The Clue in the Old Stagecoach

by Carolyn G. Keene

  Nancy took hold of her companion’s arm and motioned that they had better leave. The two arose and hurried across the field. They had not gone more than three hundred feet when they heard a scream behind them.

  “Oh!” Nancy said worriedly. “There must be trouble at the cave-in!”

  Despite the fact that she and Rick might be discovered, the couple turned back to be of assistance if necessary. When they reached the torn-up area, the man who had been with the Monteiths was climbing out of the far side. Ross and Audrey Monteith lay face down and almost covered with dirt. They were not moving.

  “There’s been a landslide! We must save them!” Nancy murmured to Rick.

  By this time the companion of the stricken couple had disappeared. Nancy and Rick went down the side of the cave-in, hoping against hope there would not be another landslide. When they safely reached Ross and Audrey, Nancy dug frantically at the dirt around the woman, while Rick clawed to free Ross. Turning them over, their rescuers were delighted to find that the couple were still breathing. But both were unconscious.

  “Let’s drag Audrey up to the top first,” Nancy suggested.

  Together she and Rick half pulled, half carried the woman to the top and stretched her on the grass. Then they went back for Ross. As they neared the top of the cave-in with him, dirt began to slide away beneath them and it was only by giving a great leap to the top across the slipping soil that they made it safely.

  “Now what?” Rick asked, as he took a deep breath.

  Nancy felt the victims’ pulses, which were practically normal. Ross and Audrey seemed to have no bruises and she was sure they did not need medical aid.

  “We’ll wait out of sight until they come to,” she said. “Then I think we’d better hurry back to my car. I’d just as soon not have them know we were here.”

  Rick nodded. “And besides, if they’re going on to ‘try another place,’ I suppose you’d like to follow them.”

  “I certainly would,” Nancy answered.

  Fifteen minutes went by before Audrey and Ross Monteith put in an appearance at their car. They showed signs of the shock of their experience and it did not surprise Nancy and Rick to find that the couple drove directly back to Camp Merriweather.

  “I guess,” said Nancy, “that whatever else the Monteiths had in mind they’re not going to carry it out this evening. I’ll talk to the police in the morning: ”

  Rick agreed heartily and on the strength of this the two slipped into the hotel by a back entrance and went up a rear stairway so no one would see the grime which covered their faces, arms, and clothes.

  “Meet you in twenty minutes,” Rick called cheerily, as he started up another flight above the floor on which Nancy’s bedroom was located.

  The rest of the evening was spent dancing, but in between numbers Nancy and Rick brought Bess, George, and their partners up to date on what had happened. Later the cousins plied Nancy with more detailed questions.

  “Ross and Audrey must certainly wonder who rescued them,” said George. “Why don’t you tell them and then maybe they’ll be caught off guard and spill the truth about their plans.”

  “I’m sure they’ll never do it,” Nancy told her friends. “And I can see a great advantage in leaving the whole thing mysterious. They must know now that they were followed.”

  Bess gave a little giggle. “I’d hate to be in their shoes. If I were out to do something shady, and got knocked out and was rescued by a person or persons who didn’t tell me about it, boy, would I be worried!”

  Nancy grinned. “That’s just what I’m counting on. And then there’s that man who went off without trying to help the Monteiths. And the man they met first. When one or both of them find out Ross and Audrey were mysteriously rescued, there may be a big powwow among the three or four of them.”

  “I see what you mean,” said George. “The man who left believing the Monteiths were dead may even think he’ll have the whole scheme, whatever it is, to himself. When he finds out Ross and Audrey are still in it, the whole bunch may be afraid to go on with any sinister plans.”

  “Is this what you call a mystery within a mystery?” Bess asked. “You lost me somewhere.”

  “I suppose it is,” Nancy replied. “But someday I hope to find out the answers. Since I’ve been warned to leave here, it’s just possible all this has something to do with the clue in the old stagecoach. If the Monteiths and their confederates give up, it may make things easier for us.”

