Chapter V: L. Mudge, Detective

"The look o' the thing, the chance of mistake,
All were against me. That I knew the first;
But knowing also what my duty was, I did it."

"Why, Mr. Mudge!" Winnie exclaimed, recovering herself, "excuse me for crying out, but really I did not expect to see you here."

"I presume not," the gentleman replied dryly. "Under other circumstances such intrusion would be unwarrantable, but I presume you understand that in a case like this we must question not only human witnesses but the place itself, and often our most valuable testimony is of a circumstantial character. This broken lock, for instance, would seem to prove that the thief entered through the studio."

"Oh! that," I cried, "proves nothing; it has been broken this long while--since the very beginning of the term."

Winnie clasped my hand tightly, and I understood that she did not wish her escapade with the sliding trunk explained.

"Are you sure of that?" Mr. Mudge asked, looking slightly disappointed. "Even if the lock was not broken on the night of the robbery, the fact still remains that an entrance was practicable here at that time."

"Why, of course!" I exclaimed. "It must have been the man who looked in at the transom."

"What man?" asked Mr. Mudge; and I told the story of the appearance the night before. Winnie came forward impulsively, as though she wished to interrupt me, then seemed to change her mind and walked to the window, standing with her back to us.

"And why is it," asked Mr. Mudge, "that neither Miss Cynthia nor Miss Winnie have mentioned this very suspicious circumstance?"

"I was not in the room when it happened, I did not see the man," Winnie replied, without turning her head.

"This thief may have made an earlier attempt which was foiled," Mr. Mudge continued. "It seems to me a little careless that you did not report the fact of the broken lock when you first discovered it, and have the fastening mended."

Winnie's eyes shone with suppressed amusement. "You think, then, Mr. Mudge, that some one from the outside committed the burglary? I am very glad that you have renounced the idea that any member of this school could have been guilty of such a thing."

"My dear young lady," replied Mr. Mudge, "I never indulge in preconceived ideas, but I give every possibility a hearing. I have nearly completed my examination of the _locale_, but must ask one trifling favor. Will you kindly lend me all your keys?"

"You don't mean to say that you are going through all our things?" I exclaimed, aghast at the thought that the secret of the commissary must now be disclosed.

"A mere matter of form," he murmured, extending his hand with persuasive authority. Winnie delivered her one key promptly, saying, "I will go and tell the other girls."

"Quite unnecessary," Mr. Mudge replied. "I have a pass key which opened Miss Adelaide's capacious trunk. I have shaken out all her furbelows and tried to fold them again as well as I could, but I fear that the gowns with trains were a little too difficult for me. Miss Milly's bureau drawers were in a wild state of mix: ribbons, laces, gloves, hair crimpers, dried-up cake, perfumery, jewelry, chewing-gum, love letters (innocent ones from other young ladies), a manicure set, a bonnet pulled to pieces, a box of Huyler's, fancy work, dressmaker's and other bills (which I have taken the liberty to borrow for a day or two), dancing slippers and German favors, a tin box containing marshmallows and a bottle of French dressing, menthol pencil, pepsum lozenges for indigestion, box of salted almonds, bangles, sachet, photograph of Harvard foot-ball team, notes to lectures on evidences of Christianity, silver bonbonniere containing candied violets, programmes of symphony rehearsals, caramels and embroidery silks gummed together, a handsome book of etchings converted into a herbarium or pressing book for botany class, and strapped together by buckling elastic garters around it; fine Geneva watch, out of order; match box containing specimens of live beetles, which I fear I released; pair of embroidered silk stockings, in need of mending; a diary, disappointing since it contains but two entries; packet of letters from home, tied with corset lacing (these I have borrowed), packet of ditto from a certain 'Devotedly yours, Stacey, F. S.' tied with blue ribbon--these are of no interest to me and I will not violate their secrets; badge of the Kings' Daughters, button of West Point cadet, a fan bearing some autographs, a mouldy lemon, a dream book, etc., etc. The more I tried to examine her affairs the more confused I became, and I finally dumped them all out on the floor and then shoveled them back again. I don't believe she will ever suspect that they have been touched."

I laughed, but Winnie looked uneasy. "I think, sir," she said, "that it is hardly honorable to carry away Milly's private letters."

"Any objection to having me read yours?" he asked sharply.

"None at all," Winnie replied, at the same time handing him her little writing desk, "but with Milly the case is different. I do not think Mr. Roseveldt will like it."

"Mr. Roseveldt will understand the necessity of the case," Mr. Mudge replied.

