(#25) The Ghost of Blackwood Hall (10 page)

“Mrs. Egan probably is aboard!” she groaned.

Nancy checked and confirmed that a woman answering the description had bought a ticket for Chicago, in the name of Mrs. Floyd Pepper.

“My one chance now of having her questioned or trailed is to wire the Chicago police!” Nancy decided. “I’ll ask Dad to make the request.”

She telephoned to explain matters, and Mr. Drew agreed to send a telegram at once.

Nancy, having done all she could in the matter, returned to the Claymore Hotel with a new plan in mind. She asked for some stationery with the Claymore letterhead. When she arrived home her father was there.

“Dad, I want to find out if Mrs. Egan has any part in the séances, the stock deals, or the money that used to be put in the walnut tree,” said Nancy. “Will you tell me honestly what you think of this plan? I’m going to type notes to Mrs. Putney, Lola White, and Sadie Green.”

“Using Mrs. Egan’s name?”

“That’s the idea. If it doesn’t work, then I’ll try the name of Immer later. I won’t try imitating Mrs. Egan’s signature in the hotel register. I’ll just type the name.”

“But what can you say without giving yourself away?” asked Mr. Drew.

“I’ll write that my plans have been changed suddenly,” Nancy said. “I’ll request them to send all communications to Mrs. Hilda Egan at the Claymore Hotel.”

“When she isn’t there? And why Hilda? Isn’t the name Mrs. Frank Egan?”

“That’s how I’ll know the answers belong to
me.
I doubt if her clients know her first name, anyway.”

Mr. Drew chuckled. “Anyone could tell that you have legal blood in your veins,” he said. “But aren’t you forgetting one little detail?”

“What’s that?” Nancy asked in surprise.

“If Mrs. Putney, Sadie, Lola, or any of the others have ever had any correspondence with Mrs. Egan, they’ll be suspicious of the letters. They may question a typed name instead of one written in her own hand.”

“How would it be,” said Nancy, “if in the corner of the envelope, I draw the insigne of the Three Branch Ranch!”

“Well, here’s hoping,” said Mr. Drew a trifle dubiously.

Later that day Nancy wrote the letters, then rushed over to the Claymore and persuaded the hotel clerk, who knew her to be an amateur detective, to agree to turn over to her any replies which might come addressed to Mrs. Hilda Egan.

“Since you say these letters will be in answer to letters you yourself have written, I’ll do it,” he agreed.

All the next day Nancy waited impatiently for word from the Chicago police in reply to her father’s telegram. None came, nor did she receive a call from the clerk at the Claymore Hotel.

“Maybe my idea wasn’t so good after all,” she thought.

But on the second day, the telephone rang. Nancy’s pulse hammered as she recognized the voice of the Claymore Hotel clerk.

“Nancy Drew?”

“Yes. Have you any mail for me?”

“A letter you may want to pick up is here,” he said hurriedly.

CHAPTER XIII

Complications

THE letter awaiting Nancy at the Claymore Hotel proved to be from Sadie Green, the girl who worked at the Lovelee Cosmetic Company.

In the communication, which the girl never dreamed would be read by anyone except Mrs. Egan, she revealed she had received a bonus and would gladly donate it to the poor orphans cared for at the Three Branch Home.

“... In accordance with messages from their deceased parents,” the letter ended.

“So that’s what they are up to!” Nancy thought grimly. “There’s no greater appeal than that of poor, starving orphans! The very idea of trying to rob hard-working girls with such hocus-pocus!”

As soon as Nancy returned home, she promptly typed a reply on the hotel stationery warning Sadie that since certain unscrupulous persons were endeavoring to turn a legitimate charity into a racket, she was to pay no attention to any written or telephoned messages, unless they came from Mrs. Egan herself at the Claymore Hotel.

Nancy’s next move was made only after she had again consulted her father. At first he was a little reluctant to consent to the daring plan she proposed, but when she outlined its possibilities, he agreed to help her.

“Write down the address of this shop in Winchester,” he said, scribbling it on a paper. “Unless I’m mistaken, you can buy everything you need there.”

As a result of Nancy’s talk with her father and also with Ned Nickerson, another letter went forward to Sadie Green. The note merely said that the girl would be required to attend an important séance the following night. She was instructed to wait for a car at Cross and Lexington streets.

