Nancy's Mysterious Letter

by Carolyn Keene

  Nancy had just started her packing when she heard the doorbell ring. In a few seconds she became aware that the housekeeper was arguing with someone. Then Hannah Gruen climbed the stairs and poked her head into the doorway of Nancy’s room.

  “It’s that pest again,” she said with a sigh. “I told her to go away, because you were very busy, but she’s insistent and won’t budge until she has seen you.”

  Nancy smiled. “You mean Mrs. Skeets?”

  “Yes. What will I tell her?”

  “I guess I’d better talk to her,” Nancy said. “You may never get rid of her if I don’t find out what she wants.”

  Nancy walked down to the front hall where Mrs. Skeets was standing. The woman was well bundled up, but her stringy hair showed below her hat.

  “I knew you’d see me,” she crowed as Nancy appeared.

  “What can I do for you?” Nancy queried.

  “As I told you once before, I don’t want nothin’ except what’s mine,” Mrs. Skeets said.

  Nancy suspected the woman was going to ask for additional money and said quickly, “Don’t expect anything more from me.”

  “Now, young lady,” Mrs. Skeets retorted, shaking a finger at Nancy, “don’t get uppity with me or you may regret it. I came here on an errand of good will, I want you to know. But if you don’t show proper respect for your elders—and what young folks do these days, I ask you—I’ll go away and you’ll never learn why I came.”

  Nancy was amused by this tirade, but also curious to know what the errand of good will was.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Well, that’s good. Most o’ the girls today won’t listen to their elders. Nope, I’d say the chicks seem to think they can teach the old birds to fly.” Mrs. Skeets laughed loudly at her own joke. “As I’ve said more than once to Mrs. Brant next door, who has eight young uns, ‘Mrs. Brant, I said—’ ”

  Nancy interrupted. “Please tell me why you really came here. I am very busy upstairs.”

  Mrs. Skeets frowned in an annoyed way, then said, “Well, I came to tell you all the missin’ letters was mailed back to their owners.”

  Nancy was so surprised she stepped backward. The idea of such a thing happening after all this time left her speechless for the moment.

  “Ah-ha, I thought that would knock you overt” Mrs. Skeets exclaimed. “Now maybe you’ll listen to me.”

  Nancy realized that the letters stolen from the Drews had not been returned. She said, “How do you know all the letters were mailed back to the people?”

  “ ‘Cause I went around and asked everybody in the neighborhood. It all started this way. We got a new mail carrier. This mornin’ he came to our door and handed me three letters. The first one I looked at was the electric bill, which was away too high. We’re folks for early sleepin’, and I never ran no eight dollars’ worth of electric last month and the company is goin’ to hear from me, you can bet.”

  Nancy repressed a smile as Mrs. Skeets went on, “The next letter wasn’t a letter at all, but a postcard from an old neighbor of mine in New York, only she lives in Florida now.

  “She bought a house down there several years ago. Looked good then but it’s fallin’ apart, and ain’t worth half what she paid for it. But she hasn’t any money, so she lives in it, and she says what the rich people find in Florida she can’t—”

  “Oh, Mrs. Skeets, please,” Nancy cried in exasperation. “What has all this to do with your being here to see me?”

  “I’m comin’ to that,” Mrs. Skeets said. “Just give me time. As I was sayin’—where was I now? See, you made me forget!

  “Oh yes. The other letter, mind you, was from Joe’s sister. And I knew right well she wouldn’t write twice a week even if someone held her hand to guide the pen. And there was the ten dollars in the letter too, and she wouldn’t send me twenty dollars in one week any more’n she’d send me a million. So I got an idea and looked at the postmark. Sure enough, just as I suspected, it was stamped twice by the post office here!”

  “This will make Ira Nixon very happy,” Nancy remarked.

  The woman pulled ten dollars from her pooket. “I suppose I owe you an apology, but anyhow here’s your ten dollars.”

  “Thank you very much,” said Nancy. “I’m relieved the whole matter is straightened out.”

