“Good morning, silly,” Nancy said, grinning at him. “Togo, I have a big problem, but I’ll get up in a minute and play with you.”
Her thoughts returned to the puzzle of the night before. She recalled vividly the rough arm pressing against her throat, the hand gripping her left shoulder. The hand with broken nails and a diamond ring. The middle finger, she recalled, was unusually short.
Suddenly Nancy sat straight up. She remembered where she had seen a hand like that! It belonged to a man who had worked at Larry’s service station.
She realized that it might not be the same man. Probably lots of people have short middle fingers. But it was a clue.
Nancy dressed quickly and hurried down to breakfast to tell her father and Hannah Gruen of the night’s excitement. When she finished, Mr. Drew reached over and put his hand on his daughter’s arm.
“Be careful, Nancy. This thief sounds like a person who might become extremely dangerous if he thought you were on his trail.”
“Don’t worry, Dad.”
Mr. Drew folded his paper. “I think we’ll take the midnight train to Boston tomorrow night. That all right with you, Nancy?”
“I’ll be ready. You know I’m going up to Emerson to the dance tonight. I’ll be back by noon tomorrow.”
“Remember me to Ned,” her father said, a twinkle in his eye.
As soon as breakfast was over, Nancy hurried out to the garage, jumped into her convertible, and drove to Larry’s service station.
“Good morning,” Larry greeted her. “What’ll you have?”
“Fill it up,” Nancy said. “And I want to ask you some questions, if you don’t mind.”
“Go ahead.” Larry started filling the tank and listened while Nancy described the man who had once worked for him.
“You mean Howard Fay.” Larry frowned. “We fired him two years ago. He was light-fingered, I thought, but I couldn’t catch him with the goods.”
“Do you know where he is now?”
“No.”
Nancy thanked Larry and started the motor.
“By the way, his nickname was Flip,” he shouted as she pulled away.
Nancy drove to police headquarters, went directly to Chief McGinnis, and gave him the information, along with her reason for thinking Howard Fay might be the man who had robbed the Marvins.
“Thanks very much, Miss Drew,” the officer said. “Just one more debt this department owes you.”
Before starting on her trip to Emerson College, Nancy stopped by the Drew home. She put a pale-green evening dress into her suitcase, which already was packed, and drove off.
The closing dance of the college year was a gala one, and good-looking, athletic Ned was unusually attentive. When the dance was over, Ned suggested that Nancy take a walk with him around the campus in the moonlight before returning to the cottage where she was staying.
“A last request for many a moon.” Ned sighed.
“Why, what do you mean?” asked Nancy, laughing.
“Here you are off to Boston tomorrow on a ghost hunt,” Ned explained, “and I thought we’d see a lot of each other before I left for my counselor job at camp.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Ned,” said Nancy, “but Captain Easterly really needs our help.”
“Well, I suppose you must go,” Ned continued, “but I’ll miss you.”
“Look!” Nancy said suddenly. “Your camp isn’t far from Boston. If you get a chance, why don’t you stop at the hotel where Dad and I’ll be staying?”
“Fine!” said Ned. “That ship’s ghost is going to have competition when I arrive in Boston.”
Happy but a bit weary due to the late hour, Nancy said good night, hoping to see him in Boston.
She arrived in River Heights the next morning at noon. As she carried her suitcase up to her room, Mrs. Gruen called:
“Good morning, Nancy. Someone’s on the phone. I can’t make head nor tail of what he wants.”
Nancy picked up the telephone.
“I want Mr. Drew—Carson Drew,” a voice said gruffly.
“He’s not at home. May I take a message? This is his daughter.”
“You’ll do. Tell your father to stay away from Easterly’s ship. Do you hear?”
“Yes, I hear. But why—”
“I said stay away from Boston and that clipper.”
“Who are you?” Nancy demanded.
There was no reply. The instrument clicked and the connection was broken.
CHAPTER III
The Mysterious Clipper
NANCY telephoned her father at his office and repeated the mysterious message.
“His voice sounded so threatening, Dad. I’m afraid Captain Easterly may be in danger!”