At the appointed hour, Nancy, heavily veiled, rode beside her father in the front seat of a car borrowed from a friend. In order not to be recognized, Mr. Drew had a felt hat pulled low over his eyes.

“Dad, you look like a second-story man!” Nancy teased him as they parked at the intersection. “Do you think Sadie will show up?”

“I see a blond girl coming now,” he replied.

Nancy turned her head slightly and recognized Sadie. Making a slow gesture with her gloved hand, she motioned the girl into the back seat. Mr. Drew promptly pulled away from the curb.

The automobile took a direct route to the vicinity of Blackwood Hall. Nancy covertly watched Sadie from beneath her veil. The girl was very nervous and kept twisting her handkerchief as they approached. But when they got out and started walking, she gave no sign that the area was familiar.

Ned Nickerson had followed in another borrowed automobile which he concealed in a clump of bushes. Then he removed a small suitcase from the trunk, and started off through the woods.

Meanwhile, Nancy and Sadie, with Mr. Drew a little distance behind, approached Blackwood Hall.

“I hope everything goes through as planned,” Nancy thought with a twinge of uneasiness. “If Ned is late getting here—”

Just then she saw a faint, greenish light glowing weirdly through the trees directly ahead. At the same moment came a strange, husky chant.

Nancy stepped to one side so that Sadie might precede her on the path. The girl gazed at the green point of light as one hypnotized.

“The spirit speaks!” Nancy intoned.

Simultaneously a luminous hand seemed to appear out of nowhere. It floated, unattached, and reached out as if to touch Sadie.

“My child,” intoned an old man’s cracked voice, “I am your beloved grandfather on your dear mother’s side.”

“Not Elias Perkins!” Sadie murmured in awe.

“The spirit of none other, my child. Sadie, I have been watching you and I am worried—most sorely worried. You must give no more money to the Three Branch Ranch or to any cause which my spirit cannot recommend.”

“But, Grandfather—”

“Furthermore,” continued the cracked voice, taking no note of the interruption, “follow no orders or directions from anyone, unless that person writes or speaks his name backward. Mind this well, Sadie, my child, for it is important.”

The voice gradually drifted away as the green light began to grow dim. Soon there was only darkness and deep silence in the woods.

“Oh, Grandfather! Come back! Speak to me again!” Sadie pleaded.

“The seance is concluded,” Nancy murmured.

She took Sadie by the arm and led her back to the waiting car. All the way home Sadie remained silent. Only once did she speak and that was to ask “the veiled lady” the meaning of the strange instructions issued by her grandfather.

Nancy spoke slowly and in a low monotone, “You are to reveal no information to anyone and take no orders from anyone unless he spells or speaks his or her name backward.”

“I don’t understand,” Sadie said.

“There are unscrupulous people who seek to take advantage of you. Your grandfather’s spirit is trying to protect you. He has given you a means of identifying the good and the evil. You have been in communication with a Mrs. Egan, have you not?”

The blond girl nodded. And Nancy continued, “Should Mrs. Egan approach you again, saying ‘I am Mrs. Egan,’ then beware! But should she say ‘I am Mrs. Nage,’ then you will know that she is to be trusted, even as you trust the spirit of Elias Perkins.”

“Oh! I see now what Grandfather meant,” Sadie said, and became silent again.

At Cross and Lexington streets, the girl left the car. Nancy and her father drove on home, to find Ned awaiting them.

“How did I do?” the youth demanded in the cracked voice of Elias Perkins as they entered the house together.

Nancy chuckled. “A perfect performance!”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Ned joked. “I almost messed up the whole show.”

As the three enjoyed milk and sandwiches in the Drew kitchen, the young man revealed that he had nearly lost the hand from the end of the rod.

“Next time you want me to perform, buy a better grade of equipment!” He laughed, biting into another ham sandwich.

Ned was referring to the props used during the séance, which Nancy had purchased earlier that day at a store in Winchester. These included a telescopic reaching rod, and the luminous wax hand, as well as a bottle of phosphorus and olive oil, guaranteed to produce a ghostly effect when the cork was removed, which would disappear again at the required moment when it was stoppered.

“When I took the bottle from the suitcase, I nearly dropped it,” Ned confessed. “And what’s a séance in the dark worth without a spooky light?” he added, laughing.

