The Clue of the Black Keys

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The Clue of the Black Keys Page 11

by Carolyn Keene


  Nancy did not answer.

  “Think you’re clever, don’t you?” the woman cried. Mrs. Tino started to drag the girl to her feet, then changed her mind.

  “I’ll search you first,” she said in her brassy voice. “You still have the key we want.”

  Seeing the ribbon around Nancy’s neck, she tore off the obsidian relic with a savage wrench.

  “Now we have everything!” Juarez exclaimed triumphantly. “The fortune is ours!”

  CHAPTER XIX

  Threats

  PORTERLY, Wangell, and the Juarez couple dragged their prisoners from the hut, and through some dense underbrush to a clearing.

  The captives were ordered to sit side by side. Juarez began to dig in the earth with a shoveL

  Nancy’s heart sank, but she was determined not to show it. There was one gleam of hope. Only two of her group had been spotted from the plane. These people did not know that Fran and Jack had gone for the police!

  “It won’t do you any good to dig up the tablet,” Dr. Pitt said. “You can’t translate the message.”

  Juarez gave him a sneering look. “You’ll tell us. We’ll use Nancy Drew as a new means of persuasion,” he said meaningfully.

  “The police know all about you,” Terry warned him. “For instance, they know it was Porterly who knocked me out at the hotel, stole my papers, and then broke into the Drew home.”

  “And they know, too,” Nancy added, “that Juarez calls himself Conway King. That’s how we found out you caused our accident on the road to Emerson!”

  “Count me in on that.” Wangell smirked.

  Nancy wished she could look at her watch. It seemed a long time since Jack and Fran had left to go for the police.

  “They ought to come any minute,” Nancy thought. “We must play for time.” Aloud she said, “You tried to break into our home in River Heights one night, Juarez.”

  “That old woman of yours with her homemade burglar alarms!” Juarez growled. “If it hadn’t been for her, I’d have got the key that night.”

  “But we have it now!” Mrs. Tino cried, showing it to her husband.

  Juarez’s face broke into a smile. He signaled Wangell to take over the digging. Then he came and stood in front of Nancy.

  “Even if you hadn’t walked into this trap, I had plans for taking care of you.”

  “I know,” Nancy said quietly. “You sent a note to Wilfred Porterly. But he didn’t do a thorough job when he burned that letter in Florida City.”

  Just then Wangell’s shovel made a ringing sound, and a moment later he lifted a large stone slab from its hiding place. It was decorated with grotesque carving and mysterious symbols.

  Nancy’s heart was pounding. Now that these thieves had the tablet, they might leave the island and take their prisoners along. And the police had not arrived! She must delay these people if she could.

  “Well, I guess we’re ready for our trip,” Juarez said. “First my boat, then the plane.”

  Even seconds counted now! Nancy asked calmly who had mailed the fake letter from Baltimore, using an innocent old man’s name.

  “A friend.” Juarez smiled in satisfaction. “But nobody could ever prove it.”

  Juarez made a sign to his companions, picked up the stone tablet, and proceeded down a narrow path. The Tinos, Wangell, and Porterly followed with their three captives.

  The path led to the opposite side of the island from the one where Nancy’s party had landed. A cabin cruiser was anchored a short distance out.

  The prisoners’ ankle bonds were removed, and they were forced to splash through the water and go aboard. They were crowded into the cabin, then the ropes were replaced and tightened securely. Wangell started the motor.

  “You know where to head,” Juarez said. “Porterly’s place.”

  As the cruiser pulled away from Black Key, he chose a seat on a bench between Nancy and Dr. Pitt.

  “Now, Joshua Pitt,” Juarez sneered, “tell us what you know. Where’s the ancient treasure?”

  Nancy cried out, “Don’t tell him! Don’t tell—”

  Juarez raised his hand as if to strike Nancy.

  “Stop!” Dr. Pitt cried. “I’ll tell you. Go to Mexico. You’ll find the treasure in Mexico.” He named a site near the center of a little-known jungle region.

  Juarez got up and stood over Dr. Pitt. “You’re going with us to Mexico. Tomorrow morning we start looking for the treasure! If your directions are wrong, Professor—you’ll be to blame for what we’ll do to Terry Scott and Nancy Drew!”

