The Quest of the Missing Map

by Carolyn G. Keene

  “I hope this’ll work,” she said to herself. “Too bad Hannah and Dad aren’t here so I could tell them my plan.”

  Quickly she changed clothes and brushed some of the powder into her hair, giving it a gray tinge. She combed it to give a scraggly appearance. Fully disguised, Nancy posed in front of the full-length mirror in the hall.

  “Well, Mrs. Frisby, are you ready to do some housecleanin’?” Nancy asked her reflection. Could she trap the thief in this disguise? A broad grin spread across her face as she answered, “Give me a broom and I’ll sweep Doty into jail!”

  In a short while Nancy was on her way. She parked her car in a nice neighborhood several blocks from Doty’s rooming house. Then, hunching her shoulders and lowering her head, she walked the rest of the distance. An untidy landlady answered her knock.

  “What do you want?” she bellowed, glaring at the old woman before her.

  A crude letter holder hung on the wall. Chalked onto it were several names and room numbers. Doty’s was 22.

  “I come t’ clean up Mr. Doty’s room,” Nancy announced. “Kin I start right now? Just tell me where you keep everything and open his door, please. I’ll be in and out in a jiffy.”

  The red-haired woman looked surprised but led Nancy up the sagging stairway. “All the cleaning stuff’s in the closet down the hall. His room’s over there. Door’s always unlocked. I can’t figure that guy. He’s been out for almost two days and wants his room cleaned. For who? The mice?”

  Without waiting for an answer, the landlady started downstairs, leaving Nancy alone. The young sleuth opened the door to Spike Doty’s room. It was shabby and contained only a desk, a bed, and a chair, all piled with old newspapers and torn envelopes. She pretended to straighten up the room, hunting through the papers for a clue to any accomplices of Doty’s or to his whereabouts if he had left town.

  Could she trap the thief in this disguisel Nancy wondered

  “What if he has gone to Little Palm Island!” Nancy frowned at the possibility.

  As she continued to “clean up,” a car stopped in front of the apartment house, but she was unaware of this. Fred and Irene Brown, somewhat disguised, alighted. They presented themselves at the door and inquired about Spike Doty.

  “For someone who’s not around he sure gets enough visitors,” the landlady said irritably.

  “Who else came here?” Fred Brown asked quickly.

  “The cleaning woman for one. Look, I’m getting tired answering questions. Doty’s not here. That’s all I know.”

  “We do hate to take up your time, but could we talk somewhere in private?” Mrs. Brown inquired with exaggerated politeness. “We’re Mr. and Mrs. Fred Brown.”

  As she spoke, a young man brushed past them and started upstairs.

  “Wait a minute, fella. You don’t live here,” the landlady shouted after him.

  “I’m visiting a friend,” he called back, without turning around.

  The annoyed woman threw up her hands in disgust and shook her head, then turned to the couple. “In here,” she said and led them into a small living room.

  The Browns asked a few more questions. “This cleaning woman you mentioned, do you know how we can get in touch with her?” the man asked.

  “You won’t have to go far. She’s still upstairs.”

  At that moment Nancy was about ready to give up what was proving to be a fruitless search.

  “A wasted afternoon!” she admonished herself. “I’d better do a little cleaning before the landlady comes barging in. Or before Doty returns!”

  She had just folded the last newspaper when the knob began turning and the door creaked open.

  CHAPTER XVI

  A Hoax

  “NED! What are you doing here?” Nancy cried in astonishment.

  “I spotted you when you parked your car. In that get-up I knew you were up to something and decided to find out what it was,” Ned answered quickly. “But I didn’t want to interrupt your sleuthing so I stayed behind a distance. Listen, Fred and Irene Brown are downstairs,” he added as a knock came at the door.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” the landlady asked, stepping inside. “I thought you said you were visiting a friend.” She glared at Ned, who did not answer.

  The woman turned to Nancy. “There’s a man and his wife downstairs who want to see you—I don’t know what about!”

  Nancy squeezed Ned’s hand, signaling him to watch her. Without saying a word to each other, they followed the landlady to the first floor.

