Enemy Match

by Carolyn Keene

  None of the rapids of the New Brighton were particularly dangerous for a canoe, but a person could easily be injured on the jagged rocks.

  “Midge— if we can’t get up the bank in time, float legs first to protect your head,” Nancy shouted.

  The noise of the water grew louder and louder and she felt the current grow even stronger. She tightened her grip on the back of Midge’s life jacket. The girl turned her head and gave Nancy a courageous smile. “Don’t worry, Holmes,” she called, “Watson is ready.”

  As the girls abandoned all hope of escape, they heard a shout in the distance ahead.

  “Grab the rope!” came the cry. Nancy and Midge saw a tall man standing on the bank. As they watched, they saw his arm go back and then a long coil of rope snaked out over the water, a life preserver tied to the end.

  The life ring splashed down ahead of them, and as they came abreast of it Nancy made a desperate lunge. Her fingers slid across the ring and gripped it tightly. Then Midge threw her arm through the hole and they hung on to their anchor, exhausted, bobbing in the water like fish on a line.

  Nancy looked up and saw the man looming above them on the bank. The sky had grown so dark that she could barely make out his features.

  “Hang on,” he called. “You, the big one, you hold the life preserver and anchor it. And you, the little one, you climb up. Can you climb a rope?”

  “Sure,” shouted Midge. “Just watch me.”

  The bank was steep, but by scrabbling with her feet for toeholds, Midge managed to make it up the ten-foot bank to where the man could reach down and pull her to safety.

  “All right,” he called, “now you. Be careful!” Nancy pulled herself out of the water and strained every foot to the top, where she flopped down on the ground next to Midge. Then she looked up at their rescuer, who was methodically coiling up the rope.

  “Mr. Jackson?” asked Nancy.

  The man turned to her. His eyes were piercing and Nancy felt a cold chill. If this was Sam Jackson, he certainly did look mean. And yet, he had just saved them both from the river’s rapids.

  “Come along,” he said. Without another word, he strode away downstream. He was almost out of sight among the trees before the girls recovered and scrambled to their feet.

  “Hey, wait,” called Midge, but the man didn’t slow his pace. By the time Nancy and Midge caught up he was in front of a sturdy- looking house.

  He opened the door and motioned for them to enter. The young detectives hesitated. “Go on in,” the man rasped, “you want to die of exposure? The temperature is already down to fifty- five. I’ve got a fire started. Go on.”

  “Are you Sam Jackson?” Nancy repeated hesitantly.

  “What difference does it make who I am? If you’re fool enough to come down that river, you’ve got no right to ask questions, and you’re lucky you don’t feel the fish picking your bones.”

  “Well, sir,” Nancy said, “you’re right—we’ve been too frightened and breathless to thank you for saving our lives!”

  The man said nothing as he nodded toward the fireplace. The wet and shivering girls sat down to dry out. Their host disappeared, then returned from another room with two blankets, which he silently tossed to his visitors.

  “You are Mr. Jackson, aren t you?” Nancy persisted.

  The tall man, who had picked up an armload of wood, put it down with a slam. He turned to Nancy, his face now showing a look of anger.

  “Look, lady, I told you my name didn’t matter. I just pulled you two half-drowned critters out of the water and I’m the one who’ll ask the questions. Who are you and why were you going down the river? You’re not just joyriding like most of them who come down here. Now what are you after?”

  “We’re looking for somebody,” Nancy replied, “a man named John Ford, who was swept away further upriver in a flood a few months ago.”

  The man sat with his back to the fireplace wall and stared at them. “Well, you don’t look like a cop or a bounty hunter, so what do you want with him?”

  “I’m a detective,” Nancy replied. The man stiffened at her announcement. “A private detective,” she continued. “My name is Nancy Drew and this is my assistant—Watson. We’re trying to find John Ford because he is the father of a friend of mine. He was being taken to—” “Prison!” snapped the man. “I know all about him. They were taking him to prison. The cops got out of the car and he didn’t!”

  Nancy’s heart leaped. “How did you know?” she asked.