  By this time the boat had reached another Key. A red-faced, nervous woman, whom Nancy recognized as Mrs. Wangell, met them. She cried out in astonishment upon seeing Terry.

  “It can’t be! It can’t be!” she wailed.

  “Shut up!” Mrs. Tino commanded. “Help me take the girl.”

  Nancy was half dragged, half carried through a grove to a yellow cement bungalow. Terry was brought in by Juarez and Wangell, while Porterly remained on the boat to guard Dr. Pitt.

  An evil smile contorted Juarez’s face as he turned to leave. “My little wife, you know what to do with these prisoners.”

  He and Wangell left, closing the door behind them. A few minutes later Nancy and Terry heard the cruiser churning away from the dock. They were lined against the wall, while the women surveyed them.

  “See here,” Terry said. “Be reasonable. Those ropes are cutting Miss Drew’s wrists.”

  Mrs. Tino’s face set grimly. “We’d better separate these two.” Motioning to Mrs. Wangell, she said, “Take the girl into the bedroom.”

  Mrs. Wangell did as she was directed. The door swung shut behind them.

  “Maybe I can get her to talk,” thought Nancy. “She’s not cruel like the others.” Smiling disarmingly, she said, “I know you don’t want to do things like this, Mrs. Wangell.”

  The woman looked at the floor. “No, I don’t. But Earl makes me. Oh, I don’t know what to do. He and Juarez shouldn’t have kept Dr. Pitt a prisoner. It might have killed him.”

  “It’s a serious offense,” Nancy said. “By the way, Mrs. Wangell, where did you get that interesting old diary?”

  The woman became silent, as if listening for eavesdroppers from the other room. Then she whispered, “Juarez stole it from a man named Evans. After he tore out some pages, he gave it to me.”

  “And asked you to have Terry Scott figure out from it where a certain fortune was?”

  Mrs. Wangell admitted this, saying he also wanted to keep Terry busy, so he would not hunt for Joshua Pitt.

  Nancy heard an airplane. It came closer, flying so low over the bungalow that the walls vibrated. Mrs. Wangell ran to the window.

  “There they go!” she exclaimed. “Oh, I hope Dr. Pitt’s wrong that something dreadful is going to happen when they find the fortune! Earl is so foolish!”

  Nancy pressed her advantage. “Mrs. Wangell, why are you so afraid of your husband?”

  The woman hung her head. “I once stole something. But only Earl and Juarez know about it.”

  “I see,” Nancy said. “Nevertheless, I advise you to turn state’s evidence when the police round you all up. You’ll get off easier.”

  Mrs. Wangell looked frightened. “Earl didn’t mean to be bad after he got caught once.”

  “About the paintings?”

  “Yes. It’s just that he hooked up with Juarez. Juarez knew Earl had me in his power. He used to play the black keys on the piano to remind me of Pitt being a prisoner. Then Earl took it up. It was awful—”

  The door burst open.

  “You’ll pay for this, Lillian, you tattletale!” cried Mrs. Tino. “I’m going to fix you and the Drew girl after I’ve taken care of Terry Scott!”

  CHAPTER XX

  The Three Keys

  WHEN Mrs. Tino rushed to attack Mrs. Wangell, she screamed and dashed into a closet. Quickly Juarez’s wife sprang to the lock and turned the key.

  Almost simultaneously, Nancy saw
Terry in the doorway. He had finally succeeded in loosening his bonds.

  As Mrs. Tino flew at him in a rage, she tripped over a chair and fell to the floor, stunned. Terry rushed to Nancy’s side and untied the rope on her hands. With her hands free, she wrenched at the knots around her ankles. Then while Terry tied the woman’s ankles together, Nancy bound her wrists.

  Nancy looked at him gratefully. “Thanks for rescuing me. I’ll never forget it,” she said. “But we mustn’t delay here.”

  “You’re right,” Terry agreed.

  He noticed a fishing rod in a corner. “Nancy, give me a white handkerchief. I’ll rig up a distress signal.”

  It took only a few seconds for him to attach. Then he and Nancy ran from the house.

