At that very moment the clock on the mantel chimed twelve. Abby’s eyes fluttered open and an odd expression passed over her face.
For an instant she stared straight before her, then slowly turned her head and fastened her eyes on the clock.
CHAPTER IX
Helpful Disclosures
NANCY watched Abby Rowen intently as the mantel clock finished striking. The elderly woman’s lips had begun to move.
“The clock!” she whispered. “That was it! The clock!”
Nancy gripped the arms of her chair in excitement. “Josiah Crowley hid the will in a clock?” she prompted.
“No—no, it wasn’t that,” Abby murmured, sighing again. “I know Josiah said something about a clock, but whatever it was has slipped my mind.”
Silence descended over the room. Nancy was wondering what connection the timepiece could have with the missing will. Mrs. Rowen was staring at the clock, evidently still trying to probe her memory.
Suddenly she gave a low cry. “There! It came to me just like that!”
“What, Mrs. Rowen?” Nancy urged quietly, lest she startle the old woman into forgetfulness.
“A notebook!” Abby exclaimed triumphantly.
Nancy’s heart gave a leap, but she forced herself to say calmly, “Please tell me more about this notebook.”
“Well, one day not long before he passed away, Josiah said to me, ‘Abby, after I’m dead, if my last will isn’t found, you can learn about it in this little book of mine.’ ”
“Do you know what became of the notebook, Mrs. Rowen?”
“Oh dearie me! There goes my memory again. No, I don’t.”
Although baffled, Nancy felt a growing conviction that the whereabouts of the Crowley will was definitely tied up with a clock of some kind. But, she pondered, why did the striking of the mantel clock remind Abby Rowen of the notebook?
Impulsively Nancy got up and went over to the mantel. She looked inside the glass front and in the back. There were no papers inside.
Returning to her chair, Nancy asked the elderly woman, “What became of the furnishings of the Crowley home when he gave it up?”
“The Tophams got ’most everything.”
“There must have been a family clock,” Nancy mused, half to herself.
“A family clock?” Abby repeated. “Oh, yes, there was a clock.”
“Can you describe it?”
“It was just an ordinary mantel type, something like mine—tall, with a square face,” the woman told Nancy. “Only Josiah’s was fancier. Had some kind of a moon on top.”
“What became of the clock?” Nancy questioned.
“I suppose the Tophams got it, too.”
At last Nancy, sure she had done all she could for Abby, and that she had learned as much as possible for the present, rose to depart. After saying good-by, she stopped at a neighboring house and asked the occupants to look in occasionally on the ailing woman.
“I think maybe one of the county’s visiting nurses should see Mrs. Rowen,” she suggested.
“I’ll phone the agency,” the neighbor offered. “Meanwhile, I’ll go over myself. I’m so sorry I didn’t know about Mrs. Rowen.”
As Nancy drove toward River Heights, she jubilantly reviewed the new facts in the case. “Now, if I can only locate Mr. Crowley’s notebook—or clock—or both!”
Nancy’s brow knit in concentration. How would she go about tracking down the old timepiece?
“I guess,” she concluded, “if the Tophams do have the clock, I’ll have to pay them a visit!”
While she did not relish the idea of calling on the unpleasant family, Nancy was determined to pursue every possible clue. “I can just see Ada’s and Isabel’s expressions when I appear at their front door,” Nancy thought wryly. “Well, I’ll think of some excuse to see them.”
She was still mulling over the problem when she pulled into the driveway of her home and heard a familiar voice calling her name.
“Why, Helen Corning!” exclaimed Nancy, as a slim, attractive school friend of hers ran up. “I haven’t seen you for days.”
“I’ve been busy lately,” Helen explained, “trying to sell six tickets for a charity ball. But I haven’t had much luck. Would you like a couple?”
A sudden idea flashed into Nancy’s mind at her friend’s words. “Helen,” she said excitedly, “I’ll buy two of your tickets and sell the rest for you.”