"Have you looked through Cynthia's things?" I asked.

"Yes, first of all. Everything in admirable order. She sets you other young ladies an example in point of neatness. And now, Miss Smith, I will thank you to give me the key to that small, old-fashioned trunk under your bed. It is the only one which my pass key will not fit; the lock has gone out of date."

"Any one but a detective could have opened it without a key," I replied, somewhat snappishly, "if they had had the penetration to discover that the hinges are broken. You simply swing the lid around this way."

"Dear, dear, and so we keep a restaurant, do we? I believe I now understand the slight trepidation which you manifested on being requested to deliver up your keys. Reassure yourself. I am retained to unravel but one mystery; any others which may tumble into my possession during the search will be as safe as though buried in the grave. I believe this is all, as far as the rooms are concerned. If Miss Smith will accompany me now to the library, I will take her personal deposition."

Mr. Mudge was in the main kind. He did not alarm me in the least, and asked but few questions.

"Have you reason to suspect any one?"

"No."

"Very good. Did you see any one in the parlor the night of the robbery?"

"Yes, Winnie."

"But you did not suspect her when you discovered that the money was gone?"

"No, Winnie was honest and open as the day; it was impossible that she could take it."

"Hum, your parlor-mate, Miss Vaughn, does not share your opinion of your friend. Do you know of any reason for the coolness which apparently exists between them?"

"Yes, Winnie has frankly given Cynthia her opinion of certain underhanded performances of hers."

"Such as----"

"I am not a tale-bearer."

"In this examination, Miss Smith, you will please answer all questions put to you--and abstain from flippancy. Believe me, I ask nothing from idle curiosity; nothing which does not have its bearings on this case."

"Cynthia is continually doing things that exasperate Winnie. She put her muff between the sheets at the foot of Milly's bed. When Milly slipped her foot down and felt the fur she thought that it was a rat or some wild animal, and she nearly shrieked herself into convulsions. Cynthia laughed till she almost cried, but Winnie was raging with indignation, and gave her such a scoring that Cynthia has never forgiven her."

"Is that the only source of unpleasantness between them?"

"No; such affairs are always coming up," and I related the trick of the costumes, which has been told in the preceding volume. "And lately," I added, "Cynthia has been very obsequious to Milly, and they have been quite intimate. Winnie has not approved of the friendship. She told Milly that she did not believe Cynthia was sincere, but did not succeed in separating them. Cynthia surmised that Winnie was not pleased, and taunted her with being jealous, and Winnie let them proudly alone, until something happened at Milly's dressmaker, when she interfered again, declaring that Cynthia was going too far, and that Milly needed some one to protect her."

"What happened at the dressmaker's?"

"I don't know exactly. Milly went to the dressmaker's rooms last week to have a dress fitted, and Winnie was with her. She came back very much displeased, and had a long talk with Cynthia in her bedroom. As she came out we heard her say, 'Downright dishonorable; as bad as stealing;' and Cynthia called after her: 'I'll pay you for this; we shall see who is a thief, Miss Winifred De Witt.'"

"Hum!" said Mr. Mudge. "The importance of these little tiffs between girls must not be exaggerated. They have probably made it all up by this time."

"Indeed they have not," I replied.

"Can you give me the address of Miss Milly's dressmaker? On second thought, it is of no consequence. I have it on this bill: 'To Madame Celeste, Fifth Avenue: For tailor-made costume in dark green cloth, trimmed with sable, sixty-seven dollars.'"

"But that was Cynthia's dress," I said.

"It is charged here to Miss Milly Roseveldt."

"Oh!" I exclaimed, a light beginning to break in.

"And you never suspected what it was that occurred at the dressmaker's which displeased Miss Winnie?"

"Never, until this moment. Milly has cried a great deal, but she would not tell her trouble, even to Adelaide."

"Very well. I will step across to Madame Celeste. No; on reflection I will speak to Miss Milly first. Will you kindly ask her to come to me?"

"Then this is all you wish to ask me?"

"Thank you, yes. No, one question more. Can you tell me the exact time at which Miss Winnie visited the parlor last night? The young lady herself was very exact on that point."

"That is natural!" I replied, "for the great clock at the end of the corridor was striking twelve as she came back to the bedroom. I thought it never would stop."

"That tallies also with Miss Cynthia's testimony. She states that she saw Miss Winnie go to the safe a few minutes before twelve; that she, Miss Cynthia, lay still until the clock struck the quarter, and then examined the safe, finding your money gone.

