The Elusive Heiress

by Carolyn Keene

  “Where do you want us to start?” Grace asked. “And what exactly are we looking for?”

  Nancy controlled her disappointment firmly, straightening her shoulders. “If you and Mr. Westmorelin could search this room, Ned can take the kitchen and I’ll start in the bedrooms,” she instructed. “And I really don t know what we are looking for. Anything with a name on it or an address, anything that might give us a direction to start a new search.”

  “I’m not sure there is anything left to find,” Grace observed, as she touched an old magazine with the toe of her sandal and watched it disintegrate.

  “We have to try,” Nancy told them, picking up a lantern and heading toward the rear of the room. “Are the bedrooms this way?” she asked.

  “Right down that hall,” Mr. Westmorelin confirmed. “They only used the front two, though. One for them and one for the baby.”

  “Baby?” Nancy stopped. “You mean that they had a child?”

  “Sure did. A little girl,” Mr. Westmorelin replied. “Cute little tyke. Lena, Lana, something like that.”

  Nancy smiled. "So Mr. Winthrop has a grandchild somewhere,” she said. “I think he’d like to know that. I’ll call Hannah tonight and ask her to let him know. Maybe that will make him feel better since I haven’t had any other good news for him.”

  Maybe she will have heard from your father, too,” Grace suggested. “I know how anxious vou are to know where he is.”

  “That’s for sure,” Nancy agreed, her pleasant mood fading a little at the reminder of her father and his mysterious lack of communication.

  Nancy moved down the dark hall and opened the first door she came to. The paint in the room beyond it was peeling badly, but she could still make out the dancing elephants, giraffes, and kangaroos that someone had painted on the walls at crib height. The room had obviously been used as a nursery and was nearly empty of anything, so she spent little time searching it.

  The next room was more of a challenge. Tattered clothing still hung in the closet and when she opened a drawer, she smothered a scream as a mouse leaped out of a swirl of fabric, abandoning a nest of tiny babies.

  “Sorry about that, little ones,” she whispered, moving away from the drawer quickly so that the mother mouse could return.

  Nancy gingerly inspected the other dresser drawers, finding that most of them contained a few bits of clothing, but little else. Time-rotted bedding still covered the double bed, and shoes in long-forgotten styles lay on the floor of the closet, but there was nothing else of real interest to her.

  Nancy peered under the bed, but all she found was a well-nibbled old book and the remains of a sock. Wiping her grimy hands on her slacks, she stood up and stepped back from the bed, which smelled of mildew and age. Her foot caught in the uneven remains of what had probably been a very lovely rag rug and she scrambled wildly, trying to keep her balance.

  “Oh!” Nancy muttered as she fell heavily into the corner of the room.

  The floor and wall seemed to shift beneath her weight and when she recovered, Nancy glanced downward. The baseboard had pulled away and behind it she could see something that gleamed dully in the flickering light from the lantern.

  Well, well, what have we here? Nancy asked herself. She reached gingerly into the dim recess and eased a small metal box out into the room.

  The box was thickly topped with dirt, but the seal seemed tight and a tiny padlock secured the lid to the bottom. Nancy tugged at it without success.

  Getting up, Nancy carried it over to the dressing table, searching through the clutter that still lay there till she found an old, rusty hairpin. It took her only a few minutes to spring the small padlock.

  The lid refused to budge till Nancy had broken two fingernails, then it fell back with a squeal of protest. Inside was a leather-bound book marked clearly DIARY.

  “Find anything?” Ned asked from the doorway, startling Nancy so that she very nearly knocked the lantern over.

  “I don’t know for sure,” Nancy answered, “but this just may offer a clue.”

  15. Corral Trap

  Though Nancy was very eager to read the diary, she helped the others finish their search of the old ranch house. Not surprised when nothing further came to light, she was glad when they could leave the sad ruin. Nancy was anxious to examine the diary in the bright sunlight of the late afternoon.

