.”
The matron turned to read a letter; she had no more time to discuss the subject with the young detective. But Mary Louise lingered.
“I just want to ask one more question,” she said; “and then I won’t take any more of your time. Was there a letter from this Mrs. Ferguson, or did she merely send the money?”
“There was a letter. I had it copied, because Mr. Hayden told me to keep copies of any correspondence these girls had while they were here.... Wait a minute—yes, here it is. You may read it for yourself.”
Mary Louise took the copy eagerly and read it as quickly as she could. The writing was poor but entirely legible, and the words were spelled right. But the subject matter was so rambling that in certain places she was not sure that she read it correctly. This was the letter which she finally deciphered:
Dear Girls:
You poor girls! Meet your misfortune with this $500. U.S. justice is terrible! In what other country would they detain innocent girls?
Baltimore is where I am now, but I am leaving immediately for a trip to Florida. Margaret can’t go with me on account of school. Will you write to her? Get her address from the phone book.
Treasure Island is playing at the movies, and we liked it a lot. From my observation it is like the book. C.S. enjoyed it thoroughly. And so did I. Bring me back the book if you go home for Christmas. It was mine anyhow.
Tonight I am packing. Baltimore is tiresome, and I’ll be glad to leave.
Love, Aunt Ethel.
“May I make another copy of this letter?” Mary Louise asked the matron. Since it was rather peculiar, it would bear studying. Besides, it mentioned Margaret, and that might mean Margaret Detweiler.
The matron agreed.