Chapter 10 Nancy's Mysterious Letter by Carolyn Keene
Search for a Bride
“It’s starting to snow,” Bess remarked as a few flakes hit the windshield of Nancy’s convertible.
Before leaving home, she had put the top up because the day was cloudy and raw, with a hint of stormy weather.
Bess went on, “Oh, I hope it won’t be bad. Nancy, does this car have snow tires?”
Before Nancy could reply, George spoke up. “Bess, you have so little faith in people. Of course Nancy would have snow tires and good ones at that.”
Her cousin defended herself quickly. “After working with Nancy on all the mysteries she’s asked us to help her solve, you know even the smartest people can be forgetful sometimes!”
Nancy laughed. “You girls have driven with me in snowstorms many times. Nevertheless I promise to be careful. Oh, it’s getting to be worse fast.”
Due to the storm, it took longer to get to Ridgefield than Nancy had hoped, but she was buoyed up by an exciting thought. Soon she would either come face to face with Edgar Nixon or find out whether or not he was married.
When the girls arrived on the outskirts of Ridgefield, the snow was deep. Nancy asked directions to Harrison Street. She found it blocked off by a snow removal machine which had stalled.
Nancy turned down a hill and parked near the foot of it. The three girls climbed back up, turned right on Harrison Street, and trudged along the unshoveled sidewalk.
Finally they came to Mrs. Hemmer’s guesthouse. By this time the girls were covered with snow. Before stepping onto the porch, they brushed off what snow they could and stamped their boots.
Nancy rang the bell. In a minute it was answered by a plain-looking woman in her sixties. She looked surprised to see the three callers.
“What can I do for you?” she asked. “You lost or just cold?”
The girls smiled and Nancy replied, “We’re all right. We had to park on the next street so we got covered with snow walking up here. Is Mr. Edgar Nixon at home?”
“Why—uh—no,” Mrs. Hemmer answered. “What do you want to see him about?”
“When will he be back?” Nancy replied, deliberately evading the woman’s question. Mrs. Hemmer surveyed her callers from head to toe before saying, “You look like nice honest young ladies. The answer is that Edgar Nixon moved out this morning.”
“Oh!” the three girls chorused.
“Did you know ahead of time he was going?” Nancy queried.
“No, I didn’t,” the woman said. “He never hinted at such a thing. As a matter of fact, he seemed quite happy here. But then, I suppose when you inherit money you want to move to better quarters.”
The girls tried not to show their excitement at this statement. Nancy said nonchalantly, “So Edgar inherited some money?”
Mrs. Hemmer became more talkative. “It’s kind of cold for me standin’ here. Won’t you come inside?”
Nancy and her friends followed the woman. She led them to her living room, which was cheerful despite the dull day.
“Mr. Nixon didn’t say where the money was coming from,” Mrs. Hemmer went on, “but he told me it was a big sum and now he was going to change his type of work.”
“What sort of work did he do?” George asked.
“That I don’t know,” the woman replied. “Mr. Nixon was kind of mysterious about his affairs, but I suspect he was in some mail-order business. He received lots of letters.”
Nancy could see her excellent clue fast petering out. No doubt Edgar would have notified the post office already of his change of address. Finally Nancy asked the question that was uppermost in her mind.
“Did Edgar Nixon say he was going to be married, Mrs. Hemmer?”
“Not this morning he didn’t,” the woman said. “But he mentioned it yesterday.”
“I suppose he was pretty excited about it,” Nancy remarked, trying hard not to show her rising excitement. “Who’s the young lady?”
Mrs. Hemmer said he had not mentioned her name. “But I suppose she was the one who came here this morning.”
The three girls looked at one another. Before they had a chance to ask anything about her, Mrs. Hemmer went on, “To tell you the truth, I don’t think it was very polite of Mr. Nixon not to introduce her to me. I went to the door and let her in. He came rushing down the stairs with his two suitcases and said, ‘Let’s go!’ ”
Nancy heaved a sigh, but tried not to reveal her great disappointment. “I’m sure she’s the person we’re trying to find. Too bad you didn’t learn her name. Can you tell us anything about her?”
“I didn’t pay particular attention,” Mrs. Hemmer answered. “She was tall and all bundled up in fur. I did notice, though, that she spoke with a British accent.”
Now there was no doubt in Nancy’s mind that the person who had come to the house was Nancy Smith Drew. Her heart sank as she thought that by this time she and Edgar Nixon might be husband and wife.
“We must go,” Nancy said. “Thank you for all the time you’ve given us.” She smiled. “Don’t be surprised if we come back and call on you again.”
“Glad to see you any time,” the woman told her.
As the girls trudged up the snowy street, Bess said, “Do you plan to do any more sleuthing in Ridgefield?”
“I’m going to the Town Hall and see if Edgar Nixon took out a marriage license,” Nancy told her.
