The Secret of the Forgotten City

by Carolyn Keene

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  CHAPTER I - Fleetfoot Joe

  CHAPTER II - Safari Plans

  CHAPTER III - Vanished Guests

  CHAPTER IV - The Wiretapper

  CHAPTER V - The Fake Tablet

  CHAPTER VI - The Dangerous Hole

  CHAPTER VII - Petroglyphs

  CHAPTER VIII - Say It in Code

  CHAPTER IX - The Weird Valley

  CHAPTER X - Call for Miss Antler

  CHAPTER XI - New Clues

  CHAPTER XII - A Deadly Necklace

  CHAPTER XIII - Telltale Wallet

  CHAPTER XIV - Hidden River

  CHAPTER XV - Gold!

  CHAPTER XVI - A Skeleton Dance

  CHAPTER XVII - A Capture

  CHAPTER XVIII - Surprise Gift

  CHAPTER XIX - Nancy Disappears

  CHAPTER XX - A Fagot of Treasure

  THE SECRET OF THE FORGOTTEN CITY

  Gold! There are rumors that long ago a treasure was hidden in a city now buried under the Nevada desert.

  Nancy and her friends plan to join a dig sponsored by two colleges to hunt for the gold. Before she starts, the young sleuth receives an ancient stone tablet with petroglyphs on it. With this amazing clue, however, come a threat and danger from a thief who also wants the treasure.

  One harrowing adventure after another besets Nancy, Bess, George, Ned, Burt, and Dave in 102-degree temperatures as they pursue Nancy’s hunches above and below ground. They are assisted by a fine Indian woman and a young geology student, but both are unwilling participants in a strange plot.

  In the end Nancy and Ned nearly lose their lives, just after she has discovered the priceless hidden treasure of gold.

  “Perhaps I can translate what these men are saying,” Nancy said.

  Copyright © 1977, 1975, 1947 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved.

  Published by Grosset & Dunlap, Inc., a member of The Putnam &

  Grosset Group, New York. Published simultaneously in Canada. S.A.

  NANCY DREW MYSTERY STORIES® is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster,

  Inc. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Grosset & Dunlap, Inc. Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 77-76129

  eISBN : 978-1-101-07753-5

  2008 Printing

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  CHAPTER I

  Fleetfoot Joe

  “Au! Au! Au!” cried Ned Nickerson, as he eased himself out of his car and hurried toward the open front door of the Drew home.

  Nancy, who was waiting for him, leaped to his side. “Ned, what happened? You’re hurt!”

  The tall dark-haired athlete burst into laughter and kissed her. “No hurts at all. I didn’t say ‘Ouch, ouch, ouch!’ I said, ‘Au! Au! Au!’ ”

  “What does that mean?” asked the attractive strawberry blond, as she led him indoors. “Please stop talking in riddles.”

  The couple sat down on the living-room couch. “Well?” Nancy prompted.

  “Au refers to a treasure buried deep underground,” Ned replied. “Want to help find it?”

  “Of course,” Nancy said, excited at the thought of a mystery. “Where is it and what is it?”

  Ned grinned. “I’ll give you a hint. Think of some chemistry symbols.”

  At once Nancy guessed the answer. “How stupid of me not to have thought of gold. Au is the symbol for it. Tell me where and what this treasure is.”

  “Not until everyone gets here,” Ned replied.

  “Everyone? Who is everyone?” Nancy asked.

  Ned’s eyes twinkled. “First there were two. Then there were four. Now we number six.”

  “You’re being exasperating,” Nancy said. “Shall I guess again?”

  When he nodded, she mentioned her closest friends, Bess Marvin and George Fayne, who were cousins. The three girls lived in River Heights and had been friends for years. Then she named two boys who were fraternity brothers of Ned’s at Emerson College.

  “Right,” Ned replied. “Your Dad, who, by the way, is enthusiastic about your recovering this gold, invited them here to dinner tonight. Your kind housekeeper, Hannah Gruen, knows the secret and is preparing my favorite dish.”

