Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
CHAPTER I - The Peacock Mystery
CHAPTER II - An Unpleasant Neighbor
CHAPTER III - A Plea for Help
CHAPTER IV - A Puzzling Telegram
CHAPTER V - Telltale Magazine
CHAPTER VI - The Paint Clue
CHAPTER VII - Jigsaw in Glass
CHAPTER VIII - An Angry Suspect
CHAPTER IX - Surprise Visitors
CHAPTER X - The Haunted House
CHAPTER XI - Cowboy Luke
CHAPTER XII - A Weird Disappearance
CHAPTER XII - The Slave Tunnel
CHAPTER XIV - A Midnight Chase
CHAPTER XV - A Worrisome Gift
CHAPTER XVI - A Wonderful Discovery
CHAPTER XVII - A Ghost Confesses
CHAPTER XVIII - Rifled Luggage
CHAPTER XIX - Captured!
CHAPTER XX - The Secret of Ivy Hall
THE HIDDEN WINDOW MYSTERY
A magazine article offering a large reward to anyone who can find a missing medieval stained-glass window intrigues Nancy. She asks Bess and George to join her on a search in Charlottesville, Virginia. Before the three friends leave River Heights, their adversary tries to get them to postpone the trip. But no luck. Nancy is determined to carry through her plans.
During the girls’ investigation of old southern mansions, they encounter a ghost who turns the tables and makes them disappear. Eerie sounds come from a beautiful estate that is surrounded by a high brick wall. Why will the owner allow no one to enter?
How Nancy solves these mysteries and locates the stained-glass window will keep the readers on edge for many hours.
The ghost!
Copyright © 1975, 1956 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved.
Published by Grosset & Dunlap, Inc., a member of The Putnam &
Grosset Group, New York. Published simultaneously in Canada. S.A.
NANCY DREW MYSTERY STORIES® is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.
eISBN : 978-1-101-07735-1
2008 Printing
http://us.penguingroup.com
CHAPTER I
The Peacock Mystery
“GOOD-BY, Hannah!” said Nancy Drew. She hugged the motherly, middle-aged housekeeper, then put a hand on the front-door knob.
“Watch out for falling tree branches,” Hannah Gruen warned the attractive reddish-blond-haired girl. “This is the worst April wind I’ve ever seen. We should have had it last month. March is the time for high winds.”
Outside, there was a continuous roar. But above the din, Nancy and Mrs. Gruen heard a loud crash on the front porch.
“What was that?” Hannah asked, worried.
Nancy yanked the door open. “Oh!” she exclaimed.
Lying in a heap near the edge of the porch was their letter carrier, Mr. Ritter. He was unconscious. His bag had tumbled down the steps, and letters, newspapers, and magazines were flying about.
Nancy and Hannah rushed to the man’s side. He had evidently hit his head, for there was a large red mark on his temple. They lifted the victim gently and carried him into the living room.
“Maybe we’d better call a doctor,” Nancy suggested.
Mr. Ritter’s eyelids flickered. In a short while the sixty-year-old letter carrier regained consciousness and refused medical assistance.
“I’ll be all right in a minute, but I’d appreciate it if you’d bring in my mailbag. By the way, Nancy, there’s something in it you’ll be mighty interested in.”
The young girl hurried from the house. Her blue eyes sparkling in anticipation, she began to gather the letters, newspapers, and magazines that were being swirled across the neighboring lawns by the strong winds. It took Nancy nearly ten minutes to collect the mail.
She entered the living room with the mailbag slung over her shoulder. She was glad to see Mr. Ritter sitting up in a chair and drinking a cup of tea.
“Oh, thank you, Nancy,” the letter carrier said. “It was mighty careless of me to stumble and knock myself out. That wind is fierce. It blew some dirt into my eye, and for a moment I couldn’t see where I was going.”
“How do you feel?” Nancy asked gently.