  As she turned into the living room, Nancy and Ned quickly sidestepped her, dashed outside and got into his car. As they shot away from the curb, Nancy turned to look back. The landlady, anger in her eyes, was flailing her arms wildly at Mr. and Mrs. Brown and shooing them down the front steps.

  “Guess she didn’t like them either,” Nancy thought.

  Ned drove Nancy to the spot where she had parked the convertible, then waved good-by, saying he would see her later.

  Nancy went directly home, and after removing her disguise, glanced through the mail which had been delivered earlier. There was a letter from her Aunt Eloise but most of the envelopes contained advertisements. One, however, was addressed to her in pencil and had been mailed the day before. The message inside had been scrawled on a sheet of cheap tablet paper. It read:Dear Miss Drew: I tuk yer boat

  cus I need money but I can’t sell it.

  You can hev it back for a few bucks.

  It says somethin important inside.

  Don’t tell the cops and come alone

  on foot to 47 White Stret.

  Nancy read the message a second time, then ran to the kitchen to show it to Hannah.

  “This practically shatters one of my best theories!” she declared. “I had a hunch that the ship model had been stolen by Fred and Irene Brown. This note seems to prove I was wrong.”

  “It appears to have been written by a young or poorly educated person,” the housekeeper commented as she looked at the misspelled words. “He signs himself Ted.” After a pause Hannah asked, “What will you do, Nancy?”

  “I don’t know. Strange I didn’t notice anything carved inside the Warwick model.” She paused a moment. “It’s a long distance to White Street, but this note says to come on foot—”

  “Nancy, I can’t permit you to walk through that area!” Hannah Gruen exclaimed.

  “I’ll take the car,” Nancy said. “And maybe I won’t have to go inside the house.”

  Mrs. Gruen did not approve of the mission and begged Nancy to be careful. The young detective was well on her way to White Street when it occurred to her it was odd that Ted knew her name and address.

  She had no intention of walking into a trap and made up her mind she would not enter the house. Instead, she would insist that the ship model be brought to her.

  As Nancy pulled up before Number 47, a shabby, old-fashioned house, she saw a boy with a sharp, taut face seated on the porch. Evidently he had been expecting her, because he quickly came to the car.

  “Are you Ted?” she asked, trying not to seem unfriendly.

  “That’s me,” he answered gruffly, “but you was supposed to come on foot. You want the boat?”

  “Yes I do, Ted. May I ask why you stole it from my car?”

  “You kin ask all you want but I ain’t givin’ no answers,” the boy retorted saucily. “The boat’s upstairs.”

  “You must bring it to me.”

  “Grandma won’t let it go without the money,” the boy said stubbornly. “She’s sick in bed and we need the cash. If you want to see the ship, you gotta come upstairs.”

  Nancy was in a quandary. A chance to obtain the needed information on the exact location of the treasure might be lost! Reluctantly she climbed up a flight of worn stairs through a dark hall to a wood-paneled bedroom.

  “Grandma, this is the girl,” Ted said by way of introduction.

  He disappeared, closing the door behind him. Nancy was startled by his sudden de
parture but tried not to show alarm. She attempted to reassure herself that nothing seemed amiss. The Warwick was in plain sight on the table beside the bed.

  “How much money you got on you?” the elderly woman asked in a squeaky voice, her face half hidden under the covers.

  Nancy opened her purse and pulled out several bills.

  A gleam of satisfaction lit up the old lady’s eyes as she reached for the money. “The ship’s yours. Only promise you won’t make trouble for Ted.”

  “Very well,” Nancy consented, and turned from the bed to lift the model from the table.

  Instantly the elderly woman threw off the covers and leaped from bed. Irene Brown!

  Simultaneously, Fred Brown appeared from inside a closet and tried to pin Nancy’s arms behind her. As she struggled violently, the ship crashed to the floor.

  Although Nancy fought with all her strength, she was no match for her assailants. In a moment they held her fast.

  “The clever Miss Drew wasn’t so smart this time!” the man gloated, taking a handkerchief from his pocket to gag her.

