The following morning Nancy spent two hours at the library examining old atlases and historic records. Although the librarian permitted her access to some old and precious maps, she could find no chart which bore any resemblance to the scrap in her possession.
Disappointed, Nancy turned to business directories and biographies. She carefully studied the names listed.
“There’s not a John Abner Tomlin Jr. among them,” Nancy sighed.
Next, she consulted an old book on ships lost at sea. It contained a brief account of the sinking of the Sea Hawk. Captain Abner Tomlin, age forty-five, was in charge of the freighter. There also was a list of the officers and sailors who had shipped aboard. As Nancy carefully copied the names, she noticed there was no Tom Gambrell listed.
“That’s point number one against Mr. Rorke,” she decided, rising to leave.
Next, Nancy went to the newspaper office of the River Heights Gazette and asked if she might look through their files of old issues. Soon she was busy searching for stories concerning the Chatham estate. Without much trouble she found an article reporting the sale of Rocky Edge, after the owner Silas Norse had died.
“Now to find out if there are any items about strange gadgets there,” the young detective told herself, turning sheet after sheet.
Finally her eyes lighted upon a startling headline:
BURGLAR STARTS LAWSUIT
Thief Injured at Estate Claims Damages
The story went on to tell how one Spike Doty had broken into the home of Silas Norse. As he was about to escape with valuable loot, he had been caught between sliding panels and injured rather badly. Though held for robbery, Doty had made a claim for damages.
“I wonder if he ever collected!” Nancy thought. “I’ll bet he didn’t because he was a trespasser!”
She hunted further and found a photograph and an article about the inventor himself. There were pictures of various rooms in his home, showing sliding panels, secret closets, and several gadgets. Nancy was on the point of deciding that Rocky Edge was no place for Ellen Smith when she read that Mr. Norse was planning to have all these things removed.
“But he forgot about the secret panel in Ship Cottage,” she thought, recalling her adventure there. “I can vouch for that! And maybe Mr. Norse didn’t remove some of the others!”
Nancy decided to talk with Ellen about her sleuthing so far. Upon reaching home she telephoned at once and was invited to come over to dinner and spend the night in the Blackstone dormitory.
When she finished the conversation, Nancy told Hannah the plans. “And tomorrow I’m going to the Emerson College dance with Ned, you know. It’s the big year-end party of the Dramatic Club. I’m so sorry Bess and George couldn’t accept Burt’s and Dave’s invitations. When the boys heard this, they decided to attend a fraternity convention, so I won’t see them.”
“I’m sorry too,” said Hannah. “The girls would have been company for you on the long ride. By the way, Nancy, that new dress you’re going to travel in hasn’t been shortened yet. Suppose you put it on right now and I’ll get the correct length.”
While Hannah marked the new hemline with chalk, Nancy told her what she had learned at the library.
“I don’t like the sound of any of it,” Hannah remarked when Nancy had finished. “Ellen had better not go to the Chathams, and the Smiths ought to beware of that Mr. Rorke.”
While waiting for the dress to be hemmed, Nancy did various chores around the house. Then she packed her suitcase and finally phoned her father to say good-by.
“Have a good time with Ellen and at Emerson, and be careful, dear,” he cautioned her.
“Will do,” she promised.
Nancy spent two hours at art school classes, then started for Blackstone, reaching Ellen’s dormitory just before suppertime.
“Oh, I’m so glad to see you!” Ellen said warmly. “Come and meet my friends. By the way, would you mind going to my home tonight to sleep? We’re giving an operetta here tomorrow and I’ve promised to bring over several things to use as stage props. And a couple of costumes.”
“I don’t mind a bit,” Nancy replied. “We’ll have a better chance to talk if we’re alone.”
Nancy thoroughly enjoyed herself at dinner and later at the dress rehearsal. It was after ten before she and Ellen got away and eleven when they reached Wayland.
“I imagine Mother and Dad have gone to bed,” Ellen remarked as Nancy turned the car into the Smiths’ street. “They seldom stay up late.”