"Inference (since Miss Winnie apparently noticed nothing out of the way when she looked in): if neither of these young ladies took it, the robbery must have been committed during that fifteen minutes."

"That seems hardly possible," I said, "since Cynthia, Winnie, and I were all awake during that time."

"It is possible, though not probable. Cynthia's bedroom door, opening into the parlor, was closed. Are you quite certain that you did not fall asleep before the quarter struck. Did you hear it?"

"No, I am not at all certain."

"Very good. Then if the thief were standing in the studio waiting for his opportunity, he might have slipped in during that time. Is there any way in which we can ascertain whether any one was in the studio between twelve and a quarter past?"

"I know of no way," I replied. "There was no one in the studio at ten o'clock when I looked in."

"Very good; the known quantities are being gathered in, the unknown ones defined; the problem becomes simpler. I think we will be able to solve it soon. Meantime, if any new developments appear, be so good as to report them to me." He rose and bowed stiffly in token of dismissal. I hurried to our rooms and found Adelaide and Winnie.

"Where is Milly?" I cried; "Mr. Mudge wants to see her next."

"Milly has gone to Madame Celeste's," Adelaide answered. "She wanted to pay a bill."

"But she had no business to leave the house until she had given her testimony," I exclaimed. "I wonder why Madame gave her permission."

"I don't think Milly asked it," Adelaide replied; "and I fancy Milly was not at all anxious to have this interview with the detective and merely caught at Madame Celeste as a way of escape. She is not often in such a twitter of promptness in settling her accounts; besides, now I think of it, all her money was taken. How could she pay Celeste?"

Winnie looked up from the table on which her elbows were resting, her head grasped firmly between her hands as though it ached. She took no part in the conversation until I remarked:

"Well, if Milly thinks to escape Mr. Mudge by running away to Madame Celeste's she is badly taken in, for he is going right over there."

"What?" Winnie almost shrieked. "Does he suspect that she has anything to do with this miserable business?"

"Madame Celeste? No, but he wants to find why Cynthia had her dress charged to Milly's account."

"O Tib, Tib, why did you ever mention that?" Winnie groaned; "you don't know what mischief you have made."

"How did you know it, anyway?" Adelaide asked. "This is the first I have heard of the matter."

"I did not know it," I replied. "Mr. Mudge was looking over the papers he took from Milly's drawer and he came across this bill for Cynthia's dark green cloth dress, charged up against Milly, and I--I just happened to say that was Cynthia's dress----"

"If you could only have just happened to hold your tongue," Winnie exclaimed, springing from her seat and pacing the floor. "Adelaide," she added, "won't you go to Mr. Mudge and keep him busy hearing your testimony until Milly has time to get away from Madame Celeste's. That woman is a match for a lawyer even, but if he happens to meet Milly there she will be frightened into anything. I knew there would be trouble when Mr. Mudge took that bill."

"Of course I will go, if you would like to have me do so," Adelaide replied, rising, "but really, Winnie, I can't say that I at all comprehend the situation."

Winnie gave each of us a look of despair. "I didn't intend you should," she said, "but since ignorance bungles in this way I will explain. Milly has very weakly been getting things for Cynthia and allowing them to be charged on her bills. I have remonstrated with her and she has promised to do so no more. I told her how wicked it would be to send these accounts in to her father as her own, and she has not done that. She has kept them separate, intending to settle them whenever Cynthia paid up."

"I don't see why Cynthia could not have taken her debts on her own shoulders instead of entangling Milly," Adelaide remarked.

"Simply because Cynthia has no credit. Madame Celeste would not trust her for a penny, while she would let Milly run up any amount. Well, either Cynthia has paid or Milly has obtained the money in some other way. One thing is certain, she has it and she has gone down to pay Madame Celeste; anxious, as you may well imagine, to get her feet out of the quicksand and not by any mischance to have that bill sent home to her father. Now, don't you see that if Mr. Mudge ascertains that Milly has a secret of this kind, that the next thing he will do will be to suspect that Milly stole the money in order to extricate herself from this trouble."

"Impossible," Adelaide exclaimed. "Milly has only to tell where the money came from."

"And I have asked her and she will not tell. It is all right, she assures me, but she can not or will not tell how."

"Silly goose! I will get it out of her," said Adelaide. "And meantime there is no need whatever that she should be even suspected. She did not do it--and suspicion might as well start out from the first on the right track. I will go at once to Mr. Mudge, and enlighten his benighted mind."

"What is your theory, Adelaide?" I cried, but not before the door had closed behind her.