  Nancy then said she was going to call on Mrs. Pauling the next morning. “I’ll ask her if she’d be willing to pay the Zuckers for the old Langstreet stagecoach if it’s found on their property. Then at least it could be restored.”

  The three girls hurried into bed but were up early and ready for the trip next morning. Nancy talked to the police, then started off for Mrs. Pauling’s home.

  She was just finishing her breakfast in the modern, attractively decorated dining room, and invited them to share pieces of homemade toasted cinnamon bread and cocoa with her. Its aroma was so delightful the girls could not refuse and sat down with her.

  “How is the stagecoach mystery coming?” Mrs. Pauling asked, smiling.

  “We may have a little problem,” Nancy replied, then added, “If the old stagecoach is found on the Zucker property, the young couple may feel they should be reimbursed if it is taken away.”

  “I’ll be very happy to take care of that,” Mrs. Pauling said quickly. “And I’ll do even more. I’ll pay for having it restored and taken to Bridgeford.” She sighed, then added, “How I wish I had money enough to build a new school for the community! But that would be beyond my means.”

  “It’s wonderful to have you help the restoration,” Nancy remarked. She said the girls were going to the Zucker farm at once, and if permitted, would start digging operations to hunt for the old vehicle.

  “I wish you luck—much luck,” Mrs. Pauling said as she waved farewell to them from the front door a little while later.

  When Nancy, Bess, and George reached the Zucker farm, they were warmly greeted by Marjory and Morton. The couple were delighted to learn that Mrs. Pauling would be willing to pay for the old stagecoach if it were found on the property.

  “Do you want to start searching right away?” Morton asked.

  “Yes, indeed,” Nancy answered. “I hope that you have lots of digging tools.”

  “That’s one thing I do have.” Morton laughed. He went to the barn and brought a spade, a shovel, and a pickax. Marjory produced a large garden trowel.

  “The baby’s asleep now,” she said, “so I can help you. I’ll put Jimmy in his play pen and wheel him to wherever we’re going.”

  A lengthy discussion took place as to the most likely spot in which Mr. Langstreet might have buried the stagecoach. The ground beneath the original buildings was discarded by Nancy, who felt he would have been afraid that the structures might be razed and the old vehicle found.

  “I’m sure it was not Mr. Langstreet’s intention at first that anyone was ever to know where it was. It was only years later, just before his death, that hr decided to tell.”

  Morton and Marjory had another theory. “All the plowed fields on this farm have been gone over many times,” Morton remarked. “It seems to me that the old stagecoach would have been found long before this if it had been buried in one of the fields.”

  The others agreed and Marjory said, “That only leaves the woods. The question, now, is which woods?”

  Morton pointed out that all of them were a bit swampy with the exception of a wooded knoll about a thousand feet from the house. “I vote that we start digging there,” he suggested.

  “Let’s go!” said George, starting across the field with a spade swung over her shoulder.

  Nancy helped Mrs. Zucker half carry, half roll the baby’s play pen across the rough ground. They parked the infant in the shade of one of the trees, then all started digging with a will.

  Dirt piled up in mounds, as the
diggers went from one spot to another. Presently they stood under a dead tree next to the one where the baby was asleep.

  Digging started here with great energy. Suddenly they heard a cracking sound and Bess screamed:

  “George, run!”

  CHAPTER XIV

  A Hopeful Discovery

  WITHOUT asking the reason, George dropped her spade and ran some distance away. A moment later a large limb of the dead tree crashed to the ground.

  Nancy, working on the other side of the old tree, had looked up at Bess’s cry and realized what was going to happen. She feared that the dead wood might splinter and one or more pieces hit the baby!

  Jumping to the play pen, she wheeled it out of the way. She too was just in time. Chunks of wood were hurled through the air. Some of them landed exactly where the play pen had stood!

  “Oh, Nancy,” Mrs. Zucker cried out, “you kept my baby from being hurt!” She hugged Nancy, then picked up the infant, who had been jolted awake by this time and had begun to cry. “I—I think I’ll go back to the house,” the young mother added.

