The Clue in the Old Stagecoach

by Carolyn Keene

  “Here come the police,” Bess spoke up.

  Four officers alighted from a squad car and hurried toward the crowd that had gathered at the site of the explosion. Nancy and her friends followed the policemen. But the officers announced that everyone who could not give them any clue as to who had caused the explosion was to leave.

  “I guess that includes us,” said George.

  “Maybe not,” said Nancy. “Our clue about Hillary and the hijackers is a pretty slim one, but I think we should tell the police my suspicions.”

  She waited until everyone else had gone, then told the officers who she was and what was in her mind.

  “Thank you, Miss Drew,” one of them said. “I’ll report this to the chief. I heard about the stagecoach hijacking. You may have a good clue this time too.”

  Nancy nodded and the three girls left. Once more they climbed into Nancy’s convertible and headed for Mrs. Strook’s home. They found the elderly woman in a highly nervous state over the explosion. Nancy tried to reassure her, saying everything was all right now.

  “But it was most frightening,” said Mrs. Strook. “And come, I want to show you what happened.”

  She led them into her dining room where there were several triangular shelves in a corner. On some stood prized pieces of antique glass and porcelain. But many others had crashed to the floor and broken into hundreds of pieces.

  “Some of these were priceless,” said Mrs. Strook. “They have been in my family for several generations.”

  The girls expressed their sympathy and George added practically, “I’m glad it wasn’t you, Mrs. Strook, who fell and was injured.”

  Nancy smiled and said, “I have a nice surprise to tell you about. Suppose I make some hot tea and we’ll sit down and talk things over.” While Nancy fixed the tea, the other girls swept up the broken pieces of porcelain.

  After the elderly woman had had a cup of tea and some homemade cookies, she declared she felt calmer and wanted to know what Nancy had to tell her.

  “I hope it’s a clue to my great-uncle’s stagecoach,” she said wistfully.

  “Yes, it is,” Nancy replied. From her purse she took out one of the strange notes found under the floor at the Zucker farm and handed it to Mrs. Strook. “Is that Mr. Langstreet’s handwriting?” she asked.

  “Why, I believe it is,” the woman answered. “I can easily prove it. I have been doing some searching here and came across a letter which Great-uncle Abner wrote to my grandmother not long before he disappeared. I’ll get it.”

  Nancy had not shown Mrs. Strook the reverse side of the note with its morbid words. The young sleuth decided to wait until later before discussing this.

  When Mrs. Strook returned from the second floor, she was holding a small letter written in a cramped hand and now very faded. Quickly the two signatures were compared.

  “There’s no question the same person made both of these,” Nancy cried excitedly. She noted, however, that the one she had brought was very shaky compared to the other. When writing the “burial” notes Mr. Langstreet had no doubt been under a great emotional strain.

  “Nancy,” said Mrs. Strook, “tell me again where you found the notes.”

  The young detective brought out all thirty notes and turned over several of them. When the elderly woman read the messages, she gave an involuntary shudder.

  “What do you think they mean?” she asked.

  Nancy explained her theory about the old stagecoach being lovingly taken apart, the sections put into containers to preserve them, and with great ceremony buried box by box.

  “I think it may have been right on the farm where he was living,” Nancy explained. “But if so, there’s one angle to it which worries me. The Zuckers can claim the coach and also anything valuable found with it.”

  Mrs. Strook was silent a few moments, then she said bravely, “We’ll have to take that chance, Nancy. Perhaps it’s just intuition, but I have a strong feeling that the clue my great-uncle mentioned has no connection with the Zucker property.”

  “But suppose the stagecoach is on somebody else’s property?” George remarked. “Then the person who owns that place can claim it, can’t he?”

  “I suppose so,” said Mrs. Strook. “Oh dear, what do you think we’d better do?”

  “I have another idea,” said Nancy. “Where else did any member of your family own property in this area? The old stagecoach may be there.”