  Securely bound, Nancy was shoved through a closet with a concealed door which connected with an adjoining vacant house. She was seated at a table and told to write a letter to Hannah Gruen. Nancy was to request that the piece of map found in the ship model be sent to her at once.

  “Don’t try to get away with anything in this letter,” Fred Brown threatened.

  In despair, Nancy slowly composed the message. She knew she could not include anything that would indicate her true predicament. There was just one faint hope of outwitting the sinister couple. Accordingly she wrote: Please give bearer the copy of the map found in the ship model.

  Nancy

  “Perhaps if I concentrate very hard, I can get a thought wave to Hannah, so she’ll make a copy—but not an exact one,” Nancy told herself. “It’s my one hope.”

  Unknown to Nancy, Mr. Drew and Ned already were alarmed over her long absence from home. Informed by the worried housekeeper that Nancy had gone to the White Street address, they set off in Ned’s car to search for her.

  “It isn’t like Nancy to stay away so long without any explanation,” the lawyer declared as Ned parked at the curb. “She may have walked into a trap.”

  As they rang the doorbell again and again Ned remarked that Nancy’s car was not in sight. He knocked on the door several times but received no response.

  At last Mr. Drew became impatient. Trying the door and finding it unlocked, he entered with Ned close behind.

  “Why, this place is deserted,” he observed as they looked into the empty first-floor rooms. “We do have the correct address, I hope.”

  “This is it all right. How about upstairs?” Ned asked, leading the way this time.

  The first door confronting him opened into the bedroom where Nancy had been taken prisoner. Before them was an overturned chair and lying beside it the broken model of the Warwick!

  “There has been a struggle!” Mr. Drew exclaimed, losing his usual calm. “Something has happened to Nancy!”

  With increasing alarm he and Ned searched the entire house but found no trace of the missing girl. While Mr. Drew continued to look for clues in the room where the struggle had taken place, Ned went to question the neighbors. He returned with a discouraging report.

  “I couldn’t contact anyone, Mr. Drew. Must have rung four or five doorbells, too. The place next to this one is vacant.”

  “To the east or on the west side?” the lawyer asked.

  “The east. It adjoins this room.”

  Mr. Drew had been fingering a small object which he now showed the young man. It was an ornamental pin from a dress.

  “I picked this up from the floor of the closet,” the lawyer explained. “I have a hunch it came from Nancy’s dress and she dropped it as a clue. Ned, suppose you call Hannah Gruen and ask her if Nancy was wearing the pin when she left.”

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” Ned said, starting away. “Maybe Nancy has arrived home since we left.”

  Carson Drew was not so optimistic as he returned to his investigation of the closet. He found something which previously had escaped his attention. Although skillfully disguised with wallpaper, the back of the closet was made of wood instead of plaster. When he tapped his knuckles against it, there was a hollow sound.

  “It’s a door!” he exclaimed. “The pattern of the paper hides the outline!”

  Mr. Drew pushed hard on the panel but could not budge it. Again and again he tried but to no avail.

  He was mulling over the problem when Ned returned and reported, “The pin was on Nancy’s dress. And she hasn’t come home.”

  “There’s no question about it, Ned. Nancy has been captured. I’m positive she was taken through this sliding panel to the next house.”

  “What!” Ned exclaimed.

  “The panel has been locked on the other side. I’ve tried to get it open but—”

  “Let’s break it down,” the young man urged.

  “And tip off the kidnappers? No, I think we’d better proceed quietly,” Mr. Drew answered. Just then he spied a small keyhole. “This is an ordinary lock,” he said.

  From his pocket he took a bunch of keys. One by one he tried them. The next to the last unlocked the door.

  Never dreaming that her father and Ned were so close, Nancy remained alone in a tiny third-floor storeroom, ventilated by only one small window. She sat on an old wooden chair, gagged and tied so tightly her bones ached.

  “If only something good would happen!” she thought unhappily. “What will Hannah do when she gets my note?”

  At that very moment Irene Brown was ringing the doorbell of the Drew home. Behind the hedge her husband watched, pleased with himself. No one but the housekeeper was at home, he knew, and should she become suspicious, she could not call for help. He had just cut the telephone wire.