  “Which is—hot-pepper salad,” Nancy teased. “But tell me, why all the secrecy? It’s not my birthday!”

  Ned answered with a grin. “We wanted to see if we could keep our plan a secret from the world’s most famous girl detective.”

  Nancy blushed, but before she had a chance to answer, she and Ned heard shouting out in the street.

  Ned leaped to a front window. Nancy, glancing out of a side window, saw a man dashing down the long Drew driveway toward the rear of the property.

  A woman’s large handbag swung from one hand!

  “Quick, Ned!” Nancy shouted. “Follow me!”

  As the couple dashed through the kitchen, she called to the startled housekeeper, “Hannah, run out the front door. I think a woman on the sidewalk has just been robbed!”

  Nancy and Ned rushed from the kitchen door in time to observe the thief pausing at the thick hedge that separated the Drews’ yard from the property at the rear. Seeing the couple, he pushed his way through the bushes, since they were too high for him to vault.

  “Nancy, run to the side street,” Ned suggested. “If that man tries to escape that way, yell and I’ll come running.”

  As Ned finished speaking, he was halfway through the hedge. Nancy ran back of the garage to the side street. She looked up and down the pavement, then into the yard. Suddenly the thief dashed out from behind a neighbor’s house toward a car whose motor was running. A man sat at the wheel.

  “Stop!” Nancy cried out. When the suspect kept going, she ordered, “Drop that handbag!”

  The stranger did neither, but just as he reached the car, Ned leaped toward him. The man tossed the bag at Nancy with a vicious thrust and jumped into the car. It roared off. Ned had missed him, and Nancy had had to move aside to avoid being hit by the car.

  Her mind, however, had recorded a good image of the suspected thief. He was five feet ten, rather large-boned, had tanned, tightly drawn skin, black eyes, and shiny black hair.

  “Part Indian,” Nancy told herself, as she picked up the handbag and was joined by Ned.

  “Too bad that fellow got away,” he commented. “I memorized the license number.” He repeated it to Nancy. “The man should be easy to trace.”

  Nancy and Ned walked to the front lawn to find out what Hannah had learned. An odd picture met their eyes. A short, stout Indian woman, about fifty years old, sat on the ground with her legs crossed under her. She was staring into space, oblivious of Hannah Gruen, who was trying to comfort her.

  The Indian kept murmuring, “Nancy Drew, Nancy Drew!”

  As the girl appeared, holding the handbag, she said kindly, “Here is your bag, and I am Nancy Drew.”

  The woman looked up, took her property, and without speaking opened the bag. An expression of dismay crossed her face and she uttered an involuntary “Oh!”

  A woman’s large handbag swung from the thief’s hand.

  “Is something missing?” Nancy asked.

  “Records. My ancestors’ records.”

  Then the woman thought of something. She unzipped a pocket in the lining of the bag and drew out a thin stone slab about five by seven inches, on which several crude figures and symbols had been chiseled.

  “These are petroglyphs and very old,” the woman explained. “There were six other tablets in the bag. I planned to bring only this one, but I didn’t want to leave the others unguarded in my house, so I brought them.”

  Hannah Gruen s
poke. “I think we should all go into the house and talk.”

  “And call the police,” Nancy added. “I’ll do that immediately. Oh, by the way, what is your name and address?” she asked the Indian.

  “Mrs. Wabash. My home is in Nevada, but I am staying at the River View Motel across town. I walked over here.”

  As Mrs. Wabash rose, with Ned helping her, Nancy hurried into the house to phone police headquarters. By the time she had given all the pertinent facts to the sergeant on duty, the other three walked inside. Everyone sat down in the living room except Hannah, who went to get cool drinks and pieces of nut-covered sponge cake for the guests.

  Mrs. Wabash apologized profusely for all the trouble she had caused, and thanked Nancy and Ned sincerely for recovering her handbag and at least one of the stone tablets.

  “I’m sure the thief will be caught soon,” Nancy assured her. “Anyway, what could he do with the records?”

