When they reached home Hannah Gruen met them at the kitchen door. “My word, George, where have you been?” she cried out. “Did you fall in the water?”
“I wish I had,” said George. “I’d have been better off.” Quickly she explained about their sleuthing trip to the moss-covered mansion.
The housekeeper was aghast. “The place sounds dreadful. You had better not go there again.”
Bess said, “You can bet I’m not going to.”
She pulled the orange from her pocket, and told Hannah she had taken it from a tree at the strange house.
“This isn’t the same kind as Mr. Billington’s,” Bess said. “Do you suppose it’s a Hamlin, the same as the oranges that were delivered to the Space Center?”
The thought intrigued Nancy. On a bookshelf she had noticed a volume marked Oranges and went to get it. The book was filled with color pictures and one by one she compared Bess’s orange with those in the book.
“This is not a Valencia,” she said, “because it’s the wrong time of year for that kind of tree to be bearing. The fruit’s ripe in the spring. Mr. Billington’s, as you know, are Pineapple Oranges. Remember their bright-orange skin and pineappley shape?” Nancy turned the page and exclaimed, “Here it is! The oranges at the moss-covered mansion are not Hamlins but Parson Browns. Hamlins have a smooth skin while the Parson Browns are pebbly-skinned.”
George sighed. “I guess we’ll have to ride around looking for Hamlin groves to see if we can pick up any clue to the ones that were brought into the Space Center.”
The girls decided to start their search directly after luncheon. They hurried upstairs to take baths and put on fresh clothes.
By the time they came down again, Tina was in the kitchen helping Hannah. The three girls winked at one another and began to set the table.
The menu called for baked chicken with a special kind of cream sauce. Tina said she had never heard of it and did not know how to make the sauce.
“Nancy does it very well,” Hannah said proudly, and called, “Nancy dear, will you come and make cream sauce for the chicken?”
Smiling, Nancy hurried to the kitchen and prepared it.
When everything was ready, Hannah and the girls went to the dining room. They invited Tina to eat with them, but the woman refused, saying she was not hungry. Perhaps by the time Antin came in, she would be ready for her lunch.
Instinct told Nancy not to talk about the moss-covered mansion within Tina’s hearing. The group were relieved when she went outdoors and walked into the grove.
The telephone rang. Nancy answered it. Mr. Datsun, the lawyer, was calling. He wanted to know if Nancy had anything to report. She gave a quick account of her sleuthing but admitted she had learned little about the explosive oranges.
“No one has been able to track down any clue except to Mr. Billington,” the lawyer said.
On a hunch Nancy told him about the old mansion. “Do you know who lives there?”
“No,” the lawyer replied. “Why?”
Nancy explained about the possibility of her father buying the Webster place and the strange behavior of Mr. Scarlett. “Are you acquainted with him?”
“I know there’s a realtor of that name,” said Mr. Datsun, “but I can’t tell you anything about him. I’m afraid I’m no help to you, but I’m hoping you can help me.
“Nancy, a very odd note was left under my office door. Maybe you can figure it out. This is what it says:
“‘Can a mouse with a brain of jelly capture a lion with nerves of steel?”’
“How strange!” Nancy remarked. “Would you mind repeating it?”
Mr. Datsun read it again and Nancy quickly wrote down the words and read those numbered 1, 5, 9, 13. Neither the words nor the first letters of them made any sense.
“Are you still there?” Mr. Datsun asked.
“I’m sorry,” said Nancy. “I was trying to see if there might be a code in this message. I think not. But it occurs to me that it could have been written by some sarcastic person interested in the case of the explosive oranges. The message might imply that you and my father are as helpless as a mouse against a lion.”
“That’s a very good guess,” the lawyer remarked.
Nancy went on, “Whoever the lion is, we’ll catch him!”
“Indeed we will!” Mr. Datson agreed.
After the conversation ended, Nancy continued to think about the message. She suddenly remembered the lion at the moss-covered mansion. Suppose that by some chance this was the beast referred to in the mysterious note! It could mean that the strange setup of the animal enclosure and the odd behavior of Mr. Scarlett are connected with the explosive oranges!
“It would explain why the girls and I aren’t wanted at the Webster house,” Nancy told herself.
At this moment Bess came to warn her that Antin and Tina had come in. The caretaker was taciturn. Not only did he not speak to anyone but did not wait to eat lunch. Instead, the couple went up to their room.
“What’s the matter with him?” George asked.
Before anyone could hazard a guess, an alarm bell began to ring.
“What’s that for?” George asked.
There was pounding on the stairway and Antin came rushing down. “Fire!” he shouted, and rushed out the rear door.
Everyone followed. He sped through the grove to the packing house.
Suddenly Nancy stopped. “I wonder if anyone notified the fire department,” she said. “I’d better go back and phone them anyway.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Bess. “This might have been a ruse to get all of us out of the house.” They had left the doors and windows open.
“We’ll soon find out,” said Nancy.
Hurrying inside, she dashed to the telephone and called the fire department. They had not been notified but said they would come at once.
Quickly Nancy and Bess locked all the doors and windows, and took the kitchen door key with them. As they ran through the grove toward the packing house, the girls noticed that blazes had sprung up here and there among the trees.
