(#26) The Clue of the Leaning Chimney (6 page)

Nancy turned. Helen’s mother was holding out the familiar blue bag.

“Yes, that’s mine,” Nancy said. “Thank you. Where did you find it?”

“It was lying here in the grass,” Mrs. Townsend explained.

“Oh, I hope nothing’s gone,” said Helen.

Nancy opened the bag, feeling sure all the contents would be missing. At first glance it seemed as if only the money in it was gone. Then she realized that the paper on which she had copied the Chinese symbols from the vase was also missing.

Suddenly Nancy was struck by a dismaying thought. Without a word, she darted into the house. Her worst fears were confirmed.

The Townsends’ beautiful, rare vase had vanished!

CHAPTER VII

Three on a Clue

NANCY stared in dismay at the vacant spot on the desk. Then she ran into the kitchen, snapped on the back-yard light, and dashed outside. Nobody was there.

By then Mr. and Mrs. Townsend and the girls had caught up to her. “What’s the matter now, Nancy?” asked Mr. Townsend.

As she told them about the stolen vase, Nancy experienced a sudden twinge of guilt. If the thief had not observed her copying the symbols on the bottom, he might never have stolen the vase. But why was her copy of the symbols so important to him?

Suddenly Nancy thought she knew. She ran to the side of the house, fully expecting to see the same identifying footprints she had spotted at Hunter’s Bridge; prints she believed were Manning’s. But she was disappointed. These marks were short and wide.

When she told Bess and George the idea she had had about the footprints, George was inclined to think the thief was some pal of Manning’s.

“He’s probably one of those men in the woods,” she added.

“And has been told to trail you, Nancy,” Bess said fearfully.

“Hypers!” said George. “This puts such a damper on everything.”

The other girls murmured in agreement. The Townsends insisted upon hearing about the case. Nancy told what she deemed necessary, then Mr. Townsend went to telephone the police. Two officers arrived, made a routine check indoors and out, then queried Nancy.

After they had gone, a thought suddenly flashed through Nancy’s mind. She went to the desk and picked up the small blotter she had used to dry the ink on her notation of the Chinese characters. They were clearly reproduced in reverse.

“I’ll take this home and compare the symbols with those on the paper there,” she decided.

Nancy slipped the blotter into her bag and turned back to speak to Mr. Townsend. “Where did you buy the vase?”

“Why, let me see,” he replied, reaching into his inside coat pocket. “I think I have the name of the shop right here in my wallet. Yes, here it is. Sen-yung’s Oriental Gift Shop, Madison Avenue, New York.”

Nancy made a mental note of the name.

Mr. Drew arrived shortly to take the girls home. Upon hearing of the theft, and the possibility that Nancy had been spied upon, he was glad he had escorted the girls to the party and back. Nancy, Bess, and George thanked their hostess for the lovely party, then left.

When the Drews reached home, they sat down for a few minutes to discuss the strange turn of events. Nancy took the blotter from her bag and handed it to her father. Then she went to her room to get a hand mirror and the sheet of paper containing the Chinese symbols found in Manning’s room. Holding the blotter up to the mirror, she saw at a glance that the writing was the same as one set of characters on the sheet. It read:

“Made for the hall of fragrant virtue.”

Nancy was thrilled at the new clue. But she was still puzzled over the thief’s motive for stealing her copy of the symbols.

In the morning Nancy telephoned the Townsends to say again how lovely the birthday party had been, and to ask if there was any news of the thief.

“Not a speck,” Helen replied. “Say, Nancy, maybe you could find the thief for us.”

“If I get any clues, I’ll let you know,” Nancy promised, and hung up.

Since she could think of no way at the moment to trace the thief, Nancy decided to concentrate on finding the China clay pit. She went to the River Heights Public Library to scan books on local geology. But after poring over several volumes and maps, Nancy had found nothing.

She closed the books with a sigh and put them back on the shelf. Miss Carter, the librarian, had noticed Nancy’s disappointed expression.

“Couldn’t you find what you’re looking for?” she inquired pleasantly.

Nancy shook her head and told the librarian the nature of her quest.

“Why don’t you ask Miles Monroe?” Miss Carter suggested. “He’s a retired professor of geology. If anyone knows of a clay deposit, he should. I’ll give you his address.”

