Page 8 of The Broken Anchor


  “It’s gone,” Nancy answered. “Someone took it off the rocks where I left it.”

  “Probably the people on the Polka Dot” Carson Drew supplied.

  “Then you think they were the ones who tampered with it in the first place?” George asked.

  “If they were set on keeping us here on this island, sabotaging the boats would be a good way to do it,” Nancy admitted.

  “But Penny’s boat was all right,” George reminded them both.

  “I think we should make sure of that before anyone takes it out again,” Mr. Drew stated.

  “After dinner,” George told them. “It’s almost ready.”

  In spite of the difficulty of the day, dinner was a lively meal, and they were all in a good mood as they made their way down to the dock to inspect the single remaining boat. To everyone’s surprise, it proved sound.

  “Maybe they didn’t have time to do both boats,” George suggested.

  “Or maybe they figured one sinking would be warning enough,” Penny said.

  “At least we’re all safe,” Mr. Drew reminded them. “And we’re learning things about our adversaries, so that helps.”

  "1 just wish we’d learn faster,” Nancy murmured. “Fast enough to get Bess back.”

  “And my grandparents,” Penny added, her usually bright face bleak for a moment. “I’m really afraid for them. They’d never let anyone take the Polka Dot!’

  “Isn’t there any other way we could signal someone?” Carson Drew asked after they reached the resort.

  “I suppose we could try a signal fire,” Penny suggested. “My grandfather told me that they used them a lot in the old days, before they had radios for communication.

  “We’d have to build it on the other end of

  the island, because that’s closest to Swallow

  Cay—the people there are the only ones likely to see a signal fire from this island,” Penny explained. “Plus there are some people from the resort staff that live over there, so they’d be likely to want to investigate.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Nancy said. “What do you say, Dad?”

  “It’s the best chance we’ve got at the moment, so I vote we give it a try.”

  “The same ridge can be seen from the dry islands,” Penny warned.

  “I rather hope someone there sees us and comes over to try to stop us,” Carson Drew observed. “I’d like a chance to talk to them face- to-face for a change.”

  “Maybe we could find out what they want,” George suggested.

  “So what do we do?” Nancy asked Penny. “Gather wood and clear a space on the high-

  est point of the ridge,” Penny answered. “At least that’s what Grandpa says they did. I don’t think he ever saw a signal fire here, but he told me so many stories.” Her face softened and her eyes grew sad again, and Nancy knew that she was wondering if she’d ever see him again.

  “I’m sure he’ll be telling us some rare good stories once we find him and your grandmother,” Carson Drew told her kindly. “Now where should we go to get the wood?”

  “There’s usually dead wood on the outer fringes of the island,” Penny answered. “And there’s a dead palm near the village, I saw it this morning.”

  “Well, if you’ve got an axe, I’ll see what I can do with the palm,” Mr. Drew offered. “The rest of you comb the beaches and clear the ridge. By dark we’ll be ready.”

  This time Nancy welcomed the setting of the sun and the rush of tropical darkness that followed so swiftly. The pile of wood was large, and they had a second pile in reserve to keep the flames blazing as long as possible.

  It was hot on the ridge, even with the evening breeze stirring the palms behind them. Nancy’s shoulders ached both from the rowing and from the wood she’d carried to this spot.

  “How long do you think we should wait to light it?” she asked.

  “Till it’s very dark,” Penny replied.

  George sighed. “I just hope the people who see it don’t think we’re having a gigantic wiener roast.”

  Penny giggled. “I think most of them would realize that a wiener roast would be held on the beach, not the high point of the island.”

  “I just hope there’s someone watching,” Mr. Drew murmured.

  Nancy nodded, staring out over the dark sea, wondering where Swallow Cay and the other islands were, since she’d never been able to see any of them from here. It seemed an endless time till her father lit the huge pile of dry grass and leaves they’d gathered and placed at the heart of their woodpile.

