“I’d like to drive on to Peter Putnam’s place,” Nancy suggested. “Okay with you girls?”
“I’m curious to see his house,” George answered.
Half an hour’s drive brought the trio within the general vicinity of the Putnam farm. Upon inquiry at a gasoline station, they were told to follow a winding, rutty lane. The property was located nearly a mile from the main highway and consisted of a few acres of cleared land completely surrounded by dense woods.
“This must be the place,” Nancy commented, stopping the car near a strange structure, which resembled neither a house nor a barn.
The queer, tumble-down building had originally been painted brick red, but now appeared to be washed-out pink. A porch had been built at the front, and large windows were cut into the walls at uneven angles. An old silo, long since useless, adjoined the east side of the structure, while the west side was supported by a massive stone chimney.
“Did you ever see such a crazy-looking house?” Bess giggled. “I wish I had a camera with me.”
As the girls alighted from the car, a stout, short man in black corduroy trousers, a sleeveless leather jacket, and a misshapen, dirty felt hat walked from the building.
He removed a brier pipe from the corner of his mouth and demanded gruffly, “Yes? What is it? I warn you before you say a word that I won’t buy anything.”
“We have nothing to sell, Mr. Putnam.” Nancy smiled, but added shrewdly, “We might be willing to make a purchase.”
“Eggs, or a chicken?”
Nancy shook her head. “I’d like to discuss a business matter with you. May I come in?”
“All right,” Peter Putnam consented grudgingly, “but the place ain’t fixed up much.”
“George and I will wait outside,” Bess said hastily.
Nancy followed the farmer into the house and tried not to stare as she noticed how dirty it was. The huge rooms were nearly bare of furniture. An old-fashioned cooking stove, a kitchen table, and a sagging cot were the main pieces. Peter Putnam drew up a crate, offering it to Nancy in lieu of a chair.
“What do you want to buy?” he asked eagerly.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have expressed it in just those words,” Nancy countered. “I’m searching for some papers that disappeared from an old house owned by Mrs. Anita Allison. I’m willing to pay you for recovering the documents.”
Putman eyed the girl cunningly; then he replied evasively, “Now what should I know about any such papers? Peter Putnam tends to his own business.”
Nancy nodded. “You were the former caretaker at the Allison property. I thought you might be able to help me. As I said before, I’m willing to pay you to get them or tell me where they are.”
“No doubt old Jasper Batt stole ’em!”
“I don’t think so.”
“How much are you willing to pay me?” Putnam asked cannily. “Mind, I’m not saying I could get ’em back for you.”
“How about twenty-five dollars?” Nancy offered.
As she had anticipated, the sum sounded large to the miserly farmer. His face twisted into a grimace as he tried to decide whether or not to acknowledge that the papers were in his possession.
“Well, if I learn anything about the documents, I’ll let you know,” he said after a long pause.
Nancy had no intention of giving up so easily, but before she could think of a suitable response the two were startled to hear the angry barking of a dog in the yard. At the same instant, Bess uttered a terrified scream.
Nancy rushed to the window. An ugly white and brown mongrel had cornered Bess near the house and with menacing snarls threatened to attack her.
“Call off your dog,” Nancy cried to Putnam, “before he bites my friend!”
Seizing a whip from a hook on the wall, the farmer ran out the door. Nancy attempted to follow, but in her hurry she tipped over an old coffeepot that stood on a sagging shelf near the window. It clattered to the floor and the lid fell back to reveal a white object hidden inside.
Bending down, Nancy picked up the coffeepot. She removed a long bulky envelope from it.
“What’s this?” she wondered.
Had she made an important discovery? With trembling fingers she opened the envelope. Inside was another marked “Property of Anita Allison.”
“These must be the stolen Allison papers!” Nancy thought, quietly thrusting the envelope inside her jacket. Hastily she left the house.
“These must be the stolen papers!” Nancy thought.
In the meantime Putnam had driven away the hound, permitting Bess to escape to the car. Nancy and George joined her.
“We must get away from here at once,” Nancy said. “If Putnam discovers I’ve taken the papers we want he’ll try to stop us!”
“The papers stolen from Jasper Batt?” Bess questioned.
Nancy nodded, triumphantly tapping her jacket.
“I have the documents here. Let’s hurry to a secluded spot where we can find out what they say.”
CHAPTER XIV
Telltale Document
SEVERAL miles farther down the road, Nancy parked beneath an old oak tree. She opened the sheaf of documents and studied them eagerly.
“Don’t keep them a secret!” Bess protested. “Did you get the right papers?”
“I’m sure I did. Some of these appear to be written in an Indian language, but the rest are in English.”
“Is Rishi’s name mentioned?” George asked, peering over Nancy’s shoulder.
“I haven’t seen it yet,” she replied, then added quickly, “Yes, here it is!”
Nancy instantly grew serious. She spread out the English document so that her friends could read it, too.
“I can’t make a thing of it,” Bess complained. “The writing is too cramped.”
“It says here that Rishi is the direct heir of a maharaja of an Indian province called—oh, dear, I can’t even start to pronounce the name of the place!”
“Don’t try,” George said. “Just give us the important details.”