  Mrs. Strook went to a desk and brought out a large old-fashioned map. It revealed that Abner Langstreet’s father had owned a tremendous amount of land in the vicinity of Francisville. He had divided it into parcels, giving one to each of his sons and daughters.

  “And he had eleven children!” said Mrs. Strook.

  She went on to explain that three of the sections were still owned by members of the family, but the other eight had been sold.

  Nancy, seeing that Mrs. Strook was becoming downhearted, said with a smile, “Let’s not worry about that just now. I believe we should keep on trying to solve the mystery. Don’t you agree, Mrs. Strook?”

  “Indeed I do!” the woman said with spirit. “And I do hope it will be soon. I can hardly sleep nights thinking about it.”

  On the way back to Camp Merriweather, Nancy was unusually silent and serious. Bess and George chatted but Nancy did not offer a word of conversation. She was mentally pursuing several new ideas, but always coming to a dead end.

  When the three girls reached their rooms, Bess closed the door between them. Nancy was so intent with her thoughts that she did not notice.

  “George,” Bess said in a low voice, “Nancy’s in the doldrums. We must get her out of them.”

  “I agree, but how?”

  “Listen,” said Bess, and with a giggle whispered something into George’s ear.

  Her cousin’s face broke into a broad grin. “Swell!” she said. “We’ll do it!”

  CHAPTER XII

  Shadowing

  IN HER own room, Nancy almost automatically took a shower and dressed for dinner. There was to be dancing that evening in the garden on a platform built at one side. She decided to wear a summer cotton of yellow and white and rather tailored in design. She put on white slippers with medium-height heels.

  When she was ready, the young detective lay down on the bed while waiting for Bess and George to open the door between their rooms. Nancy mulled over the mystery from every angle.

  “I hate to admit it, but it has me stymied at the moment,” she told herself.

  Just then someone knocked on her door. Raising herself up and swinging her feet to the floor, Nancy called out, “Come in!”

  The hall door swung wide. Nancy’s eyes popped in surprise, then she burst into laughter.

  In walked Bess and George, rigged out to look like Audrey and Ross Monteith. Bess as Audrey had her hair pulled high and tight on top of her head with a mop of curls at the crown. She wore an extremely tight-fitting sports dress of George’s. Her cheeks and lips were very artificially red and her fingernails looked as if they had been dipped in garnet paint. She swaggered in on her extremely high-heeled shoes.

  George’s outfit was even funnier. She wore baggy slacks, which belonged to Bess, a white shirt, and a very loud sports jacket borrowed from Jack Smith. She swung a cane and kept blinking her eyes at nothing, exactly the way Ross Monteith did when he was assuming an affected pose.

  “Beg pawdon, Nancy,” said “Mr. Monteith,” “but I’d be jolly pleased if you would tell me your plans for the evening.”

  “Oh, yes,” added “Mrs. Monteith,” “Rossy and I don’t like secrets. We’d prefer being with you wherever you go.”

  Nancy was giggling merrily. She got up from the bed and gave the door a slight push to close it. Then she sat down again.

  “Oh, Audrey,” said “Ross,” opening a little box in which Nancy kept her costume jewelry, “heah are some perfectly stunning earrings. I’m sure Nancy would be glad to lend them to you in place of the ones you l
ost in the woods.” George spun the cane in a circle.

  “Audrey” gave a sinister chuckle. “And maybe —just maybe—I shan’t return them,” Bess said. She took the earrings out of the box.

  At that very moment Nancy’s eyes traveled toward the door to the hall. She thought she had heard a sound outside. Eavesdroppers?

  Nancy tiptoed across the room and yanked the door open. Ross and Audrey Monteith stood there! Nancy was not sure whether their look of surprise had been caused by her opening the door so suddenly or because they had been caught eavesdropping. Their look of amazement lasted only a couple of seconds, however.

  Then Audrey bubbled, “We came to ask—” Suddenly she looked at Bess and George. “For Pete’s sake, what—”

  None of the three girls explained the little skit. If the Monteiths had heard themselves being ridiculed, Nancy and her friends hoped it would be a good lesson to them. If they had not, then there was no point in telling them.

