The Bungalow Mystery

by Carolyn G. Keene

  “I’m going to find out!” Nancy declared excitedly.

  Eagerly she reached into the pocket of her dress, recalling that at dinner she had taken a pack of matches from the hotel dining table for her souvenir collection. Good! The pack was still there!

  Striking a match she was pleased to discover that the lantern was half full of oil. Someone had used it recently, for the glass was clean. Nancy lighted the wick and a flame spurted up. Carrying the lantern, she returned to the trap door.

  Suddenly, from below, Nancy heard a moan of pain. This was followed by a pitiful cry of “Help!”

  “That settles it,” the worried girl thought.

  As she descended the steps, the lantern’s flickering glow revealed that the cellar was dungeon-like, with solid stone walls and no windows.

  From below came a pitiful cry of “Help!”

  She held the light high above the figure on the bench. A man, deathly pale, was lying where she had first seen him.

  But he was not Laura’s guardian!

  “There’s certainly a startling resemblance, though,” Nancy thought, her heart filled with pity for this unfortunate stranger.

  Dropping to her knees, she felt his pulse. It was faint but regular.

  “He’s just unconscious,” she told herself in relief.

  At the same time, Nancy saw with horror a large chain around the man’s waist. It was attached to the prisoner in such a way that it allowed him some freedom of motion and yet held him captive. Was Jacob Aborn responsible for this atrocity? Nancy wondered angrily.

  “I must do something to revive this man,” she decided, “and get him away from here.”

  Picking up the lantern, Nancy mounted the cellar steps two at a time. She headed for a small sink in one corner of the room above, where she had seen a pump.

  After a search through the cupboard she at last found a battered tin cup. Quickly pumping water into it, she returned to the cellar.

  Nancy wet her handkerchief and applied it gently to the prisoner’s forehead. Then she sprinkled a little of the water on his face and chafed his wrists. The man stirred slightly and moaned.

  As she gazed anxiously into his face, Nancy wondered how she could have mistaken him for Jacob Aborn. Although the two men were of the same age, and had similar facial characteristics, the prisoner was gaunt and thin. His features, contrary to Mr. Aborn’s, were gentle and relaxed.

  Now Nancy saw that the man was slowly regaining consciousness. As his eyes fluttered open he cried “Help!” feebly, then stared into Nancy’s face, amazed.

  “Help has come,” Nancy said quietly.

  The man attempted to raise himself to a sitting position with Nancy’s aid. “Didn’t—think—help —would—ever come,” he murmured. Then he saw the cup in Nancy’s hand and asked for water.

  Nancy steadied the cup while he drank. Finally the man leaned against the wall. “First water I’ve had in twenty-four hours,” he said more clearly.

  The young sleuth was horrified. She introduced herself, then asked, “Who are you—and who did this terrible thing to you?”

  A bitter expression passed over the prisoner’s face. “I’m Jacob Aborn,” he said. “A crook by the name of Stumpy Dowd took over my house, imprisoned me here, and somehow or other arranged for my new ward, Laura Pendleton, to come to my home earlier than she was expected. Yesterday he told me that he had the girl’s inheritance in his possession—and showed bonds to prove it.”

  “You’re Jacob Aborn!” Nancy repeated, as the prisoner, exhausted by these words, leaned against the wall.

  Quickly Nancy’s mind flashed back to everything that had happened since she had met Laura. The puzzling questions that had bothered her about the girl’s guardian now became clear. Most of all, it was a relief to know that the person to whom Marie Pendleton had entrusted her daughter’s care was not a criminal.

  Equally important, Nancy realized that Stephen Dowd—alias Stumpy—used his talent as an actor and skill with make-up to fool other people, and then probably swindled them. The young sleuth wondered if there was a tie-in between Laura’s inheritance and the Monroe National Bank thefts of stocks and bonds. She must find out from Jacob Aborn, but the police should be notified immediately, as well as her father.

  Aloud Nancy said, “I want to hear the whole story of what has happened to you, Mr. Aborn, but first—”

  Briefly, she told of having met the man who had impersonated him and of seeing Laura at Twin Lakes. Nancy was about to add that Laura was now at her home when Mr. Aborn said:

  “If Stumpy caught you here once today we’d better get out right now!” He told Nancy that Dowd kept the key to the padlock on his chains on a hook near the stairway.