  “What are the dates?” Mr. Westmorelin asked, peering over her shoulder as they both stood on the porch.

  “The last one is August 15, 1950,” Nancy answered.

  “That would have been just a day or so before they left,” Mr. Westmorelin told her happily.

  “Maybe that book will give you some of the answers that I couldn’t.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Nancy said, “and I sure do thank you for meeting us out here and helping with the search.”

  “If you can find Leroy and Lindy, that would be the best thanks you could give me,” Mr. Westmorelin replied.

  “I’m going to try,” Nancy promised him. “Well, then, I’ve got to run. I’m in charge of the downtown square dancing tonight and tomorrow night, and there are several things that have to be checked out.” He shook hands with Grace and Ned, then took Nancy’s hand. “If you have a few minutes tonight or tomorrow night, Miss Drew, why don’t you come downtown and fill me in on what you find out from the diary?” “I’ll do that,” Nancy agreed. “Ned and I might even do some square dancing, if you allow amateurs to take part.”

  “The street dancing is for everybody,” he assured her. “You’ll be more than welcome.”

  The trip back to Cheyenne passed quickly and, since it was already late afternoon, Ned drove by the Carletons to pick up Jennifer before they went to Grace’s house.

  The little girl came out to the car grinning widely and almost dancing with excitement. “Guess what!” she exclaimed as soon as she was inside.

  “You had a terrific time with your friends,” Nancy teased.

  “Better than that,” Jennifer giggled. “I’m going to be in the rodeo tomorrow.”

  “What?” Nancy, Ned, and Grace all gasped at the same time.

  “The Pony Club is going to do a drill before the rodeo starts,” Jennifer explained, her grin widening even more. “We practiced all afternoon. One of the girls had to drop out and they were going to have to cancel, but they said I could take her place and . . .” She stopped, out of breath. Then her expression changed. “You’ll be there to watch me, won’t you?”

  Nancy and Ned looked to Grace.

  “Oh, dear,” Grace said. “I’m afraid it’s too late to get good reserved seats, but I’ll call as soon as we get home. There are sure to be seats somewhere.”

  “Couldn’t we watch the pre-rodeo show from beside the chutes?” Nancy asked, remembering what she’d seen when they’d been across the arena in the grandstand. “We’d be much closer there and after we see Jennifer, it won’t matter where we sit.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Grace agreed. “We can wait for Jennifer at the arena gate, too, so she can join us to watch the rodeo. I’ll make all the arrangements.”

  As soon as she reached the house, Nancy retired to the patio area with a glass of lemonade and the diary. Aware of the need for speed, she started with the final entry and began reading the faded and sometimes almost illegible lines. It was both fascinating and disappointing.

  “Learning anything?” Ned asked, coming out to join her nearly an hour later.

  “A great deal about Clarinda and Leroy and the awful time they went through after the bank robbery, but not much about where they might have gone,” Nancy answered. “It is really kind of hard reading since she uses initials instead of names and she abbreviates a lot of words.” “Then it isn’t any help at all?” Ned sounded as disappointed as she felt.

  “Well, I haven’t read it all,” Nancy admitted, “and there are some references to P and D in the Los Angeles area. I’m just hoping that I can find out from Mr. Westmorelin who P and D mi
ght be.”

  “Then you think that they could be our next lead?”

  “They seem to be the only one I’ve found so far,” Nancy answered with a sigh. “I just hope that Dad is doing better on the case—wherever he is.”

  “Are you still planning to call Hannah tonight?” Ned asked.

  Nancy nodded. “I want her to get word to Mr. Winthrop about his granddaughter and I want to ask her if she’s heard from Dad.” She looked up into Ned’s warm brown eyes. “I’m really worried about him, Ned,” she admitted. “It just isn’t like him to drop out of sight without at least letting me know what is going on.”

  Ned looked at her sympathetically. “Can the rest of the diary wait till after dinner?” he asked. “Grace sent me out to tell you that she’s nearly ready to put it on the table. You can call home about your dad once you’ve eaten.”

