(#25) The Ghost of Blackwood Hall (2 page)

After a pause Mrs. Putney, speaking in a whisper, said, “One night, several weeks ago, my dear husband’s spirit came to me. I awoke, or thought I did, and heard a far-off voice. I’m sure it was Henry’s. He instructed me to bury the jewels in a place which he described in minute detail and warned me never to reveal to any man or woman that he had told me to do it. Otherwise he would never permit me to hear from him again.”

“But he didn’t say anything about not telling a girl?” Nancy asked.

“No. That is why I risked coming to you. I need your help desperately. Oh, I hope my coming won’t spoil everything!”

Nancy, who did not believe in ghosts or spirits, nevertheless respected Mrs. Putney’s belief and was diplomatic in her reply.

“I’m sure that coming to me will not spoil anything,” she said. “You must have been robbed by someone who saw you hiding your jewelry, and who knew its value.”

“But I told no one my plan.”

“I’d like to see the place where you buried the leather case. Why don’t we drive out there now in my car?”

“If you like,” the widow agreed halfheartedly.

Nancy explained to Mrs. Gruen that she would be gone for an hour or so. Nancy’s mother was not living. For many years, the Drew household had been efficiently run by Hannah Gruen, who had been with the family so long that she was regarded as one of them. She loved Nancy as a daughter, and worried a great deal about her whenever the young detective undertook to solve a mystery.

Taking Togo along, Nancy and Mrs. Putney drove through the countryside to the edge of a dense woods which bordered the highway. At Mrs. Putney’s direction, Nancy turned down a narrow side road, crossed an old-fashioned covered bridge, and finally parked beneath an arch of thickly interlaced tree limbs.

As the two alighted, a gentle breeze rippled Nancy’s hair and stirred the leaves overhead. The rustling in the branches seemed to make Togo uneasy. He pricked up his ears and began to growl.

“Quiet, Togo!” Nancy ordered. “You’d better stay in the car,” she added, raising the windows part way. “You might race off into the woods.”

“Follow me,” Mrs. Putney directed, setting off through a path that curved among the tall trees.

The widow reached a small clearing a few hundred yards from the roadside and halted. Without speaking, she pointed to the center of a grassy place where a section of earth had been dug up.

Nancy glanced around carefully. On all sides, the clearing was shielded by a dense growth of bushes. Quickly she set about inspecting the spot where the leather case had been buried.

The ground was soft, for it had rained hard during the night. If there had been footprints other than those of Mrs. Putney, they had been washed away.

As Nancy straightened up, she heard a car pass along the road. It slowed as if the driver intended to stop, then speeded on.

Nancy continued systematically to search the area for evidence. She was about to abandon the task when her gaze fell upon a scrap of paper which had snagged at the base of a thorny bush. Picking it up, Nancy noticed that it was a page torn from a catalog. On one side was the advertisement :

“BEAUTIFUL LIGHTS, $10.00.” On the other, “No ASSISTANTS.”

Doubtful as to the value of the find, Nancy nevertheless slipped the paper into her purse. As she did so, her eyes came to rest upon a long, shiny piece of metal a few feet away.

Before she could pick it up, an agonized scream cut through the silent woods!

CHAPTER II

The First Clue

NANCY whirled around and was relieved to see that Mrs. Putney was safe. The bloodcurdling scream must have come from the road.

“What was that?” The widow was trembling.

“Someone’s in trouble!” Nancy exclaimed. “It was a woman’s voice!”

Nancy began running in the direction of the road. Mrs. Putney followed as fast as she could.

Out of breath, Nancy reached the place where she had left her convertible. Togo was jumping from seat to seat, barking excitedly.

“Maybe you know something, old boy,” Nancy said, and let him out on a leash.

She allowed him to lead her a short distance down the road. He began sniffing the ground, where Nancy noticed some fresh tire prints. Before they reached the first bend in the highway, she heard the muffled roar of a car engine.

“A car must have been parked just out of sight!” she murmured. “Now it’s pulling away!”

Though she and Togo ran, the automobile had disappeared by the time they rounded the bend. The dog at this point seemed to lose interest.

“The woman who screamed must have been in the car,” Nancy decided. “But who was she? And why did she scream?”