The other girl stared in astonishment. “Why, that’s a wonderful offer, Nance. But—”
Nancy’s eyes danced. “I know you think I’ve lost my mind. I really mean it, though. Please let me take the tickets! I can’t tell you my reasons yet—except my cause is a worthy one.”
Helen, looking relieved but bewildered, handed over the tickets. “This is really a break for me,” she said. “Now I can leave for my aunt’s Camp Avondale this evening as I’d hoped. It’s at Moon Lake. I thought I’d never get off, with those tickets unsold!”
Nancy smiled “Have a grand time, Helen,” she said.
“How about coming along? It’s not expensive and there’s room for lots more girls. We’d have loads of fun.”
“I’d love to,” Nancy replied, “but right now I can’t get away.”
“Maybe you can make it later,” Helen suggested. “If so, just zip on up. I’ll be there for two weeks before the regular summer camp opens.”
The two friends chatted a little longer, then said good-by. Nancy put the car away, then walked slowly toward her house, looking meditatively at the charity tickets in her hand.
“These are to be my passport to the Tophams’ stronghold!”
It was the following afternoon when Nancy approached the large pretentious house belonging to the Tophams.
Bracing herself for what she realized would be a trying interview, Nancy mounted the steps and rang the doorbell. “Here goes,” she thought. “I must be subtle in this maneuver to keep from arousing the Tophams’ suspicions!”
At that moment a maid opened the door, and with a condescending look, waited for Nancy to state her mission.
“Will you please tell Mrs. Topham that Nancy Drew is calling?” she requested. “I’m selling tickets ets for a charity dance. It’s one of the most important functions of the year in River Heights,” Nancy added impressively.
It seemed ages to the young sleuth before the maid returned and said that “Madame” would see her. Nancy was ushered into the living room, which was so bizarre in its decor she was startled.
“Such an expensive hodge-podge!” Nancy observed to herself, sitting down. She glanced at the pink carpet—which to her clashed with the red window draperies—and at an indiscriminate assortment of period furniture mixed with modern.
A haughty voice interrupted her thoughts. “Well, what do you want, Nancy?” Mrs. Topham had sailed grandly into the room and seated herself opposite Nancy.
“I’m selling—” Nancy began pleasantly.
“Oh, if you’re selling things I’m not interested,” the woman broke in rudely. “I can’t be handing out money to every solicitor who comes along.”
With difficulty Nancy suppressed an angry retort to the cutting remark. “Mrs. Topham,” she said evenly, “perhaps your maid didn’t make it clear. I am selling tickets to a charity ball which will be one of the loveliest affairs in River Heights this year.”
“Oh!” A slight change came over Mrs. Topham’s face. Nancy sensed that her words had struck a responsive chord. The woman was well known for her aspirations to be accepted by the best families in River Heights. “Well—”
To Nancy’s dismay Mrs. Topham’s response was cut off by the arrival of Ada and Isabel. The sisters entered the room, but did not at first notice Nancy’s presence. They were intently carrying on a disgruntled conversation.
“Really!” Ada was complaining. “I’m positive that woman snubbed us deliberately.”
Then she and Isabel caught sight of Nancy and stopped short. They stared coldly at the visi
tor.
“What are you doing here?” Isabel asked with a patronizing air.
Mrs. Topham answered her daughter’s question. “Nancy is selling tickets to a charity dance, dear. It’s to be a very important affair and I think it will be—er—beneficial—for us to be present.”
Isabel tossed her head disdainfully. “Don’t waste your money, Mother.”
“Isabel’s right,” Ada chimed in. “We don’t want to go to a ball just anybody can go to. We only attend the most exclusive affairs.”
“Absolutely,” Isabel declared in her haughtiest tone. “After all, Ada and I are very particular about the people we choose to meet.”
Mrs. Topham hesitated, evidently influenced by her daughters’ argument. Nancy’s heart sank, and she feared her cause was lost. She fully realized that Ada and Isabel would stay away from the dance just to spite her.
As she debated what her next move should be, Richard Topham walked into the living room. He was a thin man, with sparse graying hair. His manner was rather nervous. Mrs. Topham perfunctorily introduced Nancy to her husband.
