Race Against Time

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Race Against Time Page 1

by Carolyn Keene




  Contents

  1. Sinister Happenings

  2. Mystery Call

  3. Stolen Winner

  4. Strange Behavior

  5. The Surly Trainer

  6. A Crucial Test

  7. Silver Surprise

  8. Exciting News

  9. Hidden Names

  10. Another Fright

  11. A Painting Puzzle

  12. Roadside Clue

  13. Smoke Scare

  14. Ghostly Hecklers

  15. Spook Trap

  16. A Shimmer of Beauty

  17. Tina's Secret

  18. Suspect's Return

  19. Dusty Fur

  20. Star Bright!

  1. The Sinister Call

  "Nancy, are you really going to hunt for that missing racehorse?" Bess Marvin asked.

  Nancy's blue eyes twinkled as she and her two friends rode through the woods. "How can I, whenI haven't even been asked to help on the case?"

  "But I thought the River Heights Record asked you," George Fayne said. She was Bess's slim,

  tomboyish cousin.

  "Oh, that was just an editorial." A valuable thoroughbred had been stolen, and the local newspaper had advised the police to call in the famous sleuth, Nancy Drew. "A racing mystery might be fun," Nancy added, "but no one's consulted me."

  "Oh, oh! That reminds me," George exclaimed.

  But her words were cut short by a scream from Bess as her horse reared and whinnied in fright.

  A dark-colored cat had just darted across the bridle path, startling Bess's mount. The pretty blond girl, who was plump and rather timid, struggled to keep from falling out of her saddle.

  "Whoa!" she wailed, reining her horse to a halt. "Now we're in for bad luck!"

  "At least you didn't take a spill," George teased. "I'd call that pretty good luck!" Trim and athletic, she was proud of her boy's name and inclined to make fun of her cousin's nervousness.

  "That isn't a black cat that crossed our path, anyhow," Nancy remarked. "It's a tortoise-shell."

  The beautiful little creature, whose dark fur was streaked with brown and orange, paused to stare at them with its jewel-like topaz eyes before disappearing into the underbrush.

  "You're right," Bess said sheepishly. "Even so, it did give me an awful scare!"

  Nancy smiled and, to allow her blond friend time to catch her breath, turned to the other girl. "What were you reminded of just before that cat ran out in front of us, George?'

  "You said that no one had consulted you, Nancy, which made me remember that someone did leave a message for you." George groped in the back pocket of her jodhpurs and pulled out a folded paper. "Remember after we saddled up and you two were ready to start, I had to go back to your car to get my riding crop? Well, this was tucked under your.windshield wiper. I'm sorry that I forgot about it"

  Curious, Nancy took the paper that George handed her. It bore the name Nancy Drew scrawled in pencil. Opening the note, she read:

  IF THE RIVER HEIGHTS RECORD TRIES

  TO HIRE YOU, TELL THEM NO DEAL!

  YOU MIGHT GET HURT!

  Seeing the expression on her friend's face, Bess asked, "Is anything wrong, Nancy?"

  Instead of answering, Nancy showed the other two girls the message. Bess was shocked. George looked up angrily. "Is this creep serious, Nancy?"

  The girl sleuth shrugged. "It may be someone's idea of a joke. I'll give it to the police." Smiling quickly, she added, "Come on! If we're going to meet Ned's film club and see where they're planning to make their movie, we'd better not stay here talking."

  The three eighteen-year-old girls nudged their horses forward again. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and they were on their way to an old house known as the Grimsby Mansion, deep in Brookvale Forest. Nancy's friend Ned Nickerson had persuaded a local realty firm, which owned the house, to let his college film club use it as a setting for their amateur production. Nancy had agreed to play a role in the film.

  "Tell us about the movie, Nancy," Bess pleaded. "Is it really going to be a vampire drama?"

  "Well, its not really meant to send chills down anyone's spine," Nancy smiled. "Ned made up a tongue-in-cheek story, so to speak. Its sort of a spoof of scary horror films."

  "I'll bet it's a riot," George grinned. "Did he write the scenario himself?"

