The Phantom of Pine Hill

by Carolyn Keene

  Ned said it was possible Uncle John was having fun at Mrs. Holman’s expense.

  A determined look came over Nancy’s face. “There’s an easy way to learn if he came here tonight,” she said. “Tomorrow morning I’ll find a pretense for phoning Uncle John at his college reunion, and find out where he was tonight.”

  Nancy asked Ned to put the roll of money into his pocket. Then the lamps were turned off and the draperies opened. As Nancy pulled aside one to a rear window, she cried, “The light! See it out there in the woods!”

  Ned could detect a small moving light among the trees near the river. “So that’s the phantom,” he remarked.

  “Come on! Let’s investigate!” Nancy urged.

  As they hurried toward the door, they heard a low moaning sound.

  “Stand back!” Ned ordered Nancy.

  He whipped open the door and stepped into the hall. The next second a hood was thrown over his head and he was borne to the floor!

  CHAPTER VI

  A Revengeful Spook

  WHEN Nancy heard Ned’s muffled cry, she rushed into the hall. It was dimly lighted by a lamp on the second-floor hall. She could see no one but struggling Ned. Quickly she pulled the hood off him, then snapped on the switch to the ceiling light. She found herself holding a pillowcase!

  She returned to Ned, who was on his feet now. Suddenly he thought of the money. He ran his hand into his trousers’ pocket. The roll of bills was still there!

  He said to Nancy, “Anyway, my attacker didn’t intend to rob me—unless he had no time, with you arriving on the scene so soon.”

  Nancy was already hunting around the floor for evidence. Suddenly the young sleuth giggled as she came across a pale-blue ribbon sash. She picked it up and walked close to Ned.

  “This is from Bess’s robe!” she whispered. “She and George pulled this trick!”

  The couple searched and found the two culprits hiding in the dining room.

  “Okay, girls,” said Ned. “You just wait! When I tackle you with a pillowcase some day, it’ll be full of feathers!”

  Before locking the door to the library, Nancy looked out the back window again. The light in the woods was gone.

  “I was afraid of that,” she said. “George Fayne, you and Bess made me miss my chance to go after the phantom.”

  The two girls said they were sorry and Nancy remarked that she would keep her eyes open for another opportunity. The group went upstairs and Ned was shown into Mr. Rorick’s bedroom.

  “Thanks. And, by the way, I’ll probably leave here before you girls are up. Everyone in the pageant is due for an early-morning rehearsal.”

  “But where will you have breakfast?” Bess asked solicitously.

  “Oh, I’ll grab a bite at the fraternity house.” Ned took the roll of bills from his pocket. “Nancy, I’d better leave this money with you. I think you should ask Mr. Rorick’s or Mrs. Holman’s permission to remove it from the house.”

  Nancy agreed. The following morning Mrs. Holman returned just before breakfast. She reported her niece was out of danger and that the young woman’s mother had arrived to take care of the children.

  “I’m glad to hear Mrs. Ball is better,” Nancy said. Then she told Mrs. Holman about her discovery that money was missing. The woman said she would feel better if it were in safekeeping.

  “Would it be possible for you to call Uncle John at his college reunion and ask him about it?” Nancy queried.

  “That’s a good idea,” the housekeeper agreed. “I’ll do it right now before he goes out.”

  She hurried to the telephone in the hall. When she reached her employer, she beckoned Nancy to come and talk with Mr. Rorick. Laughingly, the young detective asked if he had enjoyed himself the previous evening and he went into a long explanation of the party for the old-timers at his fraternity house. Nancy was satisfied that he was really there.

  She thought, “He’s definitely not the phantom.”

  When Nancy told him that the girls had discovered the money in the books and that it was being stolen, he became alarmed. “You must catch that phantom thief!” he said.

  “I’m doing my best, but it may take a while,” Nancy answered. “In the meantime, may I have your permission to put the money in a safe place—your bank for instance?”