“I believe we should take the next plane for Boston,” Mr. Drew answered soberly. “Can you be ready by two-thirty, Nancy?”
“I’ll pack for both of us right away.”
She called to Mrs. Gruen and Nancy told her the plan.
The housekeeper shook her head. “Sounds dangerous to me. Stay close to your father, Nancy. A young girl like you traipsing after criminals—” Hannah hustled upstairs to see that Mr. Drew’s clothes were properly packed.
The lawyer came home shortly to lunch and greeted his daughter affectionately. “The police have high praise for your detective work, Nancy. They ve been checking the movements of that gas-station attendant.”
“Flip Fay?”
Mr. Drew nodded. “He had been boarding at the south end of town. But night before last he moved away in a hurry without leaving a forwarding address. Looks as though you’ve put your finger on the thief, Nancy!”
“But he’s gone, Dad.”
Her father smiled grimly. “Criminals, like bad money, have a way of turning up sooner or later.”
The Drews were still at lunch when the door-bell rang. Mrs. Gruen hurried to answer it. Nancy listened, tense, then relaxed as she recognized the lively voices of her friends Bess Marvin and George Fayne.
Bess and George were cousins, but there any likeness ended. Bess, blond and pretty, had a penchant for second desserts and frilly dresses. She shared Nancy’s adventures out of deep loyalty to her but was constantly fearful of the dangers involved.
George was as boyish as her name. Her hair was dark, her face handsomely pert. George wore simple clothes and craved adventure.
After greeting the cousins, Carson Drew folded his napkin and pushed back his chair. “I’ll see you at the office at two-thirty, Nancy.”
He left the house and his daughter joined her friends in the living room.
“Hypers!” George exclaimed. “Why was I left out of all the excitement night before last?”
Bess shivered. “You mean you wish you’d been knocked out?” she asked, horrified.
George laughed. “Any news of the thief, Nancy?”
Nancy told the girls about Flip Fay. They remembered him and the short middle finger on his right hand. They hoped this slight deformity would make it easy for him to be identified and caught.
“And now, let’s talk about something pleasant,” Bess begged. “George, show Nancy your necklace.”
Bess’s cousin smiled ruefully. “My godmother is so fond of me, she just won’t believe I don’t like jewelry.”
George took a box from her pocket. In it on a fluff of cotton lay a dainty gold chain with a brillant red pendant.
“Of course it’s not a real ruby,” said Bess. “But it’s a wonderful imitation.”
“Why don’t you try it on, Bess?” suggested Nancy.
She undid the safety clasp and fastened the necklace around her friend’s plump, pretty neck. Bess admired the effect in a mirror.
“If it were a real ruby, it would be worth thousands of dollars,” she declared. “Rubies are among the most valuable jewels in existence.”
“More precious than diamonds?” her cousin asked.
Bess nodded. “I read a book once about gems. It said that rubies from Burma are the most valua
ble of all, especially the ones called ‘pigeon’s blood.’ That’s the color, of course.”
“If you don’t want it, you ought to give Bess the necklace,” Nancy told George. “Anyone who knows so much about rubies deserves to have one of her own. Even though it’s an imitation.”
George laughed. “Exactly what I had in mind. Bess, the necklace is yours.”
“You may be sorry you gave it to me, but thanks.”
Nancy told her friends of the proposed trip to Boston. After a brief visit, George and Bess helped her carry the suitcases to the convertible.
“I’ll drive you and your dad to the airport,” George volunteered, “and bring your car back.”
It was not long before the girls were saying good-by. Mr. Drew and Nancy stepped into the waiting plane, and in an hour were in Boston.
Nancy and her father registered at a comfortable hotel near Copley Square and taxied at once to the wharf where the three-masted Bonny Scot was tied up.
Captain Easterly, they were relieved to learn, was safe and in excellent health. He was delighted to see them, and proceeded at once to show them his unusual “home,” with its main deck, and quarters and mess for officers and crew.
