ENDINGS OF WORDS E:
final absent—secretive
extended ascending final—warm
upturned hook final—humorous, very persistent,
optimistic
downturned hook final—stubborn
straight, heavy final—bitter, ill-tempered, wary
high, upcurved final—friendly
blunt downstroke final—bossy, self-assertive
selfish
vain
sensitive
cruel
visionary
meek
emotionally disturbed
imaginative
shy
domineering
discreet
ACTIVITY
Nancy suggests that you get samples of handwriting from your friends and relatives. Try to see how their various character traits match up to what you have learned.
CHAPTER II
THE STRANGE THUMBPRINT
Clues in fingerprints
THE front doorbell of the Drew house rang long and loudly. Nancy hurried to answer it.
Peg Goodale, a member of the young sleuth’s Detective Club, rushed into the hall.
“Oh, Nancy, I have a marvelous mystery for us to solve!” she exclaimed.
“Good! But don’t tell it until the rest of the girls arrive.”
They did not have to wait long. Within minutes the others hurried in. With them were Bess Marvin, a slightly plump, pretty blonde, and dark-haired George Fayne, her tomboy cousin, two of Nancy’s closest friends. They often helped when she was working on a case.
After the minutes of the previous meeting had been read by Honey Rushmore, the secretary, Peg was invited to speak.
“As you know,” she began, “two weeks ago my grandfather died. There was no will in his safe-deposit box, but one was found in the top drawer of his library desk. Evidently, he wrote it himself. It was witnessed by a friend, now dead. On the will is a dark thumbprint.”
“Your grandfather’s?” Honey asked.
“No. From prints on file at police headquarters, it’s obvious that the print belongs neither to Grandpa nor to his butler. Because of this fact, the executor doesn’t want to accept the will as authentic.”
“Why?” Sue Fletcher asked.
“Because the will may have been tampered with, or even forged.”
Nancy asked if there was any question about the contents of the will.
“Yes, there is. Grandpa Goodale was wealthy and had told my parents he was leaving most of his estate to them. But in his will, only a small amount goes to them. The rest goes to a couple named Murphy, who worked for Grandpa many years ago.”
Bess Marvin spoke up. “Maybe your grandfather felt sorry for them and wanted them to be comfortable in their old age.”
Peg shook her head. “Grandpa was angry with them. They left him suddenly, right after my grandmother died. He was handicapped, and it was difficult for him to get around. But he insisted on staying in his own house.”
“That certainly was a mean thing for the Murphys to do,” George remarked. “Where are these people now?”
“We’re not sure,” Peg replied. “Nancy, what do you think we should do?”
“Track down whose thumbprint appears on the will.”
“How?” Sue asked.
“First we’ll try to find a matching print. There are no two people in the whole world with the same fingerprints, so the thumbprints are our first clue. There are many areas to which fingerprints will adhere. Hard surfaces that are nonporous show them up best. On a surface that absorbs the perspiration or oil from the skin—like unglazed paper, rough cardboard, and unfinished wood—you can’t really see them. Those prints are called latent, or hidden, prints. They must be developed by using a chemical. The visible prints are usually dusted to make them show up clearly.”
“But you can’t take them with you as evidence, can you?” Karen asked.
“Oh yes you can. They can be photographed, or lifted by means of a rubbery tape to which the powder will stick.”
“Powder?” Cathy asked.
“Right,” Nancy replied. “On light surfaces you dust with lampblack, graphite, or acacia powder. On dark surfaces you use white lead or talc. Sometimes, of course, you don’t need anything, because the finger that made the print had a sticky or filmy substance on it, like paint, ink, blood, or just plain dirt. They are clearly visible without having to be dusted.” The young sleuth said she had been planning to discuss fingerprints during one of their club meetings. “For that reason I bought some putty for us to practice on.”
Nancy opened a bag and took out a small chunk for each girl, together with a paper towel. They flattened the pieces, then George called out, “One! Two! Three! Go!”