  “Suppose you take it to the college bursar.”

  “Fine, I’ll do it right away,” Nancy promised.

  Twenty minutes later the three girls drove up to the administration building on the campus. Nancy found the bursar to be a very understanding man and a great friend of Mr. Rorick. “I’ll mark this money with John’s name and keep it in the safe,” he said.

  Nancy thanked the bursar. She got a receipt and left his office.

  As she rejoined Bess and George at the car, Nancy said, “Let’s walk over to the college library and see what we can find out about the Lucy Belle.”

  Having been to Emerson several times before, the girls were familiar with the campus. As they walked to the library building, Nancy told her companions about the riverboat book Ned had seen and the men he had overheard talking behind a stack of books.

  The library was well-stocked and Mr. Beecher, the head librarian, was a well-informed person.

  When Nancy made her request, he replied, “Don’t bother with the books we have here. There is a woman in Emerson named Mrs. Palmer who can tell you more about the early history of this place than any book I’ve read.” He jotted down her address, and the girls started for her home.

  The house was on the river front a short distance from the campus. Mrs. Palmer proved to be a delightful woman in her eighties. She was small in stature, with snow-white hair piled high, a delicate alabaster complexion, and a keen mind. Nancy introduced herself and her friends, explaining why Mr. Beecher had sent them.

  “Do come in,” Mrs. Palmer invited cordially. When the girls were comfortably seated in the old-fashioned parlor, the woman said, “I can tell you many stories that have been handed down.” She asked how much they knew about the sinking of the Lucy Belle, and Nancy gave her what meager information she had.

  “That’s all true,” Mrs. Palmer told her. “I always have felt bad to think of that gorgeous wedding gown and veil and the queen’s gift of a fan being ruined by mud and water at the bottom of the river.”

  “Have you any idea what else was in the cargo?” Nancy asked.

  “Well, rumor has it that there were two things aboard of particular value. One was the Rorick gifts. The other was a shipment of gold coins for the bank in Emerson. It’s said that there was a great effort on the part of local citizens at the time to retrieve the box of coins, but if anyone ever found them, it was not reported. In any case, they never got to the bank.”

  The three girls were fascinated by this additional information about the Lucy Belle. George asked how much money was involved, but Mrs. Palmer did not know.

  “I’m sure it was considerable, however,” she said. “There’s another old rumor that a couple of crewmen had caused the explosion, stolen the gold coins, and taken off in a boat.”

  “Did the rumors mention any names?” Bess asked.

  “I don’t know. I never heard any names.”

  Mrs. Palmer seemed to be tiring, so Nancy said that the girls had to leave now. She thanked Mrs. Palmer for taking time to tell them the stories.

  The elderly woman smiled. “It has been years since anyone has asked me about the early history of this place and I have been delighted to talk to you. Do come back sometime and let me relate what I have been told about the Indian raids. The old town of Emerson was plundered and burned several times, but the inhabitants loved it enough to rebuild it.”

  “Are many of the old families still here?” Nancy asked.

  Mrs. Palmer said sadly that she and Mr. Rorick were the only two descendants left of the original settlers’ stock. “But we helped to build the university,” she said proudly, “and though that has changed the town considerably, we’re gla
d to have done it.”

  Bess smiled. “We thank you for doing it. We’re having a wonderful time during June Week. Will you be watching the pageant this afternoon?”

  “Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Palmer. “A young friend is coming to take me.”

  After leaving, Nancy drove directly to the Rorick home. She asked her friends to help her search the books in the library for further information on the Lucy Belle.

  “Not before lunch,” Bess stated firmly. “I’m starved!”

  “That seems to be a perpetual complaint of yours,” said George. “What happened to that diet you were going to follow?”

  Bess looked hurt. “You know I’ve lost seven pounds!”

  “Which you’ll put right back on if you don’t stop stuffing yourself,” George warned.

