The Clue in the Old Album

by Carolyn G. Keene

  Rose!

  Mrs. Struthers recalled that her granddaughter had been away from the house after Nancy’s accident the previous afternoon. As soon as Rose appeared, Mrs. Struthers showed her the headline.

  “Rose, what do you know about this?”

  “Oh, I told some kids down the street, and Lorna’s father writes for the paper.”

  “This article even describes how that couple in the car stole our fan doll, and I didn’t want any publicity about it!”

  “I mentioned that when he called to confirm the story.”

  Mrs. Struthers sighed. “Whatever shall I do with you, Rose?”

  The girl became sulky and would not eat breakfast. The situation was not relieved when Nancy appeared and saw the newspaper account. She had recovered from the effects of the poison, but this new development embarrassed and disturbed her.

  When Nancy and Hannah reached home, they were besieged with phone calls from interested friends. Ned Nickerson, a special college friend of Nancy’s, suggested they attend a carnival that evening to get Nancy’s mind off the situation.

  At seven o’clock handsome, dark-haired Ned arrived. He was working this summer as counselor at a boys’ camp. The couple drove to Claymore and enjoyed the carnival with its gay crowds and many amusements. They stopped first at a shooting gallery, where Ned won a large stuffed animal, which he presented to Nancy.

  “What shall we do next?” he asked. “Want to try the ferris wheel?”

  Nancy shook her head. “Listen!” she exclaimed.

  “To what? That gypsy’s fiddle?”

  “Are there gypsies in this carnival?”

  “Sure, down at the far end. They have several fortunetelling tents. Want to have a reading?”

  “Let’s!”

  “Not me.” Ned laughed. “My future is pretty well set, and I don’t want anyone tampering with it. I’ll go into business, prosper, and marry a certain ambitious young lady named....”

  “Come on, Ned,” Nancy broke in. “I’m not so much interested in fortunes myself, but I do want to hear that violinist play. A case I’m working on has something to do with a gypsy violinist.”

  They hastened to the tents, where a cluster of bright-eyed, bronze-skinned children stared at them. A woman in a colorful red and yellow skirt hurriedly took up her post in front of one of the tents. Her flashing eyes studied Nancy.

  “Cross my palm with money and I will tell your fortune, pretty miss,” she said.

  Nancy shook her head, for she was listening intently to a violin solo.

  “Isn’t that the Hungarian Rhapsody?” Nancy murmured to Ned. “Maybe the violinist is Romano!”

  “Who’s he?” Ned asked. “A rival of mine?”

  Nancy did not explain, for she noticed that the woman was listening attentively to every word she and Ned were saying. Her gaze was so penetrating that the girl felt ill at ease.

  “May we speak to the violinist?” Nancy asked her.

  “No, it is not allowed,” the woman replied.

  She turned and whispered to a couple of children. One of the youngsters scurried away from the tent, and a moment later the violin playing ended abruptly.

  “At least tell us the name of your gifted musician,” Nancy urged. The woman shrugged her shoulders and went into the tent.

  “Nice, sociable people!” Ned commented.

  He and Nancy wandered on and tried to catch a glimpse of the violinist. Evidently the child had warned him and he had fled.

  As the couple walked along the row of tents, they were scrutinized by everyone around. No one again offered to tell Nancy’s fortune. When a little boy came to Ned and begged for money, his mother spoke sharply to him. The child scampered off without taking the coin Ned offered him.

  “What’s the matter with everybody?” he asked, puzzled. “It’s as if they’re afraid we’ll find out something they want to keep secret!”

  The longer Nancy and Ned stayed, the more tense the atmosphere became, so finally they left and returned to the main section of the carnival. There they asked one of the concessionaires where the gypsies had come from.

  “Spain, I believe,” the man replied. “Guess they’re fixing to leave the carnival a few days after the wedding.”

  “What wedding?” Nancy inquired.

  “Why, the one tonight at ten o’clock. Didn’t you see the sign? They’re marrying off a child bride.”

  “No, we didn’t,” Nancy said. “I’d love to go to the ceremony. But I thought gypsy weddings were for gypsies only.”

