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Authors: Carolyn G. Keene

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BOOK: The Strange Message in the Parchment

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“I think he was off chasin’ a wild dog, maybe. I heard another dog bark.”

“I have something for you in the jeep,” Junie said. “My father asked me yesterday to bring you a walkie-talkie. If you have any more unwanted visitors here, just call the farmhouse and reinforcements will come at once to help you.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Eezy said. “I hope I won’t have to use it.”

As the girls walked to the car to get the instrument, Junie said, “It’s too bad Eezy didn’t have the walkie-talkie sooner.”

“I wonder if he would have had a chance to use it,” Nancy said. “Obviously he talked to the men first, but didn’t realize they would beat him up.”

Junie nodded. “Now that he knows, he can call if he sees them in the distance.”

When the girls returned to the cabin, Junie showed the shepherd how to use the walkie-talkie.

Eezy’s eyes twinkled. “I can call you now and ask you to come up and keep me company!”

“You do that,” Junie said, then the girls bid him good-by. On the way home they discussed the incident.

“Have you any idea what the men could have wanted that Eezy didn’t approve of?” Nancy asked.

“Not the slightest,” her friend replied. “Of course, I suspect that they might have been trying to bribe him into helping them rustle sheep. But then it might have been something more personal that Eezy didn’t want to talk about.”

Nancy asked if there was much sheep rustling in the rest of the neighborhood.

“No,” Junie replied. “There are only a few sheep farms around here besides Dad’s. More than likely, since they had only a car with them and planned to steal sheep, they would have taken only one or two for food.”

“Then it’s more of a puzzle than ever what they wanted Eezy to do that he wouldn’t, and his refusal made them so mad they knocked him out.”

Junie suggested that perhaps her father might have some ideas on the subject, so after dinner that evening she asked him. He thought for some time and wrinkled his brow. “I don’t like this. There are so many miles of unguarded fields in this area that all kinds of things could happen. The attack on Eezy bothers me. It’s too bad you didn’t get a better glimpse of those men.”

Nancy said they were of medium height and build. Both wore hats pulled far down, so she could not see the color of their hair or their skin.

“Hm,” Mr. Flockhart said, “I’ll alert the State Police to keep an eye open.” He went to the hall telephone to call them.

While he was gone, Nancy stared at the parchment over the mantel. Then she got up and stood beneath it, taking in every detail.

When Mr. Flockhart returned to the room, he said, “I see you have already started looking for clues to solve the mystery of my parchment.”

Nancy admitted that she had noticed only one thing so far. She could not find an artist’s name on it.

“That’s right,” he agreed.

“The first picture,” Nancy went on, “is of a lovely woman but she’s not doing anything to indicate what part she is playing in the message.”

“That’s true,” Mr. Flockhart replied. “What about the second one?”

Nancy studied it for several seconds. “A portrait of the upper part of a man, but a rear view,” she said. “All I can see is that he seems stocky and has dark hair. That’s not much help.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“The third picture is the most intriguing of all,” Nancy went on. “See that group of angels in flowing robes floating in the heavens? And the one in the center is holding an infant. All the others are looking at it adoringly. It’s just beautiful. Only a very fine artist could have painted that.”

Nancy now concentrated on the fourth painting, the scene of a sailing ship being rammed by a steamer.

“I think it’s an accident that really happened,” Junie said. “Nancy, what’s your guess?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps the steamer is wrecking the sailing ship intentionally. I’m sure there’s a message here. But what?”

Turning to Mr. Flockhart, she asked, “From whom did you buy this parchment?”

“From my neighbor, Sal Rocco,” Junie’s father replied.

Nancy instantly remembered the unpleasant man and became very thoughtful. “Did he tell you where he got it?”

“He said he bought it at an auction, but was tired of it and agreed to sell the parchment painting to me.”

“Does he know what it means?”

“No. I asked him if there was any story to it, and he said not as far as he knew.”

“Have you ever taken this parchment out of its frame?” Nancy went on.

“No,” Mr. Flockhart replied. “Why?”

“There might be a message on the back, or at least a clue to one.”

“Good idea,” Mr. Flockhart said. “Let’s take it out right now!”

CHAPTER V

Bird Attack

THE mystery picture was carefully framed, and looked as if it had never been opened. Mr. Flockhart removed the backing, then slid out the parchment. He held it up for the others to see.

“It’s even more beautiful out of the frame!” Junie exclaimed.

Mr. Flockhart handed the picture to Nancy, who turned it over.

“Here’s an initial,” she noted. “It’s an A.” She flipped the picture over to look at the front again. In a moment she exclaimed, “The A is directly in back of the baby who is being held by the angel!”

Mr. Flockhart said, “I wonder if it has anything to do with St. Anthony.”

The others doubted this, and Junie asked, “Is there another notation on the back?”

Nancy looked closely. “Yes, there is,” she said, excited. “In the lower right-hand corner are the initials DB, and under it is printed
Milano.”

“Milano?” Mr. Flockhart repeated. “That must mean Milano, Italy, although there is one in Texas.”

Nancy turned to him. “I assume Mr. Rocco is Italian. Perhaps he brought the parchment from Italy.”

“That’s a logical guess,” Mr. Flockhart replied. “He might have bought it at an auction over there.” He smiled at Nancy. “I can see why you are known as such a good detective. Just by taking the parchment out of the frame you’ve come up with a couple of clues already!”

“Oh, don’t compliment me now,” she answered modestly. “Wait until I’ve solved the case.”

Junie teased, “Your next stop may be Milano!”

“I think we should go and see Mr. Rocco,” Nancy said. “He might be able to tell us more.”

