Nancy's Mysterious Letter
“How long have you lived here?” she asked.
“Maybe a year, maybe two,” Joe said. “My old woman moved out here so I’d be far from the sea and maybe stay home more. But I could smell salt water if I was in the middle of a desert! Speaking of deserts, I must tell you—”
Nancy interrupted quickly. “Did you ever know a young woman by the name of Nancy Drew?”
“Nancy Drew? Well, I’ll say I did, and a trim little figurehead she was, and as neat as an admiral’s cutter. Did you know her?”
Nancy shook her head. “I’m trying to locate a Nancy Smith Drew who’s wanted in England,” she said.
Sailor Joe whistled “Wanted in England, is she? And for what? That girl never did a wrong thing in her life.”
“Oh, she isn’t wanted by the authorities,” Nancy hastened to say. “A relative died and left her some money.”
“Ah-ha! That’s a jib of another cut.” Joe grinned. “Yes, Nancy Smith Drew used to room with my missus in New York. She kept a roomin’ house then.
“Well, well, I’m glad Miss Drew come into some money, for she was hard up, that she was. Studying for the stage, and a fine figure of an actress she’d ’a’ made. Tall and beautiful with a fine deep voice.”
Nancy was excited. “Where is Nancy Smith Drew now?”
Sailor Joe went on, “She couldn’t get to sign with no theater, and at last she left us to go to some beach with a family as a governess.”
Nancy was wildly elated at this clue. “When Was this?” she asked.
“Oh, that was maybe ten—no, not that long. Let me see now. I remember I brought her back a souvenir and she was gone when I docked. What did I bring her? You’d never guess. A little monkey! I got it from a Portuguese—down in Brazil. I’d made a voyage to Rio in—Why, I remember now. It was just eight years ago next spring that Miss Drew left us.”
Eight years ago! Nancy’s heart sank.
“Do you remember the name of the family she went with?” she asked.
Sailor Joe pursed his lips and frowned. Presently he said, “English folks, I think. Name of Hilt something, or was it Washington? You know what? I gave that monkey to a man in exchange for a pair of boots.”
As the old man burst into laughter again, Nancy felt more encouraged than ever, now that she had found another clue. Her thoughts were interrupted by an exclamation from Joe.
“Ahoy! Here comes the missus now. I know her step on the quarterdeck.”
He jumped to his feet and rushed to open the door for Mrs. Skeets. Her arms were loaded with bundles.
“Brisket corned beef is what you’ll get for supper because it’s the cheapest cut in the market,” the woman announced.
“Salt horse again!” exclaimed her husband. “Well, never mind. We got company.”
Mrs. Skeets walked into the living room and saw Nancy. “Humph! It’s you, is it!” She sniffed.
Without another word she passed through to the rear of the house and it was some minutes before the woman returned.
“Did you bring the money?” she asked.
“Hey, what’s all this palaverin’ about?” Joe demanded in annoyance.
“This is the young lady who’s responsible for the disappearance of the letter from your sister that had ten dollars in it. I went around to her house. I suppose you’ve got the money with you?”
Joe looked from his wife to Nancy in bewilderment. “But this young lady didn’t steal the money, did she?”
“I’m askin’ no questions,” Mrs. Skeets said stiffly. “All I want is our ten dollars.”
Nancy smiled at Sailor Joe. “I’m glad you don’t think I stole the money,” she said. “Of course I didn’t. A batch of letters was taken from our house, and your wife seems to think that a letter from your sister was among them.”
“Well, I ain’t goin’ to let you pay one cent,” Joe roared. “Not even a stevedore would agree to that.”
“Nevertheless I made a bargain with your wife,” Nancy told him. “I said I would give her the ten dollars in exchange for some information about Nancy Smith Drew.”
“You see?” Mrs. Skeets said loftily. “Well, a bargain’s a bargain. Let me see the ten dollars and then I’ll talk.”