It was too late to attempt pursuit. Thoughtfully Nancy walked back to her own car, where Mrs. Putney anxiously awaited her.

“Did you learn anything, Nancy?”

“Nothing of importance. No one seems to be around here now.”

“It was such a horrible scream.” Mrs. Putney shivered. “Please, let’s leave. I feel so uneasy here—as if unfriendly spirits were watching!”

Nancy suddenly remembered the object in the grass which had drawn her attention just before she had heard the scream. “I’d like to return to the clearing for a minute or two,” she said. “Mrs. Putney, why don’t you wait here in the car?”

“I believe I will,” the widow agreed, quickly getting into the automobile. “But please hurry!”

“I will,” Nancy promised.

She started off through the woods with Togo. Though she did not for an instant share Mrs. Putney’s belief that “spirits were watching,” the woods depressed her.

“I’ve allowed Mrs. Putney’s ghost talk to get on my nerves!” Nancy chided herself.

As she approached the spot where Mrs. Putney had buried the jewelry, Togo began to act strangely. Twice he paused to sniff the air and whine. Once he looked up into Nancy’s face as if trying to tell her something, and growled.

“Togo, what is it?” Nancy asked. “One would think—”

She gazed alertly about the clearing. It was deserted, yet every rustle of the leaves seemed to warn her to be careful.

Rather annoyed at her misgivings, Nancy went to the spot where she had been about to pick up the metallic object. Though she looked everywhere, the young detective was unable to find it.

Now more than ever alert, she carefully looked at the ground. In several places the grass had been trampled by herself, Mrs. Putney, or by someone else.

Togo began to sniff and tug at his leash. The dog led her to a depression in the ground which was hidden by bushes. Plainly visible in the soft earth were the prints of a man’s shoes.

Stooping down, she examined the footprints thoroughly, measuring them with her hand. Obviously they were fresh. The narrowness of the shoe, and its length, led Nancy to believe that the man who had walked there was tall and thin.

“So that’s why I can’t find the piece of metal!” she decided. “He came and picked it up while I was investigating the woman’s scream! And probably,” Nancy thought ruefully, “she was with him, and her scream was to frighten me away.”

Though the trail was indistinct, Nancy could follow the footprints to the shelf of land which overlooked the clearing. The stranger had concealed himself there, watching!

“If he didn’t go off in the car, he may not be far from here now,” Nancy decided uneasily. “He may be the jewel thief!”

Nancy’s attractive face tightened as she realized that danger might be lurking in the forest. She was convinced that the theft of Mrs. Putney’s buried treasure was no ordinary affair.

“Only a very clever thief would have taken the trouble to substitute fake pieces of jewelry,” she thought. “No doubt it was done to keep Mrs. Putney from discovering her loss and reporting the theft to the police.”

Wasting no further time in reflection, Nancy followed the footprints. When the marks were no longer visible, Togo sniffed the ground intelligently, and led her to the road, where he stopped.

“So the man did go off in the car,” she sighed.

With Togo trotting along beside her, Nancy returned to her convertible.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” Mrs. Putney said, greatly relieved. “I was beginning to worry.”

En route to River Heights, Nancy said nothing of her findings, except that she thought the footprints might have been made by the thief. Her companion now seemed only mildly interested, and responded absent-mindedly to questions.

When they came to the city, Mrs. Putney requested that she be dropped off at Mr. Freeman’s jewelry store. Reminding her that the case of fake jewelry had been left at the Drew home, Nancy asked what should be done with it.

“I’ll get it later,” Mrs. Putney decided.

Nancy was pleased to have the case left in her possession, and promptly asked permission to show the jewelry to her father.

“By all means do so,” Mrs. Putney said. “Only please be careful not to reveal what I told you about my husband or his instructions.”

Nancy promised. After leaving the widow, she drove directly home. When her father arrived from his office, she had the collection spread out on the living-room table in front of her.

“Well, well! What’s going on here?” the lawyer exclaimed, pausing to stare. “Have you been robbing jewelry stores lately, Nancy?”

Carson Drew was a tall, distinguished-looking man of middle age, with keen, twinkling blue eyes like those of his daughter. He and his only child were companionable and shared a delightful sense of humor. Nancy sprang up to hug him.