  “Oh, my goodness,” Nancy gasped guiltily. “Is it really that late? I meant to help her fix dinner. I just got so busy with the diary . . .” “Lucky for you that Jennifer and I are pretty handy in the kitchen,” Ned teased, offering her a hand to help her up from the low chaise longue. “Otherwise you might not get any dinner at all.”

  They went inside, laughing easily together. Once dinner was eaten and the dishes were done, Nancy excused herself and placed her call to Hannah, hope making her fingers shake as she dialed the familiar numbers.

  The conversation was not a very long one and when she hung up, it was with a sigh of frustration.

  It had been good to talk to Hannah, but Nancy wasn’t at all reassured by what the kindly housekeeper had told her. The brief note from Carson Drew that Hannah had read to Nancy had given the young sleuth no more clues than her own short conversation with him had provided. And neither the note nor Hannah had given her any idea where her father had gone when he left the Chain Creek Lodge.

  Without wasting another moment, she placed a call to Chief McGinnis and after explaining her desire to contact Canadian authorities, said, “It seems to me that a request from you might have more impact than from me.”

  “Don’t worry, Nancy. I’ll see to it that the police up there check out that lodge.”

  “Thanks, Chief—and you will let me know if you find out something.”

  “You’ll be the first, I assure you.”

  The itch of worry stayed with her through the night and haunted her the next morning as she helped Jennifer get ready for her appearance in the pre-rodeo show. Still, she did her best to hide her feelings from the excited child and she happily cheered her on from the sidelines once the Pony Club entered the arena.

  It was a simple drill, but the sixteen riders were very impressive as they advanced in single-file columns of twos and fours. They executed circles to the right and left and did two well-timed crossovers, ending with a fast serpentine ride to the exit gate.

  “Miss Drew?” The child’s voice drew Nancy’s attention away from the arena where the drill team was just exiting to much clapping and cheering. She turned to see a young boy standing behind her.

  “Yes?” she responded.

  “You are Nancy Drew, aren’t you?” the boy asked.

  Nancy nodded, mystified.

  “A man said to give this to you.” He handed her a small piece of paper, then turned and melted into the crowd that was moving up into the bleacher seats behind her.

  Nancy started to call after him, then turned her attention to the paper. Her heart pounded with excitement when she recognized it as one of her father’s business cards. Her hands trembled as she saw the scribbled, unsigned message on the other side.

  COME TO THE BULL CORRAL AT ONCE.

  ALONE.

  Nancy hesitated, glancing back to where Ned had moved along the fence to a spot near the gate. The pre-rodeo show was over and Jennifer would soon be coming to join them.

  She could see that Grace was already climbing up in the bleachers to hold their seats for them and Ned would have to remain where he was to wait for Jennifer. That left Nancy alone to respond to the summons.

  The young sleuth plunged into the crowd, well aware that it was possible she was being lured into some kind of trap. Still, she reasoned, the stock area was a busy place during the rodeo, so she shouldn’t be in any real danger. Besides, there was always a chance that the card had been sent by her father. If he was in some kind of trouble and needed her . . .

  I have to go, she told herself firmly. I have to find out who sent this.

  When she reached them, the pens and corrals seemed a confusing maze and Nancy hesitated before entering the busy area. Then she saw him! The dark-haired man with the mustache was sitting on the fence on the far side of an empty pen.

  All else forgotten, Nancy went through the open gate and started across the pen toward him, sure that he was the one who had sent the card to her. This time she was determined that he wasn’t going to get away from her!

  “Look out!” The shout came from behind her just as she reached the middle of the corral and when Nancy turned her head, her heart stopped. A huge gray-brown shape of a Brahma bull was thundering her way, horns lowered in deadly attack.

  16. Kidnapper!

  Run, Nancy Drew, run!” the man with the mustache called in a taunting voice.

  For a moment, she almost took his advice, but the bull was too close and the fence too far ahead. She knew she had no hope of outrunning him, for she’d seen how fast the bulls could move in the arena.