Nancy took the money from her purse and held it up. She told the woman of the conversation that she had had with her husband. “I understand that Nancy Smith Drew was engaged as a governess by some English people several years ago.”
“That’s right, but Joe told you too much.
’Course this was a long time ago and I don’t think it’ll do you much good tryin’ to find Nancy Smith Drew there. The name of the people was Wilson and they was stayin’ at the Breakers Hotel somewhere on Cape Cod.”
Nancy turned over the ten-dollar bill and started for the door. “Thank you both for the information. I shall try hard to find this other Nancy Drew. Mrs. Skeets, ask your husband to tell you about her inheritance.”
As soon as Nancy reached home, she consulted the long-distance operator in order to dial the Breakers Hotel on Cape Cod. Finally she was given the number and put in the call. The man who answered said the place was closed for the winter. He was only the caretaker.
“I’m trying to locate people named Wilson who perhaps spend the summers there,” Nancy said. “Could you give me their winter address?”
“No,” the man replied. “I don’t know the names of the summer guests and all the hotel’s books are locked up. Maybe if you call next summer you can find out.”
Nancy put down the phone and stared into space. Once more she had run into a stone wall. How should she proceed now?
As she sat lost in thought, the phone rang. She picked up the instrument and said, “Hello.”
“Hi, Nancy!”
“Ned!”
“How’s everything?” Ned Nickerson asked.
“You mean about the weekend? Just fine. Bess and George and I are driving up on Friday. We’ll come right to Omega Chi Epsilon House. Okay?”
“That’s what I was going to ask you to do. You girls will be staying here.”
“Ned,” Nancy said, “I’m busy solving two new mysteries.”
She went on to give him a detailed account of Edgar Nixon, the stolen mail, and finally the mysterious letter which had come from England for Nancy Smith Drew.
At the end she laughed and said, “Of course I expect your help.”
It was Ned’s turn to chuckle. “I might be able to help you sooner than you think. You know there’s to be a play Friday night—one of Shakespeare’s. The dramatic society engaged a coach to come out from New York especially for it. She’s a woman—and her name is N. Smith Drew!”
CHAPTER VII
The Wrecked Car
“OH, Ned, do you mean it?” Nancy exclaimed. “Will you find out if the coach’s first name is Nancy?”
He promised to do this and then added, “You’ll be able to meet her Friday night. If she is Nancy Smith Drew, I won’t tell her about the inheritance. I’ll leave that for you.”
Ned said he would call Nancy back as soon as he found out. “I won’t leave the house until you do!” she told him.
It was an hour before Ned called back. “I didn’t learn much,” he reported. “Miss Drew was suddenly called away and she won’t return until just before the show.”
Nancy was disappointed but knew she must be patient. After all this was Wednesday. Friday evening was not too far away.
Ned changed the subject. With laughter in his voice, he said, “Who do you think is temporary coach? Burt Eddleton!”
Nancy giggled. George Fayne’s date hardly seemed like the type to be coaching a Shakespearcan play. He was a blond, husky football player who was full of fun.
“I can’t wait,” Nancy said. “Does Burt have a secret aspiration for becoming an actor after college?”
Ned laughed. “I doubt it.”
The couple talked a few minutes longer, then they said good-by. Nancy’s thoughts turned back to her visit at the
Skeets’s home and the information she had received.
Suddenly she told herself, “Maybe if N. Smith Drew, the coach, is Nancy Smith Drew from England, she went to see the Wilsons where she used to work as governess. If I could only find them!”
Nancy went upstairs. Hannah Gruen was still hemming the dance dress. Often when the girl sleuth was puzzled, she talked over the situation with the understanding housekeeper. Now she told her of the latest report from Ned Nickerson.
“I wish I knew where to find the Wilsons,” Nancy said. “Have you any hunches?”
“If they summer in Cape Cod, possibly they live in the Boston area,” was Mrs. Gruen’s first guess.
“Yes,” Nancy said slowly. “But lots of people from other places go there too. What would be your second choice?”
“How about Springfield, Massachusetts?”
