Chapter 12 Nancy's Mysterious Letter by Carolyn Keene
A Fresh Puzzle
Mr. Drew was waiting for Nancy in the kitchen and she thought she detected relief in his expression.
“Dad, were you worried about me?”
“I certainly was. The storm didn’t hit us very much, but I heard on the radio it was heavy over in Ridgefield.”
“It was, and this accounts for a few adventures I had,” she said.
Hannah Gruen, vigorously whipping potatoes in a pot, turned with questioning eyes. “Were you in an accident with the car? Did you get hurt?”
“Only a little accident, but not with the car. I have a few bruises on one leg where a boy on a sled ran into me. Don’t worry,” she added, as the housekeeper stopped her dinner preparations and came over to examine the injury.
“If it hadn’t been for the sled, the letters wouldn’t have opened and we wouldn’t have found the money in them nor known that Edgar Nixon is probably running a Lonely Hearts Club—”
Mr. Drew held up his hand to interrupt. “For Pete’s sake, Nancy,” he said, “please take off your heavy clothes and we’ll sit down at the table. Then you can tell your story from beginning to end. It sounds interesting.”
Mrs. Gruen had prepared a delicious roast beef dinner, which they all enjoyed. During the meal, Nancy told about her adventures. The others were amazed and agreed that no doubt her conclusions about Edgar Nixon were correct.
Mr. Drew approved the idea of the letters being taken to their local postal inspector first thing in the morning. “But you’ll have to tell Ira. Suppose you say how the letters got damaged and you thought the post office should have them.”
“All right, Dad. That should satisfy him. I certainly don’t want to hurt poor Ira at this time.”
Nancy asked her father if any further word had come from Mr. Bates-Jones in London. Her father shook his head.
“In a way,” Mr. Drew added, “I’m glad there is no news. Tomorrow you and Bess and George go to Emerson, don’t you?”
“Yes, Dad. I expect it will be an exciting weekend.”
“Well, I want you to enjoy it and not have the mystery on your mind. There is something in the evening paper that I think will interest you,” Mr. Drew added as they all rose from the table.
He went to get the newspaper and turned to the sports section. He pointed out a headline, which made Nancy’s heart skip a beat. It said:
EMERSON COUNTS ON NICKERSON TOE
The article went on to tell of Ned’s prowess at punting and kicking field goals. Nancy felt very proud to be his guest.
“It ought to be a great game,” Mr. Drew remarked. “Wish I could be there, but you’ll have to tell me all about it Monday.”
The lawyer went for his coat and said he was going out to bowl with some friends. After he had gone, Nancy started to help Hannah tidy the dining room and kitchen, but the housekeeper urged her to go upstairs and pack.
“There’s not much to do here,” she told Nancy. “You’ll have to get up early if you’re going to stop at the post office, and then pick up George and Bess. It’s a long drive to Emerson and you’ll want time to change your clothes before the play. It’s tomorrow night, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and I hope to meet Nancy Smith Drew face to face. You know, Hannah, it is just possible that Edgar Nixon may have gone to Emerson with her. Oh, I only hope that they won’t be married before they get there and I can try to prevent the wedding.”
Nancy had just started her packing when she heard the doorbell ring. In a few seconds she became aware that the housekeeper was arguing with someone. Then Hannah Gruen climbed the stairs and poked her head into the doorway of Nancy’s room.
“It’s that pest again,” she said with a sigh. “I told her to go away, because you were very busy, but she’s insistent and won’t budge until she has seen you.”
Nancy smiled. “You mean Mrs. Skeets?”
“Yes. What will I tell her?”
“I guess I’d better talk to her,” Nancy said. “You may never get rid of her if I don’t find out what she wants.”
Nancy walked down to the front hall where Mrs. Skeets was standing. The woman was well bundled up, but her stringy hair showed below her hat.
“I knew you’d see me,” she crowed as Nancy appeared.
“What can I do for you?” Nancy queried.
“As I told you once before, I don’t want nothin’ except what’s mine,” Mrs. Skeets said.
Nancy suspected the woman was going to ask for additional money and said quickly, “Don’t expect anything more from me.”
“Now, young lady,” Mrs. Skeets retorted, shaking a finger at Nancy, “don’t get uppity with me or you may regret it. I came here on an errand of good will, I want you to know. But if you don’t show proper respect for your elders—and what young folks do these days, I ask you—I’ll go away and you’ll never learn why I came.”
Nancy was amused by this tirade, but also curious to know what the errand of good will was.
“I’m listening.”
“Well, that’s good. Most o’ the girls today won’t listen to their elders. Nope, I’d say the chicks seem to think they can teach the old birds to fly.” Mrs. Skeets laughed loudly at her own joke. “As I’ve said more than once to Mrs. Brant next door, who has eight young uns, ‘Mrs. Brant, I said—’ ”
Nancy interrupted. “Please tell me why you really came here. I am very busy upstairs.”