“I gather you have some tickets to dispose of, Miss Drew,” he said without ceremony. “How many?”
“Why, four,” Nancy replied in some surprise.
“I’ll take them all.” Mr. Topham opened his wallet with a flourish and drew out a hundred-dollar bill. Here you are. Keep the change for your charity.”
His daughters gasped and his wife exclaimed, “Richard! Have you lost your senses? All that money!”
“Listen,” Mr. Topham retorted bluntly. “This donation will entitle us to have our names on the programs as patrons.”
With this remark he slumped into a chair and buried himself in the financial section of the newspaper. His family stared at one another, but they knew that the matter was closed. They never dared disturb him when he was absorbed in the stock-market reports.
Nancy arose reluctantly. She still had not accomplished the real purpose of her visit, but she had no excuse for prolonging her stay. How could she find out about the Crowley clock? Was it the one on the mantelpiece?
“I must be going,” she said. Then, looking at her wrist watch, she pretended that it had stopped and began to wind it. “What time is it, please?”
“There’s a clock right in front of you—on the mantel,” Ada said sharply.
Nancy looked at the timepiece. “So there is,” she remarked casually. “Is it an heirloom, perhaps the old Crowley clock I’ve heard so much about?”
Mrs. Topham looked down her nose. “I should say not! This is a far more expensive one!”
Isabel also rose to Nancy’s bait. “Cousin Josiah’s old clock was a monstrosity. We wouldn’t even have it cluttering up the attic!”
Nancy’s hopes waned, but she asked quickly, “Oh, then you sold it?”
“No,” Ada spoke up contemptuously. “Who’d give any money for that piece of junk? We sent it up to our bungalow at Moon Lake.”
Moon Lake! The words hit Nancy like a thunderbolt. Not only had the Topham girl given Nancy the very information she sought, but Helen Coming’s invitation to Camp Avondale provided a valid reason to visit the resort! Now if she could only figure out how to see the old clock!
As if Ada had read the visitor’s thoughts, she said airily, “We have some really fine pieces up at the cottage, Nancy. If you ever get up that way, drop in to see them. The caretaker will show you around.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much for everything,” Nancy said, trying hard to conceal her excitement. As the door closed behind her, Nancy grinned in anticipation.
“What luck!” she told herself. “Moon Lake, here I come!”
CHAPTER X
Following a Clue
WITH soaring spirits, Nancy walked homeward. “I wonder,” she thought, “how the Tophams will feel about Josiah Crowley’s old clock if it costs them the inheritance they’re counting on.”
At dinner that night Nancy chatted with unusual animation, deciding not to tell of her exciting plans until after Hannah had served dessert.
Mr. Drew, however, sensed that big news was coming. “My dear,” he said, laying a hand on his daughter’s arm, “you look like the cat that swallowed the canary. What’s the big scoop?”
Nancy giggled. “Oh, Dad. I can’t keep any secrets from you.” Then, as the table was cleared, the young sleuth told of her great stroke of luck. “And just think, Helen invited me to her aunt’s camp!”
“Good,” her father commented, smiling. “You can combine business with pleasure, Nancy. Swimming and boating and fun with the girls will provide a much-needed vacation.”
“May I start first thing in the morning?” his daughter asked.
“An excellent idea, Nancy. The change will do wonders for you. Go, by all means.”
Hurriedly she packed a suitcase and the next morning was off to an early start.
Moon Lake was about a fifty-mile drive. One way to go was past the Hoover girls’ farm and Nancy decided to stop there. As she approached the house, the young sleuth heard singing. It was coming from the barn.
“How beautiful!” Nancy thought, as the clear soprano voice went through a series of trills and flutelike scales.
In a moment the singer appeared and Nancy teasingly applauded. Allison’s eyes danced. “Thanks. I was just trying to imitate some of the greats.”
“You’ll be great yourself one of these days,” Nancy prophesied.