Mr. Ritter declared he would be ready to resume his deliveries in a few minutes. “I’d like to finish my tea before I face the blustery weather.”
“May I help you sort the mail?” Nancy offered. “And what was it you wanted to show me?”
As Mr. Ritter began rummaging in the bag, he said, “I read an article in a magazine telling about a large reward. It’s being offered to anyone who can solve the mystery of a missing stained-glass window.”
Nancy was intrigued at once. “What magazine was the article in?” she asked eagerly.
Mr. Ritter pulled a torn, soiled copy of the Continental from his bag. “This is for your new neighbor, Mrs. Dondo.”
Nancy said she did not know the woman.
“I’m sure she won’t mind if you look at the article,” the letter carrier said. “You’re a good amateur detective, Nancy, and if you can solve this one, you’ll certainly put another feather in your cap.”
Nancy smiled and began to read. Sir Richard Greystone of England was trying to trace a medieval stained-glass window that had been in his family since the fourteenth century. He believed the window had been brought to the United States about 1850, but all trace of it had been lost. Sir Richard was offering a large reward for any information leading to its whereabouts.
The article went on to describe the window, which pictured a knight riding off to battle. The family shield he was holding had a peacock emblazoned on it.
Nancy’s eyes danced with excitement. “Thank you, Mr. Ritter, for telling me about this,” she said. “Is there time for Hannah to read the article?”
The letter carrier said a few minutes more before getting back to delivering the mail would not matter.
When the housekeeper finished reading, she looked puzzled. “A peacock on the shield, eh?” she said. “You know some folks think peacocks, especially the feathers in their fantails, bring bad luck.”
“But I know you don’t believe that,” Nancy declared.
“Those marks in the fan,” the housekeeper stated, “are said to be evil eyes.” She looked at Nancy affectionately. “But I always taught you not to be superstitious.”
Hannah Gruen had lived with the Drews and taken care of Nancy ever since the girl’s mother had passed away fifteen years ago, when Nancy was three years old.
“A reward for anyone who can solve the mystery of a missing stained-glass window,” Mr. Ritter said.
Nancy remarked that in India peacocks are held to be sacred.
“That’s right,” Mr. Ritter agreed. “And so are the cow and the monkey.”
The letter carrier stood up and announced that he felt well enough to return to his delivery route. “I’m already late,” he said. “Folks will be wondering what’s happened to their mail.”
He thanked Nancy and Hannah for their assistance, then started for the door, accompanied by the others. As he reached it, the bell rang and someone began pounding loudly on the door.
When Mr. Ritter opened it, Nancy and Hannah saw a strange woman standing there. Her bleached blond hair, blown by the wind, stuck out straight from her head. She was short and sallow-complexioned. Her dark eyes blazed.
“How do you do, Mrs. Dondo,” said the letter carrier. “I’d like you to meet your neighbors, Nancy Drew and Hannah Gruen.”
The woman did not acknowledge the greeting, and ignored Nancy and Hannah. Waving a fist at Mr. Rit
ter, she said, “I saw what was going on. You’ve been taking time out in this house. Do you realize how long you’ve been here? Why aren’t you on the job?”
Nancy and the others were so startled by the woman’s irate manner that they stood open-mouthed.
“Listen here, Mr. Ritter,” the woman went on, “you’ve got some mail for me, and I want it right away. There’s an important letter I have to have and you’ve been dillydallying all this time. Give it to me at once!”
Mrs. Dondo pushed her way into the hall and leaned over the mailbag. She put her hand in to grab a letter, but Mr. Ritter told her he would tend to this himself. Quickly he went over every piece of mail in his pouch.
“There’s nothing for you today, Mrs. Dondo, except a magazine,” he said. He handed the Continental to her.
“And what a mess it is!” she shouted. “More of your carelessness. And don’t tell me there wasn’t a letter for me. It was in your bag before you let the mail blow all over the neighborhood. You’d better find it too! That letter had a hundred dollars in it, and I don’t propose to lose it!”
