Nancy groped again and shook her head. “The envelope is gone! But no one was here!”
“I’ve got an idea,” said George. “Maybe someone climbed another tree, crossed over into the big walnut, and then snatched the letter from above!”
“The trees are so close together I suppose it could be done,” Nancy admitted doubtfully.
“Wait a minute,” George cried out excitedly. Then she told about the slowly bending, leafless branch.
Nancy peered intently up into the old walnut and the maple next to it. “No one there,” she observed. “George, you’re sure it was a branch and not a fish pole with a hook on the end that was used?” she asked.
“It could have been a pole.”
“I understand several things now!” Nancy exclaimed, thinking aloud. “That metal object I saw near here the other day must have been part of a collapsible pole! I’ll bet it belonged to the same person who was here today!”
“And the same one who robbed Mrs. Putney!” added Bess.
“George, did the stick bend down out of the tree, or did it come from the direction of the bushes?” Nancy asked.
“I couldn’t see well enough to be sure,” George replied. “But from where I stood, it appeared to bend down out of a tree behind the walnut.”
The three went back to the convertible, agreeing that it might be a good idea to keep a lookout for visitors to the walnut tree. Obviously it was being used as a collection station by someone extracting money from gullible people.
Later, as she drove homeward, Nancy began to wonder whether this might not tie in with Lola White’s peculiar actions.
As she turned into her own driveway she noticed a dark-green sports car parked in front. The driver came to meet her.
“Hi, Nancy!” Ned grinned. “Guess I got here a little early.”
“I’m late. Been working on a case. Please forgive me.”
A week earlier she had accepted Ned Nickerson’s invitation to a sundown picnic planned by Emerson College students spending their summer in River Heights.
“I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes,” she promised.
While Ned waited on the porch, she rushed into the house, showered, and dressed. On her way downstairs, she paused in the kitchen to say good-by to Mrs. Gruen.
“It seems to me you’re never home any more,” the housekeeper replied. But she added with a smile, “Have a good time and put mystery out of that pretty head for tonight!”
“How could I?” Nancy laughed gaily.
Nancy had not asked Ned where the picnic was to be held. Therefore, she was surprised when she discovered that the spot selected was on the upper Muskoka River, less than a mile from the mysterious walnut tree.
“Want to do me a favor?” she asked Ned.
“Sure thing.”
Nancy told him about the money in the walnut tree, its puzzling disappearance, and her suspicion that something sinister was going on.
“And you want to stop and have a look for more envelopes,” said Ned. “Okay.”
They found nothing in the tree, but the crossed twigs had been removed. Someone had been there! Ned promised to stop at the spot now and then to see if he could learn anything.
They drove on to the picnic spot, where their friends had already gathered. The aroma of broiling hamburgers made them ravenous.
Both Nancy and Ned were favorites among their friends, and soon everyone was laughing and joking. After all the food had been consumed, some of the young people began to sing. Others went off in canoes.
“Let’s go out on the river, Nancy,” Ned suggested.
Nancy sat in the bow of the canoe, her paddle lying idle across the gunwales, while Ned paddled smoothly upstream. Moonlight streamed over the treetops and shimmered across the surface of the water. Presently Ned guided the canoe into a cove and let it glide silently toward shore.
“What a night!” he said. “I wish—”
Suddenly Nancy, who was facing the shore, sat bolt upright and uttered a low cry.
“Look over there, Ned!” she exclaimed in a hushed voice. “Am I seeing things?”
The youth, who had been watching the moonlight on the water, turned his head and was startled to see a ghostly white figure wading out into the river from the beach.
“Whew!” Ned caught his breath, nearly dropping his paddle.
As the canoe swung with the current, Nancy got a clear view of the figure in white.
The person wading deeper and deeper into the water was Lola White!
CHAPTER VI
A New Lead
“QUICK, Ned!” Nancy cried, seizing her paddle. “She’ll be in over her head in a minute. We must save her!”
Her companion needed no urging. He sent the canoe forward with powerful strokes.
“Lola, stay where you are! Don’t move!” Nancy called to her.
The girl did not appear to hear. On she waded, holding her hands in front of her.
As Nancy had feared, the shallow water ended abruptly. The next instant Lola had stepped in over her head. The ducking seemed to bring her out of her trance, and now she began to struggle frantically. If she knew how to swim, she gave no evidence of it.
Fortunately, the canoe was soon alongside her. Quickly Ned eased himself into the water, while Nancy steadied the craft. He seized the struggling and terrified girl, then began to swim toward shore. In a moment they were in shallow water.
Nancy was waiting with the canoe, and the sputtering Lola was lifted into the bottom of the craft. The girl was only half conscious. Nancy bent low over her and caught the words, “the beckoning hand.”
“Gosh!” Ned observed uneasily. “She’s in a bad way!”
“We must get her home right away,” Nancy decided. “And you, too, with those wet clothes.”
Paddling as fast as they could, she and Ned started toward the picnic grounds where he had left his car. Midway there, Lola seemed to recover her senses. She sat up and gazed at Nancy as if recognizing her for the first time.
“Lola, why were you wading out into the water?” Nancy asked.