  The fire leaped to life with almost startling speed and the heat was more intense than any of them expected. They retreated at once, watching as the night breeze picked up a few sparks and spun them into the darkness.

  “I hope we don’t need these,” Nancy said, tapping her foot against one of the pails of water they’d carried up from the village.

  “It rained last night,” Penny told her, “so ev-

  everything is pretty wet in the brush. I don’t think there’s much danger as long as we don’t have a lot of wind.”

  “Still, we’d better stay with this till it burns out,” Carson Drew told them. “I’d hate to think we’d burned down the village or destroyed some of the brush with our signal fire.”

  George sighed, dropping to the ground and leaning against a palm. “I think I could sleep right here,” she murmured.

  “It’s too warm for me,” Nancy said. “I think I’ll walk back along the road a little way. Perhaps I can see an answering fire or something else of importance.”

  “I expect they’d be more likely to set off a rocket gun,” Penny told her. “That’s what we’d do if we had the gun from the Polka Dot.” Nancy nodded and moved along the road, not hurrying. She wasn’t really expecting to see a signal from another island. Mostly, she just wanted a few quiet moments to think. There was something nagging at the corner of her mind, if she could just remember what it was.

  The pulsing sound of the motor didn’t penetrate her concentration for several minutes, and by the time her ears picked it up, she was well away from the fire. Rescue? she asked herself, her heart leaping with hope. Or was it their enemies coming back to make more mischief?

  Caution led her to the shadows on the edge of the road as she hurried toward the resort, aware that friends would land at the village dock, while their enemies would be much more likely to anchor in the cove and sneak up that way. Nancy smiled. If she could slip down to their boat while they were creeping up to the resort, she just might be able to get aboard and radio for help before they knew what was going on.

  Suiting actions to her thoughts, she began running along the road, not paying any attention to anything but the area ahead, the break in the line of trees and bushes where the path from the dock came into view. She was concentrating so hard she didn’t notice the shadow moving behind her—not until a hard hand closed over her mouth and a strong arm wrapped around her waist, bringing her to a sudden, frightening stop!

  16. Timely Escape

  “Just where do you think you’re going?” an unfamiliar voice whispered in her ear.

  Nancy tried to fight, kicking and struggling against the hold. But it did her little good, for she was dragged into the darkness and down the hill toward where she could hear the water lapping. The hand over her mouth kept her from crying for help and the difficulty in breathing made her dizzy.

  “Who’s that?” a second male voice asked as they stumbled to a halt.

  “I think we might just have ourselves the elusive Miss Nancy Drew, Tom,” the first man answered. “It was pretty dark up there, so we’ll have to take her on board to make sure.

  “Then what?” Tom asked.

  “Well, it seems likely that her old man would be willing to trade the fancy gold necklace for her, don’t you think?”

  “Do you know how to use it, once we get it, Jack?” Tom’s voice was familiar. Nancy recognized it as the voice of the “caretaker” she’d spoken with whi
le she was still in Miami.

  “I just know it’s the key to the treasure, that’s all.” Jack’s tone was grim.

  “Think she knows anything?” Tom was staring at her in the light of the stars and the rising moon.

  “Help me put her in the raft,” Jack ordered. “I want to get her out of here before the rest of them miss her and come looking.”

  “What are they doing up there, anyway?” Tom inquired as they lifted her roughly into a bouncing rubber raft, then hauled it out into the waves.

  Nancy tried to free her mouth again, but Jack’s hold was firm and his thumb slipped up over her nose, cutting off all her air in warning. “The idiots are lighting a signal fire,” he told Tom. “I guess they’re getting desperate.” “Maybe we should let them get off the island,” Tom suggested. “Get rid of them.”

  Jack freed her nose so she could breath, then laughed without humor. “Think they’ll leave without the old couple and the blond girl?” he asked. “We let them contact anybody on the outside and this island will be covered with cops. We won’t have a chance at the treasure.” “So what are you going to do?” Tom sounded dubious, as though he’d lost faith in the entire plan.