  “This is a lucky break,” said Nancy. She snatched the lantern from the floor and started toward the stairs.

  “Please hurry,” Mr. Aborn said faintly. “Stumpy Dowd is a dangerous criminal! He boasted to me that he and his accomplices have victimized several people besides Laura!”

  Nancy anxiously moved the lantern up and down, illuminating the dingy walls. Just above her head to the left she finally saw the hook, with a key dangling from it.

  “I have it!” she exclaimed triumphantly.

  As Nancy hurried back to Mr. Aborn’s side she speculated on how the Dowds had found out about Mr. Aborn, his wife, and Laura.

  “I’ll have you free in a minute, Mr. Aborn,” Nancy said, as she stooped over the bench.

  While she worked on the rusty lock, Nancy asked if he had known the Dowds previously.

  “Yes,” he replied. “Mrs. Dowd was hired by my wife as a maid to come when we arrived. Soon after I reached the house her husband came. He grew quite loud and abusive and when I objected he knocked me unconscious. When I came to, I was chained in this cellar.”

  “How dreadful!” Nancy exclaimed. “But where is your wife?” she asked.

  “She had to go to Florida unexpectedly. Her mother, who lives there, had an emergency operation. Marian went down to be with her and I moved into our new home.” Mr. Aborn sighed. “Of course I haven’t heard a word from her since I’ve been tied up here!”

  “You’ll be able to find out about her now,” Nancy assured him. “Do you know how many people are working with Stumpy Dowd?”

  “One or two others besides his wife, I believe. Stumpy Dowd is secretive about some things, although he boasted a lot. I did hear him mention the name Fred, but I don’t know who he is.”

  When the padlock finally snapped open Nancy’s spirits soared. Now the suitcase of securities that Stumpy Dowd had packed could be retrieved. The criminals could be apprehended and her father’s case perhaps solved!

  Meanwhile, neither Nancy nor Mr. Aborn had noticed a dark figure creeping slowly down the steps. Near and nearer the man came, a stout cane gripped tightly in his right hand.

  “That’s wonderful, Nancy!” Mr. Aborn exclaimed. “Now if I just knew where Laura is.” As he spoke Mr. Aborn glanced up. A look of horror froze his face.

  “Look out, Nancy!” he shouted.

  CHAPTER XIV

  A Desperate Situation

  THE WARNING came too late. Before Nancy could turn, the end of the cane crashed down on her head. With a low moan of pain, she sagged to the floor and lay still.

  How long she remained unconscious, the young sleuth did not know.When at last she opened her eyes Nancy found herself stretched out on the cold floor of the cellar. Bewildered, it was a full minute before she could account for the splitting pain in her head.

  Then, with a shudder, the young sleuth remembered what had happened. She had been struck down from behind. Who was her assailant?

  Nancy became aware that someone was standing over her, but objects whirled before her eyes and she could not distinguish the face. Then, gradually, her vision cleared. She saw Stumpy Dowd gazing down upon her, a satisfied leer on his face.

  “Well, Miss Drew,” he said mockingly, “we meet again. You’ve gotten in my way once too
often!”

  As Nancy started to speak, Dowd reached down. Catching Nancy by an arm, he jerked her roughly to her feet. Nancy was so weak that she nearly fell over.

  Nevertheless, with a show of spirit, she said, “You’ll regret this, I promise you!”

  “Let the girl go,” Jacob Aborn pleaded from the other side of the room. “Do anything you like to me, but set her free.” Nancy saw that he was again padlocked.

  Stumpy Dowd glared at his other prisoner. “It’s quite impossible for me to release either of you,” he said calmly. “You see, you both know too much.”

  Nancy was aware that resistance would be useless. Right now she did not have the strength to make a break for the stairs. But as the criminal began to unwind a long rope, Nancy realized that unless she thought of something the situation would be desperate. There would be no way to escape!

  As Stumpy began to bind Nancy’s feet together he said sarcastically, “Mr. Aborn will enjoy having company. And you two have so much to talk about.”

