Mary Louise at Dorfield/Chapter 18

The next day the shop was doing a thriving business. Josie was busily engaged in hunting up information concerning the best method to pursue when contemplating taking a donkey trip through Spain for a middle aged lady who had saved money for the venture and was determined to have the trip in spite of discouraging friends; Elizabeth was touching up a club paper on extra foraneous ornamentation; and Irene, who had been sent for in a hurry to do some smocking, had just wheeled herself from the dumb-waiter, produced her thimble and gone to work.

Hortense Markle came into the shop looking, as usual, fresh as the dawn and her eyes sparkling like dew drops. Josie looked at her almost pityingly. It seemed so sad to her that anyone who looked so charming could be so wicked.

“I have brought some trifling little gew-gaws that Felix and I have picked up at various times in our travels, thinking you young merchants might have some sale for them. They are of no great value, but there is no use in keeping such things around the house when one no longer cares for them,” she said, opening a package she carried. “Would you care to try to sell them?”

“Sure, we would,” answered Josie. “We are expecting to go into that kind of business a good deal. Are the things antiques?”

“Some of them! Here is a cameo brooch that is really quite pretty, but I am not the cameo brooch type. I can’t imagine what made Felix take—buy—such a thing.” Josie noticed the little slip but her expressionless face gave no clue to her thoughts. “Here is a chain, quite pretty, and a locket too.”

There were various trinkets, all of them accepted by the girls and a price agreed upon for them. They were to receive a commission on the sales.

“I have some rugs too that we don’t want,” continued Hortense. “Would you like them? Perhaps you might buy them outright and make quite a pretty penny on them.”

“Send them around and we will see about it,” said Josie. “Are they handsome?”

“Yes, quite fine! Felix thinks they are prettier than the ones we are using but I have a fancy for the old ones to which I have grown accustomed.”

Irene and Elizabeth listened to the above conversation with feelings of mingled astonishment and amusement. Life for those girls was very interesting during the days while the net was slowly closing around the unconscious Markles. They could not help feeling sorry for them, but at the same time disgust at Hortense’s perfidy was uppermost in the minds of the girls who had led quiet sheltered lives themselves.

“Tell me, Miss O’Gorman, has young Mr. Dulaney ever brought back your father’s notebook, and could he make head or tail of the pot-hooks?” asked Hortense, pretending to be very nonchalant.

“No, not yet, but he was to get to it last evening,” answered Josie. “But here he is now.”

Bob Dulaney came in the shop looking decidedly perturbed.

“Oh, Miss O’Gorman, I am worried stiff,” he cried, taking in the other occupants with a general bow. “I can’t bear to meet you, but I must have it over with. Do you know something has happened to the book you lent me, your father’s notebook, I mean. I have not had it out of my possession since you handed it to me, in my breast pocket all the time and when my coat was not on my back it was hanging on a chair by my bed. I have not had time to open the little book until last night. Then I untied the hard knot of the ribbons and found the book filled with nothing but blank pages. I can’t account for it. Certainly when you showed it to us when you moved in, it had ciphered notes in it. I remember well that you untied the strings and the pages were covered close with hieroglyphics. You put it back on the shelves tightly tied up and I fancy it had not been opened since. In fact, I think you said it had not when you lent it to me.”

It was difficult for Josie to pretend to the perturbed young man, but she felt she must keep up the farce before the watchful Hortense. She devoutly hoped Irene and Elizabeth could hold on to themselves. She could plainly see they were excited and that Irene was filled with pity for poor Bob.

“It is too bad,” said Josie with as cold a voice as she could muster. “I should not have let the book get out of my possession. Of course, I don’t know myself what was in it, never having had time to dig out the meaning since my father died, but I understood from him that the information in it would be of the greatest value for the secret service.”

“I know it—but oh, Miss O’Gorman, I can’t tell you how I feel about it. I’m so miserable. I’m going to see a detective about it immediately. I don’t see how it happened, or who could have known even that I had it. Could it have been done before I took it?”

“Well, hardly,” spoke up Hortense with something of a sneer. “I was here when Miss O’Gorman gave it to you and she remarked at the time that—”

“Well, there is no use in crying over spilt milk, as my father used to say,” interrupted Josie. “I have learned a lesson and that is perhaps as worth while as the information detectives may have gained from the book—that is, not to lend too promiscuously.”

Irene turned away her face. She felt so sorry for Bob she could not bear to look at him. She felt Josie was carrying the thing too far, but she knew she must keep out of the discussion. If she could only let Bob know that she trusted him.

“I am so sorry! That is all I can say,” and Bob turned to go. “Good-by, all of you. I fancy you won’t want to see me in your shop any more.”

“Oh, well, we may have to see you to try and clear up this matter,” said Josie, brusquely. She followed him to the door and out into the hall. Her manner suddenly changed.

“Shh!” she warned. “It is all right. Don’t worry a minute. I have the notes all safe. You must forgive me for being so rude. Don’t ask any questions now but come back in a few minutes. Wait across the street until you see Mrs. Markle is gone, or better still, go to the back of the house and come up in the elevator and wait there until she is out of the house. We need your help. Understand?”

“No, but it is all right if you say so,” was Bob’s relieved reply.

“Well, young man, you come back here as soon as the coast is clear and, if you are sharp, you are going to assist in the biggest haul of fourflushers of this century. Also, you are going to get the scoop of your life for your paper. But don’t move without letting me know.” With that Josie turned back the collar of her middy blouse and disclosed a badge that made Bob whistle.

The young man carried down those old stairs a much lighter heart than he had carried up.

“Who would have thought it?” he muttered. “A chip of the old block, that’s sure—but what has the beautiful Mrs. Markle to do with it? Gee! But life is interesting!”

When Josie went back in the shop, Hortense began with a bitter invective against Bob Dulaney. Of course, he had purloined the notes. He very well knew their value and was simply trying to pull the wool over Josie’s eyes. Empty and blank papers indeed! She had seen the sheets all covered with notes with her own eyes and had seen Josie tie the ribbons around the little book in the hardest kind of a knot. Dulaney had simply sold them to some collector. For her part she had no faith in him. Why didn’t Josie send for the police? Josie told her perhaps she would but, after all, she doubted the papers being so very valuable. She only prized them for sentimental reasons. Irene sat like a frozen girl during the conversation. She longed for Hortense to go, which she did soon, and then Bob came whizzing up in the dumb-waiter and there was general rejoicing in the Higgledy-Piggledy Shop.

“We must lie very low and keep very quiet,” warned Josie. “Remember we are all novices and dealing with hardened criminals. We must not make the mistake the Markles are making in underestimating the intelligence of our opponents. Father always said to give the enemy credit for having more sense and ingenuity than you possess yourself and try to make up for your possible lack by eternal vigilance. Do you realize, Elizabeth, that our shop has been drawn into this net, that we are receivers of stolen goods? Every one of these trinkets has been stolen, also the rugs she is to send up on approval. Of course, she hopes we will buy them outright and hand over the money in case she and her rascally husband may have to vamoose in a hurry. We will keep her waiting for a few days, eh, partner Elizabeth?”