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Chapter 6 The Clue of the Broken Locket by Carolyn Keene

A Night of Mishaps
No one moved for the space of an instant. Then Nancy and her chum darted up the stairway, while the Blairs and their guests stood staring as though paralyzed with fear. The girls judged from the sound that the crash had come from the general direction of the nursery.

“Oh, I wonder if anything has happened to the babies!” Bess exclaimed anxiously.

One glimpse into the babies’ room assured them that nothing was amiss there. The twins were sleeping peacefully in their cribs.

“Then it must have come from the servants’ quarters,” Nancy decided.

They rushed to the back stairs which led down to the kitchen. On a landing lay Colleen in a heap, moaning. All about her were strewn jagged fragments of nursing bottles.

“Are you hurt?” Nancy cried, hurrying down to assist her.

She lifted the sobbing Colleen to her feet.

“It’s my arm! I’ve cut it!”

The Blairs and their guests were hastening down the stairway. Nancy led the girl to the kitchen, there to examine the cut under a light.

“What happened?” she questioned.

“I was carrying the empty bottles from the nursery when I caught my shoe in a torn place in the stair carpet.” The weeping Colleen cast Mrs. Blair a reproachful glance to remind the actress that she had promised to have the hole repaired. “Down I went, the bottles on top of me. I might have been killed!”

“But you weren’t,” Nancy said cheerfully, for she saw that the girl was more frightened than hurt.

“You should watch where you’re going!” Mrs. Blair told her tartly.

“Let me see your arm,” Nancy suggested.

Colleen obligingly held out the injured member. There was only a slight flesh wound, but Nancy stared at it in fascinated amazement. By some strange coincidence the wound had taken the intricate shape of a heart. Anyone with a vivid imagination could easily fancy that the mark had been caused by some evil influence.

“Another heart!” Kitty Blair cried, staring blankly. “Oh! Oh!”

She toppled over in a faint and would have fallen to the floor, had not her husband caught her in his arms.

For several minutes everything was in confusion, Nancy herself scarcely knowing which way to turn. Colleen began to weep again; Mrs. Dunbar grew hysterical; the guests dashed about the kitchen getting in one another’s way, and accomplishing nothing.

Johnny revived his wife by dashing a glass of cold water into her face. She opened her eyes, sputtering angrily.

“You’ve ruined my best gown, you stupid man!” she berated. Then her eye fell upon Colleen and she became greatly excited again, calling out, “Take her away! Take her away!”

Nancy and Bess led Colleen to the nursery, where they washed and bandaged the cut.

“What did Mrs. Blair mean when she cried ‘another heart’?” the girl demanded.

“Oh, it was just a superstitious idea of hers,” Nancy replied carelessly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Something about the babies, I’ll bet!” the maid guessed shrewdly. “You know, ever since I came here strange things have been happening!”

“Nonsense!” Nancy laughed.

“It isn’t nonsense. The cook predicted that bad luck would follow the children into the house, and I believe she’s right!”

Nothing the girls said altered Colleen’s belief that the twins had a “sign” upon them.

“Whatever you do, don’t suggest such a silly idea to Mrs. Blair,” Nancy warned her as she left the maid.

Returning to the living room, the girls found that Kitty Blair had recovered her composure somewhat. Nevertheless, she still appeared shaken up and frightened.

“I almost wish now that I hadn’t burned the baby clothes,” she told Nancy. “If anything should happen to ruin my career, I’d know it was the result of that one act.”

The hour had grown late. Nancy and Bess were tired, while the latter was particularly eager to return home lest her parents worry. Hastily they bade good-bye to the guests, promising to return again some day.

“I intend to keep that promise, too,” Nancy informed her chum as they hurried to the waiting automobile. “Not because I find the Blairs such splendid company, however.”

“Aren’t they disgusting! So very shallow-minded and superstitious.”

“Yes. If all theatrical people were of their caliber, I’d never care to go to another show. But they’re certainly not like most actors.”