  When the girls were ready to go into the library, Mrs. Holman went along. As the door was swung back, the four gave startled cries. The room was a shambles! Books and pamphlets lay strewn about the floor and on the furniture.

  “Mr. Rorick’s desk has been broken into!” exclaimed Mrs. Holman.

  The drawers were open. Nearly everything had been taken out of them and thrown on the floor.

  “It’s the phantom!” the housekeeper said. “Why would he want to do it?”

  George had a ready answer. “Maybe the phantom was so angry at finding that the money had been removed he decided to get revenge!”

  There was silence for a few seconds, then Nancy said quietly, “There might be another reason for someone doing this.”

  CHAPTER VII

  The Perplexed Chief

  STANDING in the midst of the untidy library, Mrs. Holman, Bess, and George waited for Nancy to give her own theory as to why the phantom had made a shambles of the room.

  “Don’t you think,” Nancy asked, “that if the only thing the mysterious thief wanted was money he would have taken all of it at once?”

  “That sounds reasonable,” the housekeeper conceded.

  Nancy went on, “Since he simply helped himself to small amounts at a time, I believe he thought he was avoiding suspicion.”

  George nodded. “You mean that although Uncle John was hiding the money so that the amount was the same as the book page, he wouldn’t be sure whether it was, say, a hundred and fifty or a hundred and forty that he had put in?”

  “Exactly. And so he would not report the theft to the police.”

  Bess said, “But you haven’t told us why the thief made a wreck out of this room.”

  Nancy replied that it was evident he was hunting for something important beside the money. “Perhaps he knows we’re working on the mystery and is getting frantic to find the thing before we do.”

  Bess sighed. “I almost hope he found what he was looking for and never comes back!”

  “That would please me too,” said Mrs. Holman.

  As the girls picked up the books and papers they looked at each one for a clue to the mystery. The papers gave no hint, so these were put back into the desk drawers.

  Bess saw something sticking from under the desk and got down on hands and knees to look. There was another paper which she pulled out and held up.

  “Oh no!” she cried.

  The others turned to look. On the paper were two large black thumbprints.

  Instantly Nancy was excited. The prints looked like the ones on the paper which had floated to her feet in the woods!

  “I’ll get the other paper,” she said, and hurried up the stairs.

  When she returned, the black prints were compared under a magnifying glass from Uncle John’s desk. They were exactly the same!

  “I think I should take these papers to the police,” she said.

  Her friends continued to hunt for clues in the books while Nancy went to town. She found Police Chief Rankin a rather stern man. Nancy stated her errand quickly and showed him the papers with the thumbprints.

  After looking at them for several seconds, the officer said, “Tell me the whole story in detail.”

  It took Nancy some time to give him an account of what had happened since her arrival in Emerson. When she finished, Chief Rankin said, “I’m afraid I didn’t put much credence in Mrs. Holman’s story about a phantom. As for the missing pearls, there were no fingerprints in the room but yours and hers. Frankly,” he went on with an apologetic smile, “I thought it likely you had mislaid the necklace, got excited, and reported it stolen. But now I see you’re not that kind of person. I will go out to Pine Hill myself and do a little investigating,” he added.

  “That’s what I was hoping you would do,” said Nancy. “When will you come?”

  “Right now. I’ll follow you in my car.”

  Mrs. Holman and the girls were astonished to see Nancy drive in with the police chief. Bess whispered to the housekeeper, “Nancy’s very persuasive.”

  After Nancy had introduced the chief to Bess and George, he gave the library a thorough inspection. The others waited patiently while he tapped the walls, looked up the chimney, and asked if there were a trap door under any of the rugs.

  Bess whispered to George, “Nancy has already done all this. Why don’t we tell him so?”

  “Better not,” her cousin replied. She smiled. “We might be interfering with his—er—duties!”

  When the officer finished, he said firmly, “There’s only one possible way a thief could have entered this room. He must have a duplicate key to the padlock.”

