Chapter 11 Nancy's Mysterious Letter by Carolyn Keene
The Strange Messages
Bess and George rushed to Nancy’s aid. They helped her up and asked solicitously if she were hurt.
Nancy smiled ruefully. “Mostly my feelings,” she said with a wry smile. “My leg does hurt a little, though. I’d like to sit down.”
The girls assisted her to the porch of a house where the steps had been cleared of snow. Nancy sat down and rubbed the bruise on her leg.
Bess and George looked at each other. Nancy was very white and they kept asking her over and over again how she really felt and should they take her to a doctor.
“Oh no!” she replied. “I’ll be all right in a minute. You girls had better go pick up those letters. They’re getting soaked in the snow.”
As the cousins started for the street, several children on sleds came speeding down the hill. They ran over the letters, burying them deeper and mutilating them. Bess and George hurried to pick them up.
The girls returned to the porch and Nancy stared at the letters in dismay. Some of them were open, others were torn and two had the contents sticking out.
“Oh look!” George exclaimed. “This letter has money in it. Wow! Twenty-five dollars!”
She handed the envelope to Nancy, who immediately looked for a return address. There was none. “Maybe there’s one on the letter inside,” she suggested.
“I’m going to look and see,” Bess declared, and began to read the already-opened letter. In a moment a broad grin spread across her face. “Listen to this:
‘Dear Guide,
I am so excited at the thought that I am soon to meet the man of my dreams. I can hardly work. Please don’t keep me waiting.
Mildred’ ”
Now Bess’s amusement turned to a serious mood. “We might be all wrong about Nancy Smith Drew,” she said. “Maybe Edgar is going to marry this person Mildred.”
“Is there an address on the letter?” Nancy asked.
“No.”
George remarked, “What puzzles me is why twenty-five dollars is in the letter. Pretty soft, if Edgar can get twenty-five dollars out of his future bride!”
“Where was the letter mailed?” Nancy asked.
“Dorset.”
Bess looked at Nancy. “You think maybe Edgar went to Dorset to marry Mildred?”
Nancy smiled. “Perhaps. Are there any more open letters with money in them?”
George looked through the dirty, rumpled mail. “Yes, here’s another. And there’s twenty-five dollars in it!”
Nancy asked her to read the letter, saying, “I’m beginning to be suspicious of something. I’ll tell you in a minute.”
“ ‘Dear Guide:
I am so thrilled! It won’t be long before I’ll be in the arms of the man fate has sent me! I am counting the hours!
Martha’ ”
There was no return address on either the letter or the envelope.
“What is your suspicion, Nancy?” Bess asked. “That Edgar Nixon is a bigamist—or even a trigamist?”
“More likely,” George put in, “he promises, for sums of money, to marry a whole bunch of women, and when things get too hot, he just skips out. This time, with Nancy learning too much about him, he had to leave before he had a chance to pick up the last bunch of letters. I’ll bet there’s twenty-five dollars in every one of these!” “Shall we find out?” Bess asked eagerly.
Nancy shook her head. “To read an open or half-open letter is one thing. But to open the whole thing and snoop inside is illegal.”
“Nancy, you haven’t told us your theory yet,” George reminded her.
The girl detective laughed. She said teasingly, “I haven’t had a chance! I suspect that Edgar Nixon has been running a Lonely Hearts Club and gets money for promising to find a husband, or a wife, for the person who is foolish enough to put his or her trust in Edgar.”
George snorted. “Do you think the silly people believe they are going to get a mate for twenty-five dollars?”
“Oh no,” Nancy replied. “I would judge that the whole thing is done on an installment plan. These two letters which we have read are probably the last installment.”
“So that’s why Edgar had to skip out!” Bess suggested, and Nancy nodded.
“The scheme is positively revolting!” George exclaimed.
“And more than that,” Bess said, “it’s heart-breaking. A Lonely Hearts Club turned into a Hopeless Hearts Club.”
George had several uncomplimentary things to say about Edgar Nixon. Then suddenly she paused in the middle of a sentence. Her eyes flashed. “Do you suppose Nancy Smith Drew is one of Edgar’s victims?”
Bess said, “If she is, and he didn’t intend to marry her, why did Edgar let her come here?”
Nancy looked thoughtful. “I still think he intends to marry her. He knows about the inheritance, but she doesn’t, and he isn’t going to let her find out until after they’re married. Then, through some clever scheme, he plans to get the money away from her.”
“We mustn’t let him do that!” Bess cried.
George looked hard at her cousin. “And just how can we stop him? We don’t know where he is. Miss Drew came here and went away with him and—”
“And what else?” Bess asked her, a bit miffed by George’s gruffness.
Her cousin did not answer, but said, “Nancy, what do you intend to do with these letters? Are you still going to take them to Ira Nixon?”
Nancy shook her head. “I don’t think that would be wise. In the first place, the poor old man would probably collapse again. I’d hate to be responsible for that. If his brother is a swindler, I feel that the authorities should inform Ira, not me.”
The other girls agreed.
“I think we should go at once to the postmaster here and explain everything.”
“Will you tell him your suspicions about the Lonely Hearts Club?” Bess questioned.
“I think I will,” Nancy answered. “Even if I’m wrong, it won’t hurt for the post office to make an investigation. Men don’t just disappear without leaving any forwarding address unless they have something to hide.”
Nancy declared that she felt much better now. She got up and trudged down the hill with the girls to her car. She inquired from some children where the post office was and drove directly there. Unfortunately the building was closed.
“Now what?” George asked. “Don’t tell me we have to stay in this town all night!”
Bess grinned. “I’m sure Mrs. Hemmer would be glad to accommodate us in Edgar’s vacated room.”
The other girls laughed, then Nancy replied, “Since the letters were entrusted to my care, I’ll take them home and tomorrow morning take them to the River Heights post office.”
It was late by the time the girls reached River Heights. Nancy took her friends home, then started for her own house. She was eager to tell her father and Hannah Gruen the latest developments in the mystery.
Nancy was mulling over the case as she turned into the Drews’ driveway. One thing was a complete puzzle—the part about the American detective agency getting in touch with Malmsbury and Bates-Jones in London.
She put the car away and walked slowly toward the kitchen door. Just before she reached it, a startling idea came to her. Could Edgar Nixon, to throw suspicion from himself, have gone to a shady detective agency and said he knew where the missing Nancy Smith Drew was? He could have asked them to contact Malmsbury and Bates-Jones. Then his own unsavory schemes would never be suspected.