The two girls by this time had left Main Street and turned into Putnam Square.
"Grace," said Eleanor suddenly. "I believe I can guess the place you are headed for. You are going to Henry Hammond's office, aren't you?"
"Yes," said Grace, surprised at the accuracy of Eleanor's guess, "I am."
"And you are going there about the money that he stole from Marian. Am I right!"
"You are," answered Grace truthfully. "But how did you know?"
"Because," said Eleanor quietly, "I intended going there myself."
"Then you think that----" began Grace.
"I think that Henry Hammond is a thief and an impostor," finished Eleanor. "He tried to interest Aunt Margaret in some real estate, and called at 'Heartsease' on two different occasions. She is a very shrewd business woman and he couldn't fool her in the least. Both times he called he kept looking about him all the time, as though he were trying to see whether we had any valuables. He raved over the house, and hinted to be shown through it, but we weren't so foolish.
"When Chief Burroughs was questioning the prisoner to-day about his confederate, it suddenly flashed across me that it might be this man Hammond. He appeared here for the first time on the night of the bazaar and--"
"Eleanor," exclaimed Grace, "you've missed your vocation. You should have been a detective. I believe what you say to be the truth and have thought so for some time. We can hardly denounce Henry Hammond upon suspicion, but we can scare him and make him give back the cla.s.s money.
Perhaps we are defeating the ends of justice by not telling what we suspect, but if we have him arrested on suspicion, then the only way we can get back our money is to publicly charge him with extorting it from Marian. Think what a disgrace that would be for her in her graduating year, too," Grace added. "She would feel too ashamed to ever again face her best friends."
"I have thought of all that, too, and now that we are both of the same mind, let's on to victory," said Eleanor.
The two girls paused and shook hands as they entered the building in which Henry Hammond had his office, then mounted the stairs with the full determination of winning in their cause.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Hammond," called Eleanor, as she opened the door and walked serenely in, followed by Grace.
Henry Hammond started nervously up from his desk at the sound of her voice. The bland smile with which he greeted her changed to a frown as his eyes rested upon Grace, and he saluted her coldly.
"I am, indeed, honored, this afternoon," he said with sarcasm. "Miss Harlowe has never before visited my office."
"We had a few minutes to spare and thought we'd run in and tell you the news," replied Grace sweetly. "We have just come from the police station."
"Rather a peculiar place for two High School girls to visit, isn't it!"
asked the man with a suspicion of a sneer.
"Yes, but we were the heroines in an adventure last night," replied Grace evenly. "We found the bazaar money that was stolen last Thanksgiving."
"What!" exploded Hammond. Then trying to conceal his agitation, he said with affected carelessness, "I believe I do remember something about that robbery."
"I was sure that you would," returned Grace, looking squarely at him.
"That was the night of the day you came to Oakdale, was it not?"
"I really can't recollect the exact date," murmured Hammond.
"One of the thieves was caught to-day, at the old haunted house, where he had hidden the box," volunteered Eleanor.
A grayish pallor overspread Hammond's face. With a desperate effort at self-control, he said:
"Ah, there was more than one, then!"
"Oh, yes," declared Grace cheerfully. "There were two in it. The other will probably be apprehended soon. The prisoner hasn't revealed his ident.i.ty, as yet. The funny thing is that I had seen the prisoner before. On the train that we took from New York, after seeing Anne Pierson in the play, I saw this same man try to steal a watch and chain from an old gentleman, who would not believe me when I warned him of his danger."
"When we finally reached Oakdale," continued Grace, "I watched to see if he got off the train, and he did. We saw a man meet him at the station, who--"
Henry Hammond sprang up and seizing his hat, said harshly, "I hope you young ladies will excuse me, what you have told me is so interesting that I believe I shall go over to the station house and get all the details. Will you remain until I return?" He fumbled in a drawer of his desk, and both girls saw him take out a bankbook.
"Thank you," said Grace politely. "We can't stay, but before we go we should like to have you write us a check for the five hundred dollars that Marian Barber foolishly loaned you. You see she had no right to do so. Besides, she is still a minor. If you do it at once we can cash it to-day. It is now fifteen minutes of three. I'll call the bank and tell them that I am coming. But first I must send a message to my father."
With these words, Grace walked to the telephone without giving Hammond time to answer. "Give me Main 268a, please," she said. With a bound he sprang to the door, but it closed in his face, and he heard the turn of the key in the lock, just as Grace calmly called, "h.e.l.lo, is this Chief Burroughs? Is my father there?" Then she answered, "You say he is there?
Well, this is his daughter, Grace. Please tell him that Miss Savelli and I are just about to leave Mr. Hammond's office, and wish him to meet us outside."
Hammond sprang toward Grace, but instantly realizing that it would be folly to molest her, drew back, scowling savagely.
Grace hung up the receiver and rang again. This time she called the bank, asking for the president. "Is this Mr. Furlow?" she said. "This is Grace Harlowe. I am at the office of Mr. Henry Hammond, who is about to write my father a check for five hundred dollars, which he wishes to cash before the bank closes. It is now ten minutes of three. He will be there inside of seven minutes. Thank you. Good-bye."
"Now," she commanded, turning to Hammond, the expression of whose face was a combination of baffled rage, disappointment and fear, "write the check."
With a muttered imprecation he went to his desk, jerked out a checkbook and wrote the desired check.
"To whom shall I make it payable?" he muttered.
"To Thomas G. Harlowe," replied Grace composedly.
Inserting her father's name, he fairly flung the check in her face, and strode to the door.
"Open this door," he commanded.
There was no response.
"You may open the door, Eleanor," called Grace. "Mr. Hammond is ready to go now."
The key turned in the lock. With a savage jerk, Henry Hammond flung open the door, and brushing Eleanor aside, bolted for the stairway.
Five seconds later the two girls reached the sidewalk and found Mr.
Harlowe waiting for them.
"Father, dear," exclaimed Grace. "Here is a check for five hundred dollars, made payable to you by Mr. Henry Hammond. You have five minutes in which to cash it, before the bank closes. I'll tell you the story of it later. I haven't time now."
The First National Bank was just around the corner, and three minutes later Mr. Harlowe walked in, accompanied by Grace and Eleanor, and cashed the check without any trouble.
"Tom Harlowe must have made money on some deal with Hammond," thought the cashier, as he closed the window. "He is about the only one who has that I know of."
"And now, daughter, whose money is this, and what is it all about?"
asked her father gravely, as they left the bank.
"I can have no better confidant than my father," declared Grace, and she thereupon told him the whole story.
Mr. Harlowe heard her story with mingled emotions of pride and disapproval.