  His wife greeted Mrs. Gruen pleasantly and said, “I have a note for you from Miss Drew. I don’t know what it says, but she asked me to wait for an answer.”

  “Will you come inside?” Hannah asked.

  CHAPTER XVII

  Puzzling Paper

  AFTER thoroughly searching the vacant house, Carson Drew and Ned were ready to give up. They had found no trace of Nancy.

  “I was so sure she was here,” the lawyer declared. He and Ned had reached the attic floor, which was dark and suffocatingly stuffy. “But maybe she was taken to another hideout.”

  “Listen!” Ned said.

  They could hear a distinct scratching noise, as if someone were clawing against a plaster wall. Tracing the sound, Mr. Drew saw a door in a dingy corner of the room.

  “Maybe she’s in there!” he exclaimed, pulling at the knob.

  Nancy, bound and gagged, stared in disbelief. Ned tore off the handkerchief while Mr. Drew untied her bonds.

  “Are you okay?” he asked apprehensively. “You look pale.”

  “I’m all right,” she assured him and her father, “but I’m afraid we’ve run into a real calamity.”

  “What do you mean?” Mr. Drew asked.

  “The Browns made me write a note to Hannah ordering her to deliver Captain Tomlin’s map to them.”

  “How long ago was that, Nancy?” her father inquired quickly.

  “At least half an hour.” “Perhaps we can catch them!” Carson Drew exclaimed.

  Leaving Ned to look for Nancy’s car, he and his daughter drove home at top speed. Entering the house, they discovered Hannah Gruen down on her knees examining the telephone.

  “Nancy, you’re safe!” she exclaimed joyfully. “Oh, I’m so relieved.”

  “Did someone come here with a note from me?” Nancy asked anxiously.

  “Yes, a woman. She left about ten minutes ago.”

  “That was Irene Brown!”

  “I guessed as much, so I tried to call the police, but the telephone wires had been cut.”

  “You gave her the map?” Nancy asked.


  “That was what you requested me to do,” the housekeeper responded.

  “Yes, I did. Oh, I can’t blame you. You had no way of knowing that I didn’t want you to carry out the instructions.”

  “All the same, I guessed it from the wording in your note,” the housekeeper declared, ending the suspense. “I gave Mrs. Brown a map, but it will never do her and her husband any good. And it serves them right.”

  “Oh, Hannah, you’re wonderful!” Nancy laughed happily and hugged her. “How did you manage to outwit her?”

  “It was very easy. I knew you kept both sections of the map in your desk—Captain Tomlin’s original and the copy of Mr. Smith’s portion. I found an old piece of parchment in the desk and tore it diagonally. Then I quickly traced the original, leaving out many details and making several changes!”

  “Mrs. Brown never once suspected?” Nancy asked, chuckling.

  “No, she must have thought what I gave her was genuine, because she thanked me sweetly and went away.”

  “Hannah, you’re as clever as any detective of my acquaintance,” Mr. Drew said with a grin.

  “I’m really grateful,” Nancy added.

  “There’s just one thing that troubles me,” Hannah said. “I copied the name of the island on the paper.”

  “Let’s not worry about that,” said Mr. Drew, “since you left out some of the directions.”

  While the housekeeper was preparing a late dinner, Mr. Drew went to a neighbor’s and called the telephone company to report the cut wire. A repairman was sent at once and within a short time the Drews’ phone was back in service.

  As they finished dinner the telephone rang and Nancy rose to answer it. She recognized Ned’s voice.

  “Hello, Nancy,” he said, talking hurriedly. “I found your car. I’ll bring it over as soon as I can. Right now I’m at the police station, and Chief McGinnis wants you to come at once.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes. Fred and Irene Brown have been taken into custody. The chief wants an identification.”

  “Be there in a minute. ‘Bye.”

  Nancy and her father went immediately to the police station. To their delight they learned that Ned had led the police to 47 White Street and aided them in nabbing the Browns when the couple had returned to release Nancy.