“A hundred dollars!” Mr. Ritter cried out, a look of alarm coming over his face.
“Yes, a hundred dollars!” Mrs. Dondo repeated. “And if you’ve lost that letter, you’re going to pay me the money yourself!”
CHAPTER II
An Unpleasant Neighbor
FoR a moment Nancy thought Mr. Ritter would collapse; he was so upset.
“Mrs. Dondo,” she asked, “do you have any proof that the letter was in this particular delivery?”
“You keep out of this,” the woman said, glaring at the young girl. “I’ll handle the matter in my own way.”
“I doubt that you could make any claim,” Nancy went on, despite the rebuff.
“I’ll get proof and I’ll see that I get paid!” Mrs. Dondo screamed. “I’ll carry this story to the postmaster!”
Hannah Gruen stepped forward. “But right now you’ll get out of this house,” she said firmly.
With an angry shrug the unpleasant woman turned and left. Nancy asked Mr. Ritter where she lived.
“Down near the corner,” he replied.
Nancy offered to search further for Mrs. Dondo’s letter or any others she might have missed. From the time Nancy had discovered The Secret of the Old Clock up to the young detective’s latest adventure, The Witch Tree Symbol, she had been helping people, often exposing herself to grave danger.
“My little terrier, Togo, is good at finding things,” Nancy told the letter carrier. “I’ll get him to help me.”
She urged Mr. Ritter not to be too concerned about Mrs. Dondo’s accusation. They both knew it was illegal to send cash through the mail.
The letter carrier said he was still worried. Even though the woman could not collect the money from him or the postal authorities, a complaint to the postmaster for carelessness would be a black mark on his record.
“And I’m near retirement age,” he added. “I’d like to leave this job with a clean slate.”
“You will,” Nancy said, smiling at him affectionately.
After Mr. Ritter had gone, the young sleuth hurried to the kitchen, where Togo was taking a nap. “Before I go shopping, pal,” she said, “we have a job to do. Come with me.”
The little dog jumped up, cocked his head, and followed his mistress into the front hall. She was showing him a white envelope when the telephone rang. The caller was Bess Marvin, one of Nancy’s two best friends.
“What’s new?” Bess asked.
“A couple of mysteries. Why don’t you and George come over and I’ll tell you all about them?”
“Sounds like fun. We’ll be right there.”
George Fayne and Bess Marvin were cousins. George, in keeping with her boyish name, wore her dark hair short and preferred sporty clothes. Bess, in contrast, was very feminine and chose to dress along those lines. She was blond and slightly overweight because of her fondness for rich food.
Nancy went outside to wait for the girls, who arrived in exactly ten minutes.
“Hypers, Nancy,” said George, “you hardly give us time to recover from one mystery before you have another to solve. What’s going on now?”
Nancy laughed. Then, sobering, she quickly explained the need for a further hunt for Mrs. Dondo’s letter.
When she finished, Bess said, “I’ve heard Mother speak of Mrs. Dondo. She says the woman is a troublemaker.”
George warned, “You’d better be careful, Nancy.”
“In what way is she a troublemaker?” Nancy asked.
Bess said that Mrs. Dondo had come from Virginia. “She left there because of some unpleasantness with her neighbors. At least, that’s what Mother heard at a club meeting.”
“What was the matter with her?” George demanded.
Bess said Mrs. Dondo was a social climber, a schemer, and a very unpopular person. “She isn’t a bit like other people in this neighborhood,” Bess went on. “I can’t understand why she came here.”
Meanwhile, Togo had been crawling under the hedges and foundation plantings of nearby homes, sniffing for envelopes like the one his mistress had shown him. While waiting for the girls, Nancy had been looking in the trees and high bushes. Neither she nor the dog had had any luck.
Bess and George eagerly joined the search and for nearly a half hour the group combed the entire area thoroughly.