“As a baby, Rishi was abducted from his parents.”
“Why was he taken away, and by whom?” George asked, trying to read the paper herself.
Nancy studied the writing for several minutes. “Girls, wait until you hear this! Rishi was deprived of his inheritance through the work of Anita Allison!”
“Mrs. Allison!” George exclaimed incredulously. “But if these papers belong to her, why didn’t she destroy such incriminating evidence?”
“I think I can answer that,” Nancy said. “According to this evidence, Rai was mixed up in the kidnapping and held these papers as a threat over Mrs. Allison. She in turn paid him blackmail money to keep him quiet but not enough to make the deal look suspicious. Finally, though, he sold them to her. For some reason he gave them to Batt to deliver. Before the caretaker was able to do so they were stolen by Peter Putnam. Naturally, if Mrs. Allison had received the documents she would have destroyed them immediately.”
“But how did the woman become involved in such a disgraceful affair?” Bess mused.
“One guess is as good as another,” Nancy said. “But I’d judge it was through her interest in mysticism. Perhaps she was under a spell and duped into it. At any rate, whatever her original motive may have been, she plotted to steal the estate of Rishi’s parents and use part of the money to make lama Togara governor of the province. In return for this, she received as a reward a priceless treasure belonging to Rishi’s family. As I said before, this paper also reveals that Mrs. Allison, working with Rai, kidnapped Rishi. Everyone was led to believe that the infant Rishi had been devoured by a tiger.”
“How dreadful!” Bess exclaimed.
“It sounds fantastic,” George declared.
“I imagine,” Nancy went on, “that Mrs. Allison kept the bulk of the loot but gave Rai the ivory charm. And just think! We helped her remove the stolen treasure from the secret tunnel!”
“Rai must be stupid to have accept
ed such an arrangement,” George remarked. “I should think he would have protested.”
“He is no match for Mrs. Allison, that’s certain,” Nancy replied.
“But why is the trinket so highly prized?” George asked.
“This document explains that the charm belonged to Rishi’s grandmother. It was one of the most cherished pieces in the family and was believed to bring luck and health to the wearer.”
“Nancy, harm may come to you as well as Rishi before we can find the boy,” Bess said.
“Yes,” George agreed. “Rai and Mrs. Allison will be terrified when they learn you found this document and took it.”
Bess added, “Rishi’s life may no longer be safe.”
The girls rode off and were soon approaching the Allison property. Bess called attention to an oncoming car, which had turned into the side road leading to the burned house.
“Few people ever drive in there,” Nancy said thoughtfully. “Do you suppose Mrs. Allison was in the car?”
“I couldn’t tell from so far away,” Bess replied.
“Now that I know she’s involved in the plot against Rishi, I must locate her,” Nancy continued. “It will take only a minute to stop and see who this person is.”
Presently she drew up beside a sedan that had been parked near the burned house. The girls walked rapidly along the overgrown path until they came to the familiar clearing. Two men were talking with Jasper Batt.
“I’ve never seen either of them before,” Nancy commented. “I wonder why they’re here?”
Keeping out of sight, the girls moved forward quietly until they could catch snatches of the conversation. The men revealed that they were agents of the Reliance Insurance Company, sent by the local office to investigate the cause of the recent fire.
“Mrs. Allison is eager to have the claim settled as soon as possible,” the girls heard Jasper Batt say.
“I can well understand that,” one of the agents replied. “Unfortunately for Mrs. Allison the claim will not be settled, and she may consider herself fortunate if she avoids prosecution.”
“What do you mean by that?” Batt demanded. “What has she done?”
The girls stepped closer so they would not miss a word.
“Our investigation discloses that this house did not catch fire accidentally,” the other investigator went on. “It was deliberately burned.”
“You can’t prove it!”
“Yes, Mr. Batt, our evidence will stand up in any court.”
“You can’t show that Mrs. Allison or anyone connected with her set fire to the house. It was probably done by a prowler.”
“We are not through with the case,” the insurance man replied grimly. “By the way, Mr. Batt, we have come here today to ask you a few questions. Where were you at the time the fire started?”
“Look here!” the watchman cried furiously. “You can’t hang this thing on me. I don’t know anything about it. I told you my idea of the fire—the house was burned by a prowler.”
At that moment Jasper Batt glanced up and saw Nancy and her friends. His ruddy face twisted into an ugly expression.
“Question those girls if you want to know who started the fire!” he exclaimed. “They are always snooping around this place. I suspect they were the ones who struck me over the head and stole my papers!”
At mention of the word papers, Nancy glanced uneasily at her companions. She knew that if the lost documents were found on her, explanations would be hard to make! Not showing her fright, however, she walked boldly forward to speak with the insurance agents.
“Mr. Batt is not telling the truth,” she said. “My friends and I have no knowledge of how the fire started. The day before the house was destroyed, we found Mr. Batt unconscious inside a tunnel. He told us then that he’d been struck over the head by an assailant who took his papers.”
“That’s true,” Bess added. “Later, Mr. Batt began to accuse everyone of stealing the documents.”