  “How did I know?” said the man. “I read the papers.”

  “Oh,” said Nancy, “then that’s all you know about him? We learned he came ashore just up the river, but the people there wouldn’t help him and—”

  “Don’t know anything about that.”

  Nancy fell silent. Then she looked up. “Mr. Jackson, I don’t care if you do get angry with me, but I know who you are. I believe that any man who keeps such a watch on the river and rescues people on a terrible day like today wouldn’t let another man die. You must know something else about what happened to John Ford.”

  Nancy was taking a calculated risk, hoping that she would shock this strange man out of his reticence. She waited for him to speak.

  “All right,” he said, his voice harsh and threatening. “I’ll tell you. But you’d better not be lying about being a friend or you’ll regret you ever came down this river!” His eyes blazed and Midge found herself crowding close against Nancy.

  10. A Friend in Need

  The two girls sat with their eyes riveted on the man’s face. Nancy cleared her throat. “We’re not lying, Mr. Jackson. It’s the truth.”

  “It had better be,” he snapped. He threw another log on the fire and then began talking and pacing up and down the room.

  “All right ... I am Sam Jackson. Who told you?”

  “A little girl up river. Sue Ellen.”

  Sam Jackson shook his head. “She’s about the only human around here. The rest of them are like wild animals. She probably said I’m mean, right?”

  Nancy nodded.

  “Well, if I am, I’ve got good reason. I served four years in state prison for a robbery I didn’t commit. When they found the guilty man they let me out and gave me twenty dollars and a new suit and said they were sorry. My wife died while I was in prison, maybe partly of shame. I came here to live because I wanted to have as little to do with people as I could.”

  Nancy and Midge remained silent, waiting for Sam Jackson to go on. When he simply paced and said nothing, Nancy spoke again.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Jackson. You have been through such an ordeal, yet you helped us. Now perhaps we can help John Ford.”

  Jackson suddenly slumped into a rough- hewn chair. He sighed. “All right, you say you’re his friend. Here’s what happened. The day he was swept away I was on the bank, keeping a sharp eye out. Lots of stuff comes down that river in flood time and I can often salvage things —like a boat or a piece of furniture. I furnished this house with stuff from the river.” He waved his hand and Nancy saw a battered moose head that hung on the wall, one eye missing.

  “From the top of the bank I can see upstream to the point where you came ashore. I was watching you through my glasses all the way.

  Well, the day John Ford was dunked in the drink I saw him crawl out and collapse on that beach, more dead than alive. Sue Ellen came down and discovered him. And then some women showed up and covered him with a blanket, but I knew the men wouldn’t let them do anything more because they’re so scared they’re afraid of their own shadows—somebody from the outside would totally terrify them. So that night I went up there, got him, and packed him back down here on my shoulders.”

  Nancy couldn’t stand the suspense. “Then he’s alive?” she asked.

  “Just hold your horses. Like I said, I brought him here and I tried to fix him up. He was in rough shape. He’d swallowed a lot of water and had a couple of broken ribs and a broken wrist.

  I set the wrist in
a splint and I wrapped his ribs just right. I learned that in prison. I worked in l he hospital and watched the doctors closely.” Nancy nodded but both she and Midge were squirming as they waited for Sam Jackson to get to the point.

  “So I fixed him up, but he had a fever and didn’t really come around for about a week. Oh,

  I forgot one thing. As soon as the flood died down, the police came by here and asked a million questions trying to find out if he had survived. I had to hide him in a root cellar I dug.” “Why didn’t you tell them he was here? The man needed medical attention and should have been taken to a hospital.”

  “A hospital,” sneered Sam Jackson, his mouth twisting into a grimace of disgust. “Don’t you mean a prison hospital? I wouldn’t send any man to a prison. Not after what I’ve seen. John Ford was better off here with me. Anyway, by that time he had no fever and his bones were starting to heal and he was getting better.”

  “So what happened to him?” Midge cried, unable to restrain herself. Jackson ignored her and went on at his own slow pace.

  “It took about two months for him to get all healed up and healthy again. But there was just one thing that didn’t heal.”

