“Oh, you have a half hour,” Mrs. Hodge said.
“I’ll make it,” George said and dashed up the steps two at a time.
Everyone wanted to go and went to their rooms to put on more appropriate clothes than the sports outfits they were wearing. Nancy was ready first and came back downstairs to show Mrs. Hodge the shell.
“Do you know what it is? I love the color of it.”
“No, I don’t,” the woman replied, “but there’s a book on shells in the living-room bookcase. Look on the shelf where the paperbacks are.”
Nancy located the book easily and turned the pages until she found a picture of a shell like the one in her hand.
“There is a large family of shells called Cypraea,” the book stated. “Their common name is cowries. These shells are highly prized by the natives in the Fiji Islands of the Pacific. At one time the chief wore a cowrie as a badge of his office and nobody else was allowed to.”
She read on. From what she learned, Nancy told herself, “This must be a Cypraea aurantium, or golden cowrie.” The article said the shells were so rare that the government had put a ban on the sale of them outside the islands.
“Then there’s no chance of my getting one,” Nancy thought.
At that moment Ned appeared and she told him what the book said about the rare shell.
“I’m sure that whoever lost this one will return to the pit and try to retrieve it. Let’s go back there after dinner and do a little spying,” she suggested.
“I’m game,” he said. “I only hope the person we want to see hasn’t come and gone before we get there.”
Nancy sighed. “I guess we’ll have to take that chance.”
Although she doubted that the Prizers would show up at church, nevertheless at the beginning of the service Nancy looked carefully at each person in the congregation. No one present resembled the Prizers.
Nancy gave full attention to the sermon on the text, Thou shalt not steal. The listeners were reminded that there are many types of stealing besides taking other people’s property. They included stealing another’s time, good reputation, and a person’s happiness. Nancy could not help but think of the Prizers.
When the service was over, she suggested a drive around the small town of Middleburg. “Maybe we can spot something to help us solve the mystery.” But no leads turned up.
“This is certainly a nice, peaceful country town,” Bess remarked. “I hope those awful Prizers don’t come here and upset things.”
Two hours later, when the ghost hunters had finished dinner, Nancy’s group walked back to the pit in the woods. They could see no evidence that anyone had been there.
“Maybe we’re not too late to nab a person coming to look for the shell,” Burt remarked.
The watchers rearranged the brush to look as it had before George tumbled in. Then each chose a tree behind which to hide.
The wait seemed interminable. The boys grew restless and Nancy could see them doing some stretching and jumping exercises.
Presently there came a loud “Ouch!” from Bess and she called to the others, “I got stung!”
George hushed her cousin. “Put some mud on it and for goodness sake keep quiet,” she said. “You’ll ruin our chance of capturing anyone coming here.”
Bess subsided. She was close to a little stream and scooped up a small quantity of mud to plaster the sting on her arm.
Time seemed to pass slowly. Again and again the young people glanced at their wrist watches. Dave was about to call it quits when they heard a sound not far away. Footsteps!
The six spies remained hidden but kept their eyes on the path. A boy about sixteen years old was coming in their direction. He was nice looking and well dressed.
“Surely he isn’t the person we’re searching for,” Nancy told herself.
The boy stopped when he reached the brush-covered hole. He stood looking at it for several seconds, then leaned down and began throwing the twigs and branches aside.
“Someone must have sent him here to get the shell,” Nancy thought.
The hidden watchers had arranged beforehand that if anyone came to the hole, at a signal from Nancy they would surround him. Now she raised her arm and brought it down again.
Moving stealthily, the six young people stepped from hiding and took positions around the boy. They had been so quiet that he was completely unaware of their presence.
He jumped in fright when Ned said to him, “What are you looking for?”
CHAPTER XV
Outwitted
THE startled boy cried out. “I—Who—?” he stammered.
Seeing that he was surrounded, a look of fear came into his eyes. But in a moment he regained his composure.