“Incidentally,” Nancy went on, “he mentioned an old enemy—a former caretaker at this house named Peter Putnam. The two, I’m told, were bitter rivals, and there was some bad feeling between them because Putnam was discharged by Mrs. Allison.”
“It’s a trumped up story!” Batt cried.
The two insurance men had been impressed by Nancy’s straightforward manner.
“What is your name, miss?” one of the agents inquired.
“Nancy Drew. You may have heard of my father—Carson Drew.”
“We certainly have! If you’re his daughter there’s no need for explanations.”
“Then we’ll return home.” Nancy smiled.
The agent said, “We may need you later to offer evidence in the case. If so, we’ll call you at your home.”
“Thank you,” Nancy replied. Then the girls hurried off.
“You certainly walked out of that neatly,” Bess remarked, when the girls were on their way to River Heights. “I was afraid the missing papers might be discovered in your possession!”
“Jasper Batt is too stupid to think of such a possibility,” George remarked.
After Nancy had taken George and Bess to their homes, she drove to her father’s office. When she reported the day’s adventures, he was deeply impressed by the information contained in the documents she spread on his desk. The lawyer suggested that she show them to Professor Stackpole.
“I’ll phone now for an appointment,” Nancy replied.
After a brief pause she was connected with his residence, only to be informed that the man had left the city for a couple of days.
“How disappointing!” Nancy commented as she carefully placed the documents in her father’s safe. “Now I must wait until he returns.”
“In the meantime we’ll make every effort to locate Rishi,” Mr. Drew said. “Unless we find him again, your papers will not be of much value.”
Both Nancy and her father were hopeful about tracing Rishi with little difficulty. Their first move was to communicate with the Bengleton Wild-Animal Show. They were disappointed to learn that the local police had obtained no clues either to Rishi or to Rai.
Given the possibility that the animal trainer had sought work with another outfit, they canvassed the state. No one had heard of Rai.
“The search will prove more difficult than I had anticipated,” Mr. Drew admitted. “No doubt Rai suspects we may try to track him down and is hiding.”
When Professor Stackpole returned from his trip, Nancy lost no time in calling at his home. After relating the details of Rishi’s disappearance, she placed the important documents in the tutor’s hands. He pored over them for nearly an hour.
“This is indeed amazing,” he declared. “Amaz ing! Yet I cannot say that I am greatly surprised. From the first time I met Rishi he impressed me as a boy of great refinement and unusual ability.”
“Then you believe the documents are genuine?” Nancy asked.
“Yes, I do not question them. In securing these papers, Nancy, you have accomplished a remarkable bit of detective work.”
“I’m sure Mrs. Allison is responsible for lama Togara’s becoming the governor,” she said. “However, I want to get an admission direct from Mrs. Allison.”
“But will that be possible?”
“I have a plan, Dr. Stackpole. Will you help me?”
“I’ll do anything in my power to help. I’ve become very fond of Rishi.”
“Then this is my scheme. By some ruse, please invite Mrs. Allison here to your home. You might say you wish to consult her about Indian mysticism. She’ll feel flattered at the request and accept, I’m sure.”
“And if she does accept?”
“Try to get her to admit that she helped to place Togara in power.”
“But I haven’t your ability as a detective.”
“In this case you’ll succeed where I could fail. Mrs. Allison would never talk frankly with me. She will be flattered by your interest.”
The scholarly man nodde
d thoughtfully. “The plan might be worth trying,” he admitted.
Nancy was delighted and said, “With your permission I’ll eavesdrop on your conversation. If Mrs. Allison refuses to talk, then I’ll appear and confront her with the documents.”
“I’ll attempt to make the appointment immediately,” the professor promised.
“Thank you very much,” Nancy said, rising.
Two days elapsed before she received word from the tutor.
“At last I have contacted Mrs. Allison,” the professor reported. “I located her through a friend, Mrs. Winter, who happened to mention knowing her. Mrs. Allison has agreed to call at my home on Tuesday at three o’clock.”
“That’s great!” Nancy exclaimed. “I’ll arrive ahead of her.”
Nancy could hardly wait for Tuesday to arrive. In the meantime, however, she became busy getting ready for a weekend party at Ned Nickerson’s fraternity house in Emerson. Bess and George had been invited but could not go because they had promised to perform in a play for children.
Once Nancy wavered in her decision to attend. “I could be working on that mystery,” she thought.
But when Ned phoned and she hinted at such an idea, he promptly said, “Nancy, you must come, not only for my sake, but perhaps to let someone here help you with your mystery. I want you to meet a boy from India.”
There was no longer any doubt left in her mind about going.
CHAPTER XV
Stolen!
By Friday Nancy’s enthusiasm for the weekend at Emerson rose to a high pitch. She eagerly looked forward to meeting the student from India.
When Nancy arrived in her car at the fraternity house, twenty girls were already there. After meeting Mrs. Howard, a pleasant, motherly woman who was the housekeeper, she was introduced to her roommate. Helen Heyman was a shy, timid girl. She confessed that she had never attended such a party.
“I’m so scared I’ll do something wrong.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll love it,” Nancy assured her.
The following day the girls were rushed from one activity to another. Nancy met so many new students that she could not remember the names of half of them.