“This fire has been deliberately set!” Nancy declared. “Someone started it while the workers were at lunch.” Immediately she wondered where Antin had been. Could he possibly be the arsonist and if so why?
When they caught up to George and Hannah, Nancy told them that the firemen were coming. She rushed up to a burly picker and asked how she could help.
“You’re a girl,” he said. “What can you do?”
Nancy was angry. She turned away. There was nothing she could do to save the orange packing house which was now a mass of flames, but she might be able to do something to preserve the trees. She ran over to Tina, who was sobbing, and asked her.
The woman pointed toward the river. “There’s a hose and a pump down there,” she replied.
Nancy did not wait to hear more. She quickly told Bess and George, and the three rushed off toward the river. It seemed as if trees were burning everywhere. They found the pump and hose, quickly unwound it, and turned on the nozzle. Within minutes they were able to put out the fire in the nearby trees.
“Let’s try another section,” George suggested, and began lugging the hose forward.
Just then they heard the fire engines arriving. The girls, however, kept on with their own work.
In a short while two of the firemen came into the grove dragging a large hose. Suddenly they realized that the trees were already being hosed, and were astounded to see the job being done by three girls.
“Good work!” said one.
With the two steady streams of water, the rest of the fires in the grove were soon extinguished.
“Who’s in charge here?” one of the firemen asked Nancy.
“The foreman, Antin Resardo. I think he’s at the packing house.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Bess suggested. “This place smells horrible.”
The scent of scorched oranges mixed with burning wood was bad enough, but adde
d to this was rank-smelling steam. The girls’ eyes were smarting and they were covered with soot.
“We’ll take care of your hose,” said one of the firemen. “You’d better go to the house and bathe your eyes.”
“We will,” Nancy replied.
On the way, back they met Hannah, who reported that the packing house was a complete wreck.
“It’s a shame,” she said. “The fire chief is convinced this was the work of a firebug.”
Nancy said she thought the arsonist might be the enemy of Mr. Billington who had used his name to deliver the explosive oranges. “Whoever the person is he knows he’s being pursued. He hopes to intimidate Mr. Billington into dropping the hunt by ruining his orange business.”
The others agreed. Hannah said a neighbor had offered to let Mr. Billington use his packing house until he could build a new one. “Only I’m afraid there aren’t many good oranges left.”
When they reached the house Nancy said she must telephone her father at once. “I’ll tell him what has happened so he can pass the word along to Mr. Billington.”
Fortunately he was in his office and she quickly told the story. Mr. Drew was astounded.
“I’ll get in touch with Mr. and Mrs. Billington immediately about coming down. Please stay there. I’ll call you back.”
Within half an hour Mr. Drew phoned. He and the Billingtons were leaving River Heights at once in order to make a quick plane connection in New York.
“We’ll get to Melbourne about ten tonight,” he said. “Please meet us, Nancy.”
“Bess and George and I will be there,” she promised.
Nancy reported the conversation to Hannah and the girls, then said, “I’d like to go back to the packing house and look through the ruins if they’re cool enough. Maybe we’ll find a clue to the arsonist.”
Bess and George were eager to join her.
“Setting those fires was a wicked thing to do,” Bess declared.
When the girls arrived at the water-soaked ruin, they walked around it, their eyes alert for any clue. Suddenly, in a heap of half-burned papers, Nancy spotted something that could be a clue. She bent down and picked up a scrap of paper.
“Look at this!” she exclaimed excitedly.
CHAPTER XI
Off the Market
THE partially burned newspaper which Nancy showed to Bess and George was a copy of the edition which held the name Drew in the code message.
“It’s ringed with red crayon!” Bess burst out. “What does that mean?”
George made a guess. “I think the person who set the fire is a member of some gang out to ruin Mr. Billington’s reputation and business. He’s worried because Mr. Drew and Nancy have been brought in to solve the mystery.”
Nancy agreed. “We have very few clues,” she said, “and everything seems to be so disconnected. What we must do is find a motive for the whole thing.”
Bess suddenly caught her breath. The other girls looked at her and asked, “What’s the matter?”
Bess’s reply was upsetting. “Suppose that firebug takes it into his head to burn down the house we’re staying in!”
There was silence for a few moments. Finally Nancy said, “Perhaps we’d better go back and talk this over with Hannah.”
When they reached the house, Tina and Antin were with Mrs. Gruen. Hannah became alarmed at the thought of another fire.
“I wish we had a good watchdog here,” she said.
Tina was fearful of the house being set on fire, but Antin shrugged off the idea.
“What reason would anyone have for doing such a thing?” he asked Nancy.
She replied, “What reason would anyone have for burning down the packing house and setting fires in the grove?”
As she spoke, Nancy watched the caretaker’s face intently. He showed no change of expression.
Nancy thought, “He certainly is a strange person.” Aloud she asked, “What do you think is going to happen to Mr. Billington’s orange business?”
Antin set his jaw. “That’s up to Mr. Billington. I know what I’d do if it belonged to me—forget the whole thing. But of course I’ll follow whatever orders he gives me.” The foreman stalked from the house.