“I—I’m just searching for rabbits,” the boy answered Ned. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
George spoke up. “Did you expect to find them down in the hole?”
“Sure. Why not?”
Nancy walked up to the boy and looked him straight in the eye. “Are you telling the truth?” she asked. “I have an idea you’re looking for something else.”
“Suppose I am?” he asked.
Nancy decided to take the plunge. “By any chance are you searching for a shell?” she asked.
The boy jumped in astonishment. His bravado vanished. He said in a trembling voice, “How did you know?”
“I found it myself,” she said. “Who owns the shell?”
“I don’t know,” the boy said. “And that’s the truth. My name’s Steve Rover and I live in Middleburg. A tall, thin guy came up to me and asked if I would like to earn a little money.”
When Steve paused, Nancy prompted him. “He offered to pay you to find the shell?”
The boy nodded. “The man didn’t tell me who he was, just said he’d fallen into the hole and hurt his ankle. He couldn’t walk far. That’s why I came.”
“How did you get out here?” Nancy queried.
Steve said the man had driven him to the edge of the woods and he had hiked in from there. “He’s waiting for me. I don’t know what he’ll say when I don’t bring the shell.”
Ned spoke up. “We’ll go with you but stay out of sight. If this fellow is the man we think he is, it would be best if you appear to be alone. But after that don’t have anything to do with him.”
Ned, Burt, and Dave would precede the others and hide, ready to pounce on the man as soon as Steve reached the car. The three girls for reasons of safety were to bring up the rear.
“Also,” Nancy thought, “if we’re all watching him, Steve won’t have any chance to double-cross us by running away.”
Ned and his companions halted at the edge of the highway but kept themselves well screened by the trees. A car stood there but no one was in it. Their eyes roamed the woods on both sides of the road but they saw no one.
“I wonder where the man is,” Ned asked himself.
In a few minutes Steve came sauntering along. Ned surmised that the boy was frightened, but he kept going. Steve walked out to the car, opened the front door, and climbed in. He had barely closed the door and sat down, when he moved over into the driver’s seat.
“That’s funny,” Nancy whispered as she came up to where Ned was hiding.
“Maybe it’s some kind of a trick,” Ned said.
The next moment Steve started the motor. At once he shifted into gear and started down the road.
“Oh no!” cried Bess as she and George joined the group. “He put it over on us!”
At that very second the watchers saw a figure rise up from the floor of the rear seat. The man was tall, slender, and had bushy hair!
“Prizer!” Burt shouted in disgust. “He sure outwitted us.”
“Yes,” Nancy said, “but at least he didn’t retrieve the shell. We’ll give that bit of evidence to the police.”
As the car roared off, the young people made notes of its make, model, and license number.
“It should be easy for the police to pick him
up,” Dave remarked.
“Yes,” Burt agreed, “but by the time we can telephone them, Prizer could be far away and have different license plates on the car.”
“What will we do?” George asked.
Nancy suggested that they hike down the road. “At the first house we come to, we’ll ask to use the phone.”
The six young people strode along at a fast pace but continued to talk about the clever way Prizer had eluded them.
“When Steve got in the car,” said Nancy, “I suppose Prizer ordered him to drive away. He probably was told he would be harmed if he didn’t go whizzing off.”
“I wonder if Steve will tell him about us,” Bess said.
“I hope not,” George retorted. “If Prizer finds out we have the shell, he may do something drastic to get it back.”
It was a long, hot walk to the next house. The family who lived there was seated on the lawn. They greeted the group affably and said their name was Sutton.
“You look hot,” Mrs. Sutton spoke up. “Would you like some cool drinks?”
“Thank you. That would be very welcome,” Nancy replied. “But first I’d like to use your telephone to call the police. We saw a rather peculiar incident on the road about a mile from here and we’d like to report it.”