Nancy marveled at the intricate passageways, the efficient galley, and the homelike atmosphere of the ship. The captain’s cabin was richly paneled in oak. Fastened on .the walls were carved figurines.
“I think your ship is fascinating,” Nancy told him as they seated themselves under an awning on the deck. “And it’s so large. I hadn’t any idea—”
The retired sea captain smiled proudly. “The Bonny Scot is not an unusually large clipper. But she’s sturdy enough to sail around the world!”
Mr. Drew told him about the mysterious telephone call they had received in River Heights. “Do you know of anyone who might have a reason for trying to dissuade me from coming here?”
Captain Easterly raised his shaggy eyebrows. “No,” he replied thoughtfully. “Mr. Farnsworth is the only person who knew that I had asked you to come. He’d have no reason to keep you away. In fact, he’d be the first one to welcome you. He’s just as eager as I am to have this matter of title cleared up.”
The elderly man leaned back in his chair. “Mr. Farnsworth inherited the ship from an uncle who bought it without a clear title. He has no papers telling about the early owners. And Farnsworth’s not the man to spend money to prove anything. So he’s about decided to drop the whole idea of selling me the ship. Wants me to keep on renting her.”
“And you don’t want to do that,” Mr. Drew put in.
The captain’s blue eyes blazed. “I’ve decided to buy her, and I mean to buy her!”
“And I don’t blame you a bit!” Nancy declared. “I love the Bonny Scot already.”
Captain Easterly was obviously delighted to have such an enthusiastic audience. While the setting sun played warmly on the ship’s deck, he pointed out the ways in which his clipper differed from the fishing schooners that were moored nearby.
“A clipper is square-rigged,” he said. “The way I figure, she’s got prettier lines than a schooner. I reckon you’d say she’s more streamlined. Notice her long prow.”
“Didn’t most clipper ships have figureheads on their prows?” Nancy asked.
The captain smiled. “That’s a good question. The Bonny Scot used to have a figurehead. You can see where it was fastened, right here under the bowsprit.”
“What became of it?”
“That’s one of the mysteries about this ship. The figurehead must have been lost or destroyed a long time ago. I’d certainly like to have it, or at least a duplicate. But nobody seems to know what it was—a man, or a—a wooden lady.” He smiled.
Carson Drew turned to his daughter. “Now there’s a project for you, Nancy. Find out what the clipper’s figurehead looked like. After you’ve cleared up the mystery of the ghostly visitor, that is. Has he bothered you lately, Captain?”
“I’m away from the ship a good bit,” Captain Easterly explained. “A couple of times, on my way home at night, I’ve seen a light moving aboard her. Saw it last night, as a matter of fact. But so far neither I nor the dockhands have been able to catch sight of anyone.”
He looked quizzically at Nancy. “Young eyes are keener than old ones. If you care to spend some time on board, young lady, perhaps you’ll be able to see the intruder.”
Nancy’s pulses quickened. “May I really? I’ll be here tomorrow!”
“If I’m not around when you arrive, don’t be alarmed. I’ll likely be out buying provisions. Just amuse yourself till I get back. It won’t be later’n eleven.”
Carson Drew and his daughter left. On their way to the hotel, Nancy talked enthusiastically about the clipper ship.
“I’m sure the Bonny Scot has a wonderful history. If we only knew more about it. And Captain Easterly is a dear! He’s so hospitable.”
Carson Drew’s eyes were sober. “The man doesn’t seem to realize that there may be danger aboard. We must get to the bottom of this quickly, Nancy, but with caution.”
The next day, Mr. Drew left their hotel soon after breakfast to start his search for legal data relating to the ship’s title. He planned to meet his daughter aboard the Bonny Scot at eleven o’clock.
As Nancy hurried toward the waterfront, she kept turning the mystery over in her mind. Why did the unknown visitor return again and again? Was he hunting for money or jewelry? Were there valuable papers hidden aboard?
The Bonny Scot rocked rhythmically alongside the wharf, majestic and peaceful. Nancy nodded to a dockhand and went aboard. Captain Easterly was not at home.