  “I see a boat out there,” Terry called. “It looks like a police launch.”

  He waved the fishing pole wildly. The boat came toward them.

  There were six figures on deck—Fran, Jack, and four policemen!

  “That white flag handkerchief did it,” one of the officers said when the boat docked. “We couldn’t find you.”

  “Oh, we’ve been frantic!” Fran cried. “We went to Black Key and there wasn’t a sign of you. We’ve been searching everywhere.”

  Nancy knew there was not a moment to lose. Hurriedly she and Terry explained what had happened and said they must get back to Miami at once.

  “We’ll take care of those women at the house,” the sergeant in charge said. He radioed a report to headquarters, then told one of the men to take the young people to the Key where Jack had left his boat.

  The fastest possible speed was made. When Nancy and her friends transferred to Jack’s craft, Terry urged him to use all the power it had, saying:

  “Nancy, Dr. Anderson, and I have a date in Mexico. We must reach the treasure spot before Juarez gets there with Joshua Pitt.”

  Dr. Anderson met them at the dock in Miami, anxiety on his face at their long absence. While Terry telephoned to charter a plane, Nancy told the professor what had happened. His eyes were wide with amazement.

  “Do you think we can get there in time?” he asked.

  “We’d better,” Nancy said grimly. “We have several hours. The others won’t begin work before morning.”

  Dr. Anderson dashed to a telephone and got in touch with a retired friend. After a few minutes’ conversation he returned to the others.

  “Miss Oakes, please tell my students that Dr. Lewis White will take over the work while I’m gone. And,” he added, “will you get in touch with Dr. Graham long-distance at Jonsonburg and tell him the developments here? Ask him to come to Miami if possible. We’ll be in touch with him here.”

  Fran promised, then fearfully said good-by to Nancy. “Oh, do you have to go? Something dreadful might happen to you!”

  Nancy assured her friend she would be in safe hands. Then she hurried to the waiting plane with Terry and Dr. Anderson.

  About dusk the three alighted at a small airfield in the interior of Mexico. Three uniformed police officers hurried to meet them, and spoke in Spanish to Terry.

  “They’ll have a car waiting for us at the crack of dawn,” Terry told the others. “We’ll go by a short cut the men know to the spot where Juarez is heading.”

  Nancy and the professors were escorted to a hacienda by the police. After a late supper they retired immediately in order to be fresh for the task of the following day.

  They were awake before daybreak, and by the time the red sun shone over the jungle, the party was on its way.

  Nancy, Terry, and Dr. Anderson climbed into a mud-spattered station wagon, while the police took the car ahead. They rode into the jungle until the path dwindled to a one-man trail.

  Terry consulted the police, then translated, “The officers say we can ambush Juarez at Diablo Point.”

  Single file, Nancy and the five men hurried along the trail. At a fork in the trail, the police halted. They told Terry that Juarez and his friends would have to pass there, to reach the site mentioned by Joshua Pitt. It was suggested they all hide in the undergrowth, and nab Juarez and his accomplices as they came by.

  For a long time nothing happened. The jungle air was hot and oppressive. Trailing vines tickled Nancy’s neck where she lay, and gnats and mosquitoes attacked her ankles.

  She began to worry. Perhaps they were too late. What if Juarez and his cronies had already reached the treasure spot! Perhaps, at that very moment, they were torturing Joshua Pitt—

  Then she heard the distant tramp of feet, the sound of a voice. Peering through the dense growth, she saw men approaching. Joshua Pitt was in the lead, head bent, feet dragging. He seemed to be in the last stages of exhaustion.

  Behind him came Juarez and his pals. Wangell had several tools in his hands. Porterly held a shovel and a large burlap bag.

  As they came near, Joshua Pitt said in a cracked, weary voice, “I don’t know the exact location. Anyway, the secret will destroy mankind, I tell you!”

  Wangell sneered, “Then that power will be ours. And we’ll have the treasure, too!”

  “Professor, you’re lying about not knowing!” Juarez snarled. “Do you want Nancy Drew to be tortured?”

  Terry and Nancy glanced at each other. Any second now Juarez would learn that his chances to torture Nancy or anyone else had come to an end forever.