"Don't stop her," Winnie pleaded. "Time is precious; Mr. Mudge may have tired waiting for Milly and have gone. No matter what her theory is, so long as it takes suspicion from Milly. I had great hopes that Cynthia would succeed in making him think I had done it."

"He did have you in his mind at one time," I said. "He said, 'If neither Miss Winnie nor Miss Cynthia took it, the robbery must have been committed during the fifteen minutes between their visits to the safe!'"

"He said that?" Winnie inquired, with interest.

"Yes, and Winnie, the thing is plain to me--I believe Cynthia took that money." Winnie shook her head.

"Now just listen to my reasoning. Milly has been insisting that Cynthia shall pay up. We know that Cynthia has received no money lately. She stole it and gave it to Milly, and made her promise not to tell who gave it to her. It's as plain as the nose on my face. And then," I continued triumphantly, warming to my conclusion, "she artfully throws the suspicions of the robbery on you, as a revenge for the straightforward talk you gave her. Haven't I ferretted it all out well? Isn't it the most likely way in the world that it could have happened? Are you not perfectly convinced?"

"It is the most likely story," Winnie replied, "and so very feasible does it seem that even I am almost convinced, although I know positively that it did not happen that way, even Cynthia must not be unjustly suspected."

"How do you know it?"

"Because Cynthia told the truth when she said that the money was stolen when she looked into the safe. It was gone when I looked in."

"Winifred! But you told Mr. Mudge that it was there."

"I told Mr. Mudge that I found _my_ money just as I left it. It was not touched at all, you know; but yours, Milly's, and a part of Adelaide's, all that was stolen, was already taken."

"But Mr. Mudge did not understand you so."

"That is his own fault."

"Did you want him to misunderstand the situation?"

"Apparently, Tib; but don't ask so many questions. Let him proceed on the assumption that the robbery was committed in that fifteen minutes. If any innocent person is apparently implicated, I will confess. Meantime, you are shocked to find that I am delaying the course of justice in order to keep suspicion from myself."

"A thousand times no; you could never act a lie unless it was to shield some one else. Was it to shield Milly, and how?"

"Tib, it breaks my heart--I can't tell you--I love her so--I love her--"

A great fear came over me; Milly had taken the money and Winnie knew it. But Milly had lost all her money, and yet that was a very transparent subterfuge. What more natural than that the thief would pretend to be an innocent sufferer and steal from herself? And Milly knew before she looked that there was nothing in her purse. I asked relentlessly, "Was Milly at the safe during the night at some time earlier than you and Cynthia?"

"Milly will not admit that she was," Winnie replied, her manner hardening as she realized that she had not quite disclosed her secret, and her determination to guard it returning with redoubled force.

"Then why do you suspect it?"

"I do not suspect it."

The fixed despair in her eyes added the words, "I know it," as plainly as if she had spoken them.

"Did you see Milly take the money?" I insisted. "Was that what wakened you? And is that the reason why you wish it to appear that the safe was intact at the time you examined it?"

Winnie covered her face with her hands and did not reply. I felt that I had divined the truth. A solemn silence fell upon us both for a few minutes, then Winnie straightened herself with the old resolute look in her face.

"Tib," she said, "I have told you nothing. You know nothing from your own personal observation. Whatever you may _think_ is purely guess-work, and you have no right to imagine evil against Milly. She is the sweetest and dearest girl in our set. She is innocent and unsuspicious, and so kind-hearted that she is easily led. She has gone wrong in some things, terribly wrong; but she is the youngest of us all and it is Cynthia's fault, and I believe she is trying desperately to get straight again. As for this terrible thing, you must not suspect her of it. It is your duty, on the contrary, to try to turn the attention of Mr. Mudge in some other direction."

As she spoke, Cynthia opened the door and Winnie relapsed into silence. I felt a strange, dizzy sensation, as if the foundations were being removed. The more I tried to puzzle out the affair the more bewildered I became. There was Cynthia, who believed that Winnie was the culprit, or at all events was striving to make Mr. Mudge believe so; and when I weighed the evidence the case was strongly against her. Here again was Winnie, who seemed to believe that it was Milly, and I knew that the evidence which could shake her faith in Milly must be overwhelming. I had made it seem entirely clear to myself that Cynthia had done it, and in a blind, unreasoning way, although Winnie's testimony had showed that this could not possibly be, the suspicion, once started, grew and strengthened. I watched her as she sat working out algebra problems with a disagreeable smile on her face--and I said to myself over and over again, "You did it, and the truth will come out at last."