  “They usually are,” the man agreed. “This one would have been too, only the carnival manager got their chief, Zorus, to agree to let the public attend.”

  “For a fee, no doubt,” Ned added.

  “Oh, sure, a high one at that. But it’s only tonight that outsiders can go. A gypsy wedding sometimes goes on for six or seven days, with dancing and feasting.”

  “Where can we get tickets?” Ned asked.

  “At the first tent from here. I’ve been told it won’t be worth the price, though. All that happens is the chief speaks a few words, and they give the child bride a doll. Then the dancing begins. That’s the best part.”

  Nancy’s eyes kindled at mention of a ceremony involving a doll. She might pick up a clue. Then her eager expression turned to one of dismay.

  “Ned,” she said, “maybe the gypsies won’t let us in!”

  “We’ll soon find out,” he replied.

  The two purposely stayed away from the gypsy section of the carnival until nearly ten o’clock. Then Nancy said, “If we go in separately, maybe they won’t spot us.”

  She was right. Eager last-minute attendants at the performance jostled them and they were not noticed by the ticket seller or any other gypsies.

  Music for the wedding was furnished by three handsome young fiddlers. Nancy liked their gay, colorful costumes. Because of the men’s ages she knew none of them could be Rose’s father. After listening to the music, she also concluded that not one of the musicians had the fine touch of the violinist who had played the Hungarian Rhapsody a little while before.

  “That other violinist could have been Romano Pepito,” Nancy thought. “Oh, how I wish I might see him!”

  At this moment the musicians changed to another melody, soft and sweet. From a tent stepped a middle-aged man wearing a red-and-yellow suit and long, round earrings. He was the master of ceremonies and walked to the center of the ring.

  “According to gypsy custom,” he said to the audience, “the price for the bride must be paid before the wedding takes place. In olden days horses were given, but now we prefer money.”

  The gaudily attired young bridegroom and the father of the bride came forward. The former took a small pouch of jingling coins from a pocket and handed it to the other, who thanked him. Then the three fiddlers struck up a solemn march.

  “Oh, this must be the chief,” Nancy concluded, as a tall, elderly man in a long, embroidered red robe stalked from another tent. Piercing black eyes looked out above a heavy, iron-gray beard. He spoke to the other men, then the bride’s father went into a tent.

  “We are true gypsies,” the master of ceremonies explained, “and our girls marry very young. But we have complied with all the laws of this state. Our leader, Zorus, will now unite Melchor and Luisa in a Romany wedding ceremony.”

  The musicians began to play a livelier air, but this did not help to calm the bride as she stepped nervously from her tent. Nancy’s heart went out to the beautiful young girl, who looked very frightened and could not have been more than fourteen years old. She was dressed in an embroidered white silk gown, which had become yellowed with age.

  The ceremony was performed by Zorus in the space of a few minutes. Nancy studied his cruel face. “I wouldn’t trust him,” she thought.

  A loaf of bread, salt, and a bottle of wine were brought out as symbols of plenty. Zorus broke the bread and sprinkled salt on each half. The bride and groom exchanged halves, each
taking a bite and a sip of wine.

  Zorus now motioned to the announcer, who said, “It has been a custom for hundreds of years, at weddings of our tribe, to present the child bride with a doll. Today our bride is not exactly a child, but we shall follow that custom.”

  Nancy watched intently as an elderly gypsy woman walked forward with a basket. Possibly Rose’s father at the time of his marriage had given his bride a gypsy doll. It might have been a duplicate of the one about to be presented!

  “If it was and that’s the one I’m to look for, I may be a long way toward solving Mrs. Struthers’ mystery,” she concluded.

  When the gift was held up, Nancy’s hopes fell. It was only an inexpensive factory-made doll, and so new it could have no significance for her.

  In a few moments the violinists began to play dance music, and the crowd milled around. Ned found Nancy and asked if she had enjoyed the ceremony.

  “Oh, yes,” she replied. “For just a second I thought I had found a good clue, but nothing came of it. Let’s watch the performance a few minutes longer and then go home.”