As she had surmised, her house was in total darkness.
“Do you have your key, Ellen?”
“Oh, I forgot it!” she exclaimed. “I’ll have to ring the bell.”
No one answered. After a long wait Ellen tried again, but still there was no response.
“They must be sleeping soundly,” she commented.
“Let’s try the back door,” Nancy suggested. “If that’s locked we may be able to get in through a window.”
Moving quietly so that the neighbors would not be disturbed, the girls went around the house. Nancy halted suddenly, clutching Ellen’s hand.
“Look!” she whispered tensely.
A tall ladder leaned against the house wall, terminating at an open window on the second floor. As the girls stared at it, a man’s shadowy figure moved stealthily down the rungs!
CHAPTER V
The Stolen Parchment
“A BURGLAR!” Nancy whispered into Ellen’s ear. “Don’t make a sound! Maybe we can catch him.”
Remaining motionless, the girls waited until the man had nearly reached the base of the ladder. Then, at a signal from Nancy, they made a concerted rush for him.
After the first moment of surprise he began to struggle. With one push he sent Ellen reeling backwards into a clump of dwarf evergreens. Nancy held on, but the muscular man was too strong for her.
“Let go!” he ordered harshly. “If you don’t, I’ll get rough!”
Headlights from a passing automobile momentarily focused on the struggling pair, and in that second Nancy caught a clear glimpse of the man’s partially bearded face and angry eyes.
“I won’t let go!” she defied him.
In the wild struggle the ladder was pushed away from the wall. It toppled, narrowly missing Ellen, and struck the garage with a loud crash.
“Help! Help!” screamed Nancy, hoping that her cry would awaken the neighbors.
Instantly the prowler clapped his hand across her mouth. Shaking free from her grasp, he lifted her bodily and threw her down on the grass.
Nancy fell so hard that the breath was knocked from her, but she struggled to her feet. By this time the man had run across the lawn and disappeared beyond a hedge.
“Are you all right, Nancy?” Ellen gasped, limping toward her friend.
“Yes, but it’s too bad that intruder got away.”
“Oh, I hope he didn’t steal anything,” Ellen said.
In the house next door lights were being snapped on. The upper floor of the Smith home suddenly was illuminated. Ellen’s mother raised a window and called to ask what was wrong.
“Hello, Mother,” said Ellen. “I’m afraid our home has been robbed. Nancy and I just tried to capture a man who was coming out of the house!”
“Oh, goodness me!” Mrs. Smith exclaimed.
“We couldn’t hold him. Is Dad all right?”
There was no answer. The girls guessed that Mrs. Smith had run downstairs to her husband’s room. A few minutes later she unlocked the back door. By this time several neighbors had arrived to find out the cause of the commotion. Nancy explained what had happened, and one man summoned the police. Ellen and Nancy found Mr. Smith in a state of nervous alarm.
“Probably my desk has been rifled!” he cried out. “I’m sure the parchment map is gone!”
“Now don’t get excited, Tomlin,” Mrs. Smith said soothingly. “Maybe the girls got here in time to prevent a robbery.”
“If I were you I’d check
to make sure,” Nancy urged. “The man may have ransacked several rooms in your house.”
While she and Ellen counted the silverware, Mrs. Smith hastened upstairs. In a few minutes she returned and one glance at her stricken face told the girls that the precious map was gone.
“I was afraid the map was what the prowler came for,” Nancy commented. “Maybe that man Rorke sent him.”
“That’s what I call a low-down trick,” Mr. Smith fumed. “Now who could that scamp be, and why should he want the map?”
“Obviously to obtain the treasure!” exclaimed Ellen. “Oh, Dad, the parchment must have genuine value! And to think we’ve lost it!”
“You forget that I made a copy of the original,” Nancy reminded the others. “It’s crudely drawn but fairly accurate and I have it with me.”
Mr. Smith said gratefully, “You’re a lifesaver.”