As it neared time for the girls to leave for the Melbourne airport to pick up Mr. Drew, Hannah confessed that she felt uneasy about staying alone. The Resardos had already left, saying they were going to Ruth’s birthday party.
When George suggested that she come with the girls, Mrs. Gruen said, “I don’t think I should go along and leave this house unprotected.”
“You’re absolutely right,” said Bess. “Nancy, I’ll stay here with Hannah.”
Nancy and George set off. On the way George remarked, “Wouldn’t you think after what happened here today Antin and Tina would have stayed home and waited for the Billingtons? They didn’t even offer to pick them up at the airport!”
Back at the Billington house, Hannah and Bess were startled by loud knocking on the front door. Hannah went to answer it.
“Don’t let anybody in!” Bess called out.
Hannah asked, “Who’s calling?”
“Mr. Scarlett.”
Mrs. Gruen opened the door and the man stepped inside.
“Where’s Nancy Drew?” he asked abruptly.
“She’s not here.”
“Where did she go?”
Bess started to tell him, but Hannah gave the girl a warning look and answered for her.
“Nancy has gone on an errand. Do you have a message for her?”
Mr. Scarlett said indeed he did—a very important one. “Mr. Webster has taken his house off the market. It’s no longer for sale. I must have the key to the house at once. Get it for me.”
Hannah said she had no idea where it was. He would have to wait until Nancy returned.
“I can’t wait,” the realtor snapped. “I must have the key now.” He turned to Bess. “She probably told you where it is. Bring it to me!”
“I don’t know,” the girl replied firmly. “When Nancy returns, I’ll tell her you want the key. She can bring it to you in the morning.”
Mr. Scarlett seemed nonplussed as well as angry. Before he had a chance to make any further demands, Hannah said to him, “That’s all. Good night, Mr. Scarlett.”
She held the door for him and reluctantly he went out.
Immediately Bess said, “Nancy’s going to be dreadfully disappointed about the Webster house being taken off the market. I wonder what the reason was. I gathered from Mrs. Nickerson that Mr. Webster was eager to sell the place.”
As they continued to discuss the strange turn of events, Nancy and George were bowling along the road toward Melbourne. When they were about halfway there, George remarked that a car was racing up behind them.
“That driver certainly is in a hurry,” Nancy remarked, glancing into the rear-view mirror.
Instead of whizzing by, the car suddenly drove up alongside and the driver yelled, “Stop!”
Nancy suddenly recognized the driver and stopped her car.
“Mr. Scarlett!” she exclaimed. “What do you want?”
“The key to the Webster house,” he replied. “Hand it over.”
Nancy said she did not have it with her. She changed the subject abruptly and asked Mr. Scarlett who lived in the moss-covered mansion next to the Webster home.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I’ve never been in there.”
Nancy and George looked at each other but said nothing. Why had Scarlett lied?
The realtor came back to the subject of the key. “Give it to me!”
“I told you I don’t have it with me,” Nancy replied. “But tell me why you want the key. My father is coming down tonight and I need it to show him the house tomorrow morning. I’m sure he’ll buy the place.”
“It’s no longer for sale,” Mr. Scarlett snapped. “Mr. Webster has taken it off the market.”
“What!” George exclaimed. “I understood he wanted to sell it as
soon as possible.”
“Not any more. Tell me where the key is and I’ll go back to the house and get it from your friends.”
Nancy had no intention of doing this. It had occurred to her that this whole story might be false. She would ask her father to get in touch with Mr. Webster direct and learn the truth.
“Hurry up!” Mr. Scarlett shouted.
Before Nancy had a chance to answer, a trooper on a motorcycle whizzed up and stopped. He pulled out a pad and pencil and said to Mr. Scarlett, “You were going way beyond the speed limit.”
“I was in a hurry,” the realtor replied.
George nudged Nancy and whispered, “Now’s your chance to get away.”
Nancy thought so too. Putting the car into gear, she drove off down the road.
George glanced back several times to see if Mr. Scarlett was following them. There was no sign of his car.
As they neared the airport, George said, “It seems strange he knew where to find us. Do you suppose he was at the house and Hannah or Bess told him?”
“Even if he were there, I’m sure they wouldn’t tell him. Besides, they could truthfully say they didn’t know where the key is because I hid it and forgot to tell you all the place.”
Nancy parked and glanced at her watch. Ten minutes to ten.
“Dad should be in soon,” Nancy said, a smile crossing her face. “It will be so good to see him again.”
As the girls walked into the terminal building, they noticed that people waiting to meet relatives or friends looked tense and worried. One woman was pacing the floor nervously, wiping perspiration from her face, though the night was cool.
As she came close to the girls, she said, “The New York plane is in trouble.”
“What’s wrong?” Nancy asked her.
The woman looked at the girl, terror in her eyes. “The landing gear jammed. The wheels won’t come down. This means a crash landing!”
CHAPTER XII
Frustrated Thief
THE girls gasped and rushed outside to watch the plane carrying Mr. Drew and the Billingtons. It was circling the field. The runway had been sprayed with foam. A fire truck and an ambulance stood nearby. Soon the great jetliner began to descend.