Giggling, the members of the Detective Club pushed one finger after another onto the putty until they had prints of all ten fingers.
Bess grinned as she stared at hers. “The circle in the middle of my third finger looks like a lopsided pear.”
“Only you would say that,” her cousin said.
“Hmph!” Bess replied while George glanced at her prints.
“I see an apple on the index finger, a banana on your pinky, and a chocolate custard pie on your thumb!” George teased her cousin.
After they had compared notes and joked about the differences in their arches, loops, and whorls of which a fingerprint consists, Nancy said, “Now I think we’d better get back to the mystery of Grandfather Goodale’s will with the thumbprint on it. By the way, Peg, where did you say the print is?”
“On the back of the last page. There are three pages.”
Nancy said it was possible the person who left the visible print had not intended to. Furthermore, she suspected that if any substitution of a page had been made, it was the third sheet. “Peg, where is the will now?”
“A lawyer has it, but my father has a copy, even of the thumbprint.”
“Good,” said Nancy. “Would your dad let us see it?”
Peg nodded. “When I asked him if he’d mind my bringing it to the attention of the Detective Club, he said it would be a good idea. Nancy, he thinks you’re an ace at solving mysteries.”
Nancy smiled and urged that the members of the club hurry over to Peg’s home. Her father was there and greeted the girls cordially. At Peg’s request he brought out the copy of the will and laid it on the dining room table. “What have you figured out so far?” he asked.
“Not much, I’m afraid,” Nancy replied. “Mr. Goodale, did you see the original?”
“Yes.”
“Did you notice whether page three differed slightly from the others?”
“No, I didn’t. And I don’t believe the lawyer did, either.”
Peg now picked up the copy. “Nancy, could you tell from this if there is a difference among the pages?”
Nancy looked carefully at each sheet. “The printing on page three is a shade lighter than the rest. It is possible that this page has been substituted for the original.”
“What a clever deduction!” Karen exclaimed. “You’ve solved part of the mystery, Nancy. Now how about the thumbprint?”
Sue asked if it might belong to the man named in the will. Mr. Goodale shook his head. “That has already been checked out. The FBI has a record of Mr. Murphy’s print, and this does not match.”
Peg’s face fell. “So our suspect is no longer a suspect,” she said. “Nancy, what are we going to do?”
The sleuth smiled. “We’re not going to give up. Let’s examine the thumbprint more closely.”
She took a magnifying glass from her pocket. The other girls pulled out theirs, and all gazed intently at the copy of the will.
“All I see are a lot of whirligigs,” Peg said, giggling.
“They’re whorls,” Sue said. “And the man has a lot of broad vertical wrinkles on his thumb. Does that mean anything?”
“It could mean,” Nancy replied, “that his hand is almost constantly in contact wi
th water or some other liquid. Name occupations like that.”
“Car washer,” Sue replied.
“Dishwasher in a restaurant,” Karen guessed.
“Laundry person,” Bess offered.
“Bottling factory, like orange juice, or peaches, or cherries,” George added.
“Black cherries,” Honey said. “Remember, the print is pretty dark.”
The others laughed, except for Nancy.
“What’s your guess?” Mr. Goodale asked her, noticing she had become thoughtful.
“It may be far-fetched, but the suspect could work in a dye factory, in which case his fingers could be stained. If he perspired, he could make a dark print.”
“The suspect could work in a dye factory, ” Nancy said.
Suddenly, Mr. Goodale jumped up. “Nancy, I believe you have found the guilty person!”
Everyone stared at him.
“The Murphys have a son, Selig,” he explained. “He works in a dye factory. I’ll call the lawyer and have this Selig Murphy investigated at once.”
“Let us know what happens,” the girls begged as the meeting of the Detective Club broke up.