  “I’ll come up with a plan,” Jack snapped. “You just be ready to help me once I get all the details worked out.”

  “I .. Tom began, but then the raft gave a strange jerk and Nancy felt the hold on her mouth and body released. The two men began swearing and moving around on the raft, nearly capsizing it.

  Nancy didn’t wait to discover what was causing the trouble. She rolled over the low side and into the cold water without hesitation, taking time only to glimpse the direction of the shore as she pushed off from the raft with one kick. Angry shouts filled the air as she stroked away, trying to keep as much of her body under the cool water as she could.

  The splashing of oars sounded loud behind her, but she felt again the pull of the friendly tide that had helped her when her boat was sinking. This time she trusted the tide enough

  to stop swimming and let it carry her along. In a moment she heard the words that told her she was doing the right thing.

  “Where the heck did she go?” Jack was demanding.

  “I don’t see her,” Tom answered. “Do you think she drowned?”

  Muttered curses followed that suggestion and more splashing of oars as they moved the small raft one way, then another. Nancy lifted her head from the water to check her location and saw that she was drifting away from the bulk of the big boat, which appeared to be anchored in the lee of a large rocky ledge. The raft was now headed away from her and she was washing around the curving headland toward the cove.

  Did she dare try to get on the boat? Nancy asked herself. She was swimming again now that she was sure the two men wouldn’t easily spot her in the rough water. It was tempting. If she could just reach the radio and send an SOS . . .

  “She must have gone under.” Tom’s voice carried well on the water.

  “We’d better get out of here,” Jack agreed. “They’re going to come looking once they miss her at their bonfire. We sure don’t want to be seen hanging around here.”

  Nancy stroked for shore, giving up any idea of trying to get on the boat ahead of the men. She had learned several things and she was anxious to discuss them with her father. If the men were leaving Anchor Island now, Nancy and the others would have the whole night to figure out what the medallion meant and to plan a way to rescue Bess and the DeFoes.

  A sudden darkness overcame Nancy and startled her out of her thoughts. She paused, treading water as she looked around. She was no longer in the open ocean at all. Rocky walls rose on two sides with only a small ledge to offer her refuge as she tried to make sense of it.

  “Well, for heaven’s sake,” she murmured as she pulled herself up on the ledge, shivering with the effect of the cold water and her brush with the kidnappers. From the ledge she could see the rocky slit that she had come through and she realized that she was in some kind of cavern.

  Though she was curious about it, the velvet darkness was close to complete—so deep she couldn’t even see how far the cavern continued into the island. Sighing, she scrambled to her feet and tried picking her way along the rough ledge toward the starlit world outside.

  After a few feet, she was forced back into the

  deep and restless water, which was hard swimming until she was clear of the opening. Her strength was nearly gone by the time she pulled herself up onto the rocks and lay there panting, cold and miserable, but glad to be safe and free of the men.

  “Nancy, Nancy, where are you?” George’s voice echoed strangely down the hillside.

  “George!” she shouted. “George, I’m down here!”

  The welcome finger of light from a flashlight sliced through the darkness around her, and in a moment George came sliding down in a shower of rocks and sand. “What in the world happened to you?” she demanded as soon as she saw Nancy’s dripping, bedraggled condition.

  Nancy explained as quickly as she could while George helped her climb the hill to the road. “What are you doing here?” Nancy asked, looking back along the road to where the fire should have been blazing. “Where is everyone? What happened to the fire?”

  “I was looking for you,” George answered, then continued taking Nancy’s questions in order. “Your father and Penny are down in the village keeping a watch for sparks. We had to douse the fire when the wind suddenly shifted. I guess you didn’t notice it on the water, but Penny says it’s a storm wind and it does seem to be blowing harder.”