  Nancy nodded. "He had to. The club plans to enter the film in a contest. But the project got off to a late start, and they needed a script in a hurry in order to qualify. So Ned dashed one off."

  She added that another student, named Lenny Arthur, had also written a script, but the club had chosen Ned's.

  "It's too bad he didn't write a mystery," Bess said. "Then you could have played the detective!"

  Nancy, an attractive titian-haired girl, was the daughter of a prominent River Heights attorney, Carson Drew. Her keen mind and natural interest in people gave her a flair for solving mysteries. Sometimes she helped her father when he was called upon to handle puzzling law cases.

  "Actually, there's a small mystery connected with the mansion where the film will be shot," Nancy told her two friends.

  "Don't tell us it's haunted," said George with a mischievous glance at her cousin, "or Bess will be afraid to go near it!"

  Bess responded by making a face.

  "Don't worry," Nancy reassured her. "I'm sure no ghosts will pop out at us! The mystery is whether the house is really unoccupied. When Ned came out yesterday to look it over with the realtor, Mr. Ullman, they both got the impression that someone had been in it recently."

  "How come?" George asked. "Were there signs of a break-in?"

  "Not really. That's part of the mystery. The house was locked up as usual, and yet it looked as though a few things had been moved around inside and some of the dust covers dragged off the furniture."

  Bess gave a little shiver. "The place may not be haunted as you say, Nancy, but thiat sounds spooky enough to me!"

  As the girls rode on along the bridle path, the Grimsby Mansion came into view through the trees. There was no denying its sinister appearance despite the bright sunshine dappling the forest greenery all around it.

  A weatherbeaten, gray Victorian mansion, the three-storied house had gables and turrets and gingerbread trimming around the eaves. The realtor, Nancy confided to her friends, had told Ned that the house was over a hundred years old.

  "It looks it!" George commented.

  Several cars were parked in the broad, weedy courtyard area between the mansion proper and its stable and carriage house at the rear. Scattered about was a small group of people who were talking.

  "There's Ned!" Nancy exclaimed as a tall, athletic young man in jeans and a T-shirt waved to the trio. She smiled and waved back.

  An A-student at Emerson College, which was located in another state, Ned had decided to take a summer course in filmmaking at Westmoor University near River Heights. His enthusiasm for it had led him to form a film club with other summer students, and it was also Ned who had sparked their interest in the movie contest. The prize to be awarded by a photographic manufacturer would help to buy equipment for the club.

  "Who's that fascinating-looking man with Ned?" Bess whispered to Nancy.

  "I don't know. I've never seen him before."

  Though middle-aged, the man was youthful in appearance. His silver-blond hair contrasted with his tanned, bold-featured face. He was wearing a light cotton sport jacket, navy polo shirt, and slacks.

  "Hi, girls!" Ned greeted the trio as they reined in their mounts. "This is Mr. Tony Traynor, the famous cinematographer."

  Nancy was thrilled as Ned introduced the girls, one by one. "I loved your films, Morning Star and City of Dreams, Mr. Traynor," she said as they shook hands.

 
; He smiled back. "Thank you. The critics were kind, but neither film made much money, so I'm forced to spend my time shooting television commercials. May I say in turn, Miss Drew, that I admire your talent for solving mysteries."

  Nancy blushed.

  "Mr. Traynors been kind enough to give our club some pointers on making movies," Ned explained.

  While they were talking, the eight other young people belonging to the film club had gathered around to listen and be introduced to the new arrivals. Nancy had already met some of the members, including a girl student named Gwen Jethro and her boyfriend, Lenny Arthur. Lennys script had been the one to lose out to Ned's.

  "Have you learned your lines yet?" Gwen questioned Nancy. She sounded eager for a chance to criticize the Drew girl's performance.

  "Not yet," Nancy replied. "But I've played in some productions by the Footlighters, and I think I'm a fairly quick study."

  The Footlighters were a little theater group in River Heights. Gwen's lip curled scornfully.

  "Huh!" she sniffed. "You'll find performing in front of a camera a lot different from flattering your ego with that little hick group!"