  When the callers realized they were not to be told what was going on, Ross Monteith changed the subject. “We came to ask you to help us get up a hayride. I think it would be a lot of fun, don’t you? Audrey and I thought the five of us might take tomorrow off and drive around the countryside looking for a farmer who has horses and an old-fashioned hayrack.”

  “It sounds like a lot of fun,” Nancy remarked. “But I couldn’t possibly help you make any arrangements.”

  “You have a previous engagement?” Ross asked quickly.

  The young sleuth was sure that the man was angling for information about her plans. She decided to give him none, and hoped that neither Bess nor George would speak up.

  “I have so many things to do,” Nancy said, “I don’t know which ones to do first. With tennis and swimming and horseback riding here—” She did not finish the sentence and for a few seconds there was silence in the room.

  George decided this was an opportune time to get rid of the visitors. She looked at her wrist watch. “My goodness, Bess, we’d better jump out of this gear in a hurry and get ready for dinner or we’ll be late.”

  “Yes,” Bess agreed. She giggled. “That wouldn’t do at all because I’m starved.”

  As George opened the door between the two rooms, Audrey and Ross Monteith started to sit down. This was not to Nancy’s liking!

  Quickly she said, “Sorry I can’t talk to you any longer, but I must help Bess and George.”

  “Oh,” Audrey persisted, “they can help themselves. I wanted to ask you a few questions about your plans for—”

  Nancy looked directly at Audrey Monteith. “I really must ask you to leave,” she said firmly. She walked to the door. When they still did not come, she went into the hall. The Monteiths realized their dismissal was complete and finally followed her. As soon as they were outside, Nancy stepped back in and bolted the door.

  “Such pests!” she thought, and went into the girls’ room.

  Her friends were peeling off their costumes, but thinking that the Monteiths might be listening outside, made no comment regarding the couple.

  “I brought up a letter for you, Nancy,” said George. “It’s on the bureau.”

  Nancy picked it up. “Ned Nickerson!” she told herself. “Good!” Ned, an Emerson College student, had been dating Nancy for many months and had helped her solve several mysteries.

  Nancy was delighted with the contents of the letter. Ned had written that he and possibly Burt, who dated George, and Dave, a special friend of Bess’s, would come to Camp Merriweather for a couple of days at the beginning of the next week.

  “That’s just a few days from now!” Nancy thought.

  After Bess and George had removed their “Monteith” make-up and were putting on sports-type evening dresses, Nancy peeked into the hall. Their unwelcome callers had disappeared. Coming back, she told the girls what Ned had written.

  Instantly Bess, blushing a little, said, “Yum, that’s super news.” And George added, “It sure is. But, Nancy, what are you going to do about Rick?”

  Nancy pretended to look worried, then said, “Some situations just solve themselves.”

  Before the girls left the room, George asked, “Nancy, what do you think the Monteiths are up to?”

  The girl detective admitted that she was completely puzzled, except that the couple seemed to want to know where she, Bess, and George would be at all times.

  “And that gives me an idea,” Nancy said. “Why don’t we turn the tables and shadow those two for a change?”

  “Hypers!” said George. “Why didn’t we think of that before? It’s a swell idea.”

  It was decided that as soon as they met Rick, Jack, and Hobe, they would take the boys into their confidence and ask them to do a little spying. Among the three couples they were to keep the Monteiths in sight at all times.

  Rick and the other boys were delighted with the plan and Rick remarked, “We thought it was high time you let us know where you’ve been running off to.”

  After dinner, while the three couples were talking in the lobby, the Monteiths walked up to them. In their conversation, Nancy and her friends tried to make it appear as if they could hardly wait for the orchestra to start playing and that they would be the last ones to leave the garden when the music stopped. Nancy wondered if it were her imagination or did Ross and Audrey seem to heave a sigh of satisfaction at hearing this?