The girls entered the car. As soon as they were a safe distance from the estate, they removed the baby garments from their bérets.

“Such an evening!” Bess exclaimed. “I’m all tired out.”

“So am I. Even so, we have accomplished our purpose. We have the bundle we went after.”

“And we know a great deal about the Blairs and their frivolous friends,” Bess added. “I’m getting very interested in the case, Nancy.”

“Glad you came along?”

“Am I? You’ll keep me posted on any developments that may arise, won’t you?”

“Yes, indeed,” Nancy promised.

“I am certain you’ll find the parents of the twins,” her chum maintained firmly. “You can do anything you make up your mind to do.”

Nancy laughed.

“I’m not so certain of that.”

“Look at the complicated mysteries you’ve cleared up in the past. And you have splendid evidence to work on in this case.”

“The locket may be a clue,” Nancy admitted.

“And it seems to me you have uncovered another clue in Rodney,” Bess pointed out eagerly. “Did you notice how he kept looking at the burning baby clothes in the fireplace?”

“Yes, I noticed that especially.”

“It struck me that there was a connection of some kind between him and the twins,” Bess went on. “Though he may have been gassed in the war, it’s my opinion he fainted when he saw that bundle burning, and not from the effects of his overseas experience.”

“He certainly was affected by the sight. Still, we mustn’t jump hastily at conclusions. Circumstantial evidence isn’t always correct evidence, you know.”

“Just the same, I think Rodney knows something about the twins,” Bess maintained. “Maybe he’s their father!”

“Now that is an idea!” Nancy laughed. “Did you notice any resemblance?”

“Oh, stop teasing, Nancy Drew! Of course I didn’t. I know my ideas are absurd.”

“They’re not!” Nancy said quickly. “To tell you the truth, I thought the very same thing.”

“You did!”

“Yes, but I’m not allowing myself to believe a thing without the necessary proof. We must make haste slowly.”

“Of course. If Mrs. Blair suspected that we were intending to interfere in her affairs, she’d make serious trouble.”

“That’s the way I figure it. We must keep this thing under our hats until we have definite proof as to the babies’ parentage.”

“Under our bérets, you mean,” Bess chuckled. “We started out that way, at least!”

Nancy drove rapidly and soon reached River Heights. She dropped Bess off at the Marvin home, again cautioning her to the strictest secrecy.

A light was burning in Carson Drew’s study when she finally reached home. She found her father nervously pacing the floor.

“I’ve been worrying about you,” he confessed. “Hannah had a weird tale to report when she returned from Jolly Folly.”

“I should think she must have,” Nancy laughed.

Just then she caught a glimpse of the housekeeper at the door and knew that the good woman was fairly beside herself with anxiety, fearing that her young mistress had brought the twins home.

“You may as well come in, Hannah,” Nancy invited.

Somewhat sheepishly, the housekeeper entered. She continued to eye the girl dubiously, and cast a quick glance about the study.

“You needn’t worry,” Nancy told her with an amused smile. “I left the babies with Mrs. Blair.”

“Oh, I was afraid you might do something impulsive,” Hannah returned in evident relief. “It isn’t that I don’t like babies, only——”

“You like them at a distance,” Nancy teased. “I did feel tempted to bring the darlings home with me, but I knew that would never do.”

After the housekeeper had left the study, Nancy turned to her father, showing him the locket and the children’s garments.

“This is what my evening netted me, Dad. What do you think of my haul?”

Curiously Mr. Drew examined the articles. He did not look as impressed as Nancy had expected he would.

“You did well to obtain these things,” he said briskly. “However, I’m afraid you must have more substantial evidence than this to get anywhere in this case.”

“Then you think the clothes won’t be of any help?”

“The garments haven’t a mark or initial of any kind on them.”

“I thought the broken locket might be of real significance in solving this mystery.”

“Perhaps.”