After a ten-minute conversation between them, Nancy came up with an idea which Mrs. Gruen thought was very plausible. Nancy Smith Drew had been in New York studying for the stage. If the N. Smith Drew at Emerson was the same person, she had no doubt succeeded in finding a place in the theatrical world—at least as a coach. There was a good possibility that the Wilsons, for whom she went to work as a governess, lived in New York City.
“I put a New York City phone book in your father’s study,” Mrs. Gruen told Nancy. “But I’ll bet there are hundreds of people named Wilson in it.”
Nancy hurried off. One look at all the Wilsons in New York City would have discouraged a less determined person. She took a pencil from her father’s desk and began to check likely addresses.
She told herself that if the Wilsons could afford a governess, they were probably well-to-do. This meant they would live in one of the nice areas of the city. Consequently Nancy eliminated all the business and professional addresses. Her list of likely candidates turned out to be long, but she decided to start telephoning each one.
“Our phone bill will be tremendous,” she told herself as call after call was made with no success.
Half an hour later Nancy heaved a sigh. Should she go on? Many things might have happened to the Wilsons she was trying to locate. They could have died or moved away.
“But I mustn’t give up,” Nancy told herself, and began to dial another number.
When a woman answered, Nancy said, “Is this Mrs. Wilson?”
“Yes.”
“I’m making a long-distance call to you to ask a question. Did you ever employ a governess named Nancy Smith Drew?”
Nancy held her breath as she waited for the answer. “Who is calling?” the woman asked.
“Believe it or not, my name is also Nancy Drew. By chance I heard of Nancy Smith Drew and I’m trying to locate her. I received a letter by mistake which belongs to her.”
There was a pause, then Mrs. Wilson said, “This is a great coincidence. Yes, a Miss Nancy Smith Drew worked for us a few years ago. She’s a very lovely person and an excellent actress. Unfortunately I do not know where she is right now. Once in a while she sends us a postcard or a Christmas message. As a matter of fact, it has been almost a year since her last note, in which she said she was moving but did not give her future address.”
Nancy was disappointed that the actress did not visit the Wilsons, but said, “I’m so thrilled to have located someone at last who knows Miss Drew. I must tell you what was in her letter. She has a large inheritance waiting for her in England.”
“How exciting!” Mrs. Wilson exclaimed. “I’m so glad for her.”
She and Nancy chatted for a few more minutes, then the woman said, “I’m sure I’ll hear from Miss Drew at Christmastime. I’ll tell her to get in touch with you at once. Where can she reach you?”
Nancy gave her address and telephone number and thanked Mrs. Wilson for her help. As soon as the conversation ended, Nancy went back to Hannah Gruen and told her the good news.
“Now I have two good leads. If the coach at Emerson is not Nancy Smith Drew, then by Christmastime we should hear from the right one.”
Mrs. Gruen smiled. “I can see why you’re a good detective,” she remarked. “If you don’t find hidden gold under one stone, you turn up another.”
The housekeeper suggested that they take time out for lunch. After eating, the two returned to Nancy’s bedroom to see if the evening dress was all right. Nancy kicked off her sports shoes, removed her skirt and sweater, then stepped into the dance dress. Hannah zipped it up.
Just then the phone rang and Nancy went into her father’s study to answer it. Chief McGinnis was calling.
“I thought you’d be interested to hear, Nancy, that we found the beat-up car with the license number TJ12796.”
“You did?” Nancy exclaimed. “Where? And did you find Edgar Nixon too?”
“No, unfortunately.” The officer explained that the car had been abandoned and was a complete wreck.
“We came across it on that road where you saw the man drive across the bridge,” McGinnis added. “A little way beyond there was a sharp curve and I guess he was going too fast and didn’t make it. But he evidently wasn’t hurt much because he wasn’t around and we’ve had no report from the hospital or any doctors about a person who needed attention.”
“The car really did belong to Edgar Nixon?” Nancy asked.