Nancy began to explore various parts of the ship. It was an eerie experience to be there alone in the stillness of the old vessel.
“Whoever comes here wants something desperately. He’ll keep coming back until he finds it. If I could only think of some way to trap him!” she thought.
Suddenly Nancy stopped at the foot of the main companionway. Someone was not far off—someone moving very softly.
CHAPTER IV
A Ghostly Prowler
HER heart pounding, Nancy slipped into the shadows and waited for the footsteps to come nearer.
She thought the intruder might come along the main companionway. In that case she would have a chance to see his face!
The young detective held her breath. The footsteps ceased abruptly. Although she waited for half a minute, there was no further sound.
Nancy’s better judgment told her not to allow herself to be trapped. She rushed up the companionway to the deck. There was the sudden squeak of oarlocks. Peering over the rail, she was in time to see a man in a rowboat pulling steadily away from the far side of the Bonny Scot. Was he the one who had been aboard, or an accomplice?
He wore soiled dungarees and a faded blue shirt. His lined, weather-beaten face and his grizzled beard told Nancy that he was not young, but he rowed with deep, powerful strokes and his little boat moved quickly away from the clipper.
The man must have felt her eyes following him, for he suddenly looked up and caught sight of her. With an angry scowl he redoubled his efforts. He would soon be out of sight among the small craft in the water.
Nancy ran ashore and approached two men who were pushing off in a small motorboat.
“Please take me,” she begged. “I want to follow that old sailor in the rowboat. I think he’s been trespassing on the Bonny Scot.”
“Sorry, lady.” One of them shrugged.
“But he may be a criminal,” Nancy pleaded.
“If he’s a criminal, it’s none of our business,” the other man told her. “Go tell the police.”
They started their motor and put-putted out into the choppy water.
Nancy looked quickly about her. There was no one else going out. Disappointed, she walked back toward the clipper.
She glanced at her watch. It was almost eleven o’clock. Her father would be along in a few minutes. As she stood on the pier, a taxi d
rew up and Mr. Drew stepped from it.
He smiled as his daughter hurried to meet him. “Is the captain on board?”
“No,” Nancy said. “I suppose he’ll be along soon.... Dad,” she whispered, “I think I’ve seen Captain Easterly’s mysterious visitor!”
“You work fast. Where is he?”
Nancy told him of her suspicions. “But maybe it wasn’t the old man after all. The ‘ghost’ may still be on board.”
Cautiously father and daughter searched but found no one on the clipper.
“It must have been that man in the rowboat,” Nancy declared. “But how did he get off the ship? There’s no rope ladder hanging down, and he didn’t use the gangplank.”
Mr. Drew looked thoughtful. “You’ve got a real mystery to solve, Nancy,” he said. “At least we know that the captain isn’t seeing ghosts.”
“What luck did you have, Dad?” Nancy asked. “Anything new on the ship’s title?”
The lawyer shook his head. “It’s going to be more difficult to trace than I had expected, I’m afraid. But I have a lead.”
“What is it?” Nancy asked eagerly.
“I’m going to New Bedford. There’s a very old shipbuilding firm there. I’ve been told that this company is a gold mine of information.”
“Then maybe you’ll find out something about the former owners of the Bonny Scot,” Nancy said hopefully. “Dad, you might even find a drawing of her figurehead for Captain Easterly.”
“Hope so.” Mr. Drew took a steel tape measure from his pocket. “I’ll need measurements of the ship if I’m going to describe her to the gentlemen in New Bedford.”
Nancy helped him, running back and forth across the deck, calling out feet and inches, while he made notes of the ship’s dimensions. They had almost finished when Carson Drew clapped his hand to his coat pocket. “I almost forgot a telegram that came for you, Nancy. I picked it up at the hotel.”
Nancy ripped open the yellow envelope. “Why, Dad,” she said, “Bess and George are coming to Boston to stay with met They’ll be here today—on the one-thirty plane. That’s wonderful. But what in the world—”
Suddenly Nancy caught the twinkle in her father’s eyes. “Dad, you sent for them!”
The Secret of the Wooden Lady Page 2