On the following day, Nancy called at Sadie’s home. Sadie was at work, but elderly Mr. Green, eager for companionship, told Nancy everything she wished to know.

“That granddaughter o’ mine ain’t so foolish as I was afeared,” he said promptly. “This morning she says to me ‘Grandpa, I’ve made up my mind to save my money and not give it away to every Tom, Dick, and Harry who asks me for it.’ What do you think o’ that?”

“Splendid!” Nancy approved. “I hoped Sadie would have a change of heart.”

To test Sadie further, Nancy asked Ned the next day to telephone the girl at the Lovelee Cosmetic Company.

“I want to prove a couple of things,” she said. “First of all, I want to find out whether Sadie is really following my instructions, and second, if she knows the name of Howard Brex.”

Ned began to laugh. “How would you pronounce Brex backward?”

Nancy smiled too. “Guess you’ll have to use his first name. ‘Drawoh’ is easy.”

While Nancy listened on an extension at the Drew home, Ned made the call. He addressed the girl as Eidas instead of Sadie and added, “This is Drawoh speaking.”

“My name ain’t Eidas, and I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the girl retorted, failing to understand.

Ned quickly asked her to think hard. Suddenly Sadie said:

“Oh, yes, I remember. And what did you say your name is?”

“Drawoh.”

After a moment’s reflection, the girl said, “I guess I don’t know you.”

“No,” said Ned. “But tell me, have you had any recent communications asking you for money?”

“One came today, but I threw it away,” Sadie replied. “I’m not giving any more of my money to those folks. I have to go now.”

Sadie hung up.

“Good work, Nancy!” Ned declared as he rejoined her. “Apparently that trick séance brought Sadie to her senses.”

“For a few days, anyhow,” Nancy agreed. “The job isn’t over, though, until these swindlers are behind bars! They still have great influence over Lola and Mrs. Putney and goodness knows how many other people.

“I can easily understand how a person like Sadie would be so gullible, but it’s almost unthinkable that Mrs. Putney would fall for that stuff,” Ned said.

While the two friends were talking, Hannah Gruen called Nancy to the telephone. The message was from the clerk at the Claymore Hotel. The late-morning mail had brought two more letters addressed to Mrs. Egan.

“Isn’t that wonderful, Ned?” Nancy cried. “I’ll have to go over to the hotel right away.”

“I’ll take you there,” Ned offered.

He drove Nancy to the hotel and waited in the car while she went inside. The girl was gone several minutes. When she returned, her face was downcast, and she looked very disturbed.

“What’s the matter?” Ned demanded. “Didn’t you get the letters?”

Nancy shook her head. “The regular clerk went to lunch,” she explained. “In his absence, another clerk gave the letters to someone else!”

CHAPTER XIV

The Cabin in the Woods

“A YOUNG woman picked up the letters,” Nancy told Ned. “Mrs. Egan must have discovered our scheme and sent a messenger. She was lucky enough, or else she planned it that way, to have the letters called for when my friend was off duty.”

“Maybe Mrs. Egan’s back in town,” Ned suggested.

“Yes, that’s possible. The police were never able to trace her. According to word Dad received, she left the plane at one of the stops between here and Chicago.”

Ned whistled softly. “Wow! If she’s back here, she’ll be in your hair, Nancy!”

“She hasn’t registered at the Claymore. I found that out. But that doesn’t prove she isn’t in River Heights. Ned, something’s got to break in this case soon. We know that there are several people in the racket and it may be that Brex is the mastermind behind everything. Blackwood Hall evidently had been used as headquarters until we got too interested for their comfort. All of the supernatural hocus-pocus was used not only to fleece gullible victims, but also to scare us off the scent. I feel that there will be a showdown within the next few days.”

“Well, I want to be there when that happens, Nancy,” said Ned.

Later that day, Nancy called George and Bess and asked them to go with her to Blackwood Hall. The drive to the river road was uneventful. They parked their car some distance away and all three trekked through the walnut woods in the direc tion of the historic mansion.

“But, Nancy, what do you expect to find this time?” asked Bess.

“I realized when I was reviewing the case with Ned today that we never had checked those wheelbarrow tracks from Blackwood Hall. They may lead us to the spot where the gang is now making its headquarters.”