Mr. Goodale promised to do so, but it was not until two days later that Peg gave the girls a report in the Drew living room. Selig Murphy had confessed. When his parents were discharged by Grandpa Goodale, they kept a key to the house. From time to time, they went there with Selig while Grandpa Goodale was in the hospital and no one was at home.
“But why?” Honey asked.
“The Murphys stole various pieces of silver jewelry—even furniture,” Peg explained. “Things they felt he wouldn’t miss. In looking through his desk one day, they came across the will. They took it home to change the names of the main beneficiaries. Selig rented a typewriter that matched the one that had been used to draw the will. He copied the original text, but substituted his parents’ names on page three for those of my parents. Then he returned the revised will to the desk drawer.”
“And all the while Selig was very nervous,” Honey deduced, “and perspired freely, leaving a telltale thumbprint on the back of the substitute sheet!”
Peg nodded and everyone clapped.
“Nancy Drew, you’re responsible for solving this mystery,” Peg said. “My parents are really happy at the outcome.”
“Don’t forget,” said Nancy, “you all helped.”
“Even Selig.” Peg grinned. “I’m certainly glad he left his thumbprint on the will. Without it, my parents never would have been able to prove that the document had been tampered with!”
ACTIVITY
What kind of fingerprint do you have?
Everyone has their own unique fingerprint—even identical twins have different prints. Therefore, no two people’s are ever the same. Nancy suggests comparing your fingerprint with several of your friends’. Dip your thumb in blue or black ink and press it on white paper. Notice the different designs you and your friends have made.
CHAPTER III
GET THE FUGITIVE
Identification and sleuthing.
“WHAT an experience!” exclaimed Karen Carpenter, a charter member of Nancy Drew’s Detective Club. “Tell us about it again, Martie, and don’t leave anything out.”
Martie Wagner was quite upset about what had happened to her while on an errand for her mother at Wright’s Jewelry Store.
“No one was around,” she reported, “so I waited and looked over the jewelry and silverware inside the glass counters. I didn’t hear a sound, but suddenly a blindfold was tied across my eyes and a gag stuffed in my mouth! I tried hard to hit my attacker, but couldn’t see and couldn’t yell.”
“So what did you do?” Sue Fletcher asked, her eyes wide with shock.
“I pulled the gag out, and worked and worked until I got the kerchief off my eyes. By this time my assailant had disappeared, and I didn’t hear anything. For a second I thought a ghost must have done it.”
“Didn’t you yell then?” Peg asked.
Martie shook her head. “All I wanted to do was escape. As I rushed toward the front door an elderly man came in and asked me why I was running. Before I could answer, we both heard a groan coming from the back room.
“‘What’s that?’ the man asked. ‘Did you hurt somebody? Are you a thief?’ I cried ‘no, no,’ and followed him to the back room. On the floor lay the store owner, bound, blindfolded, and gagged. It was awful!”
The other girls agreed, then urged Martie to go on with her story.
“There’s not much more to tell. We freed Mr. Wright, and he called the police. The elderly man said he’d stay with him and advised me to go home, after the jeweler identified me as a friend of the family. He said I would be called later as a witness.”
Nancy spoke up. “Didn’t Mr. Wright tell his story?”
“Oh, yes,” Martie said. “A tall, thin, masked man came into the store, forced him into the back room, and tied him up. Then the stranger must have grabbed what jewelry he could before he saw me.”
Nancy said she would like to ask Martie some questions. “As you were having the blindfold put over your eyes, did the person who was doing it seem to be reaching down?”
On the floor lay the store owner!
“No, Nancy. The person’s arms were on a level with my shoulders.”
“Then perhaps the person wasn’t tall like the thief Mr. Wright described, and that means there may have been two thieves together. Martie, do you remember more about the person who blindfolded you?”
After a few seconds’ thought, Martie replied, “I recall a sweet odor.”
“Perfume?” Honey Rushmore suggested.