Finally Bess sighed. “If there were ever any letters around here, they’re gone now. Maybe other neighbors found them.”
“That’s very possible,” Nancy agreed. She said that since all the families in the neighborhood were fine people, they would have delivered any mail they found to the addressees.
“Then maybe Mrs. Dondo has her letter by now,” George suggested. “Let’s find out.”
“And if she doesn’t,” said Nancy, “I’ll try talking her out of going to the postmaster. I’d hate to see Mr. Ritter get into trouble. He’s been a wonderful friend to all of the people on his route.”
The three girls walked to the Dondo house. Before they had a chance to ring the bell, sounds of quarreling voices came from the open window. A man, whom the girls assumed to be Mr. Dondo, was reprimanding the woman.
“That was a pretty cheap trick of yours, trying to get easy money out of the mailman.”
The woman flared in reply. “What do you know about it?”
“I know this much,” the man replied. “That good-for-nothing brother of yours, Alonzo, would never send you a hundred dollars.”
“Oh, be quiet!” Mrs. Dondo screamed. “Alonzo is all right. You just don’t like him.”
“You bet I don’t like him, and for good reason, too. Alonzo’s too slick for his own good. If he ever told you he was sending you a hundred dollars, he sure was kidding you.”
When Mrs. Dondo would not admit that her husband was right, he said, “I don’t like your brother’s business dealings, but I don’t think he’s stupid. Alonzo wouldn’t send that much cash through the mail.”
The three girls looked at one another and smiled. Nancy had never picked up such incriminating information just by accidental eavesdropping! She and her friends tiptoed away and hurried back with Togo to the Drews’.
“Mrs. Dondo may still try to make trouble for Mr. Ritter,” said Bess, as they went inside.
“Let her try it!” George said with disgust.
“Nancy, Bess told me that you had two cases to solve. What’s the other one?”
Nancy smiled. “The three of us are going to hunt for a stained-glass window.”
“What!” the cousins chorused.
Quickly Nancy explained about the article in the Continental and the reward offered to anyone finding the old window that pictured the knight with the peacock shield.
George looked interested, then grinned. With a twinkle in her eye, she asked, “Nancy, what’ll you do with all that money? You may ruin your amateur standing as a detective.”
Nancy quickly explained that
she would not take the money for herself. “I’ve been thinking I’d love to make a donation to the Hospital Fund —toward the new children’s wing. If I win the reward money, it can be paid directly to the hospital.”
“That sounds wonderful,” said Bess.
“Will you help me?” Nancy asked the cousins. “Then we can make the donation together.”
George agreed at once, but Bess said one angle of the mystery worried her. She was seated in a large upholstered chair in the living room, near the doorway into the hall. Now she pulled her feet up under her and propped her chin on one fist. “I don’t like this peacock business.”
“Don’t tell me you’re superstitious about peacocks!” George teased.
“You know better than that,” Bess said. She turned to Nancy and asked, “Have you any theory as to what happened to the stained-glass window?”
“No,” the young sleuth replied. “Of course the window may have been destroyed long ago, but I’m hoping it hasn’t been.”
“It could have been taken down and stored away,” George said. “People sometimes get tired of looking at stained-glass windows and remove them, just as they do pictures.”
“The place where the window was may have changed owners several times,” Bess said. “They may have had a lot of hard luck and blamed it on those evil eyes in the peacock’s fan.”
“Oh, Bess,” said George, “you always‾”
The words were hardly spoken when a terrific bang startled Nancy and her friends. The next moment a gust of wind blew into the room, carrying with it a large peacock feather, which came to rest at Bess’s feet! The girl shrieked.
CHAPTER III
A Plea for Help
FOR a few tense seconds the girls did not move. Bess was too terrified, George and Nancy too startled.
Then Nancy sprang from her chair and dashed into the hall. Wind roared through the wide-open front door. She slammed it shut and looked around, wondering where the peacock feather had come from.