  She was glad Mrs. Skeets had not asked her whether the Drew mail had also been returned. It would only have led to another long speech.

  The sailor’s wife put her hand on the doorknob, but before turning it, she looked straight at Nancy and with a smirk said, “I guess you’ve had your fun.”

  “What do you mean?” Nancy demanded.

  Mrs. Skeets gave a raucous laugh. “Oh, I can see how two or three young girls in this day and age might think it funny to steal a poor old mail carrier’s letters and hide the whole lot of ’em from the rightful owners for a day or two. I’m not so blind I can’t see through a knothole.”

  Nancy was furious. “Mrs. Skeets, you have no right to insinuate such a thing. Neither I nor my friends would be guilty of such a low trick!

  And the post office wouldn’t think it was any joke. We’d be liable.”

  “Maybe so, maybe so,” said Mrs. Skeets. She opened the front door with a flourish and stepped onto the porch. “I can’t help havin’ my thoughts, though. But I won’t say anything. Don’t think I’m a gossip. Good-by!” She went down the front steps.

  By this time Hannah Gruen had joined Nancy. As the suspicious woman walked out of sight down the driveway, the housekeeper remarked:

  “Imagine having to live with such a person! I don’t blame Sailor Joe for taking long voyages to get away from her!”

  Nancy burst into laughter, then reminded Mrs. Gruen that the Drews’ letters had not been returned.

  “I suspect that the thief had planned to steal only our mail but didn’t have much time and so he took everything. He couldn’t guess there was money in Mrs. Skeets’s letter and he wasn’t interested in the contents of any others except ours.”

  Mrs. Gruen nodded. “This directly involves you in the case. Well, honey, you’d better get back to your packing.”

  Nancy had just finished when Mr. Drew returned. He laughed heartily at her story of Mrs. Skeets and then said he thought Nancy’s theories about the stolen letters were correct.

  “This seems to pinpoint the fact that the mail thief, who is probably Edgar Nixon, was after the letter to my client which had a large sum of money in it. Whether or not he knew about the message for Nancy Smith Drew is something still to be cleared up.”

  By eight o’clock the following morning Nancy was ready to leave the house. She had all the letters for Edgar Nixon in a large envelope of her father’s and went with them directly to the postal inspector, Mr. Wernick, who was already at work. He was delighted to hear that most of the mail taken from Ira Nixon had been returned.

  “But we have no lead to the guilty person,” he told her. “Even that shoe your little friend Tommy gave you must belong to someone else. Shoe prints of Edgar Nixon at Ira’s house don’t match.”

  “Too bad,” said Nancy.

  She told about the letters coming to Edgar Nixon and her suspicions regarding them. When she showed Mr. Wernick the two she had read, he stared in amazement.

  “This is very serious,” the postal inspector said. “I’ll run the rest through our X-ray machine and see if there’s money in them.”

  CHAPTER XIII

  Locked In

  “How long will it take to X-ray the letters?” Nancy asked the postal inspector.

  Mr. Wernick smiled at her. “You’re thinking you won’t have time to wait? You’d better. I have a hunch there are going to be some surprises in those letters and I’m sure you’ll want to know what they are. It won’t take long.”

  He summoned one of the technicians on duty and gave him the assignment. “We suspect there’s money inside each of these,” he said.

  The man was gone only a few minu
tes. He came back with the X rays as well as the letters. “I’d say there are bills in every envelope. Probably twenty-five dollars in each,” he reported.

  Nancy was elated and waited for the postal inspector to comment. He said, “I think your idea of a Lonely Hearts Club and money coming in installments is a good one. We’ll work on the case from this new angle. And, of course,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, “we’ll expect all the help we can get from you.”

  Nancy promised it and said she hoped that before the weekend was over she might have startling news for him. She did not divulge what it was and soon said good-by.

  “Oh, the evidence is closing in on Edgar Nixon,” she thought. “Now if I can only keep Nancy Smith Drew from marrying him, everything will be wonderful.”

  She picked up Bess and George, and as they rode toward Emerson, she told about the information she had received at the post office.