  “What was that?” Nancy asked anxiously.

  “He had developed amnesia The beating he took in that river affected his memory. He had no idea who he was or what had happened to him.”

  Sam Jackson paused. “I tried to help him. I’d read about him in the papers and I had them all stacked up here, so I let him read about himself. He realized he was the man whose picture was on the front page, but it did nothing to jog the rest of his memory.”

  Nancy shrugged. “Amnesia victims often withstand all attempts to bring back their memories. Sometimes it’s because of a physical reason like a hit on the head, and sometimes it’s a psychological one—because they don’t want to face pain.”

  “Well,” Sam said, “whichever it was in his case, I couldn’t get through to him.”

  “I read that occasionally a familiar or pleasant lace will trigger a series of remembrances,” Nancy explained, “and the patient recovers.” “Oh please, Mr. Jackson,” Midge broke in, “tell us what happened to him. Is he still hiding here?”

  Sam Jackson shook his head. “I can’t tell you that. This morning when I woke up, he was gone.”

  “Gone!” cried Midge and Nancy, simultaneously. “This morning?”

  “Yep. I had given him a hundred bucks and some clothes and I told him he was free to stay or go. He left a note saying he wanted to try to clear himself of the crime, though he still couldn’t remember anything except what he had read in the papers. He might contact his daughter. I just don’t know.”

  Nancy sighed. “Did he take a canoe?”

  “No. He must have walked. You can walk down the bank to the boat landing. From there he could have hitched a ride.”

  “How was he dressed? What did he look like when he left?”

  “He was wearing gray pants, a white shirt, and my old red sweater. And lie had on a pair of my shoes that were way too big for him.” “Anything else?” Nancy prompted. “Had he lost weight? Did he have a beard or mustache?” “No, he was kind of thin when he got here but I fattened him up pretty good. Yes, he had a reddish-brown beard—that is, when I last saw him.”

  Nancy remembered Nina’s father cleanshaven, with blond, wavy hair and twinkling blue eyes. She wondered what he looked like now.

  “Mr. Jackson, can you help us get downriver to the boat dock?” the young detective asked.

  Sam Jackson nodded. “But not tonight. The storm isn’t going to stop and it will be dark in an hour. You try to walk along that bank and you’ll get hurt for sure. You’ll have to stay here till morning. I’ll make you some dinner.”

  The girls looked at each other. Then Nancy, realizing they had no choice, said, “All right, Mr. Jackson, thank you. But we must get started at daybreak.”

  The girls were so exhausted that they fell asleep when their heads touched the pillows on the makeshift bed in front of the fire. Then Nancy heard Sam’s voice calling, “All right, ladies. Time to get up.”

  Nancy and Midge staggered to their feet and splashed water on their faces from a basin.

  At breakfast, Nancy gave Sam the pair of handcuffs they found at the river’s edge. “You should have these,” she said, “to remind you of your friendship with John Ford. They’ll be safe with you in case we ever need them for evidence.” Then the girls followed the man out the door and down the trail along the riverbank. The sun was just coming up and the clouds had passed through. The world was still very damp from the heavy rain.

  It took over an hour of hard slogging on a rough, wet, and winding trail to cover the distance to the second boat dock. At last it appeared around a bend where the river emerged from rough country and spread out into a valley.

  “This is as far as I go,” Sam said. “You can make it from here, I reckon.”

  “What do you think we should do about our canoe?” asked Nancy. “We had to leave it on the bank with a hole in it.”

  Sam Jackson rubbed his chin. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll fix it and bring it downstream tomorrow morning.”

  Nancy smiled at him. “Sam Jackson, you’re not mean at all.” Then both girls thanked him for his kindness and shook his hand.

  “You just happened to catch me on a good day,” he grunted. “Now remember not to tell anybody what I told you.”

  “Oh yeah?” came a nasty but familiar voice. “And just what did you tell this canoe thief, Sam? You might just wind up in jail again if you don’t watch out!”