“I can’t tell you,” Lola answered weakly.
“You said something about a beckoning hand.”
“I did?” Lola’s eyes opened wide and an expression of horror came over her face.
“You thought someone was calling to you?”
Lola spoke with an effort. “I’m grateful to you for pulling me out of the river. But I can’t answer your questions!”
Nancy said no more. Taking off her sweater, she put it around the shivering girl.
Later, when they reached the picnic grounds, she hurried Lola in secret to Ned’s car, as the college group made joking remarks to Ned about his bedraggled appearance.
At the White home Nancy and Ned lingered only long enough to be certain that Lola had suffered no ill effects from her immersion.
“Please don’t tell anyone what happened,” Mrs. White pleaded. “Lola went out this evening without telling me where she was going. I can’t imagine why she would go to the river.”
“Perhaps to meet someone,” Nancy suggested.
“So far as I know, she had no date. Oh, I do so need your help to clear up this mystery, Nancy!”
“I’ll do everything I can,” Nancy promised.
Upon returning home, the young detective sat for a long while in the Drew library, reflecting upon the events of the evening.
Nancy mused also about the many unrelated incidents that had taken place the past week. Into several of these the mysterious Howard Brex seemed to fit very naturally. Yet of his whereabouts since his release from prison, nothing was known.
Penning a brief note to Mr. Johnson, Brex’s former boss in New Orleans, she described the crossed-twig sign, and asked if by chance it had any connection with the suspect and his jewelry designs.
For several days after the letter had been sent, Nancy and her friends kept a fairly close watch on the black walnut tree at the edge of the clearing. But so
far as they could determine, no one visited the tree, either to leave money or to take it away.
“We’re wasting time watching this place,” Ned commented after the third day. “Whoever it is you’re looking for knows you’ve discovered the walnut-tree cache, and has probably moved to a safer locality.”
Nancy was inclined to agree with him. She felt very discouraged, for it seemed that she was making no progress whatever in solving the stolen jewelry mystery. Because she could report no success to Mrs. Putney, she avoided calling upon her.
But a letter from Mr. Johnson, the jewelry manufacturer, brought startling results. He wrote:
The crossed-twig design you described was never used in any work Brex did for us. We have also looked through other jewelers’ catalogs, but do not find anything like this design pictured.
However, some time ago, a simple-minded janitor in this office building received from Chicago a letter bearing an insigne of crossed twigs. The man was urged to invest money in stock of the Three Branch Ranch on the promise of doubling his funds. The scheme sounded dishonest, and I persuaded him to ignore it. I would have reported the stock sellers to the authorities, but unfortunately the janitor destroyed the letter before I had a chance to examine it.
Nancy took Mr. Johnson’s letter to her father, who read it carefully, then offered a suggestion.
“Why not notify the postal authorities? It’s against the law, as you know, to use the mail to promote dishonest schemes.”
“Will you do it for me, Dad? Your letterhead is so impressive!”
“All right, I’ll dictate a letter to my secretary this afternoon,” the lawyer promised.
Nancy decided to write a letter of her own to the Government Information Service to inquire if they had any record of a Three Branch Ranch. Three days later she received a reply. She was told that no such ranch was listed.
“This practically makes it certain the stock scheme is a swindle!” she declared. “The headquarters of the outfit may be in Chicago, but I’ll bet salesmen are working in other places.” Yet it was difficult for her to connect Brex, a clever designer of jewelry, with a crooked stock promotion.
Even though she had no conclusive information to convey, Nancy decided to call upon Mrs. Putney to ask a few questions. Just as she was about to leave the house, however, a taxi stopped in front, and the widow herself alighted.
Mrs. Putney looked even more worried than on the previous occasion.
“Poor thing,” Nancy said to herself. “I’d like to be able to help her!”
Nancy met Mrs. Putney at the front door, and cordially escorted her into the living room.
“I’ve come to see you, because you never come to my house,” the visitor scolded Nancy mildly.
“I haven’t been to see you lately, because I had nothing to report, Mrs. Putney. I intended to call today.”
“Then I’ll forgive you, my dear. If you were coming, you must have a clue.”
“Several of them, I hope. Before I tell you what I suspect, I must ask you a rather personal question, Mrs. Putney. Do you own any stock in the Three Branch Ranch?”
Nancy’s question seemed to take the widow completely by surprise.
“What—what do you know about the Three Branch Ranch?” she asked in a voice which quavered with emotion. Her faded eyes reflected stark fear.
CHAPTER VII
Matching Wits
ALARMED, Nancy called to Hannah Gruen, who came in hurriedly from the garden. Then she took Mrs. Putney’s arm and led her to a chair.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” said Nancy. “Please sit down, and Hannah will bring you a cup of tea.”
While Mrs. Gruen was in the kitchen preparing the tea, Mrs. Putney rested quietly.
“How did you discover—about the ranch?” she finally asked in a voice scarcely above a whisper.
Nancy remained silent as the widow slumped back in her chair. When the housekeeper brought her a cup of tea, she sipped it obediently. Presently she declared she felt much better.
“Please forgive me for having distressed you so,” begged Nancy.