Carson Drew turned the curious trinket over in his hand, examining it closely under the light. It was made of gold, and was an exquisite piece of craftsmanship, finely wrought. Yet there was no initial, inscription, or picture of any kind upon it.

“You haven’t much to start on, Nancy.”

“I realize that. But I have a feeling that if I just keep on plugging away, something may turn up.”

“Then I don’t want to discourage you. After all, success is ninety per cent perspiration and only ten per cent inspiration!”

“I’ll keep these articles, anyway,” Nancy decided, wrapping the clothing into a neat bundle. “If the twins’ mother should appear some day, I can at least give these to her. Then she’ll have a few things to remember her babies by.”

“I tried to do a little detective work myself after you left,” Carson Drew said abruptly as his daughter turned to leave.

“You did? What did you learn?”

“Nothing. I don’t seem to have your luck, Nancy. It occurred to me to try to trace that telegram which was signed ‘Broken Heart.’ But that was impossible.”

“Perhaps the woman will try to get in touch with us personally a little later,” Nancy commented hopefully.

“She may, though I doubt it. The afternoon paper had a story about the adoption. When the mother sees it, she’ll know that it is too late for her to do anything.”

The attorney spread the paper out upon his desk for Nancy to read. On a half-page layout were the pictures of the twins, together with flattering poses of their new parents, Kitty and Johnny Blair.

“Why, this copy must have been prepared ahead of time,” she remarked, frowning.

“The Blairs’ publicity agent isn’t overlooking anything,” her father returned dryly.

“Father, you said something a minute ago that I didn’t exactly agree with,” Nancy remarked after a pause. “You stated that if the mother of the twins were to see this paper, she would know it was too late for her to do anything. Did you mean that?”

Mr. Drew hesitated before answering.

“The adoption papers are signed, Nancy. Even if you should be successful in tracing the mother of the babies, I’m not convinced that matters could be adjusted.”

“But surely any court would award a mother her own children!”

“That depends upon several factors, Nancy. Usually a court does not look with favor upon a woman who abandons her offspring.”

“There isn’t any real proof that she did. As I understand it—though my information is scant—the babies were found during a storm. Perhaps they were accidentally separated from their parents.”

“That might have been the case.”

“I mean to go to the Selkirk Home one of these days and learn all the details,” Nancy continued.

“I see that you don’t intend to give up the search,” Mr. Drew smiled.

“Indeed not. I know it’s foolish of me, but I keep thinking of those helpless twins and what a miserable life they’ll have if Kitty Blair rears them.”

“My little girl is very tender-hearted,” the attorney said, drawing her down upon the arm of the easy chair. “I’m glad you are that way, though.”

Nancy gave him a kiss, and then rumpled his hair.

“You’re a peach, Father,” she laughed. “You let me do anything I like and never make fun of my wild ideas.”

Before Mr. Drew could respond, the doorbell rang. Nancy sprang to her feet, thrusting the broken locket and the bundle of baby clothes into a convenient desk drawer.

“Sit still, Father. I’ll answer. It’s probably one of the girls.”

As she opened the door, great was her surprise to see standing before her the Reverend Doctor Paul Stafford. He was a kindly, middle-aged man, pastor of a church in the opposite end of the city from the Drew home. This was the first time he had ever called, although Nancy knew him well by sight.

“Why, good evening, Doctor Stafford,” she greeted him. “Won’t you come in?”

“Yes, I must see your father if he is at home. I am sorry to trouble him at this late hour, but what I have to tell him is important.”

“Father is in his study.”

Nancy observed that the minister appeared somewhat agitated as she conducted him to Mr. Drew. She turned to leave, but before she could reach the door he broached the subject of his mission.

“Mr. Drew, I’ve come to talk about a rather odd matter,” he began slowly. “This afternoon a woman came to my parsonage—a total stranger. She begged me to carry a message to you.”

At these words Nancy became supremely alert. Her sense of intuition told her that the minister’s visitor had some connection with the twins.

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