“Thank you,” Nancy said, smiling. “I’ll go to see him at once.”

The geologist lived in a small apartment. She pushed the buzzer under Miles Monroe’s name card and in a moment a small peephole flew open. An eye stared at Nancy.

“If you’re selling something,” boomed a voice, “I don’t want any of it!”

Nancy stifled a laugh. “I’m not a saleswoman. I came to see you about a geology problem!”

The eye stared a moment longer. Then the peephole snapped shut and the door flew open. A man stood in the doorway, looking Nancy up and down. He was tall and slightly stoop-shouldered, with a sharp, inquisitive face and a thatch of bristling red hair.

“Geology problem!” he snorted. “You’re too pretty for such heavy thoughts. But come in!”

As Nancy followed the professor into the living room she noticed that he walked with a limp.

“Have a chair!” he said. Mr. Monroe seated himself, looking straight at Nancy. “Well, young lady,” he asked, “what’s on your mind?”

After Nancy introduced herself, she told of her search for a deposit of China clay. Monroe said he knew of none in the state.

“I’ve heard,” Nancy went on, “that it may be identified in some way with a leaning chimney.”

Miles Monroe scoffed. “First time I ever heard of using a chimney to find a vein of kaolin!”

“Kaolin?” repeated Nancy.

The professor replied, “That’s what geologists call the fine white clay used in the manufacture of china and porcelain. The name comes from the Chinese
Kaoling.
It’s a mountain in China which yielded the first kaolin.”

Nancy eagerly absorbed this new knowledge as Miles Monroe added:

“Kaolin is formed by the weathering of granite and other rocks. Then the clay is washed free of the quartz and mixed with feldspar, flint, and so forth to make porcelain.” He smiled wryly. “You may as well know what it’s all about if you’re looking for the stuff.”

“Of course,” Nancy agreed. “But I had hoped you’d be able to tell me about a pit of China clay in this region. It’s supposed to be near Masonville.”

Professor Monroe rubbed his nose. “Don’t know much about the land around Masonville,” he replied. “Had to give up my field trips when I injured my leg in a fall six years ago. That’s when I retired. Before that, I lived in Philadelphia.”

“Well, I’m sorry to have bothered you,” Nancy said, rising.

“Say, wait a minute!” Miles Monroe burst out suddenly. “There’s one section I had an interest in and was always going to get to. It’s a stretch of woods several miles out of River Heights toward Masonville.”

He gave her directions for reaching it.

“There’s an abandoned Civil War iron mine and smelter out there, I was told. It may have a leaning chimney. If you find a China clay pit, I would like to know about it.”

Nancy thanked him for the information. She was glad to have the lead, slim as it was.

Professor Monroe walked to the door with her, and she went down to her car. Then she drove to George’s home.

Her friend was mowing the front lawn. Seated on the ground was Bess, clipping a hedge.

Nancy tooted her horn. The two girls looked up and ran to the car.

“I’m going for a short drive in the country. Just got a new lead on the leaning chimney,” Nancy told them. “Want to come along?”

Bess eyed her friend suspiciously. “What do we have to do?” she asked.

“What difference does it make as long as it’s fun!” scoffed George. She slid into the seat beside Nancy.

“Okay. I’ll go tell your mother where we’re going, George.”

Bess returned in a moment and hopped into the convertible. Nancy headed for Three Bridges Road.

“Oh, my goodness!” Bess exclaimed as they neared Hunter’s Bridge. “This awful place again!”

“But this time we’re not stopping,” Nancy reassured her, and Bess sighed in relief.

Shortly after crossing Hunter’s Bridge they came to a narrow gravel road which veered to the right. Nancy turned the car onto it.

After traveling about eight miles from River Heights, she pulled up under a tree and stopped. The three girls got out and started through the woods to search for the abandoned mine.

They walked for nearly an hour among trees and through stony pastures, climbing old, rotted fences and slapping at insects. Bess’s enthusiasm began to wane.

“I’m tired,” she moaned. “Let’s go back. I’ll bet Professor Monroe doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Even George and Nancy wondered whether the old mine really existed.

“Just a little farther,” Nancy urged.

“We’ll be in the next state,” joked George. “But I’m willing.”