  In the meantime George’s heartbeat had returned to normal. She thanked her cousin for the warning, then grinned ruefully. “I’d have had a pretty bad bump if that old limb had ever hit me!”

  Morton Zucker said he felt responsible for the whole thing. He had promised himself many times to take down the dead tree but had never seemed to have time.

  “But you can bet it’s going to come down fast now,” he said with determination.

  The diggers decided to go on with their work but to have one of them as a lookout at all times.

  “I’ll watch first,” Bess offered, and kept her eyes on the rotted limbs of the old tree.

  Nancy, George, and Morton dug furiously. Several times they hit roots. At these moments the searchers hoped they had struck a piece of the old stagecoach or at least a container holding some of its parts. But they had no luck and moved on to another location.

  At noontime Bess spoke up. “Let’s take a rest. I forgot to tell you girls I brought some lunch for us. I had the camp chef pack it.”

  She went for the package and the three girls sat down in the shade of the knoll to eat roast-beef sandwiches, tomatoes, and cake. Morton, upon learning they had brought their own food, went to the house to get his lunch. In an hour he was back and the work continued.

  Time after time fragments of tools and hardware were dug up, but none of them belonged to an old stagecoach. Bess and George became weary of their task. They were just about to suggest quitting, when Morton, who had been quiet for several minutes, called out from a distance:

  “Maybe this is what you’re looking for!”

  The three girls rushed to his side, just as he lifted up an old wheel.

  “We’ve found it!” Bess shrieked excitedly.

  The whole group dug furiously in the vicinity. Presently they unearthed a matching wheel, then a third, finally a fourth. All were in bad condition and two would fall apart if lifted up.

  “Now where shall we dig?” George asked.

  Morton said he thought one person’s guess was as good as another. “Why don’t we dig all the way around these wheels?” he suggested.

  They did this and within a few minutes uncovered some rotted leather straps.

  “Oh, this is so thrilling!” Bess exclaimed, putting her full weight onto the spade she was using. “I’ve hit something!”

  Nancy helped her dig and presently they uncovered a long board. Further digging revealed rusty hinges once attached to the plank. Then came another board evidently originally hinged to the other, but now rotted apart.

  “Maybe this is what you’re looking for!”

  At almost the same time Morton uncovered a series of long boards. He frowned, then said regretfully, “These could not have belonged to a stagecoach. This was just a farm wagon. It’s my guess the wagon was wrecked at this spot or dragged here and time covered it with earth.”

  Bess seemed more disappointed than the others. She had felt so sure the mystery was about to be solved, the frustrated girl was almost in tears.

  “This is just awful!” she said, flopping to the ground. “All this work and nothing but a busted old wagon!”

  “And it’s been here a long time, I’ll bet,” said George. “I wonder if it belonged to Abner Langstreet.”

  Nancy thought it might have. “If he took his old stagecoach apart and carried the pieces away, he would have needed some kind of vehicle to cart it in.”

  Bess was inconsolable. “If we keep on digging, we may find the bones of the horses to this wagon,” she said. “I vote we quit right now. Anyway, George and I promised to play tennis late this afternoon.”

  Morton said that he too would have to stop work and do the evening farm chores. “But I shan’t stop digging entirely,” he promised Nancy. “You have my curiosity aroused. If that old stagecoach is buried on this farm, I’ll find it!”

  Nancy was very weary herself from the arduous work and did not argue about stopping. They all trudged back to the farmhouse where Mrs. Zucker insisted they have glasses of cold milk. The girls washed their faces and hands and then sat down in the living room to cool off.

  “I had callers while you were at work,” said Marjory Zucker.

  “Callers?” Nancy repeated.

  “Yes, a man and a woman about thirty years old. They asked if this was the Robert Smith farm. Of course I told them no.”

  “Did you give them your name?” Nancy asked.

  “Yes.”