Mrs. Skeets frowned in an annoyed way, then said, “Well, I came to tell you all the missin’ letters was mailed back to their owners.”
Nancy was so surprised she stepped backward. The idea of such a thing happening after all this time left her speechless for the moment.
“Ah-ha, I thought that would knock you over!” Mrs. Skeets exclaimed. “Now maybe you’ll listen to me.”
Nancy realized that the letters stolen from the Drews had not been returned. She said, “How do you know all the letters were mailed back to the people?”
“ ’Cause I went around and asked everybody in the neighborhood. It all started this way. We got a new mail carrier. This mornin’ he came to our door and handed me three letters. The first one I looked at was the electric bill, which was away too high. We’re folks for early sleepin’, and I never ran no eight dollars’ worth of electric last month and the company is goin’ to hear from me, you can bet.”
Nancy repressed a smile as Mrs. Skeets went on, “The next letter wasn’t a letter at all, but a posh card from an old neighbor of mine in New York, only she lives in Florida now.
“She bought a house down there several years ago. Looked good then but it’s fallin’ apart, and ain’t worth half what she paid for it. But she hasn’t any money, so she lives in it, and she says what the rich people find in Florida she can’t—”
“Oh, Mrs. Skeets, please,” Nancy cried in exasperation. “What has all this to do with your being here to see me?”
“I’m comin’ to that,” Mrs. Skeets said. “Just give me time. As I was sayin’—where was I now? See, you made me forget!
“Oh yes. The other letter, mind you, was from Joe’s sister. And I knew right well she wouldn’t write twice a week even if someone held her hand to guide the pen. And there was the ten dollars in the letter too, and she wouldn’t send me twenty dollars in one week any more’n she’d send me a million. So I got an idea and looked at the postmark. Sure enough, just as I suspected, it was stamped twice by the post office here!”
“This will make Ira Nixon very happy,” Nancy remarked.
The woman pulled ten dollars from her pocket. “I suppose I owe you an apology, but anyhow here’s your ten dollars.”
“Thank you very much,” said Nancy. “I’m relieved the whole matter is straightened out.”
She was glad Mrs. Skeets had not asked her whether the Drew mail had also been returned. It would only have led to another long speech.
The sailor’s wife put her hand on the doorknob, but before turning it, she looked straight at Nancy and with a smirk said, “I guess you’ve had your fun.”
“What do you mean?” Nancy demanded.
Mrs. Skeets gave a raucous laugh. “Oh, I can see how two or three young girls in this day and age might think it funny to steal a poor old mail carrier’s letters and hide the whole lot of ’em from the rightful owners for a day or two. I’m not so blind I can’t see through a knothole.”
Nancy was furious. “Mrs. Skeets, you have no right to insinuate such a thing. Neither I nor my friends would be guilty of such a low trick! And the post office wouldn’t think it was any joke. We’d be liable.”
“Maybe so, maybe so,” said Mrs. Skeets. She opened the front door with a flourish and stepped onto the porch. “I can’t help havin’ my thoughts, though. But I won’t say anything. Don’t think I’m a gossip. Good-by!” She went down the front steps.
By this time Hannah Gruen had joined Nancy. As the suspicious woman walked out of sight down the driveway, the housekeeper remarked:
“Imagine having to live with such a person! I don’t blame Sailor Joe for taking long voyages to get away from her!”
Nancy burst into laughter, then reminded Mrs. Gruen that the Drews’ letters had not been returned.
“I suspect that the thief had planned to steal only our mail but didn’t have much time and so he took everything. He couldn’t guess there was money in Mrs. Skeets’s letter and he wasn’t interested in the contents of any others except ours.”
Mrs. Gruen nodded. “This directly involves you in the case. Well, honey, you’d better get back to your packing.”
Nancy had just finished when Mr. Drew returned. He laughed heartily at her story of Mrs. Skeets and then said he thought Nancy’s theories about the stolen letters were correct.
“This seems to pinpoint the fact that the mail thief, who is probably Edgar Nixon, was after the letter to my client which had a large sum of money in it. Whether or not he knew about the message for Nancy Smith Drew is something still to be cleared up.”
By eight o’clock the following morning Nancy was ready to leave the house. She had all the letters for Edgar Nixon in a large envelope of her father’s and went with them directly to the postal inspector, Mr. Wernick, who was already at work. He was delighted to hear that most of the mail taken from Ira Nixon had been returned.
“But we have no lead to the guilty person,” he told her. “Even that shoe your little friend Tommy gave you must belong to someone else. Shoe prints of Edgar Nixon at Ira’s house don’t match.”
“Too bad,” said Nancy.
She told about the letters coming to Edgar Nixon and her suspicions regarding them. When she showed Mr. Wernick the two she had read, he stared in amazement.
“This is very serious,” the postal inspector said. “I’ll run the rest through our X-ray machine and see if there’s money in them.”