  At intervals during the evening the three couples met and exchanged information. Audrey and Ross were being elusive, darting in and out of the hotel, among the dancers, and even into the woods beyond. It was noticeable that they danced with no one else and even chatted very little with other people.

  “I’m sure they’re planning something,” George remarked with determination.

  “Yes, we mustn’t lose them,” Nancy replied.

  A few minutes later as she and Rick were dancing near a path that led from the garden directly to the parking lot, they saw Ross and Audrey suddenly leave the dance floor and disappear. A moment later they emerged onto the path leading to the parking lot.

  “There they go!” Nancy told her partner, and together they hurried up the path after the couple.

  “I’ll go down to the main road and watch which way they turn, while you get your car,” Rick offered.

  Within a minute Nancy had joined him at the entrance. He jumped in, pointing to the right. “That’s their car down there. They sure left in a hurry.”

  Nancy put up the top of the convertible to make the automobile less conspicuous, then sped after them. The Monteiths headed directly for the road near which the explosion had taken place that afternoon. They pulled the car to the side of the road and turned off the lights.

  As Nancy came closer, Rick said, “There they go across that field.”

  “They must be heading for the spot where the cave-in was,” Nancy remarked.

  She found a place a short distance in back of the Monteiths’ car where she could park the convertible without its being seen by them should they return. Then she and Rick jumped out and started to follow the couple. Each carried a flashlight but were afraid to turn them on for fear of being discovered. There was moonlight, although it was obscured at times by clouds.

  About halfway to the cave-in, Nancy suddenly stopped and whispered, “Someone’s behind us.”

  “And someone’s at that cave-in to meet the Monteiths!” said Rick.

  The couple wondered if they would be trapped. Rick, wishing to protect Nancy from any harm, felt they should hurry away. But the young sleuth was determined to find out what was going on.

  “It’s okay with me,” said Rick. “You keep looking ahead and I’ll try to spot the person in back of us.”

  “All right,” said Nancy. “And we mustn’t forget how voices carry. Perhaps we’d better not talk any more.”

  Silently the two moved ahead until they were very close to the cave-in. Now they could hear two men’s voices and knew that the Monteiths had met someone.

  By this ti
me the person following Nancy and Rick seemed much closer. Instinctively Nancy and Rick looked around for a place to hide. There was none. Nancy signaled to Rick that their only chance to keep from being seen by the oncoming person was to drop to the ground and remain motionless in the tall grass.

  Seconds after they had done this, a tall, well-built stranger stalked by them. Apparently he was not aware of their presence, for he did not stop. He joined the other three at the cave-in and more conversation went on. To her disappointment, Nancy could not distinguish a word.

  “I’m sure something sinister is afoot,” she thought. “I must find out what it is!”

  She began to inch forward along the ground to reach a better listening post. Rick followed.

  CHAPTER XII

  The Rescue

  Quickly and silently Nancy and Rick pulled themselves to the edge of the cave-in. Looking into the gaping hole, they saw Ross and Audrey Monteith and the tall stranger making their way down the side. The trio’s flashlights were being beamed in all directions. There was no sign of the first man and Nancy and Rick decided he must have left.

  “I wonder what those three are looking for,” Nancy asked herself.

  Ross was tapping his cane here and there. Sometimes he would leave it in one spot for several seconds. Rick’s eyes were glued on this maneuver.

  “I wish I could get my hands on that cane,” he told himself. “It’s not an ordinary one. If it doesn’t contain a Geiger counter, there’s something else inside.”

  As the trio reached the bottom of the cave-in, they started to talk. Nancy and Rick did their best to hear what was being said but nothing intelligible came to their ears except one phrase:

  “We’ll have to try another place.”

  What could this mean? Nancy wondered. Were the trio merely searching for something much as looters might? Or was there more to it? Nancy’s mind even toyed with the idea that the Monteiths and their friend had caused the explosion hoping to find something. Having failed to uncover whatever they were looking for, were they going to attempt another dynamiting?