  Though the tribal dances were interesting to watch, Nancy found her gaze wandering toward a middle-aged gypsy couple who stood off to one side.

  “That man and woman look familiar to me,” the girl thought. “And yet I don’t know any gypsies.”

  She noticed that they were staring at her, but when she faced them directly they looked away and edged toward the exit.

  “Why did they do that?” Nancy wondered.

  Suddenly she believed she knew who they were. The man had a scar on his forehead. The woman had carrot-red hair. They fitted Rose’s description of the couple who had stolen Mrs. Struthers’ fan doll!

  CHAPTER V

  Foiled

  NANCY grabbed Ned’s arm and hurried after the suspects. An old woman stopped the gypsy couple and addressed the man as Anton and the woman as Nitaka.

  “I think they might be the thieves who came to Mrs. Struthers’ in a black sedan!” Nancy whispered to Ned. “If so, their car must be parked on the grounds and there might be some evidence in it. Want to see if you can find it?”

  “Sure thing. What’s the license number?”

  “I don’t know, Ned. But look for a new black sedan. I’ll wait here for you. I want to watch Anton and Nitaka.”

  Ned slipped away quietly and Nancy followed the gypsy couple. Presently they stopped and she sauntered up to them and asked a question about the wedding ceremony. Anton gazed at her with hostile eyes and made a brief reply.

  Nancy then brought up the subject of dolls. Instead of talking to her, Anton said something to Nitaka in the Romany language. The couple turned their backs and walked away.

  A few minutes later Nancy spotted them talking confidentially to Zorus. As they left him, she caught the word “Drew.” They must be talking about her!

  Ned returned to report he had found not one but three black sedans that would answer Nancy’s description. He also handed her a scrap of soiled paper.

  “Found this on the ground near one of the cars,” he explained. “It’s a receipt that may interest you.”

  The paper read, “For one doll, $100—” The rest had been torn off, and the names of both buyer and seller were missing.

  “This certainly does interest me!” Nancy cried. “We must find the other part of the paper. Show me where you picked this up.”

  Ned led her to the dimly lighted parking lot.

  “The note was lying on the ground by this black sedan,” he pointed out. “There was no other paper anywhere around.”

  “This car looks like the one that stopped at the Struthers’,” Nancy said. “Maybe if we wait, we’ll see who the owner is. And if he should turn out to be Anton or Nitaka....”

  “Hey, not so fast.” Ned laughed.

  “We must find the other part of the paper,” Nancy said.

  He and Nancy searched the ground for the missing part of the receipt but did not find it. Presently they heard someone coming.

  “It may be Anton or Nitaka!” Nancy whispered.

  They slipped behind another parked car and saw a young man walk over to the sedan and unlock the door. Ned came out of hiding.

  “Just a minute, sir,” he said. “May we ask you a few questions?”

  Startled, the fellow whirled around. Then Ned burst into laughter.

  “Bill Jones!” he exclaimed, recognizing a college friend whom Nancy also knew.

  “From the way you spoke, I take it you thought I was a crook!” Bill grinned after he had greeted Nancy and her escort.

  “Something like that,” Ned admitted. “Is this your car?”

  “It will be when I finish the payments on it. What are you and Nancy doing here? Sleuthing?”

  “We came to see the carnival,” Nancy explained, “but now we’re looking for some thieves.”

  “Sorry I can’t oblige you,” Bill teased. “Want a lift to River Heights?”

  “No, thanks, Bill, we have a car,” Ned replied.

  He and Nancy waited for the owners of the other black sedans, but did not see Anton, Nitaka, or any other gypsies.

  “Well, I failed on all my clues tonight,” Nancy said as she and Ned walked to their car. “Or did I? Maybe learning who those suspects are will be worthwhile.”

  Nancy’s exciting visit to the carnival did not prevent her from sleeping soundly. At breakfast she said to her father, “Dad, have you a date tonight?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “Will you go somewhere with me?”

  “With you?” Mr. Drew replied, chuckling. “I’d be delighted.”

  “Maybe you won’t be so pleased when you hear where it is. I’d like to take Rose to the carnival.”