When Martie nodded, Nancy suggested the person might have been a woman. “Any other clues?” she asked. “Did you notice your attacker’s breathing?”
“Yes. It was heavy—as if the person had difficulty breathing.”
“Perhaps the person was overweight,” said Karen
“Good guess,” Nancy agreed. She turned to Martie. “Is this the jacket you wore to the jewelry store?”
“Yes.”
Nancy walked across the room and examined the tweed cloth. Then she picked up two curly red hairs from the back of the jacket. “I think your assailant had light red hair, probably short.”
The club members stared at Nancy admiringly, and Martie said, “I do remember one other thing. The person had small feet.”
“That means our suspect is probably a woman,” said Nancy.
Martie continued. “While she was blindfolding me, one of her shoes was right alongside mine. It looked the same size as mine, so maybe she’s my height. And I’d say she wore slacks and flat shoes. I could tell from the way she leaned against me.”
Nancy remarked that the girls had made a pretty good identification of the mysterious attacker and thief. “Peg, would you please list them?”
Peg held up her fingers and checked off the clues. “The assailant is a woman, about Martie’s height, is heavy, and gets short of breath. She has light red hair, probably short.”
Karen put in, “And travels with a tall, thin man who is rather violent. Why don’t we try to find them?”
“Good idea,” said Honey. “But how do we start, Nancy?”
“By going to the street where Wright’s is. We’ll talk to people in nearby stores and anyone who might have been around when the robbery was taking place. Perhaps someone saw the couple come out of the jewelry shop.”
“Maybe,” Peg suggested, “we’ll see the thieves!”
Nancy smiled. “I doubt it. They know the police will be after them. I’m sure they left quickly.”
“Then how can we find them?” Sue asked.
Nancy said she did not expect to. “But we might pick up clues to the thieves’ identity that the police haven’t learned yet.”
When the members of the Detective Club reached the area of the store, Nancy stopped suddenly. The girls looked at her inquiringly, then followed the direction in which she was glancing.<
br />
Martie asked, “You mean the cabbie at that taxi stand just beyond Wright’s might have been here during the robbery?”
“Yes.”
The girls walked over, and Nancy nudged Martie to ask him. When she did, he looked amused. “Are you playing detective?” he asked, then added, “I saw a man and a woman hurry out of Wright’s. They got into a parked car and drove off. I didn’t notice the license number, but the car was a dark sedan.”
Nancy winked at Peg, who said, “Please tell us what the couple looked like.”
As if to humor her, the cabdriver replied, “Well, the guy was tall and thin. The woman was shorter and had reddish hair.” Then he laughed. “Do you think I’d make a good detective, too?”
Nancy smiled. “A very good one. Can you describe their faces, the shapes of their heads, and their ears?”
The cabbie looked at her with heightened interest. “You’re really serious, aren’t you? Well, I believe the man had a sharp face and a small goatee. His nose was sharp, too, and I’d even say his ears were pointed.”
“That’s a great description,” Karen said. “Did you notice anything else?”
“Yes. I can tell you the guy was a mighty bad driver. His car was parked smack against the curb. He took off like a shot and sure gave the tires on the right side a beating. He scraped that curb so hard, I don’t think the rubber’s going to last long.”
“Thanks a lot,” Nancy said, and the girls walked away, whispering among themselves.
“What do we do next?” Peg wanted to know.
Nancy suggested going to police headquarters. “Our suspects may have police records. Also, Martie should tell her story to the authorities.”
When the club members reached the building, the young detective introduced the girls to Chief McGinnis.
The officer greeted them and said, “If Nancy Drew is your teacher, and you are able to solve mysteries the way she does, someday you all may join the police department!”
The girls laughed, then Nancy asked Martie to tell her story. Martie did so and ended by saying, “I didn’t get in touch with you, because Mr. Wright told me I’d be contacted later. I didn’t see the suspects.”
The Nancy Drew Sleuth Book Page 2