  At that moment the police leaped from the bushes, followed by Terry and Dr. Anderson. There were astonished cries, a fight, but it was over quickly. Juarez and his two accomplices were handcuffed, then the police went through their pockets.

  “The black keys!” Terry cried as one of the policemen held them out. “And the half-key, too!”

  Joshua Pitt’s gratefulness at finally being rescued was overwhelming. Tears trickled from the elderly man’s eyes.

  “You are truly my friends,” he said. “I should have shared the secret with you from the start.”

  “We understand,” Terry said. “Let’s forget that, and find the treasure. Where is it, Dr. Pitt?”

  The professor said he had been unable to figure out the exact site, because from his translation he had learned the landmark was a tall stone shaft. According to the Indians that Juarez had consulted the evening before, this no longer existed, nor any of the other clues on the Mystery Stone.

  “It may take years of digging to find the Frog Treasure,” he said sadly.

  Suddenly Terry snapped his fingers. “Maybe not,” he said. “I believe Nancy has solved the mystery for us. She pieced the story together from the photographs I took of some drawings in that old diary which the Wangells had. Let’s see—what were they, Nancy?”

  Excitedly Nancy told about the footprints leading to a large pool, with a split palm tree along its edge. Terry translated this to the police.

  “Si, si!” one said, and told them to follow him.

  Presently the dense growth gave way to a small lake. There were many palm trees growing near it.

  “Look for a marker,” Dr. Pitt said, new enthusiam taking hold of him. “Maybe that stone shaft is only covered up. The top of it might be showing.”

  Everyone searched eagerly. It was Dr. Pitt who finally located the marker. The top of the narrow stone monument was barely visible among the leaves and undergrowth. Into it was roughly cut the symbol of a frog!

  “This must be it!” he cried excitedly. “Let’s dig here!”

  Terry took the shovel and quickly set to work unearthing the shaft. One of the policemen stepped forward.

  “Let the prisoners dig!” he ordered.

  Juarez was given the shovel. When he seemed to be lagging, the officer prodded him with his boot. Wangell and Porterly had to take their turns. The hole grew deeper and wider.

  At last, several feet underground they came upon a tarnished but waterproof chest of solid silver, richly ornamented. Terry lifted it out. The chest had three separate locks, on the front, the back and the bottom, for each of the obsidian keys.

  “I hope they work,”
Nancy thought fervently as Terry inserted the first one.

  Terry turned it. The lock yielded. The second gave way. Fortunately, the break in the half-key was not in a vital spot and also worked.

  Terry swung open the lid. The Mexicans crowded close, their eyes round with wonder.

  Inside was indeed a Frog Treasure. There were frogs of various sizes, made of silver. All but a very large one were set with precious jewels: emeralds, sapphires, and turquoise.

  Juarez was beside himself with rage. “It would have been our treasure,” he screamed, “if it hadn’t been for Nancy Drew.”

  Dr. Pitt eyed him contemptuously. “The treasure belongs to none of us. It is the property of the Mexican government.”

  “But where is the secret, Dr. Pitt?” Nancy asked. “The fabulous secret of antiquity that you say can destroy mankind?”

  “It will be found,” the professor replied, “inside this large silver frog.”

  Taking the finely carved relic in his hands, he showed the others the tiny mark where one foot of the frog had been attached. Joshua Pitt pulled off the foot. A greenish powder trickled out. He plugged the hole quickly.

  “This substance,” he said, “has a terrible power. We must destroy it forever.”

  Terry Scott was thoughtfully taking a paper from his pocket.

  “Perhaps so,” he said. “But I hope and believe, sir, that you are mistaken.”

  He showed the paper to the other scientists. It was the cryptic note containing the symbols of the frog, sun, and prostrate man.

  “As you know,” Terry continued, pointing to the figure of the prostrate man, “this symbolizes death. But it can also mean disease or human weakness. It must be considered in relation to the other symbols, particularly the symbol of the sun.”

  Joshua Pitt’s eyes now had an excited, happier gleam. “Go on,” he said.

  “According to my interpretation,” Terry said, “the frog represents the sacredness of the secret rather than a motive of evil. The secret is that this green powder can heal mankind.”

 

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