Junie’s father agreed, but said, “Not tonight, please. Wait until morning.”

Nancy asked Junie if she knew the way to the Rocco farm. The girl shook her head. “I’ve never been there. Dad, can you tell us how to get to Mr. Rocco’s?”

“Sure,” Mr. Flockhart said and gave the girls explicit directions. “As you know,” he added, “I don’t care for the man. Please be very careful while you’re there. He may become suspicious that I’m sending you over to see him with some ulterior motive in mind. I don’t want that to happen. After all he is a good customer and I’d hate to lose his business.”

Nancy and Junie said they understood and would follow his instructions. Then they went to bed early so they would be well rested for their mission.

The following morning after breakfast they drove to the Rocco Farm. When they arrived, the girls noticed that the house and grounds were surrounded by a high fence. There were two iron gates blocking the entrance.

The friends looked at each other in dismay. “Your father was right,” Nancy said. “This man must be suspicious of everyone in the area to barricade himself like this. What a terrible way to live!”

Junie tried to open the gates, but found that they were locked. “Stymied already,” she said.

“Here’s a bell,” Nancy said, pushing the button. “We’re not defeated yet. Where there’s a will, there’s a way!”

The girls waited, but no one came to
answer
their call. Nancy pressed the button again, holding it firmly in place for several seconds. Still there was no response of any kind.

“I can’t imagine that there’s no one around,” Junie remarked. “Surely there must be someone to come and let us in.”

Nancy said that perhaps the owner did not want any visitors. “Or maybe the bell doesn’t work,” she added. “Are you game to climb over the fence with me, Junie?”

“Sure.”

Since both girls were wearing jeans and shirts, it was not much trouble for them to get over the enclosure. In front of them was a long lane, bordered on both sides by a stone wall.

“Not a very inviting place,” Junie remarked, gazing ahead. “Soon we’ll see a sign saying, ‘Beware of the people who live here. They may bite.’ ”

Nancy laughed, then said, “Let’s keep our eyes and ears open. We don’t want to miss anything. Look over there. Several cars are parked near the house. This proves somebody is home. Probably Mr. Rocco is having a very private meeting and doesn’t want any outsiders around. That’s why he wouldn’t answer the bell.”

The girls went on. They had almost reached the stone farmhouse when they became aware of great fluttering overhead. Startled, they looked up. The next second a huge flock of black birds descended and attacked the visitors viciously!

“Ouch!” Junie cried out. “That hurts. Get away from me!”

She and Nancy tried hard to fight off their unfriendly attackers. The large birds had long claws and prominent beaks. Each girl put one arm over her face and with her free hand tried batting at the birds to make them fly away. But their efforts seemed hopeless, and the battle continued.

The vicious birds attacked Nancy and Junie.

Making no headway, Nancy and Junie began to scream as loudly as they could. “Help! Help! Someone please help us!”

Their cries were almost drowned out by the raucous noise made by the birds. No one answered the girls’ pleas, so in desperation they dropped to the ground and doubled up, putting their heads and arms under their bodies. This seemed to anger the birds, who made more noise than ever and pecked mercilessly at the helpless visitors.

Once Nancy raised her head and screamed at the top of her lungs. “Help us! Quick! We need help! Hurry!”

Whether it was her cry that was heard by the men in the house or the frightening noise of the birds, the girls did not know. Several men rushed out, yelling. Finally the birds flew off.

One man walked up to Nancy and Junie and asked in an unpleasant, demanding voice, “What are you doing here? Don’t you know this is private property?”

Junie explained that her family was a neighbor to Mr. Rocco and they had come to see him on an important matter. “Please take us to him.”

“You can’t visit him now,” the man replied. “He’s in conference. How did you get into the grounds?”

Neither girl answered. They were staring at their interrogator and at the other men who by now had arrived at the scene. All of them looked tough and unfriendly. Rocco’s pals resembled underworld characters, Junie and Nancy thought.

“Who owns those birds?” Nancy asked. “Mr. Rocco?”

In a surly voice one of the group replied, “What makes you think anybody owns them? In any case, it’s none of your business. What right do you have to ask questions? Now get out of here before you cause any more trouble.”

Junie asked him, “Will you please unlock the gate?”

The man squinted at the girls and said, “No, I won’t, and neither will anybody else. We’ve had enough guff from you smart alecks. You got in here; now get out. But don’t try any funny stuff, because I’ll be watching you!”

With no choice Nancy and Junie hurried down the lane. The man who had ordered them out followed at a distance. He made no move to open the gate, so once more the girls were forced to climb the fence.

Junie then drove toward Triple Creek, but took a road traversing the neighboring village. “Let’s stop at the general store and get some ice cream,” she said. “All that exercise has made me hungry. Besides, when I get mad I get hot, and something cool will taste good.”

The girls went into the store, which included a few tables where customers could eat sandwiches, cookies, and ice cream.

Nancy and Junie sat down. Presently a woman came to wait on them, and after serving heaping saucers of vanilla ice cream topped with whipped cream and pecans, she stopped to talk to them. Junie introduced her as Mrs. Potter, and said she managed the store for a friend. She then told the woman of the girls’ recent experience.

“You know Mr. Rocco, don’t you?” Junie said. “What can you tell us about him?”

The woman stiffened. “Nothing good,” she replied. “Besides, he has some men working for him that I don’t like. They were in here one day, talking to me. I couldn’t agree with a thing they said. I never want to see them again and I hope from now on they’ll all shop in another store.”

“Could you tell us why you don’t like him?” Junie asked.

“No, I’d rather not. It was something concerning my work, and I don’t care to discuss it. Sorry.”

BOOK: The Strange Message in the Parchment

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