  Nancy shivered as they left the protection of the trees and brush, and she felt the strengthening wind as it blew from a new direction. “That could have been bad,” she agreed. “With the fire, I mean. Did anything burn?”

  “We had to put out a couple of grass fires and one roof got a little singed, but Penny found a hose to attach to the faucet in the village, so they have everything under control there. They’ll just have to wait till they’re sure nothing more is smoldering.”

  “Dad must be awful worried about me,” Nancy said, hesitating, torn between a need for dry clothes and the knowledge that she should go and let her father know she was safe.

  “You go in and get into dry clothes,” George ordered, seeming to read her mind. “I’ll go tell your father what happened. We’ll be back as soon as everything is watered down.”

  “Thanks, George,” Nancy said. “That wind is really cold with wet clothes.”

  George chuckled. “It felt good to us while we were up by the signal fire, but I’m beginning to see what Penny means. It does feel colder and damper now. I think it is bringing in a storm.”

  “I’ll make some cocoa as soon as I get dry,” Nancy promised, leaving her friend and running in her squishing sandals, which she’d never had time to remove. Luckily, she’d come ashore close to the resort, so the distance wasn’t far.

  The lights were burning in the kitchen, telling her that Tom and Jack hadn’t bothered with the generator on this visit, which was a relief. What had they been doing here? she asked herself as she stripped off the ruined shoes and padded barefoot and still dripping through the resort to her room.

  A quick hot shower rinsed the salt water from her hair and skin. She wrapped her hair in a towel and pulled on a warm pants suit, then hurried to the kitchen to put the milk on to heat for the cocoa. That started, she opened the freezer and took out the bread loaf that contained the medallion.

  The icy gold necklace gleamed at her tantalizingly as she unwrapped it. The key to the treasure—that was what the men had called it. That seemed to fit with the legends Penny had told them. Yet what did it mean?

  Nancy held the medallion in her hand, her fingers covering the side that had been damaged as she stared at the rest. It looked like an anchor, she realized suddenly. A current of excitement burned through her as she set the medallion on the table and studied it, comparing it to an image in her mind. She was still there when the kitchen door
opened and the others trooped in.

  “What is it, Nancy,” her father asked, his tone heavy with concern.

  Nancy looked up at him, her face blazing with joy. “I think I know what the medallion means,” she told them. “I’ve discovered its secret!”

  17. Exploring for Answers

  Penny moved to the stove to stir the cocoa as Mr. Drew and George joined Nancy in bending over the medallion. “Don’t you see it?” Nancy asked as their curious gazes left the medallion and returned to her face.

  “I guess not,” her father admitted. “What is it?”

  “A broken anchor,” Nancy answered. “Just as this island is in the shape of a broken anchor.” “That’s true,” Penny said, joining them. “I think that was the first name for the island, but it got shortened to just plain Anchor Island.” “You mean the medallion wasn’t damaged?” Carson Drew asked, picking up the necklace to study it more closely. “Then what is all this

  gold work on the other side?” His fingers traced the lines that had been etched into the disk.

  “I think it’s a map,” Nancy answered. “A treasure map!”

  “The pirate treasure?” Penny gasped. “You mean all the legends are true?”

  “Well, that’s what Tom and Jack seemed to think,” Nancy answered. “That’s why they’re keeping us here. They seem sure that the treasure is somewhere on this island and that this medallion is the key.”

  “Those scratches are impossible to read,” George said. “They don’t make any sense.” Nancy nodded. “Precisely what I was thinking. So why don’t we try to get a clear rubbing of them with paper and soft lead or charcoal.” “I’ve got some charcoal,” Penny said. “I brought all my art supplies. I even have some paper that should be just right for a rubbing on something that fine.”

  “Suppose you fill me in on the details of what happened to you, Nancy,” Carson Drew suggested as Penny left the kitchen, while George poured the cocoa and got some cookies out of the cookie jar.