  The cousins were excited to hear this, but presently Bess said, “Between now and the time that you see Nancy Smith Drew at the play, let’s talk about something besides the mysteries. I’d hate to meet Dave with my mind full of clues and crooks.”

  George could not resist a gibe at her cousin. “That’s better than nothing.”

  Bess made a face and changed the subject. “There’s a quaint-looking tearoom ahead. Let’s stop there for lunch. It’s been a long time since breakfast.”

  The others agreed, but Nancy said they must not spend too much time. They ate quickly and two hours later the towers of Emerson College came into view. Nancy drove directly to the Omega Chi Epsilon House, where the girls’ dates were on hand to give them a warm welcome.

  Ned was tall, handsome, and athletic-looking, with wavy dark hair, a ready smile, and brown eyes.

  “I’m glad you made good time,” he said, “because I want you to tell us all about this mystery business.”

  Dave Evans was blond, green-eyed, and of rangy build. He gazed at Bess fondly. “You look stunning in that new suit,” he remarked. “I like that fur collar. What is it—squirrel?”

  George spoke up. “Yep. She shot it on the way up here.”

  Bess withered her cousin with a look. “As a matter of fact it’s mink.”

  “How’s the play coming?” Nancy asked Burt Eddleton, a short, blond, husky young man.

  He shook his head sadly. “Miss Drew hasn’t returned yet. I don’t know any more about coaching a Shakespearean play than I do about guiding a rocket to the moon. The whole thing’s going to be a complete flop.”

  Nancy was sorry to hear that the actress had not returned yet. She said she had hoped to see Miss Drew for a short time before the afternoon was over.

  A short time later Burt announced that he and Dave would have to leave for a rehearsal.

  “See you after the show,” Dave called as the two boys hurried off.

  That evening Ned escorted Nancy, Bess, and George to the college theater, which was attached to the large gymnasium. After the audience was seated, one of the students in the drama group stepped in front of the curtain and said he wished to make an announcement.

  “I know all of you are expecting to see a performance of a Shakespearean play. As you have read, the club engaged the services of Miss Smith Drew, a drama coach. Unfortunately she had a sudden errand out of town and has not returned.”

  Nancy’s heart sank. The heiress must have married Edgar Nixon!

  The announcer went on, “Late this afternoon, we fellows decided that it would be impossible to put on the play we had planned, so we have substituted a comedy. It is called the The Mix-up. We have been rehearsing this for some time, planning to present it in the spring. You won’t find it so polished as we had hoped, but we trust you’ll enjoy it.”

  The good-natured audience clapped enthusiastically. The announcer stepped into the wings and the curtain opened. The play was well named and the audience laughed uproariously. The star of the show proved to be Dave. He was so extremely funny, alternately playing a girl and her twin brother, that the audience broke into repeated applause.

  The Mix-up was such a success that Nancy temporarily forgot her mysteries. But she was soon to be reminded of them. As she was walking out of the auditorium, one of Ned’s friends spotted her. He called out gaily, “Hi, Nancy Drew!”

  At once an attractive young woman, walking just ahead of Nancy, turned around and stopped. She smiled at the girl.

  “You’re Nancy Drew?”

  When Nancy nodded, she went on, “For a moment I thought you might be another Nancy Drew whom I know. As a matter of fact, I thought I saw her here tonight but she left before I could speak to her.”

  Nancy was excited about this news. “What is this other Nancy Drew’s full name?”

  “Nancy Smith Drew.”

  “Did she ever work for your family?” Nancy queried.

  “Yes, she did. She was a governess for my brother and me for a few years. She left to become an actress.”

  Nancy looked at the young woman. “Are you, by any chance, Miss Wilson?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Nancy explained how she had telephoned to the Wilson home and left a message that if her mother ever heard from Nancy Smith Drew, she was to tell her that an inheritance awaited her in England.

  “Oh, how marvelous!” Miss Wilson exclaimed. “I’ve been away at school and my parents didn’t pass along the message.”

  “You said you thought Miss Drew was here tonight?” Nancy asked.