  The Indian woman sipped the drink Hannah had served. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I have studied ancient stones with petroglyphs—that’s picture-carving on stone—and made a sort of dictionary of their meanings. The only copy I had was in my handbag.”

  There was a pause, then Nancy said, “It’s a shame the pages were taken. Had you translated the history of your family or of any tribe?”

  “It is still a puzzle as to what the history is, but I’ve done the best I could,” Mrs. Wabash replied. “Many symbols could have two or more interpretations. For instance, the mark of a hand with twisting, turning lines emerging from it could have indicated a journey’s end; or it could be the artist’s signature. I have heard you are clever at codes and thought maybe you could solve this mystery.”

  As the Indian finished speaking, the phone began to ring. When Nancy answered it, a man’s deep voice said, “Is Mrs. Wabash still there? Yes? Tell her I have her stone tablets and papers and won’t give ’em up. As for you, Miss Drew, don’t try to help her. You’re quick, but you’re no match for Fleetfoot Joe. My spying on Mrs. Wabash has paid off. Now the Great Flying Bird is carrying me away.” The man hung up.

  Nancy stood lost in thought for a few moments, then returned to the living room. “Mrs. Wabash,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm, “do you know a Fleetfoot Joe?”

  “I’ve heard of him out in Nevada. He’s only part Indian. A bad man. He steals things, then sells them to tourists as old artifacts he claims to have found himself.”

  Suddenly Nancy jumped from her chair, excused herself, and hurried to the telephone, repeating the words, “‘The Great Flying Bird.’ Surely that’s an airplane. But is it privately or commercially owned?”

  She dialed the number of the River Heights Airport, got the information desk, and asked whether a plane had just left for New York.

  “Yes,” was the answer.

  “Did anyone make a reservation for someplace in Nevada?”

  Nancy waited while the assistant checked. The answer was no, and the woman could not recall from Nancy’s description any passenger who resembled the suspected robber.

  The young detective now asked, “Did a private plane take off?”

  She was transferred to another office. There she learned that a privately owned plane had left ten minutes earlier. Its destination was St. Louis.

  “The owner is named Robert Wapley,” the speaker concluded.

  “Thank you,” said Nancy.

  Before leaving the phone she called her friend Police Chief McGinnis and gave him a word-for-word account of what had happened since her previous report. He was astounded and said he would get in touch with security officers at the St. Louis airports, public and private.

  Then he added, “Great work, Nancy! Well have this Fleetfoot Joe in custody in no time!”

  Once more Nancy returned to the living room. Everyone was standing, and Mrs. Wabash was saying good-by.

  “Mrs. Wabash,” said Nancy quickly, “what was your real purpose in coming to see me?”

  “It’s no use now,” the Indian woman replied. “All the papers and most of the plaques I planned to show you are gone. I have no clues to offer.”

  “Clues to what?” Nancy asked.

  Mrs. Wabash looked at the girl with tears in her eyes. “Clues to a lost treasure in the Forgotten City.”

  CHAPTER II

  Safari Plans

  EVERYONE in the Drew living room leaned forward in his chair, eagerly awaiting more of Mrs. Wabash’s story.

  “There are many, many pictures cut into the stolen tablets,” she said, “but the main theme seems to tell when and where a treasure of gold was hidden. As you know, the ancient Indians in the United States did not use gold to any extent. Probably one reason was that it was too difficult to work with, and their tools were crude.

  “It is a great mystery as to the exact nature of this treasure, but from what I can judge, the tablets depict several golden sheets. How big they are, one cannot tell. And when they were made and where they came from is also a mystery.”

  Just then someone pounded on the front door, and the bell rang loudly. Puzzled, Nancy went to open the door.

  “Hi, Nancy! Surprise!” cried four voices together.

  Nancy beamed. Bess Marvin, George Fayne, and their dates were standing there, grinning.

  “The surprise is great,” Nancy replied. “Come in. I have a surprise of my own to show you.”

  George, a girl who enjoyed her boyish name, walked in first. She was slender and athletic looking and wore her hair short. Bess in contrast was blond with longer hair. She was slightly plump and pretty.