“We don’t know,” McGinnis replied. “It was registered under another name with a phony address. Maybe the car was Nixon’s, maybe a friend’s.”
“Or Edgar could be using aliases,” Nancy thought.
The chief said if he had any further report he would telephone Nancy. “We’re still looking for a man who wears a camel’s-hair coat and hat, but we suspect that by this time he may have changed to something different.”
“Perhaps,” said Nancy. “But if he had a beat-up car and is demanding money from his brother Ira, I’d say he isn’t very well off. Men’s winter overcoats are expensive and I wonder if he could afford two of them.”
Chief McGinnis laughed. “I admire the way your mind works, Nancy. What you just said is very true.” He chuckled. “I guess we’ll keep on looking for a man in a camel’s-hair overcoat and hat.”
As Nancy started back to her room so that Hannah Gruen could look at the dress, the front doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Nancy called.
As she walked toward the stairway, Nancy realized that in her stocking feet the dress was pretty long. Just as she reached the top step, Nancy stepped on the front of the gown.
She heard a loud rip and gasped. At the same moment, she lost her balance and pitched forward!
CHAPTER VIII
Disheartening Request
As Nancy pitched forward she made a wild grab for the banister of the stairway. Though she swung around and almost lost her grip, Nancy managed to keep from falling.
“How stupid of me!” she chided herself, and went on down the stairway.
Nancy looked at the big rip in her lovely dress. Could it be mended without showing? “Oh, I hope Hannah can do something with it!”
She finally reached the bottom step and went on to the front door. When Nancy opened it, she was greeted by a grinning little boy.
“Hello,” said Tommy Johnson.
“Hi, Tommy!” Nancy replied. “What are you holding behind your back?” she asked.
“A surprise,” he said.
“For me?”
“Maybe. You know you promised me a’tective badge for helping you.”
“So I did,” said Nancy. “Come in, Tommy. I’ll get it for you right away.”
Nancy hurried off to the dining room where there was a closet that held all sorts of knickknacks. Among them was a toy detective badge which someone had given her at a party for a joke. She carried it to Tommy, who took it but still kept one hand behind his back.
“Do you like it?” Nancy asked.
“Sure I do. Would you put it on me, Nancy? After that, I’ll show you what’s in my other hand.”
She pinned the badge onto his heavy sport
s jacket, then asked, “Have you brought me something exciting?”
“It’s—what you say a clue,” Tommy replied stoutly.
From behind his back he took out a man’s rather worn shoe. Tommy explained that his little friend Billy down the street had picked it up.
“He saw it fall out of the yellow-coat man’s car trunk,” the little boy explained. “He just told me about it. I thought you might want the shoe, so I promised him some candy if he gave it to me. Do you have some candy?”
Nancy laughed and patted Tommy on the head. “Indeed I have and you shall have some as well as Billy. This is good detective work, Tommy. Keep it up and maybe someday you’ll be a police chief.”
“Oh boy, that would be something!” Tommy replied.
Nancy went to get two small jars of hard candy. She called them her emergency treats for just such occasions.
When she returned, Tommy’s eyes expanded. “You mean I can have one whole jar, and Billy can have the other?”
Nancy nodded. “I think you both earned this reward.”
Tommy went off, declaring that he was going to hunt for more clues to the yellow-coat man.
“I hope you don’t catch him too soon,” he called over his shoulder and Nancy giggled.
After she had closed the door, Nancy looked at the shoe thoroughly. She could see no identification of any sort. “But probably the police can find something,” she thought. “I’ll call Chief McGinnis and see what he has to say.”
Fortunately he was in his office. “I’d say it’s an excellent clue,” he told her. “But don’t bother to come down here now. Tomorrow will do.”
Then Nancy climbed the stairs and showed Hannah the rip in her dress. The housekeeper said she was glad Nancy had not been hurt. She looked at the tear for some time.
“You really made a good job of this while you were at it,” she commented. “Well, take the dress off and I’ll see what I can do with it.”