“Dad, I had the most exciting afternoon!”

“Ha! Another mystery!” the lawyer said with a mock groan.

“I think it’s going to be a very interesting one. Just look at this fake jewelry!”

Mr. Drew examined the pieces one by one, while Nancy related some of the story.

“One or two facts I can’t tell,” she said reluctantly. “Mrs. Putney swore me to secrecy.”

“I don’t like that, Nancy.”

“Neither do I, Dad, but in a day or so, she’ll change her mind. Meanwhile, I can’t pass up a good mystery!”

“I suppose not,” her father replied. “The point is, if you’re determined to try to help Mrs. Putney, you must be very cautious.”

Mr. Drew picked up a jewel-studded pin, studied it a moment, and added, “Whoever made this is a clever craftsman. He must have plotted every move far in advance, for it takes time to make imitations like this.”

“Dad, do you suppose a River Heights jeweler made these pieces?”

“Possible. However, I’m sure our jewelers are honest merchants, and if they made the imita tions, they did so in good faith.”

Nancy replaced the jewelry in the leather case.

“Tomorrow I’ll show these pieces to a few of the River Heights stores, and perhaps someone can identify the work.”

Soon after breakfast the next morning, Nancy set forth on a tour of jewelry stores. Bigelow Company was the last establishment at which she called, and there luck was with her. Mr. Bigelow, one of the owners, stated positively that the imitations had not been made by his firm, but he gave Nancy a suggestion.

“Look for a man named Howard Brex,” the jeweler said. “He was a salesman and former designer for a New Orleans house. Used to sell jewelry to me. Not a bad-looking fellow—tall, dark, slender, and a smooth talker. He was a slippery character, though. Finally went to prison for fraud. Maybe he’s been released.”

Nancy became excited upon hearing this description of Brex. The footprints in the woods had been those of a tall, slender man!

After thanking Mr. Bigelow for the information, Nancy hurried to her father’s office. Perching herself on his desk, she asked him if he had any information about Howard Brex in his files. Ringing for his secretary, the lawyer sent for a certain loose-leaf file and fingered through the B’s.

“Brex was released a few months ago from a Louisiana penitentiary with time off for good behavior,” Mr. Drew revealed. “You think he may be your thief?”

“Oh, I do,” she replied, thrilled at the possibility that she had uncovered a real clue.

The arrival of a client cut short further conversation. Nancy telephoned Mr. Bigelow from the outer office and got the name of Brex’s former employer in New Orleans. Then she started for home, a plan of action in mind.

Upon arriving at the Drew house, she was pleasantly surprised to find two friends, Bess Marvin and another girl, George Fayne, on the front porch.

George, her dark hair cut in an attractive short style, was deeply tanned. By contrast, her plump cousin Bess was blonde and fair-complexioned.

“I may have some news for you,” Nancy hinted as they entered the house. She left Bess and George in the living room and went to telephone Mrs. Putney. After assuring the widow that her two assistants were girls, Nancy obtained reluctant permission to explain the circumstances of the case to Bess and George.

Rejoining the girls, Nancy said, “How would you two like to go to New Orleans with me?”

CHAPTER III

Tracking a Thief

“NEW ORLEANS!” Bess and George exclaimed.

Nancy smiled at her friends. “I’m working on a new case,” she said. “Right now, I’m looking for a tall, dark man.”

Bess giggled. “What would Ned say to that?”

Nancy blushed as she replied that the man she was after was probably a thief. Furthermore, the place to start looking for him was New Orleans. She told them the story, saying Brex’s former employer should be able to recognize the craftsmanship in any imitation jewelry Brex might have made.

“Dad promised me a trip,” Nancy said. “I know he can’t go with me now. Tonight I’ll ask him if you girls can take his place; that is, if you’d like to go.”

“Would we!” exclaimed George.

“While we’re investigating this Brex person, George and I can do some sightseeing,” remarked Bess. “New Orleans is such a romantic city!”

A twinkle came into Nancy’s eyes. “I’m taking you girls along for protection,” she said.

“Oh, we won’t desert you.” George grinned. “But all work and no play isn’t any fun.”

That evening Nancy discussed the plan with her father. He readily gave his consent.