To Nancy’s embarrassment he introduced her to the neighbors who had gathered on the front porch and told them how brave she and Ellen had been.
As soon as the police arrived, a Sergeant Holmes introduced himself and Officer Mentor. He asked the girls to describe the intruder. Ellen could remember nothing about him but his surprising strength. Nancy, however, not only provided the police with an excellent description of the heavy-set thirty-year-old prowler, but drew a rough sketch of his face.
Nancy had recognized the close resemblance between the intruder and the “apparition” of Ship Cottage but did not mention this.
“Say, you’re something of an artist!” the sergeant said admiringly. “A good observer, tool This fellow looks like one of our old friends.”
“Spike Doty!” the other policeman added, studying the sketch.
“The same Spike Doty who burglarized Rocky Edge a few years ago?” Nancy asked.
“He’s the one. Has a record a mile long, and is wanted for another robbery.”
Sergeant Holmes said, “He’s a sailor, and a fairly good one when he’s willing to work.”
The officers went outside to make an investigation. Just before they left, Nancy walked out on the front porch. She saw a man and a woman dart from the side of the house and hurry to a car which had been parked up the street. The automobile was too far away for her to distinguish either the make or the license.
“That’s queer,” she thought. “I wonder if they were just curious bystanders or if they had some part in the robbery.”
In the morning she and Ellen had breakfast about nine o‘clock, helped with the dishes, and then drove to Blackstone College. They assisted in setting the stage for the operetta and had luncheon. At four o’clock Nancy said she must start for Emerson College to attend the dance with Ned Nickerson.
“I’m staying there only one night,” she said to Ellen in parting. “On my way home I’ll stop at Rocky Edge and investigate some more.”
“Thanks so much. I do need a salary comparable to the one Mrs. Chatham offers so I can come back here next fall,” Ellen said wistfully.
Nancy drove leisurely along a winding country road. A gray automobile followed some distance behind. She did not give it a second thought until she had gone several miles.
“Why doesn’t that car pass me?” Nancy wondered.
Deliberately she slowed up, but the car behind also slackened pace. With increasing uneasiness Nancy remembered that she had the precious copy of Tomlin Smith’s half map in her purse.
“It’s time that I find out what’s what!” she thought. “We’ll play a little game of hide-and-seek.”
Again Nancy slackened her pace, turning into a paved side road. She felt certain that unless the occupants of the gray car were trailing her they would not make the turn. Watching in the mirror, she was alarmed to see the automobile leave the main road.
“I am being followed,” she thought anxiously. “And they’re gaining on me, too!”
By this time the gray car was so near that she could see two persons in the front seat, a man and a woman. Nancy recognized them as the couple who had hurried out of the Smith driveway the night before! She tried in vain to read the license plate which was covered with mud. Gradually, so as not to reveal her concern, Nancy speeded up but was unable to lose her pursuers.
“They mean business,” she thought grimly. “If I don’t lose them quickly, they’ll probably try to stop me when we come to the first lonely stretch.”
Directly ahead was a dirt road which Nancy knew led to the town of Hamilton, two miles away. Without hesitation she turned into it, even though she realized it would take her away from Emerson.
Another burst of speed put her far ahead of the pursuing car. Nevertheless, as she entered the town of Hamilton she saw that the man and woman had not given up the chase.
Nancy looked in vain for police headquarters. Finally she parked in front of the bus station and ran inside. Entering a telephone booth, she called Ned Nickerson at Emerson College and told him of her predicament.
“I am being followed!” Nancy thought anxiously
“You stay there until I come,” Ned advised. “A bus leaves for Hamilton in fifteen minutes. If I hurry I can catch it. Whatever you do, don’t give that couple a chance to approach you.”
“I’ll be safe enough until you get here,” Nancy said to reassure him. “There are several people around and I doubt the couple would try anything out in the open.”
Even as she hung up the phone, the gray car parked some distance behind her own. Uneasily Nancy sat down in the waiting room. Recalling that she had failed to leave a copy of the half map with Mr. Smith, she took a notebook from her purse and began to sketch.