  Nancy took one step, then remembered the rodeo clowns she’d seen during the bull-riding. It was a gamble, but as the bull shook the earth, she knew it was her only hope.

  Taking a deep breath, Nancy ran two steps, then dropped to the ground and rolled toward the side fence as fast as she could. The surprisingly small hooves pounded by, filling her nostrils with dust, and the cruel horns raked the air where she’d been standing a moment earlier. Choking with fear and dirt, Nancy rolled under the fence to safety.

  Other hoofbeats shook the earth as she struggled to sit up. When she looked around, she saw two riders, one in pursuit of the big Brahma, the other dismounting on the far side of the fence.

  “Are you all right, miss?” the cowboy asked as he offered her a hand and helped her up.

  Nancy took a deep breath and cautiously shook herself. Everything seemed to be in working order, she decided. “I think so,” she replied, beginning to brush the dust and dirt from her Levis and shirt.

  “You shouldn’t have been in that pen,” the cowboy admonished.

  Nancy opened her mouth to tell him about the note she’d received, then looked toward where the man with the mustache had been waiting. As she expected, he’d vanished.

  Before she could say anything, the other rider came galloping back and began yelling at the cowboy she’d been talking to.

  “How did that bull get loose, Slim?” he demanded. “What was he doing back here?”

  “As far as I know, he was driven into the chutes with the others, Les,” Slim answered when the older man paused for breath. “I didn’t even know he was loose till somebody yelled.” “What about the rest of the bulls?”

  The younger cowboy shrugged. “The chute gate was shut and the rest of them are on the far side of it.”

  “You mean they just missed shutting that bull in?” Les didn’t sound as though he believed that.

  “He wasn’t standing around outside the gate when we took them over,” Slim insisted. “He’s a little big to be overlooked.”

  There was a long moment of silence as the two men looked at each other, then Slim turned to Nancy. “That was fast thinking on your part, miss,” he said. “If you’d tried to outrun Old 79, he would have got you for sure. I’ve seen him hook a cowboy off the top of the fence more than once.”

  Nancy shuddered, then forced a rather weak smile. “I remembered what the rodeo clowns did,” she told them.

  “You’re a very lucky young lady,” Slim stated.

  “Now, would you like a ride to wherever you were going?” H
e remounted, then pulled his foot out of the stirrup and offered her a hand.

  “I think I’ll just go back to the bleachers,” Nancy said as she swung up behind him on the horse. “The person I came out here to see seems to have gone.”

  “You were meeting someone out here?” There was doubt in Slim’s voice.

  Nancy took the card from her pocket and offered it to him. He read it, then handed it back, stopping his horse behind the bleachers. “Do you think someone turned that bull loose on purpose?” he asked as she slipped off the horse.

  Nancy thought of the bouncing runaway stagecoach and nodded.

  “Do you know who it was?” he inquired.

  “Not his name,” she had to answer, and then her anger surfaced. “But I’m sure going to find out.” She smiled with genuine resolve. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Stay out of trouble,” he called after her as Nancy made her way toward the bleachers where she suspected that three worried faces were watching for her.

  By the time the rodeo ended, Nancy’s spirits were totally revived and her determination had hardened into resolve. “Tomorrow we’re going to try to trap one of those men,” she announced after relating her close call.

  “How are we going to do that?” Ned asked. “By making ourselves very visible all day. I really think they’ve been following us all the time, so maybe we can set up a trap with Sergeant Hill. What do you think, Grace? Will he help us?”

  “I’ll call him in the morning and see what he says,” Grace offered. “But I really don’t like the idea of you or Jennifer being bait in a trap, Nancy.”

  Nancy sighed. “I’m not thrilled at the idea either, but it’s better than what nearly happened to me today.”

  “What about tonight?” Ned asked. “Do you have any plans?”

  Tonight I'd like to go downtown and ask Mr. Westmorelin about P and D from the diary. Do you feel like some square dancing, Ned?”