  An idea suddenly came to Nancy. She remembered that a detective who had called on her father a few months before had told her how it was possible to hold one’s hands while being bound so as to slip the bonds later. He had given a demonstration.

  “If I can only remember the correct position,” Nancy prayed fervently.

  When Dowd began to bind Nancy’s wrists she tried to follow the detective’s instructions. As the ropes cut into her flesh it seemed to Nancy that she must have made a mistake. Certainly there was little space between her wrists and the bonds.

  “And now, just to make sure you won’t get away—” Stumpy muttered with a sneer.

  He took the end of the rope and ran it through a ring in the wall, knotting the rope fast.

  “I guess that will hold you for a while and teach you not to meddle in affairs that are none of your business!” the man added.

  Nancy Drew had never been so angry in her life, but she realized that any argument she might give would only provoke the man to further torture. So she set her jaw grimly and kept still.

  “You’ll pay for this, Dowd!” Jacob Aborn spoke up in a quavering voice. “When I get free—”

  “When you get free!” Stumpy Dowd taunted. “That’s a laugh. Why, you fool, how do you propose to get help? If it hadn’t been for this meddlesome Drew girl only the rats would have known you were here!”

  Nancy could not help but remark quietly, “The police will catch you in the end.”

  “I doubt it,” Dowd said with confidence. “I’ve covered my trail thoroughly. I’ve made plans to leave the country and I’d like to see the police or anyone else catch me!” He turned to Laura’s guardian. “First, of course, we’ll have to get the jewels away from Laura.”

  “How do you propose to do that,” Nancy asked quickly, “when you don’t know where she is?”

  Stumpy Dowd laughed. “That’s what you think. Laura is at your home in River Heights, Nancy Drewl”

  As Nancy blinked, a look of horror came into Mr. Aborn’s eyes. Nancy knew he was wondering why she had not mentioned Laura’s being at her home. Also, he realized that his last hope of keeping Laura’s whereabouts unknown was gone.

  Nancy, too, was worried. What did Stumpy plan to do? Right now, he looked pleased at his prisoners’ reactions.

  “My wife overheard Laura placing a call to Nancy Drew in River Heights yesterday morning. When Laura ran away, we had a hunch she would go there. I asked my detective to find out.”

  Dowd said the sleuth had seen Laura leaving the house that afternoon with a young man. “I presume she left her jewels behind,” he added. “But we’ll get them before we leave this area!”

  “Don’t try anything foolish,” Nancy warned.

  “All my plans are well made,” Dowd said coolly. “Too bad you aren’t more cautious, Miss Drew.”

  He said that his wife had felt a draft in the house and gone downstairs to find the front door part way open. Then she had seen a girl heading into the woods and had awakened him. Dowd had figured out that it might be Nancy.

  “That’s the end of my story,” he said, “except to tell you, Aborn, I sold your blue sedan this morning. The money helped pay for my new foreign car.”

  Jacob Aborn was so furious he almost choked. “You robber! You kidnaper!” he cried out.

  “Tut, tut, none of that!” Dowd said. “You’ll get your blood pressure up.”

  “Laura’s not in your clutches, and she won’t get there!” Aborn stormed. “And I can support her without any inheritance!”

  Dowd shrugged. “It won’t do any good to threaten me. You’re my prisoner and don’t forget it! After the jewels are mine—”

  Nancy felt as if she would choke with rage. Mr. Aborn closed his eyes and seemed to have fainted.

  Meanwhile, Stumpy Dowd had replaced the key on the wall—the hook supporting it, Nancy saw, was far out of the two prisoners’ reach.

  “You can think of this in the days ahead,” the crook taunted. “And now—good-by!”

  Turning, he ambled up the steps. Nancy heard mocking laughter as the trap door was slammed shut. Soon a deathlike quiet fell on the shack.

  “Mr. Aborn!” Nancy called.

  There was no answer. Nancy’s heart beat wildly. Was the man only in a faint or had something worse happened to him?

  Holding her breath, she strained her ears to see if she could detect any sign of life. A few seconds later Nancy caught faint sounds of inhaling and exhaling.

  “Thank goodness,” she thought.

