Chapter 5 Nancy's Mysterious Letter by Carolyn Keene
The Mysterious Gift
Though taken unawares, Nancy managed to dodge the woman’s blow. She grabbed the stranger’s arm and held it firm.
“What are you trying to do?” she asked. “What do you want?”
“What I want are my rights!” the woman shouted.
“Who are you?” Nancy asked. She was sure she had never seen the woman before.
“I am Mrs. Skeets, and now that you’ve heard it you’ll never forget it. And don’t tell me you’re not Nancy Drew, because I’ve seen you go running around town in that car of yours. I don’t approve of young girls having cars. There are too many accidents as it is.”
“Did you come here to lecture me about my driving?” Nancy asked the woman coldly.
“Certainly not. Anyway, I know it wouldn’t do no good. Girls today don’t mind what their elders think. They go flyin’ around as if they owned the earth.”
“Will you please get to the point,” Nancy interrupted her caller.
“Don’t be pert, miss,” Mrs. Skeets said. “I’ll tell you in my own good time why I came here.”
Nancy gritted her teeth. Was this woman unbalanced? She decided that perhaps if she did not answer, Mrs. Skeets would finally tell why she had come.
“Well, what you got to say about what you did?” the woman demanded.
Nancy heaved a sigh. “Mrs. Skeets, will you please tell me why you came here. I am not aware that I have ever met you or done anything to you.”
“Well, to begin with, I’m Mrs. Maud Skeets. I’m Sailor Joe Skeets’s wife, which is my bad luck. Never forgive him for forever sailin’ off to all corners of the world and leavin’ me to get along the best I can.”
The woman took a deep breath before going on. “Joe’s got a sister. She don’t look like him and she don’t act like him neither. One thing I must say, he ain’t stingy. But that sister of his—all the money in the world and her not turnin’ a finger, but the money just pourin’ in because her husband invented some sort of stuff that takes stains out of cloth. Well, she condescends to send me ten dollars a week if you please. And where was last week’s I ask you?” She stared hard at Nancy.
“I haven’t the least idea,” Nancy replied. “What makes you think I should know something about it?”
“Because my letter was in that bunch that was stolen from your house and you’re to blame!” Mrs. Skeets almost screamed.
Nancy was amazed. She told the woman that she certainly was not to blame for the mail theft. “I never saw any of the letters that were taken. Perhaps yours wasn’t among them.”
“The day it was supposed to come was Saturday and one thing I will say about Joe’s sister, she’s always on time. No, that letter with the money in it was stolen!”
“I’m terribly sorry,” said Nancy, “but as I said before I’m not to blame. Since there is nothing more to discuss I’ll bid you good-by.” She held the door open.
“Now see here, young lady, you aren’t goin’ to get rid of me that fast. You give me the ten dollars and I’ll go.”
Nancy’s reply was firm. “I am not giving you ten dollars.”
Mrs. Skeets tossed her head. “Uppity, eh?” she said. Then, seeing Bess, George, and Hannah Gruen who had come to the hall to see what the trouble was, she said sneeringly, “Reinforcements, eh? Well, that won’t do you no good. You’re just like all the other Nancy Drews.”
“What do you mean?” Nancy demanded. “Have you known many?”
“Have I known many of them? Thank goodness, no!” Mrs. Skeets said, flinging her hands into the air. “Just you and the other one, and you’re both cut out of the same cloth. Cheat people out of ten dollars and then pretend they’re fine ladies and don’t know nothin’ about it.”
Nancy asked Mrs. Skeets about the other Nancy Drew, but the woman refused to tell her anything.
“I’ll make a bargain with you,” she said. “You give me ten dollars and I’ll tell you.”
Nancy was wary that this might be a ruse of some kind and decided to try a few tactics of her own.
“If I change my mind, I’ll come to see you tomorrow,” she told Mrs. Skeets.
“Suits me.” The woman grinned. “I’ll bet you’ll be around to see me. My house is 22 Cottage Street. It’s not far from here, but it’s not a grand neighborhood like yours. We’re just plain folks over there.”
With this cutting remark, she turned and went outside.
“Boy is she ever a weirdo!” George exclaimed.
Further discussion was interrupted by the telephone. Hannah Gruen picked it up, and in a moment said, “It’s your father, Nancy, and he says it’s important.”
“I finally got an overseas call through to Mr. Bates-Jones,” Mr. Drew said. “Nancy, the inheritance is sizable. He wants you to solve the mystery of the missing Nancy Drew!”
The girl chuckled. “Wonderful! Nothing I’d like better. And, Dad, I have a clue.”
“What is it?”
She related the visit of the strange Mrs. Skeets, including the bargain to exchange information for the ten dollars. “Do you think I should do it?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then I’ll go there tomorrow morning.”
The following day, while Nancy was tidying up her room before leaving the house, Mrs. Gruen came in, holding a long evening dress over one arm.
“You haven’t forgotten you’re going to wear this Saturday evening, have you?” she teased.
“I’m afraid I had.”
The housekeeper reminded her that the dress had to be shortened. “You’d break your neck in it at this length,” she said. “Please put it on now and let me pin up the hem. Then I’ll sew it while you’re gone.”
Nancy took off her skirt and sweater and slipped on the pale-blue evening dress. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she realized something was missing. Nancy studied herself as Hannah pinned up the skirt and kept telling her to turn a little at a time.
Suddenly Nancy realized what the costume needed—the lovely pearl necklace Mr. Drew had given her on her last birthday.
“The clasp is loose,” she thought. “Before I go to Mrs. Skeets’s house, I’ll run down to the jeweler’s with the necklace and have it fixed.”
As soon as the housekeeper had finished pinning the hem, Nancy took off the dress. She put on her sports clothes once more, took the necklace from a drawer, and grabbed a coat.
“Wish me luck,” she said, kissing Mrs. Gruen good-by. “I hope to bring home lots of news.”
She drove directly to the center of town and parked. Mr. Whittier’s jewelry shop was a block away. Nancy hurried down the street and entered the store.
“Good morning, Mr. Whittier,” she said to the elderly man behind the counter. “I think the clasp on my pearl necklace needs tightening.”
She took it from her purse.
The jeweler looked at it closely. “It certainly does,” he said. “Are you in a hurry for it?”
Nancy told him she planned to take the necklace with her on Friday. “I’m going to Emerson for the weekend.”
“Then I’ll fix this right away.”
As Mr. Whittier went to a room at the rear of the shop, he called out, “You caught me at a good time. I’m not particularly busy now. Make yourself comfortable.”
While waiting, Nancy looked at the large assortment of rings, bracelets, pins, and other bits of jewelry in the display cases. How beautiful they all were!
Time passed quickly and soon the jeweler returned. He showed Nancy that the clasp worked perfectly now.
As he was wrapping it for her, Mr. Whittier said, “How did you like your beautiful new pin?”
“Pin?” Nancy repeated. “What pin?”
“The one that man got for you yesterday. He said he was going to give it to you right away.”
Nancy was puzzled. What man was going to give her a pin?