  Burt Eddleton, George’s date, was a stocky brunet and one could surmise at a glance that he was a football player. Dave Evans, Bess’s friend, had dark hair and eyes, and though he too was a football player, he had a much slighter build than Burt.

  The young people walked into the living room and were introduced to Mrs. Wabash. “I am very glad to meet you,” she replied. Smiling, she added, “I am Nancy’s surprise.”

  Ned laughed. “Well, kids, the joke is on us. We thought we were going to keep a secret from Nancy Drew, and I find she’s way ahead of us. She has a wonderful lead.”

  “What is it?” George asked eagerly.

  Nancy requested Mrs. Wabash to repeat the part of her story she had already told, and then to continue with the rest of it.

  “You probably wonder how I happened to come to see Nancy Drew. A friend of mine who sometimes lectures at the University of Nevada, Professor Donald Maguire, has been trying to help me decipher the petroglyphs. The tablets came into my possession a few months ago. We concluded that the pictures indicate that several golden sheets were hidden, probably in the desert.”

  Dave spoke. “Mrs. Wabash, have you any idea how old the gold sheets are?”

  The woman shook her head. “I am hoping that when they are found, they will contain symbols that will tell us their age and where the gold came from.”

  The whole story intrigued Nancy, who wanted to start out at once to hunt for the precious treasure. Each new case fascinated her from the time she first was asked to solve The Secret of the Old Clock through many adventures up to the most recent one, Mystery of the Glowing Eye.

  Mrs. Wabash went on, “Don Maguire heard at the University of Nevada that Nancy was going on a dig out in the desert.”

  “I was what?” Nancy interrupted.

  The other young people laughed and Ned said, “That was really the surprise we had for you. Some Emerson students and their friends are joining a group from the University of Nevada and going into the desert to search for a forgotten city, or at least some of the artifacts the ancient people may have left.”

  Nancy’s eyes sparkled. “How wonderful!” she exclaimed. “You all did manage to keep the secret, and even though I accidentally came upon what may be a clue, you did surprise me. I think this is exciting. When do we leave?”

  Ned replied, “We consulted your dad and he said you may go any time, but you will probably want to f
inish a little job he has given you. He thinks it will take two or three days.”

  Mrs. Wabash said, “Professor Don Maguire told me that Nancy is the finest amateur detective in the country, and that is the reason why I came all the way to River Heights to see her.”

  She informed Nancy’s friends about the theft of her dictionary and her precious stone tablets and concluded by saying, “I don’t know whether I have an enemy or the thief merely wanted to get hold of the tablets. With them he could try solving the mystery himself and find the gold.

  “In any case, I have decided to leave this one tablet with you, Nancy. See what you can figure out, and if you can possibly trace the others, it will make me very happy.”

  “Thank you,” said Nancy. “I’ll make a drawing of this plaque and keep the original in a safe place. When I come out to Nevada, I’ll return it to you.”

  Before saying good-by the Indian told the young people that a young woman in Nevada named Miss Antler might be of great help to them. “Try to locate her when you get out there.”

  Dave offered to drive Mrs. Wabash back to the motel and she accepted. Nancy’s thoughts returned to the tablet, which she picked up to study.

  Suddenly the young sleuth wondered if her eyes were deceiving her. A small figure in the lower left-hand corner was glowing. It looked like a scorpion, its head raised high.

  “Look, everybody!” Nancy cried out.

  As her friends crowded around the tablet, the figure faded. Though Nancy tried hard to explain what she had seen, the others thought the girl detective was joking.

  “Nancy Drew, you’re imagining things,” Bess said. “I don’t see a thing there. All those funny little pictures are on the other parts of this tablet.”

  No more was said, but Nancy wondered about the strange occurrence. The scorpion did not light up again, but through her magnifying glass, Nancy could see the arachnid plainly. She continued to study the scorpion. Had some trick of the sunlight coming into the room suddenly made it glint? She tried holding the tablet in the exact position she had held it before. Nothing happened.