  11. Good News

  The sound of Bull Tolliver’s voice made Nancy freeze. Slowly she turned to face the big man with the beady eyes, who had stepped out from behind some bushes. He had spotted the trio from the boat house and worked his way behind the trees to come up behind them. There was a sneer on his lips as he stared at the girls and their new friend.

  Before Nancy could speak, Sam Jackson brushed past her in a flash and had grabbed Bull Tolliver by his shirt front.

  “Don’t you ever threaten me with prison, you miserable brute. Do you hear me?” He shook the huge Tolliver until the man’s teeth chattered and the bully made no effort to resist. “And as for that canoe, I’ll have it patched and down here by tomorrow—so you’re not going to be calling these girls thieves. They couldn’t help it if your beat-up canoes can’t take the rapids.”

  “Okay, okay, Sam,” Tolliver wheezed. “Don’t get sore. Let me go.”

  Jackson pushed the whining boat dock operator back against the bushes and turned to Nancy and Midge. “If he tries to give you any trouble, you come to me,” he said. Then, without another word, he walked back the way he had come and disappeared from sight.

  “Does that sound fair to you, sir?” asked Nancy, almost sweetly.

  “Yeah,” the red-faced Tolliver grumbled, trying to regain his composure. “Okay, but I’m losing a rental on that canoe today, you know.” “Don’t worry about that,” said Nancy. “I’ll pay you an extra day’s rental and Mr. Jackson will repair your canoe, so that should even the score, Mr. . . . ah, I didn’t get your name?” “Never mind my name.”

  “Are you ashamed of it?” asked Nancy. “No,” the fat man flared. “My name’s Willow. Paul Willow,” he lied.

  “Mr. Willow, hmm,” said Nancy. “Well, I’ll give you a check this time made out to Paul Willow.”

  “Don’t do that,” he snapped. “Make it out to New Brighton Boat Dock. That’s good enough.”

  He glared at Nancy. “You really owe me for my time and trouble this morning, too. When my man phoned me and told me you hadn’t shown up, I had to come all the way down here in my car to find out about my canoe. I figure you owe me ten dollars more.”

  “I don’t think so,’’Nancy said.“I just remembered that I left you a deposit. That is more than enough to cover everything. If you don’t agree I can always call Mr. Jackson back to discuss it with you.”


  “Great,” Midge said delightedly. “How would you like that, Mr. Willow?”

  “Come on, Midge,” Nancy said, taking her by the arm. “Let’s call for a ride.” She led her assistant away toward the boat house, where there was a pay telephone.

  Bull Tolliver stood flushed and angry, not knowing what to do.

  A taxi arrived a half hour after their call and took Nancy and Midge back to where they had left the car.

  “What do you think?” Midge asked, as they drove back to the city. “Bull Tolliver must be suspicious of something—he didn’t just trail us to Jackson’s because of a canoe rental.”

  Nancy agreed. “I think he is, too, and he overheard enough to know there’s a secret between Sam Jackson and us. The question is, why does he care? I can’t help but think Tolliver might be tied in to our case with Ford somehow, but I can’t figure where.”

  The girls returned to their hotel, dirty and exhausted, and enjoyed the luxury of hot baths and clean clothes. Then they collapsed on the beds and had dinner served in their room. It was the first time in Midge’s life she had experienced such a treat.

  Nancy watched her with weary pleasure as the youngster eagerly ate chicken, baked potato, vegetables, salad, and a double order of dessert and milk.

  “I’m very proud of you, Watson. You handled yourself well yesterday and today. You never panicked and you kept your sense of humor.” “Thanks, Nancy,” said Midge through a mouthful of blueberry pie. “And don’t forget, I found the handcuffs.”

  “You sure did. Without them we might never have gone up the trail and met Sue Ellen and Sam Jackson and learned about John Ford.” “Oh,” Midge said modestly, “you probably would have done that anyway, Nancy. You wouldn’t have missed those clues.”

  “Maybe, but the best thing that happened was when Sam Jackson threw us that life preserver,” commented Nancy wryly. “Now, we’d better call home. I’ve got your dad’s phone number in Huntingdon, where he’s checking out that job.”