The three trudged on, when suddenly a barrier loomed up ahead. It was a high, board fence, topped by strands of rusty barbed wire. The three girls stopped and stared in amazement.

“Why would anyone put up such a thing in this wilderness?” Bess asked.

The girls inspected the fence closely. It was about ten feet high. The boards adjoined one another so snugly that only the narrowest of cracks appeared between them. Nancy tried to peer through one to see what lay on the other side, but she could make out nothing.

“Hypers!” exclaimed George. “The fence must be five hundred feet long!”

“Come on,” Nancy urged. “Let’s try to find an opening we can see through.”

The girls walked along the fence, their eyes probing for a gate or a wide crack.

“Here’s the end of the fence,” announced Nancy, who was in the lead.

Indeed, it looked like the end, but it was only the end of one side. The board barrier turned sharply at a right angle and continued another two hundred and fifty feet.

When the girls arrived at the middle of the second stretch of fence, Nancy’s alert eyes spotted a small knothole.

“At last!” she exclaimed.

Stepping up eagerly, she closed one eye and peeked through the hole with the other. At first she was unable to see much because of a growth of trees and bushes. Then, shifting her gaze, Nancy saw an old, battered brick wall running parallel to the fence, a short distance back from it. The wall was about eight feet high and was topped by a sloping roof. Obviously it was part of a building. But within the range of her vision Nancy could see no windows.

“Find anything?” George asked impatiently.

“Only an old—” Nancy stopped speaking as she caught sight of something jutting from the roof of the building. Then she cried excitedly:

“Girls, it’s a leaning chimney!”

CHAPTER VIII

Mystery in Manhattan

“LET me see!” George exclaimed excitedly.

Nancy stepped aside so the dark-haired girl could look through the knothole.

“Maybe it’s the abandoned iron mine and smelter!” put in Bess.

“There are so many trees, it’s hard to see just what’s inside,” George said.

“If this is
the
leaning chimney we’re looking for,” Nancy reasoned, “the China clay pit must be somewhere nearby. Possibly inside the fence.”

“Let’s go,” she suggested, starting along the enclosure. “There
must
be an opening somewhere.”

“You lose,” retorted George as the trio rounded the edge of the fence.

No opening was in sight. Instead, the unbroken expanse of boards extended another five hundred feet.

When the girls reached the end of this, the fence took another right angle turn. This time it stretched two hundred and fifty feet.

Bess groaned. “Oh, I’m so tired—and hungry.”

“Perhaps,” teased George, “there’s a baseball park inside. If there is, we’ll stop at the frankfurter stand.”

“Think we’ll need a helicopter to get inside,” Nancy joked, examining the boards closely. “These planks are certainly fitted tight together.”

As they walked on, she kept turning over in her mind several things that mystified her: the air of secrecy about the enclosure, the seeming lack of doors, and the apparent lack of activity.

“Since we can’t get in,” Nancy said, “I’m going to try looking inside to see if I can spot any clay pit.”

Making her way to a nearby tree, she shinned up to the first branch, then swung herself into the crotch of the tree.

“Find anything?” George asked.

“I can’t see much better from here,” Nancy reported. “Too many trees inside.”

Suddenly she was struck by something near the top of the leaning chimney. It was a rusted iron ornament fastened to the bricks.

“What does it look like?” asked George when Nancy reported her discovery.

“A lot of crisscross bars,” Nancy replied. “Maybe the coat of arms of the old mine owner.”

As she climbed down, Bess called from a distance, where she was standing on a little knoll. “I’ve got a good view of it from here.”

George started for the spot when suddenly Bess let out a terrifying scream. Her two friends ran toward her. When they reached the knoll, Bess was trembling with fear.

“What happened?” Nancy demanded.

“Oh, N-Nancy,” Bess said, pointing, “I saw a bony hand reach out of the chimney!”

Nancy and George looked. There was no sign of a hand. Bess said she had closed her eyes a moment to shut out the weird sight. When she had opened them again, the hand was gone.

“I think you’re goofy,” George scoffed. “A person sees things when he gets tired.”

“I’m not that tired,” Bess retorted. “I saw it. I know I did.”

In panic she dashed through the woods toward Nancy’s car. There was nothing for the other girls to do but follow her.