“On the contrary, I should have told you sooner. Three days ago I had another message from my dear husband. He advised me to invest my money in a good, sound stock. Three Branch Ranch was recommended. That’s why I was so startled when you asked me about it, Nancy.”
“The message came to you at home?” Nancy inquired.
“No, through a medium. I heard of the woman and attended a seance at her home. It was very satisfying.”
“Who is she, and where does she live?”
The question took Mrs. Putney by surprise. “Why, I don’t know,” she said.
“You don’t know!” exclaimed Nancy. “Then how could you attend a séance in her home?”
“I learned of the woman through a friendly note which came in the mail. The message said if I cared to attend the séance, I should meet a car which would call for me that night.”
“The car came?”
“Yes. It was driven by a woman who wore a dark veil. During a rather long ride into the country, she never once spoke to me.”
“Yet you weren’t uneasy or suspicious?”
“It all seemed in keeping with what I had understood to be the general practice in such things. The ride was a long one, and I fell asleep. When I awakened, the car stood in front of a dark house.”
“You were taken inside?”
“Yes. The veiled woman escorted me to a room illuminated by only a dim, greenish light. When my eyes became accustomed to it, I saw a white, filmily clad figure lying on a couch. Through this medium, the spirit of my husband spoke to me.”
At the recollection, Mrs. Putney began to tremble again.
“Your husband advised you to invest money in the Three Branch Ranch!” Nancy said. “What else did he tell you?”
“That I should listen to no advice from any earthly person, and keep what he told me to myself. Oh, dear!”
“What’s the matter?” Nancy asked kindly.
“I’ve told too much already! I shouldn’t have revealed a word of this to anyone!”
The widow arose and in an agitated voice asked Nancy to call a taxi.
“I’ll drive you home myself,” Nancy offered.
During the ride, the young detective avoided further reference to the subject which so distressed her companion. But as she left the widow at her doorstep, she said casually:
“I suppose you did invest money in Three Branch Ranch?”
“Only a little. I gave what cash I had with me to the medium, who promised to use it to purchase the stock for me.”
“I don’t like to worry you, Mrs. Putney, but I’m afraid you may lose the money you invested.”
“Oh, I couldn’t. My husband’s judgment on business matters was excellent!”
“I don’t question that, Mrs. Putney. But I have evidence which convinces me you were tricked by a group of clever swindlers.”
Nancy then told of the letter she had received from the Government Information Service, saying no Three Branch Ranch was listed, and that the postal authorities had been notified.
“Promise me you’ll not invest another penny until the outfit can be thoroughly investigated.”
“I trust your judgment,” the widow said. “I promise.”
“And another thing. May I have the note you received telling of the séance?”
“I haven’t it. I was requested to return it to the medium as evidence of my good faith.”
“Oh, that’s a bad break for us,” Nancy said in disappointment. “Those fakers think of everything ! The letter might have provided a clue!”
“What can we do?”
“Don’t admit that you suspect trickery,” Nancy advised. “Sooner or later, another séance will be suggested and you will be requested to invest more of your money. Phone me the minute you receive another communication.”
“Oh, I will!” Mrs. Putney promised.
After leaving the
widow, Nancy began to speculate on how many others in River Heights might have been duped into buying the phony stock. The first one to come into her mind was Lola White. The second was the mysterious Sadie.
“Lola probably signed up for a lot of stock, and is paying the bill little by little, out of her wages,” Nancy surmised. “I must see her at once.”
Lola was not at her place of employment. Upon being told that the girl had not appeared for work that day because of illness, Nancy drove to the White cottage. Lola was lying in a hammock on the front porch, gazing morosely at the ceiling. She sat up and tried to look cheerful.
“How are you today?” Nancy inquired. “No bad effects from the river?”
“I’m all right, I guess,” Lola answered. “Thanks for what you did.”
“We were just fortunate to be there when you needed us,” replied Nancy. “By the way, do you feel like telling me why you were there?”
“No, I don’t,” Lola said sullenly.
Nancy did not press the matter. Instead, she asked her if she had ever heard of the Three Branch Ranch. Lola’s eyebrows shot up, but she shook her head.
Then Nancy told Lola that her real purpose in coming to call was to ask if she were acquainted with a girl named Sadie.
“Oh, you must mean the one who works at the Save-A-Lot Market,” Lola said. “I don’t know her last name.”
“Thanks a lot, Lola. I’ll go to see her.” As Nancy went down the porch steps she added, “Keep your chin up, Lola!”
Happy that she had obtained a lead, Nancy climbed into her convertible, waved to Lola, and sped away down the street.
When Nancy inquired at the market whether a girl named Sadie worked there, a tall blonde operating a cash register was pointed out. So busy that she was in no mood to talk, the girl frowned as Nancy paused and spoke to her.
“You’re Sadie?” Nancy asked, uncomfortably aware that she was delaying a line of customers.
“Sadie Bond,” the girl replied briskly.
“I’m trying to trace a Sadie interested in buying stock in a western ranch,” Nancy said, keeping her voice low.
“You’ve got the wrong girl, miss,” Sadie replied. “I don’t have money to buy ranches.”
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