  “But, Chief Rankin,” Mrs. Holman spoke up, “there is only one key to this padlock and the man at the lock shop assured Mr. Rorick that the padlock could not be picked.”

  Chief Rankin frowned. He did not argue with the housekeeper, but said crisply, “Take my advice—put a new padlock on at once and don’t let anyone get hold of the key to it!”

  Mrs. Holman was a bit hurt by his pre-emptory manner, but she merely said, “I will do that.” Turning to Nancy, she asked, “Would you have time to run downtown and buy a new padlock?”

  Nancy glanced at her wrist watch. It was just one o’clock and the girls were not due at the pageant until four. “I’ll have plenty of time,” she told the housekeeper.

  As she went outdoors with Chief Rankin, he said that he would look around the grounds, although he did not think he would find anything helpful.

  “Footprints wouldn’t mean anything. There must be hundreds of them around here, with people cutting grass, gardening, and searching for clues.” As he spoke the latter phrase, he looked significantly at Nancy.

  She smiled in answer, then asked, “What about the bobbing light in the woods at night?”

  “Have you seen it yourself?” the officer asked.

  “Yes.”

  Chief Rankin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I feel sure that no thief is going to give away his position by walking around those woods with a flashlight. I’d say they’re used by people who are taking shortcuts from the beach to the road.”

  Nancy did not comment—the police chief might be right! She said good-by, thanked him for coming, and drove off to get the new padlock. She obtained one at Emerson’s largest hardware store. The owner assured her that the lock was the very latest model and positively could not be opened except with the proper key.

  “Not even by a locksmith?” Nancy asked, her eyes twinkling.

  “Well,” said the shop owner, “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. But it would take a real expert to figure this one out. What are you going to use it for?”

  Nancy was vague in her answer. “Put it on a certain door to keep out burglars,” she said, chuck-ling, and the man did not ask any more questions.

  She paid for the padlock and hurried home. Mrs. Holman predicted that even two locks on the library door were not going to keep out the phantom. Nevertheless, she permitted Nancy and George to install the new lock to which there were two keys. She took one herself, and suggested that Nancy take the other and hide it carefully.

  During her absence, Bess and George had been looking through volum
e after volume of Uncle John’s books. But most of them had nothing to do with old boats or the history of the area.

  Soon Mrs. Holman announced that luncheon was ready and the girls went into the dining room. There were cold cuts, potato salad, rich, ripe tomatoes, and a delicious chocolate mousse dessert.

  “You are a marvelous cook,” Nancy said to Mrs. Holman. “Everything is so good!”

  The girls insisted upon washing the dishes. While they were working, there was a knock on the back door and Bess opened it. Fred Jenkins walked in, grinning at the three girls.

  “Hi, everybody!” he said. “I’ve got to work fast around here today, because I want to see that pageant, too.”

  Mrs. Holman appeared and told him to vacuum the living room, then the hall.

  “Okay,” he said, and went off to do it.

  As soon as the girls had finished their dishwashing chore, they went back to the library to look at more books. Mrs. Holman accompanied them, a mop and dustcloth in her hands.

  Fred, coming into the hall, saw her. “Oh, you shouldn’t be doing that,” he said. “I’ll dean the library for you.”

  “No, thank you,” said the housekeeper. “Mr. Rorick doesn’t want anybody but me to work in the room.”

  At that moment Fred noticed the two padlocks on the door. He began to laugh. “You sure must have a gold mine in that place.” The others ignored him.

  As he worked in the hall, Mrs. Holman kept an eye on him. Each time he came near the door to the library, she went out and found him another job which took him away from it.

  “He’s too nosy,” she said to the girls.

  Presently the telephone rang and Mrs. Holman answered it. After a short conversation, she hung up and came to the library door. The housekeeper beckoned Nancy toward her and whispered:

  “That was Chief Rankin. He said to tell you that the thumbprints on that paper are not on record. Whoever left them is not a known criminal.”