  "As a matter of fact, the Footlighters are a remarkably fine group of players," Tony Traynor said quietly. "I've seen some of their shows."

  "Oh, really?" Gwen replied.

  Instead of being put out by Mr. Traynor's rebuke, Gwen Jethro seemed pleased to have caught his attention. She was carrying a round bull's-eye mirror, which was to be used in the group's amateur movie to show that a vampire casts no reflection.

  Feeling the noted director's eyes on her, Gwen whirled away airily, holding the mirror as if to study her own reflection while she practiced her range of dramatic poses. She pretended to be unaware that anyone was watching, but it was embarrassingly plain to everyone that she was showing off for Tony Traynor's benefit.

  "That girl makes me sick!" George muttered in disgust, hardly even bothering to speak under her breath as Gwen swept across the courtyard, paying scant attention to the fact that she was walking on the edge of a slope that ended in a dry, rocky creek bed. Gwen pirouetted, suddenly losing her balance!

  "Look out!" yelled a young man named Mike Jordan, who was acting as property man.

  He ran to help her, but he was too late. The mirror slipped from Gwen's hands and went rolling down the slope!

  "Oh, no!" Mike groaned in horror.

  Without even stopping to think, Nancy flicked the reins and nudged her mount, Black Prince. The beautiful horse bounded forward and, in two strides, went streaking down the slope. With perfect timing, Nancy swung out of the saddle and scooped up the round mirror in one hand before it could crash on the rocks.

  Cheers and applause went up from the onlookers.

  "Nice work, Nancy!" Ned cried, clapping.

  "That's one of the finest displays of natural horsemanship I've ever seen!" Traynor declared.

  "Thanks," Nancy said, handing the mirror to Mike and wishing everyone would stop making a fuss over the trivial incident. But she saw that the

  cinematographer was eyeing her thoughtfully.

  "You know, Miss Drew," he said. "I'm about to shoot a television commercial that calls for a girl in riding costume on a horse. Would you be interested in doing such an assignment?"

  Nancy was startled. "It's nice of you to ask," she said with a hesitant smile, "but I doubt that I could do a very professional job "

  "Let me worry about that," Traynor retorted. "I believe you could do a splendid job!"

  "Well, I'd like to think about it if I may," Nancy murmured.

  "Look at Gwen Jethro!" Bess whispered to her cousin. "She's green with envy!"

  "And it's all her doing," George said and giggled.

  Ned interrupted to suggest that they go through the house to see the various rooms in which the movie scenes could be staged. Then the club could begin its cleanup.

  "A lot of the furniture has been carted away over the years," he explained, "but there's more than enough for our needs."

  Taking out a key provided by the Ullman Realty Company, Ned unlocked the massive front door and led the way into the vestibule of the mansion. The real-estate firm had arranged for the utilities to be turned on, so there was adequate lighting even though the shutters had not yet been opened.

  A musty odor of dampness, dust, and wood rot pervaded the mansion, and the carpeting was threadbare, but Nancy could not help admiring the marvelously carved woodwork of the stairway and paneling. Ancient dust covers still draped most of the furniture that remained. Even so, she could see that some of the items had once been of fine quality.

  "Ooh, this place even smells like its full of ghosts!" Bess declared.

  "It could certainly do with a good airing if that's what you mean," George said with a grimace.

  Their voices echoed hollowly through the half-empty rooms. Some of the group found themselves tiptoeing, as if afraid to disturb the spirits of the old house. But the more adventurous, like George Fayne, plunged boldly ahead of the rest.

  "This place will be perfect for a vampire film!" Nancy congratulated Ned.

  "It's certainly full of atmosphere," Tony Traynor agreed, brushing aside a cobweb as they passed.

  Suddenly, a startled cry rang out from the dining room just ahead on their right.

  "That's George!" Nancy exclaimed. The others followed as she hurried to see what was wrong.

  "Look!" George said breathlessly, beckoning them closer and pointing to the mahogany table. Words had been crudely traced in the dust that covered its surface:

  INTRUDERS BEWARE!