Mrs. Sutton led Nancy into the house and showed Nancy where the telephone was. In the meantime, the woman went to the kitchen and poured six tall glasses of fruit juice and filled a plate with homemade cookies.
When she and Nancy returned to the lawn, the young people sat down on the grass and began to sip the cool drink. Nancy asked the family if they knew Steve Rover in Middleburg.
One of the daughters answered. “I know Steve. He was in high school with me, but he dropped out. He’s okay, but he hates school.”
Mr. Sutton spoke up. “Yes, Barby, and he hates work evidently, from what I hear in town.”
“We have our fingers crossed that he isn’t in any trouble,” Nancy went on. Briefly she told about Steve and the man in the car.
Barby’s eyes widened. “You mean that man might harm Steve? Oh, I hope not!”
“We hope not too,” said Nancy. “But I’m worried.”
The refreshments and few minutes of relaxation restored the hikers’ vigor. Ned asked if by any chance there might be a shortcut back to the Red Barn Guesthouse.
“You’re from that place?” Mrs. Sutton asked. “I hear that ghost horse has started appearing again and nobody will stay there any more.”
“Unfortunately that’s true,” Nancy told her. She smiled. “We hope to solve the mystery because we don’t think it’s really a phantom horse and rider. Probably someone is trying to frighten Mrs. Hodge.”
“But why?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” said Nancy. The young sleuth did not feel that she should say anything about her suspicions that Prizer was trying to get the property at a low price.
Mr. Sutton said, “I wish you luck. Well, about a shortcut. Half a mile farther from here you’ll see a dirt road on your right. Take that and it will bring you out a short distance from the guesthouse. You’ll be able to see it from the road.”
The young people thanked the Suttons for their hospitality and started off. After they had hiked along the dirt road for some distance, Dave began to laugh.
“What’s that old saying about the longest way ‘round is the shortest way home, or is it the shortest way ’round is the longest way home? Anyway, this is the longest shortcut I’ve ever taken.”
The six trudged on, and finally came to the end of the dirt road. As Mr. Sutton had said, they could see the Red Barn Guesthouse in the distance and turned toward it.
They found Mrs. Hodge very upset. It was evident she had been crying. Bess went up to her and put an arm around the woman’s waist.
“Something’s happened! What is it?” Bess asked.
Tearfully Mrs. Hodge replied, “I drove into town to call on a friend right after dinner. When I returned, I found the house had been ransacked!”
CHAPTER XVI
Aim! Fire!
“How dreadful!” Bess exclaimed. “Did the burglar take much?”
“I don’t know,” Mrs. Hodge replied. “I got here only a few minutes ago.”
“I’m terribly sorry,” Nancy spoke up. “Weren’t any of our friends at home?”
“No, everyone was out. Oh dear! What shall I do now?”
Nancy told her that the police should be notified immediately. “Would you like me to make the call?”
After reporting the burglary, Nancy and her friends went upstairs to see if the thief had tampered with their luggage. Clothes and cosmetics were strewn about the floor. A quick check indicated that nothing had been taken.
“He must’ve been looking for something special,” George remarked. “Nancy, what do you think it was?”
Nancy shrugged. “Possibly the shell. Prizer may have forced Steve to tell him that we’d found it. I had it well hidden under the lining of my suitcase.”
Bess looked skeptical. “But if he thought we had it, why did he ransack Mrs. Hodge’s possessions?”
“I wish I knew the answer,” said Nancy. “Let’s go downstairs and see if we can help Mrs. Hodge. She’s had so much trouble it doesn’t seem fair for any more to be heaped on her.”
They found the woman in the living room. She looked up, a puzzled expression on her face.
“Nothing much was taken,” she said. “Just a little money and jewelry. I don’t understand it.”
The boys had come into the room and Ned suggested that the burglar was looking for some particular thing of value to him.
“But what could it be?” Mrs. Hodge asked.
“Do you own anything rare and worth a lot of money?” Burt queried.
