III
A Queer Girl
“Oh, Dad, you don’t know what a time I’ve had!” Nancy Drew emitted a tired sigh as she emerged from the kitchen unfastening her apron. “This morning the agency sent me an Irish woman, but she was even worse than the one that came yesterday. She was the most unreasonable housekeeper I ever interviewed.”
“Poor little girl,” Mr. Drew sympathized. “I can’t let you do the work yourself.”
“Well, I think it will be easier on me than to try to break in a new girl. After the Irish woman left I called another agency and they sent me a Scotch lassie. She looked promising, but I found she hadn’t had a particle of experience and knew little about cooking. I’m completely discouraged.”
“I don’t wonder, and with Judge Graham coming Saturday night.”
“I’ll find someone before that time if I have to coax her away from my best friend,” Nancy declared resolutely. “There’s one more agency that I haven’t tried.”
As soon as her father had finished luncheon and had left for his office, Nancy Drew again went to the telephone and was gratified when the employment agency promised to send out a girl at once. She was washing dishes when she heard a sharp knock on the front door. Drying her hands, she rushed into the hall to answer the summons.
As she swung open the massive oak door she beheld a tall, wiry, dark-complexioned girl who obviously was the one sent out from the agency. She had dark piercing eyes and stared at Nancy almost impudently.
Nancy resisted an impulse to shut the door in her face. She did not like the girl’s sly look. On the other hand, she thought that it might not be fair to judge by appearances alone. Accordingly, she smiled pleasantly and invited the girl into the living room.
The stranger seated herself on the davenport, and to Nancy’s amazement proceeded to look the house over most critically, darting quick little glances from one room to another.
“She’s prying,” Nancy thought. Aloud she said: “What is your name?”
“Mary Mason.”
“Can you furnish references?”
The girl made no response, but from a dirty pocketbook brought out an envelope and handed it to Nancy. The envelope contained several references and Nancy glanced quickly over them. To her surprise, the girl came highly recommended from her former employers, and it appeared that she had held responsible positions. Nancy had been on the verge of dismissing the girl, but in the face of such excellent references she hesitated. She was not favorably impressed with Mary Mason, for the girl had a harsh face and a bold manner, but she knew that in all probability it would be impossible to find another girl before Saturday. She was left no choice in the matter.
“You appear quite young to take complete charge of the household,” Nancy began doubtfully. “Do you feel sure you could manage the work? Of course I will direct you until you learn the routine.”
Mary Mason tossed her head contemptuously.
“I always work without direction.”
“Indeed?”
Nancy was still more unfavorably impressed and decided to ask the girl a few personal questions.
“Where is your home?”
“My home?” the girl looked startled, and then said quickly: “I haven’t any real home. I’m an orphan.”
“Oh,” Nancy murmured, but for some reason which she could not understand she found it impossible to feel especially sympathetic. It even occurred to her that Mary Mason had deliberately told a falsehood, but she tried to force this suspicion from her mind. Probably it was only the girl’s queer manner. “Your age?” she inquired.
“Eighteen.”
Again Nancy was surprised, for she had made up her mind that Mary Mason was at least two years older than that. She next asked a few questions concerning the work which the girl had done in the past and was better pleased with her answers. It was evident that she could at least cook and keep house. Nancy decided that she would put up with her until after Judge Graham’s visit. Perhaps she would adapt herself after she had been in the Drew household for a number of days.
“I will try you for a week,” Nancy told her. “When can you come?”
“This afternoon if you want me. What salary can I expect?”
“Oh, yes, I forgot to mention that. I pay very well indeed, but in return I expect faithful service. I will start you at fifteen dollars a week with room and board. And of course you may have one day a week off.”
Nancy Drew had expected that Mary Mason would express satisfaction at this arrangement, for the pay was much higher than the average in River Heights. Instead, the girl scowled darkly.
“Surely that is enough,” Nancy said a trifle impatiently.
“Oh, I suppose it’ll have to do; but it’s not as much as I should have.”
“I noticed in your references that you had been receiving only twelve dollars a week.”
Mary Mason looked confused as though she had been trapped.
“Well, fifteen will do I guess.”
“Then, if you are satisfied with the wage I will tell you something of the work. I am sure you will not find it particularly difficult; but as I stated, I am rather exacting about details. You see, because of my father’s position it is necessary for us to do a great deal of entertaining.”
“I’ll have no trouble,” the girl returned indifferently.
“Then I guess there is nothing more I need tell you until later. I will have your room ready for you when you return this afternoon with your things.”
Mary Mason arose to depart. She sauntered across the floor, casting a last appraising glance about the room. Nancy escorted her to the door and as she opened it recalled that she had neglected to mention her own name.
“I am Nancy Drew,” she said pleasantly.
Mary Mason’s indifferent attitude vanished as if by magic.
“Nancy Drew?” she repeated tensely.
“Why, yes. You’ve heard of me perhaps?”
The girl ignored the question; in fact, she seemed not to have heard it. As Nancy stared at her in surprise she saw that the color had drained from her face, leaving it white and frightened.
“Who are you?” the girl demanded harshly. “You aren’t the daughter of—”
“Carson Drew,” Nancy finished. “You’ve probably heard of him.”
“Your father is a lawyer?”
“Yes. He specializes in criminal and mystery cases.”
The announcement had a very peculiar effect upon Mary Mason. She took a step backward and her hand gripped the door knob. Her eyes dilated with something that looked like fear.
“I can’t take the position, Miss Drew,” she said a trifle shakily.
“You can’t take it? Why not, may I ask?”
“I—I didn’t know your father was a lawyer.”
“What difference can that make?” Nancy asked bluntly.
“I’ll not work in such a place! I wouldn’t think of it!”
“My father will be very kind to you. You need have no fear on that score. I don’t see why you should be afraid.”
“Oh, I’m not afraid,” Mary returned hastily. “It’s just that I might get into trouble working at a place where the man of the house is always mixed up in queer cases. You’ll have to find another girl.”
“But it’s so late, and I’ve had such a time! Judge Graham is coming this week and—”
“I tell you I won’t stay,” the girl broke in, becoming more excited.
“Even if I offer you eighteen instead of fifteen dollars a week? That’s an outrageous amount!”
“I won’t stay here under any condition. Let me out!”
Nancy Drew reluctantly stepped aside, and Mary Mason rushed out the door, fairly running across the porch in her haste to reach the street. Nancy, a puzzled expression on her face, stood in the doorway and watched her until she had rounded a corner.
“Can you beat that!” she exclaimed, lapsing into slang. “If she isn’t the queerest girl I ever met! And to think I’ve wasted nearly an hour in talking to her!”