  THE PENALTY FOR DISTURBING

  THIS OLD HOUSE IS DEATH!!

  2. Mystery Call

  There was a moment of shocked silence as the young people and their guests stared at the message in the dust on the old mahogany table. Then, everyone began to talk at once. Most of them

  thought it was a joke.

  "I bet somebody's having a good laugh at us right this minute!" said a girl named Denise.

  "Okay, who did it?" Mike Jordan chimed in, examining the faces clustered around the table.

  "Speak up!"

  His words brought a chorus of laughter. But there were others, Gwen Jethro and Lenny Arthur among them, who thought that the message might mean danger.

  "I think we ought to forget about this mansion," Gwen spoke up, looking around nervously at the rest of the group. "Let's try to find another big old house."

  "She's right," Lenny said. "Why ask for trouble?"

  But Ned pointed out, "There really is no other house around that's as suitable as this. And remember, time is short. I think this is a prank. It's just the sort of message someone would leave in a spooky old house."

  "What do you think, Nancy?" Bess asked.

  Nancy shook her head with her finger on her chin and a thoughtful look on her pretty face. "I believe we should be careful, but not allow ourselves to be frightened off."

  "Come on! Let's finish going through the rest of the house. And then I vote we start picking up the junk on the kitchen floor."

  "Good idea," George Fayne agreed. "Let's get busy!"

  Tony Traynor, however, clapped his hands for attention. "People, I'd like to stay and help, but I have an appointment in the city. Nancy, I'll let you know about that TV commercial as soon as possible. I'm sure you'll be marvelous and just what the sponsors are looking for. Good-bye, everyone! I'll try to look in again as you get on with your film!"

  Lenny and Gwen and another girl were still against the idea of staying in the mansion unless the warning message had been proved to be not serious. So they, too, left.

  Even though Nancy and her two friends were not members of the film club, they stayed and helped with the cleaning for about an hour. One of the first chores carried out by the group was to open the shutters and pry up some of the creaky windows to give the old house a thorough sunning and airing.

  At last, the three girls mounted their horses.

  "
Don't forget about the date we made for tonight," Ned called out to Nancy as she and her friends rode off.

  "I wont." she grinned. "See you later."

  It was already late afternoon when the girls arrived back at the stables, and they started for home immediately. When Nancy finally pulled into the Drews' long driveway, she jumped out of the car and hurried into the house.

  Hannah Gruen, the Drews' cheerful housekeeper, turned from a pan of curry sauce she was stirring to greet her. Hannah had been with Nancy and her father ever since Mrs. Drews death when Nancy was only three years old.

  "You had a phone call this afternoon, dear," Hannah reported. "It was some man. He said he needed your help in solving a mystery. But he didn't leave any name or number and just said he'd call back."

  Any hint of a mystery was always enough to start Nancy's imagination working. "It sounds interesting!" she exclaimed. "I wish I knew what it was all about, but I guess I'll just have to wait until he calls back."

  Then Nancy glanced at the kitchen clock. "I have to hurry and get ready, Hannah. Ned's taking me to dinner and a dance at Westmoor University!"

  Forty-five minutes later, she was ready and waiting when the college boy arrived. Ned gave an appreciative whistle, and Hannah said, "Oh, Nancy, you look so lovely in that dress! It goes beautifully with your hair!"

  Nancy smiled and thanked her.

  "Mm, something smells delicious!" Ned exclaimed as a mouth-watering odor wafted from the kitchen.

  Hannah's face showed her pleasure at his remark. "You know I'd love to have you two change your plans and eat dinner here."

  "That sounds tempting," Ned said, "and thank

  you, Mrs. Gruen, but I have a reservation for us at the Lobster House." He looked at his watch, then at Nancy. "We'd better get going!"

  Over a delicious meal of seafood, they chatted about Ned's film and how to achieve some of the effects he was hoping for. But when the waiter brought dessert, Ned asked, "Nancy, what do you really think of that message printed in the dust?''

  "I'm not quite sure. It was odd the way Gwen and Lenny acted so upset. It was almost as though they were trying to discourage the rest of the club.''

 

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