Mrs. Hodge shook her head. “After my husband’s death, I sold everything of value.”
Nancy gazed thoughtfully around the room. She noticed an old file box on the floor in a corner. It had been opened and the papers rifled.
“Was there anything valuable in there?” Nancy asked.
Suddenly Mrs. Hodge clutched her throat. “Yes. The deed to this property!”
She dropped to her knees and began looking through the papers hurriedly. Nancy knelt beside her to help.
Finally Mrs. Hodge sat down on the floor, looking pathetically forlorn. “It’s gone! The deed to this farm has been stolen!”
“So that’s what the burglar was looking for,” Bess spoke up. “Oh, Mrs. Hodge, I’m dreadfully sorry. What will you do?”
During this conversation Nancy’s thoughts had turned to Wilbur Prizer. She felt sure he had planned the theft. The man, posing as a realtor, intended to use the deed in some way to get the Red Barn.
A few minutes later two police officers arrived. After hearing the story, one remarked, “Stealing a deed is a major offense. Mrs. Hodge, have you any idea who might have done it?”
“No, I haven’t, but Nancy Drew here has.”
When the young detective gave the name of the suspect, the officer who had introduced himself as Lieutenant Sanford said, “Wilbur Prizer is the same person you telephoned us about a few hours ago.”
“That’s right,” Nancy replied. “We think he is personally responsible for the ghostly happenings in certain places so he can force the owner to sell.
“He apparently also steals shell collections and Madame Tarantella is involved. I found a cowrie with her initials on it.” Nancy said she would turn the shell over to him and went to get it.
When she returned Sanford looked at her in amazement. “You’re an amateur detective, aren’t you? Haven’t I read about you in the newspapers?”
Nancy blushed and admitted that some of the mysteries she had solved had been publicized. Quickly changing the subject, she asked:
“Is there any news about Steve Rover and the car he went away in?”
“Yes,” Sanford replied. “The car was found abandoned. It had been stolen. Neither the ma
n you saw nor Steve Rover has been seen.”
Bess caught her breath. “You mean Steve hasn’t returned home?”
The officer said No and his mother was frantic.
“No doubt the man who hired him to look for the shell learned about his meeting you in the woods. At this point that fellow Prizer probably decided it would be too dangerous to let Steve go.”
“I feel so sorry for his mother,” said Bess. “Oh, I hope that horrible Wilbur Prizer doesn’t hurt him.”
The policeman assured the group that every effort was being made to find the boy. The officers agreed that Prizer or one of his pals had come to the Hodge home with a dual purpose: to find the shell which had some special meaning to him and to steal the deed to the property.
The officers spent some time in the farmhouse searching for clues. Nancy watched them, fascinated, and picked up a couple of points which she felt might be useful in her own future investigations.
The two officers made several notes in their report books, but were not able to get any fingerprints or footprints. Sanford remarked, “Evidently the burglar walked around in stocking feet and had gloves on.”
He opened a kit and took out a strong magnifying glass to examine the floor in Mrs. Hodge’s bedroom. Presently he picked up a hair, then a speck of mud.
“The burglar has dark, bushy hair,” he announced. “And he may be staying near a stream where ferns are growing.” The officer looked at Nancy. “I’d say he has a bad temper and stomps his foot hard when he’s mad or frustrated. The fellow crushed fern leaves into the mud on his shoes.”
The policemen got ready to leave. “I’ll let you know what else we find out,” Sanford promised.
Shortly afterward, the other ghost hunters came in and were greatly upset when they heard of Mrs. Hodge’s loss. After checking their own belongings, they reported that nothing had been taken.
There had been so much excitement that supper had been forgotten. The girls offered to prepare the meal. At first Mrs. Hodge protested she could not allow paying guests to do this, but after a little persuasion she consented.
They had just finished eating when the telephone rang. Ned answered it but called Nancy, saying that her father was on the wire.
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