  “Oh, no!”

  “Only to have her look at Anton and Nitaka to see if they’re the ones who stole the fan doll.”

  “That’s different,” said Mr. Drew. “All right.”

  Mrs. Struthers consented to the plan, and Rose was thrilled. When she and the Drews reached the fairgrounds, she insisted on trying all the rides. Nancy joined her on a few but soon begged to stay on the sidelines with her father.

  The carnival manager passed by as Rose was on The Whip. Nancy asked him where the gypsies had gone. To her disappointment he said the group had moved out early that morning.

  “That old fellow Zorus was a strange guy,” the manager remarked. “Never even said they were leaving.”

  “How about Anton and Nitaka?” Nancy queried. “Did they go with the others?”

  “I didn’t know any of them except their king.”

  “King?” Mr. Drew inquired. “Was Zorus their king?”

  “That’s what they called him,” the manager explained. “And treated him like one, too.”

  On the drive home Rose fell asleep in the back seat. Nancy reflected on the information she had received from the carnival manager. Were the couple she suspected of stealing Mrs. Struthers’ doll subjects of Zorus? Had he, perhaps, instructed Anton and Nitaka to take it?

  Mr. Drew broke in on his daughter’s thoughts. “Guess you scared the gypsies away,” he said.

  “I’ll keep on looking for Anton and Nitaka just the same,” Nancy replied.

  When the Drews delivered Rose to her home, Mrs. Struthers requested that Nancy attend a sale of dolls in another state the following week. She suggested that George and Bess go with her. Nancy agreed.

  At nine o’clock Monday morning, she and her friends met at the River Heights airport and boarded a plane for Jefferson. When the girls were seated and ready for takeoff a last-minute passenger rushed inside. She flopped into an aisle seat several rows ahead of Nancy, Bess, and George.

  Nancy nudged her friends. “Nitaka just got on the plane!” she whispered.

  “You mean that carrot-haired woman?” Bess asked. “She isn’t wearing gypsy clothes.”

  “The woman who stole Mrs. Struthers’ doll wasn’t wearing them at the time, either,” said Nancy. �
�The gypsies left the carnival, but evidently they didn’t move very far away,” she guessed.

  “Where do you suppose Nitaka’s going?” George asked.

  “I have no idea, but I mean to follow her, now that I have a chance,” Nancy decided. “If she doesn’t get off at Jefferson, I’ll stay on the plane until she does.”

  “Oh, please don’t,” Bess begged. “You might get into troublel”

  “What about the doll sale?” George asked.

  “You girls will have to go to it.” As the cousins groaned and insisted they could not do the job without her, Nancy replied, “If Nitaka is a thief and she could lead me to something important, you wouldn’t want me to give up the chase, would you?”

  “I suppose not,” George said grudgingly.

  Not once during the flight to Jefferson did Nitaka glance over her shoulder. She seemed indifferent to the scenery and devoted herself to a booklet, which she read many times.

  The girls were the first passengers off the plane when it landed at Jefferson. They kept out of sight and watched to see if Nitaka would alight also.

  Nancy had just about decided she was not going to, when the woman appeared. She hastened through the terminal and jumped into a cab.

  “Hurry, or we’ll lose her!” Nancy cried out to her friends.

  After a little delay the girls found a taxi. By this time Nitaka’s cab was far down the road.

  “Will you please try to overtake that taxi?” Nancy asked their driver.

  The elderly man was not willing to do so. As they reached the heart of Jefferson, they realized they had lost the trail of the other vehicle.

  “It turned down a side street somewheres,” the driver mumbled. “I was watching sharp, but I didn’t see which way it went.”

  “Never mind.” Nancy sighed. “Please drive us to the Jefferson Galleries.”

  It was now after eleven and Nancy feared many of the dolls might have been sold.

  “We’ll have to hurry or we’ll be too late,” she declared. “I hope I haven’t failed Mrs. Struthers.”

  Ten minutes later the girls were at the galleries. The salesrooms were thronged with customers. Nancy was relieved to learn that while nearly all the fine old silver and jewelry had been sold, few of the dolls had been.