  Presently the man stirred, and regaining consciousness, looked about. Seeing Nancy, he exclaimed, “Now I remember! We were so near freedom.”

  “Yes, we were, Mr. Aborn. And we may get out of here yet. I’m trying to slip this rope off my wrists. In the meantime, I want to tell you why I didn’t mention that Laura is at my home. I was about to do so when you urged that we leave the shack as fast as possible.”

  “I see and I forgive you,” said Mr. Aborn. “Never having met you, Dowd’s announcement gave me a momentary feeling of distrust in you. But that’s gone now.”

  “Then would you mind telling me about Laura’s mother and the estate she left?” Nancy requested, as she worked to free her hands.

  “I’ll be glad to. Mrs. Pendleton appointed the Monroe National Bank executor of her estate and me as Laura’s guardian. During Mrs. Pendleton’s long illness she had all her securities taken from her private safe-deposit box and put in care of the bank. They were turned over to the custodian department and kept in the bank’s personal vault.”

  “Then how could Stumpy Dowd get them?” Nancy asked.

  “That’s the mystery. He didn’t say.”

  Nancy was convinced now that a good portion of Laura’s inheritance must be among the securities stolen from the bank. She asked whether Mrs. Pendleton had left a large estate.

  Mr. Aborn nodded. “Laura is a very wealthy young woman,” he said, then went on to explain that at the time of Mrs. Pendleton’s death, the Aborns were abroad. Upon their arrival in New York, Mrs. Aborn had received word of her mother’s illness. It was then that Laura had been asked to postpone coming to Melrose Lake until his wife’s return.

  “Laura was staying on at her boarding school with the headmistress until our trip to Melrose.”

  “She never received your letter,” Nancy told him. “The Dowds must have intercepted it. Soon they told her to come.”

  Just then Nancy thought she had found the trick to freeing her hands, but a moment later she sighed in discouragement. The rope still bound her wrists.

  “At least we have a light,” she said. Fortunately, Stumpy Dowd had forgotten the lantern.

  “Yes, but the oil is burning low,” Mr. Aborn remarked quietly. “When it’s gone we’ll be in the dark—as I have been for the past two weeks.”

  Nancy shuddered. “Did Stumpy bring you food in little packages?”

  “Yes, when he thought of it. He kept me alive just to p
ump me for information, and threatened to harm Laura if I didn’t tell him what he wanted to know.”

  Suddenly Nancy felt the rope which chafed her wrists slacken. At the same time the light went out. The cellar was plunged into darkness.

  CHAPTER XV

  Plans for Rescue

  BACK in River Heights, meanwhile, Hannah Gruen had spent a restless and worried evening, expecting to hear Nancy’s convertible pull into the driveway at any moment. Moreover, Mr. Drew had failed to call at the appointed hour and Hannah had no knowledge of how to contact the lawyer.

  At ten thirty, when the front doorbell rang, the housekeeper limped hurriedly to answer it. Instantly she felt a sense of keen disappointment.

  “Oh, hello, Laura,” she said, and turned to greet Don Cameron. “Did you have a good time at the barbecue?”

  “It was wonderful!” Laura exclaimed happily, as she and Don entered the house.

  “Certainly was fun,” Don agreed. “Too bad Nancy wasn’t with us. Where is she, Mrs. Gruen?”

  At these words tears welled up in Hannah’s eyes. She told of not hearing from either Nancy or Mr. Drew that evening. “I’m so upset,” she said. “What will we do? Call the police?”

  “Probably Nancy decided to stay overnight at the Beach Cliff Hotel,” Laura said at once. “Have you called there to find out?”

  “No, because Nancy always calls when she changes her plans.”

  Don, greatly concerned, went at once to the telephone. Impatiently the young man waited for a response to his ring.

  The hotel telephone operator answered. When Don asked for Nancy Drew, the girl said, “Just a moment.” It was nearly five minutes before she told him:

  “We are unable to reach your party. Miss Drew is not in the hotel.”

  “Then she didn’t check out earlier this evening?” Don inquired.

  “No. Miss Drew is still registered.”

  Don Cameron hung up, a drawn expression on his face. He told the others what he had learned.