Nancy became so absorbed in her work that she did not glance up until a woman sat down beside her. The newcomer was about thirty-five years old, stout, and had a cold, steady gaze which rested on Nancy’s notebook.
“She’s the one who was in the gray car!” the young detective said to herself.
Getting up abruptly, Nancy thrust both drawings into her handbag and hurriedly left the bus station. A glance revealed that the woman’s accomplice was waiting nearby, so she started walking in the opposite direction.
“I’ll be safe if I stay within sight of other people,” Nancy reasoned, clutching her handbag. “If it’s the half map they want, I must finish the second copy quickly and put it somewhere.”
A block away Nancy came to a large department store. Turning into it, she made her way to the third floor. She located a telephone booth and closed herself into it.
“I’ll be okay here for a few minutes,” she thought, opening her purse. “Now to finish copying the map.”
She completed the sketch in less than five minutes. Realizing that both drawings could be stolen, Nancy came to a sudden decision. She sealed her original sketch in an envelope which she addressed to her father, then discovered she had no stamp.
“I’ll mail it at the post office. I may be followed, but I must take the risk.”
Nancy hoped that she had not been observed entering the store, but when she emerged from the building, the woman and the man were waiting. As she walked hurriedly along the street they followed in their car.
“They’re afraid to approach me now,” she reasoned, “but if I’m alone for a minute I’ll have trouble. I wonder if they’re in league with Spike Doty.”
Nancy entered the post office, bought a stamp, and mailed the map. She remained in the building for a few minutes, allowing herself exactly enough time to reach the bus station before Ned was due to arrive.
Her watch proved to be accurate, for as she came within view of the station she saw three buses coming down the street. With a sigh of relief she quickened her step and joined the crowd of passengers waiting to get on.
The farthest bus finally came to a standstill. Nancy caught a glimpse of Ned alighting from the last bus and waved to him.
As the passengers pushed toward the first bus, someone brushed against her. Nancy felt a slight tug on her arm. Startled, she whirled around in time to see a man running dow
n the street.
“My purse!” she cried out. “My purse has been stolen!”
CHAPTER VI
Sudden Danger
AT Nancy’s cry of distress a number of people turned around, but no one tried to stop the fleeing thief. He was soon out of sight. A policeman appeared on the scene and questioned Nancy about the purse snatcher.
“His car’s over there!” she exclaimed, pointing. “And the woman with him—” Nancy stopped speaking abruptly. “Why—it’s gone!” She felt sick over the turn of events.
“Suppose you tell me the whole story,” the policeman said kindly.
Nancy did not wish to disclose the details of her recent adventure and its connection with the current mystery. She stated simply, “A woman and a man followed me here in a gray sedan. I believe he was the same one who snatched my purse. He’s about six feet tall, sandy-haired, and very thin.
“The woman is about thirty-five, average height, and rather heavy. She has light-brown hair and hazel eyes.”
Nancy paused, then added, “I’d say the man is older than she is. They both wore navy-blue suits.”
“Did you have much money with you?”
“Practically none. There were a few personal articles, though, that I hate to lose.”
As Nancy was talking to the policeman, Ned Nickerson, a handsome, athletic young man, came through the group.
“Hello, Nancy,” he greeted her anxiously. “What happened?”
“I’ll tell you all about it in a minute,” she promised.
Nancy thanked the officer for his help, then she and Ned went to a quiet corner of the waiting room where they could talk.
“Now tell me everything,” he insisted.
When Nancy finished relating her afternoon adventures, Ned asked, “Do you have any idea what they are after?”
“This.” From her dress pocket she removed a copy of Tomlin Smith’s map and showed it to him. “When I was in the store’s telephone booth, I transferred my money and this paper from my handbag to my pocket.”
Ned studied the crude drawing. “It looks like a lesson in geography. Half a lesson at that.”
The Quest of the Missing Map Page 3