“Not unless I get some money to finance lessons,” Allison said. “Any news, Nancy?”
“Sort of. I’ve had a little luck.” At this moment Grace appeared and instantly invited Nancy to stay, but the young detective said she too had work to do. “I hope to have a good report for you soon,” she added, and waved good-by.
Grace’s face brightened and Allison declared cheerfully, “Then there’s still hope? We are so lucky to have you as a friend, Nancy. Come see us again soon. Please.”
Resuming her journey, Nancy soon branched off from the River Road and headed toward Moon Lake. As she drove along, her thoughts revolved constantly around the Crowley relatives and the Hoovers.
She sighed. “How different things would be for them now if Josiah Crowley hadn’t been so secretive!”
Her reverie was ended by the sudden strange actions of her car. It kept veering to the left of the road in spite of her efforts to keep it in the middle. With foreboding, Nancy stopped and got out to make an inspection. As she had suspected, a rear tire was flat.
“Oh dear!” she murmured in disgust. “Such luck!”
Though Nancy was able to change a tire, she never relished the task. Quickly she took out the spare tire from the rear compartment, found the jack and lug wrench, and went to work. By the time her job was completed, she was hot and a little breathless.
“Whew!” she exclaimed, as she started on her way again. “I’ll be ready for a nice, cool swim in Moon Lake!”
It was after twelve o’clock when she came in sight of Camp Avondale, run by Helen’s aunt. Through the tall trees Nancy caught a glimpse of cabins and tents. Beyond, the blue lake sparkled and glimmered in the sunlight.
As Nancy drove into the camp, a group of girls gathered about her car. Helen came running out of a cabin to greet her chum.
“Girls, it’s Nancy Drew!” she exclaimed joyfully and made introductions. Nancy did not know any of the campers, but in no time they made her feel warmly welcome.
“Nancy,” said Helen, “park your car back of the dining hall, then come have lunch.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Nancy laughed. “I’m nearly starved!”
First, she was escorted to the main building where she met Aunt Martha, the camp director, and registered.
“May she stay with me?” Helen asked.
“Certainly, dear. And I hope you have a splendid time, Nancy.”
“I’m sure I shall, Aunt Martha.”
As the two girls walked off Nancy told Helen about selling the charity-dance tickets
and gave her the money paid by Mr. Topham.
“He surely was generous!” Helen commented in surprise. Then she smiled wryly. “I have a feeling he did it more for social prestige than sympathy for the cause.”
Nancy scarcely had time to deposit her suitcase under her cot and freshen up after the long ride when lunch was announced by the ringing of a bell. Campers hurried from all directions to the dining hall. The food was plain but appetizing and Nancy ate with zest.
The meal over, she was rushed from one activity to another. The girls insisted that she join them in a hike. Then came a cooling dip in the lake. Nancy enjoyed herself immensely, but the Crowley mystery was never far from her mind.
“I must find out where the Tophams’ cottage is located,” she reminded herself. “And next, manage to go there alone.”
Nancy’s opportunity to accomplish the first part of her quest came when Helen suggested about five o’clock, “How about going for a ride around the lake in the camp launch? There’s just time before supper.”
“Wonderful!” Nancy accepted readily. “By the way, can you see many of the summer cottages from the water?”
“Oh, yes. Lots of them.”
Helen led her friend down to a small dock and with four other girls climbed into the launch, a medium-sized craft.
As one of the campers started the motor, Helen remarked, “It’s always a relief to us when this engine starts. Once in a while it balks, but you never know when or where.”
“Yes,” spoke up a girl named Barby. “And when you’re stuck this time of year, you’re stuck. There are hardly any cottagers up here yet, so their boats are still in winter storage.”
As the little launch turned out into the lake, Nancy was entranced with the beautiful sight before her. The delicate azure blue of the sky and the mellow gold of the late afternoon sun were reflected in the shimmering surface of the water.
“What a lovely scene for an oil painting!” she thought.
As they sped along, however, Nancy kept glancing at the cottages, intermingled with tall evergreen trees that bordered the shore line.
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