  “Yes. I’m sure I saw her in the back of the auditorium when I happened to turn around, just before the show started. I left my seat and tried to find her but couldn’t. She went out of the building.”

  People in the theater had started to crowd past the two girls and now a young man who had been with Miss Wilson came back. After introducing him to Nancy, she told him what they had been talking about.

  Nancy said, “Possibly this Nancy Smith Drew is still around. She must have come back for some reason—possibly to see the play. Miss Wilson, could you take a few minutes to help me find her, since you know Miss Drew?”

  “I’ll be glad to.” Miss Wilson turned to the young man, Frank Doolittle, whom Nancy had recognized as one of the star players on the Emerson football squad.

  Nancy now introduced Ned, then told him, “We’ll be right back. Meet you in front of the theater.”

  She and Miss Wilson dashed ahead of the others. Reaching the outside, Miss Wilson suddenly exclaimed, “There goes Miss Drew now!” She pointed to a side door of the gymnasium.

  The two girls ran like mad, opened the door, and dashed inside. Only a dim light was burning and they could not see very far ahead but realized that the corridor turned abruptly.

  “Miss Drew! Miss Drew!” Miss Wilson called. When no response came, Nancy tried her luck, but received no answer.

  She and Miss Wilson dashed to the end of the corridor, then turned the comer. They saw no one.

  “Wherever could she have been going?” Miss Wilson asked.

  Nancy could only guess. “Maybe Miss Drew left some clothes in a locker in one of the rooms. And she wanted to get them, now that she apparently has severed her connection with the Dramatic Club.”

  The two girls went through another door and this time found themselves at the foot of a fight of metal steps that spiraled both upward and downward. A single unshaded electric bulb illuminated the stairwell feebly.

  “Up or down?” Marian Wilson asked.

  “Let’s go down first,” Nancy answered. “Or, let’s save time. I’ll go down and you go up.”

  When Nancy reached the floor below she found herself in the furnace room. Sure there would be no lockers here, she turned and scurried up the steps. Miss Wilson was just coming down.

  “Nothing up there but a big, dark room and the stairs continue to the roof.”

  “Miss Drew must have used another exit,” Nancy speculated. “Well, I guess all we can do is leave.”

  At that moment the light went out.

>   “Oh dear!” her companion cried. “They’re turning out the lights and locking up!”

  The two girls dashed along the corridor, feeling the walls until they came to the outer door. Nancy tried to lift the long bar which opened it, but this would not budge.

  “We’re locked in!” she exclaimed, and began banging on the door with her fist and crying, “Let us out! We’re trapped!”

  There was not a sound from outside.

  “Whatever will we do?” Marian Wilson asked nervously.

  “Frankly I don’t know, but let me think a minute.” A few moments later Nancy said, “That dark room you saw—were there any windows in it?”

  “Yes, several.”

  “Maybe we can get out that way,” Nancy suggested.

  The girls groped their way along the corridor and up the spiral stairway. They opened the door to the dark room and made their way toward one of the windows. To their dismay, chicken wire was tacked over it and the window could not be opened. All the others had been protected the same way.

  “I wonder which side of the theater this is on,” Nancy speculated. “If we could only attract someone’s attention!”

  “But how?” Marian Wilson asked.

  “I guess we’ll have to break the glass and yell.”

  “But the chicken wire was put up there so the glass wouldn’t get broken,” Marian pointed out.

  Nancy said she realized this, but hoped that a hard blow would break the wire as well as the glass. She began to feel around the floor with her feet, hoping to locate some heavy object. Presently she found what felt like a cannon ball. She assumed it was a ball used for shot-put contests.

  There was enough light outside for the girls to see anyone going by. As Nancy picked up the metal ball, Marian Wilson exclaimed, “I just saw a car drive up! Nancy Smith Drew got into it!”

  Nancy rushed forward, hoping to break the glass and attract the young woman’s attention. But in a second the car was gone. A feeling of exasperation came over her. Suppose no one else came past whose attention she could attract!

  “Here come a couple of boys. Quick! Break the glass!” Marian cried out.