  Marjory went on to say that the couple had stood near their car and watched the digging operation at the knoll. The man had asked what was going on.

  “You didn’t tell them?” Nancy asked worriedly.

  “Oh, no,” Marjory replied. “I said farmers are always digging.”

  “Good for you!” George spoke up.

  Nancy asked for descriptions of the couple and the car. Upon hearing them, she looked at Bess and George. There was no question in any of their minds. The callers had been Audrey and Ross Monteith!

  “Do you know the people who were here?” Marjory asked. “I had an idea they might have suspected it was you at the knoll, Nancy, because they asked who owned your car. When I ignored the question, they looked at each other as if they knew.”

  “We know them all right,” said Nancy. “They’re staying at the same lodge where we are. We find them—well, a little too interested in our affairs!”

  “I see,” Marjory answered with an understanding smile.

  The three girls said good-by, adding that they might return soon. As they drove off toward the main road, Bess wore a worried frown. “I don’t like it at all that Audrey and Ross Monteith were here!”

  “I don’t either,” Nancy agreed.

  CHAPTER XV

  Startling News

  “WHEN we get home,” said George, her jaw set firmly, “I’m going to have it out with Ross and Audrey Monteith! They’re a pain, and besides, I can’t take being followed any longer.”

  Nancy tried to dissuade her friend from carrying out her threat. “It may only drive Ross and Audrey into hiding and then they’ll have the advantage over us. They’ll know where we are, but we won’t know where they are.”

  “All right,” George finally conceded. “But it certainly burns me up having them act the way they do.”

  After the girls had put the car in the parking lot, they walked up to the front of Camp Merriweather lodge. Rick Larrabee and his friends arose from a nearby bench to greet them. All three looked very sober.

  “I’m glad you came,” said Rick. “We have news for you.”

  Before he could go on, Hobe White burst forth with, “The Monteiths have checked out!”

  “What!” the three girls exclaimed together.

  Rick explained that he and the other fellows had decided to do some sleuthing. “We thought we’d surprise you girls,” he said. “To our amazement, we learned that the Monteiths had packed their bags an
d left Merriweather before breakfast.”

  “Where did they go?” Nancy asked quickly.

  Rick shrugged. “I asked the clerk if he knew where. All he could tell me was that the Monteiths had asked that their mail be forwarded to a post-office box in New York City.”

  “And that sounds zany to me,” said Hobe. “The Monteiths have been here for two weeks. The clerk says they haven’t received one piece of mail.”

  “That does look suspicious,” Nancy agreed. “It wouldn’t surprise me if the Monteiths have moved to another hotel in this area, or more likely to a private home and perhaps under an assumed name.”

  “What about their car license?” Bess asked. “Wouldn’t that give them away?”

  Nancy smiled and said, “When I phoned the police this morning, they told me the car which the Monteiths are driving is registered in the name of Frank Templer.”

  “So they are using an assumed name!” George cried out. “I knew they were phonies from the start.”

  “Not so fast,” said Nancy. “The Monteiths might have borrowed the car from Mr. Frank Templer.”

  “Or,” Rick spoke up, “Ross’s real name may be Frank Templer,” and Nancy nodded.

  Rick now told the girls his other bit of news. “We fellows are mighty sorry, but we must leave camp right away.”

  “Now?” asked Bess, genuinely sorry to hear this. Nancy and George were too.

  “I’m afraid so,” Rick answered. “A little while ago I had word that my father is very ill. Mother wants me to come home. I told Hobe it wasn’t necessary for him to drive me there—that I’d take the train.”

  “But I insisted,” said Hobe. “We’re leaving in a little while. I hope you girls get your mystery solved. Lots of luck!”

  Nancy thanked Rick for all the help he had given her. She and the other girls said they hoped Mr. Larrabee would have a speedy recovery.

  Hobe’s car was parked not far from the hotel entrance. The whole group now walked over to it and the boys climbed aboard. Good-bys were said and the girls waved as the car went down the driveway and out the entrance gate.