Through inquiries she learned that the building was not far away, so the girls decided to walk there. They were told that no marriage license had been issued to the couple.
“They could have been married almost any place,” Bess spoke up. “Trying to get that information would be like hunting for a needle in a haystack.”
Nancy turned back to the clerk and said, “Do you have a justice of the peace in this town?”
“Yes we do. He has an office on the second floor.”
Nancy thanked the clerk and motioned for the girls to follow her up the stairs. The justice of the peace was a short, rotund man with a jolly look. He seemed amused by Nancy’s inquiry. She guessed that he was thinking, “This girl’s disappointed about losing her fiancé and is trying to find out about his elopement with someone else!”
“I haven’t married anybody for a month,” the justice of the peace said, “and never anyone named Edgar Nixon or Nancy Drew.”
He suggested that one of the clergymen in town might have performed the ceremony. “Suppose I give you a list,” he said, “and you can go around and find out for yourself.”
He opened a drawer and pulled out a pad. In a few moments he had written out a rather long list.
“I appreciate this,” Nancy said. “Because of the storm I don’t think I’ll try visiting all these people.”
The justice of the peace told her there was a pay telephone booth in the main lobby of the building. “You’ll keep drier if you try calling up, instead of going out in the snow.”
Nancy agreed, thanked the man for his help, and went downstairs with the girls. They pooled their coins and took turns dialing the names on the list. Fortunately all the men were at home, but said that they had not performed any marriage ceremony for a couple of weeks. Furthermore, they had had no requests for any during the next week.
When Nancy completed the last call, Bess remarked, “Nancy, you look pretty downcast. This trip in the snow is all for nothing.”
George tried to cheer up her friend. “I have a suggestion. Why don’t we go back to Mrs. Hemmer’s and ask if she would mind our looking for clues in Edgar’s room?”
Nancy thought it was an excellent idea and once more the girls plowed through the snowy streets to the guesthouse.
“You’re back?” the woman remarked. “Wouldn’t your car start?”
“To tell the truth, I haven’t tried it,” Nancy answered. “Mrs. Hemmer, it’s very important that I locate Edgar Nixon as soon as possible. We girls thought possibly he left some clue to his whereabouts in his room.”
“I don’t mind you looking around one bit,” the woman said. “As a matter of fact, I’m very glad you came back. Several registered letters came in for Mr. Nixon right after you left. Out of force of habit I signed for them. After the mail carrier left, I realize that I didn’t know where to send the letters. Then I suddenly remembered something. Did you tell me before that your name is Nancy Drew and that you come from River Heights?”
“That’s right.”
“Did you ever hear of a man named Ira Nixon who lives there?”
Nancy smiled. “He’s our mail carrier. As a matter of fact he’s a brother of Edgar.”
“I know that,” Mrs. Hemmer said. “Maybe you could help me out with these letters. Some time ago Mr. Nixon said to me, ‘In case of an emergency, get in touch with my brother Ira in River Heights.’ ”
The three girls were watching Mrs. Hemmer intently. What would she reveal next?
The woman went on, “If you could just prove to me that you’re Nancy Drew from River Heights I’d give you these letters to take to his brother.”
Nancy showed her driver’s license, but said, “Suppose I give you Ira Nixon’s telephone number, you can dial it and tell him I’m here.”
The woman asked Nancy to make the call and she would talk with Ira Nixon. After a short delay Ira Nixon came on the line. Nancy identified herself, told where she was, and introduced Mrs. Hemmer.
“You take it now,” she said, handing the woman the phone.
Mrs. Hemmer told him the story and he verified the fact that Nancy was really Nancy Drew from River Heights and that he had known her since she was a little girl.
“Your brother Edgar has moved away from here,” she said. “He told me that in an emergency I should get in touch with you. I think these letters should be turned over to you. Shall I give them to Nancy Drew?”
“By all means,” the girls heard him reply. “Nancy Drew is one of the most reliable persons I’ve ever met and she’s trying to help me solve a mystery. Mrs. Hemmer,” he asked suddenly, “you never had any reason to think my brother isn’t perfectly honest?”
“Oh no,” the woman answered. “He always paid his rent on time and came and went without any trouble to me. Of course he never told me much about himself, but then it’s just as well not to have too much talk between a guesthouse owner and her roomers.”
The bundle of letters proved to be too big for Nancy’s purse or even coat pocket. Since it had stopped snowing, she decided it would be all right for her to carry them in her hand as far as the car.
Before leaving, the three girls searched Edgar’s room but found no clues to where he had gone. Finally they said good-by to Mrs. Hemmer and hurried down Harrison Street. When they reached the street on which the convertible was parked, Bess suggested it would be easier to walk down the hill in the middle of the street rather than on the sidewalk.
They had hardly started when a boy on a sled whizzed around the corner. The next second he skidded into Nancy.
The impact knocked her sprawling into the snow. The bundle of letters flew from her hand and scattered in every direction.