Chapter 10 The Clue of the Broken Locket by Carolyn Keene
An Ultimatum
“And is that the message you wish me to deliver to the Blairs?” Nancy inquired, smiling.
The producer hesitated.
“Yes, tell them just that! If they expect to work for me, they must keep their minds on their business.”
From his coat pocket he withdrew a thick envelope which he tapped significantly.
“I have a new contract here for them to sign. I won’t have time to come back, so I’ll leave it with you.”
“I’ll give it to the Blairs just as soon as they arrive,” Nancy promised him.
“And tell them what I said about the babies, too. Back they go to the Home!”
Mr. McNeery had taken to pacing the veranda again, puffing viciously at a strong cigar.
“The Blairs won’t dare go against my wishes,” he fumed. “They know where their bread and butter comes from.”
Although Nancy and Bess said nothing, they did not miss a word of the tirade.
“They won’t dare turn down this contract,” the producer went on to himself. “They can bluff most people but they can’t bluff me! This house—the fine grounds”—his hand swept out in a disparaging gesture—“all are mortgaged to the hilt!”
Here, indeed, was news for Nancy and Bess. They listened attentively.
“Kitty and Johnny Blair have talent,” McNeery went on, cooling down slightly. “I’d be the last person in the world to deny it. But they’re lazy and live beyond their means. They don’t like to rehearse and they’re always complaining about the parts they get. I’d toss them over in a minute if they weren’t able to put over their stuff!”
He ceased his pacing long enough to stare at the babies.
“I have troubles enough without adding twins! You tell the Blairs to get rid of ’em and to do it quick, too!”
“I’ll acquaint them with what you say,” Nancy promised.
“Well, you needn’t tell them everything. Maybe I said a little more than I intended, but those people infuriate me sometimes! Just tell them about the babies—that business is business, and sentiment should be left out of it.”
He thrust the long sealed envelope into her hand and turned to leave.
“You won’t forget to give this contract to them, will you?”
“I’ll put it in their hands as soon as they come in,” Nancy assured him.
“O.K., and many thanks!”
With these words the producer hurried down the steps, flung himself into his car, and drove away.
“Well, well,” Bess remarked when they were alone, “we’re hearing plenty of news.”
“And all of it detrimental to the Blairs. Bess, I didn’t like that man, but he’s refreshingly honest. I almost hope he forces the Blairs to send the babies back!”
“So do I. I’ve always thought an Orphan Home would be a dreadful place for children to be reared in, but I’ve changed my mind. Judging from the care these babies got, they’re good places.”
“If we can only get the twins back to the Selkirk Home, their real parents may turn up,” Nancy added hopefully.
Although neither girl cared to put her feelings into words, both had grown to dislike the Blairs intensely, while their love for the twins had developed by leaps and bounds. Mr. McNeery’s visit encouraged them to believe that the unfortunate situation might right itself in time.
The girls looked about for Doctor Stafford. During the conversation the minister had wandered away to inspect the grounds. They could see him down by the river.
“It’s just as well he was out of hearing,” Nancy commented. “He might have been offended at some of Mr. McNeery’s ideas about babies.”
“Here comes someone on foot, Nancy,” Bess interrupted. “I wonder who it can be?”
They were not left in doubt for long. The man walked up to the place where they were standing and addressed them politely.
“I am looking for Mr. or Mrs. Blair.”
“They are both out for the day,” Nancy returned.
The man eyed her quizzically.
“That’s what I’m always told when I call.”
“But they really are away,” Nancy maintained. “Is there a message I can give them?”
“Give them this.”
The man thrust forward a grocery bill. The long column of figures and the huge total amazed Nancy.
“I’ll see that they get it,” she offered.
The collector smiled and shook his head.
“They’d only tear it up. No, I’ll call again and see them in person. However, they’ll get no more groceries from my firm until they’ve paid us what they owe. This bill has been running for months.”
“Really!” Nancy murmured.
Here was more interesting news. She was learning a great deal about the financial standing of the Blairs.
“This isn’t the only bill they owe—not by a long shot! I guess they think it’s fashionable to keep folks waiting for their money.” So saying, the man turned and walked away.
Scarcely had he vanished than the girls caught a glimpse of the cook trudging up the walk with a basket filled with food slung over her arm. Nancy hurried to assist her.
“You shouldn’t carry such a heavy load,” she chided.
The woman sank down in the shade of the veranda to rest.
“And who will if I don’t?” she sniffed. “The butcher has refused to deliver here because the bills aren’t paid. I’m sick and tired of working for such people!”
The girls helped her carry the basket to the kitchen. Returning to the veranda, they found that the Reverend Doctor Stafford had finished his tour of inspection of the grounds.
“I don’t believe I’ll wait for Mr. and Mrs. Blair any longer,” he told them, stepping into his car. “I may call again tomorrow. Good day, and thank you.”
The girls watched him drive away. Then, deciding that the twins had been out of doors long enough for one time, they carried them to the second floor.
“At least, we’ve given Colleen a good rest,” Nancy remarked. “I hope she’s feeling better by this time.”
The girls gasped in surprise as they entered the nursery. Preening herself before a long mirror stood the nursemaid, arrayed in Mrs. Blair’s new evening gown.
“Why, Colleen!” Nancy exclaimed reprovingly.
“Oh!”
Frantically the girl began to tug at the dress, trying to pull it off over her head.
“Wait!” Nancy warned. “Let me help you with it!”
Too late. Colleen gave a vicious pull and ripped a drape of the flimsy material. She gazed down at the long tear in horror.
“Oh, oh, see what I’ve done!”
“You had no right to be trying on Mrs. Blair’s clothes,” Bess told her sternly.
Colleen burst into tears.
“Oh, I’ll be discharged now! I didn’t mean to tear the dress. I didn’t think it would do a bit of harm just to see how it would look on me! Oh, oh, what shall I do?”
“It doesn’t do any good to cry, that’s certain,” Nancy said, not unkindly.
She picked up the gown and carefully examined the tear.
“Go get a needle and thread, Colleen. I believe you can mend this so it won’t show.”
“I can’t sew.”
Nancy and Bess exchanged quick glances. It seemed to them that Colleen could do nothing useful. She had taken advantage of them by inducing them to care for the babies while she rested. Although they felt that she deserved no help, the girls did not have the heart to see her exposed to Mrs. Blair’s wrath. If the actress ever were to discover that the nursemaid had worn her gown, it was a foregone conclusion that she would discharge Colleen.
“If I mend the dress for you, will you promise never to touch Mrs. Blair’s things again?” Nancy asked her.
“Oh, Miss Drew, it’s so good of you!”
“But do you promise?”
“Yes! If you’ll mend the drape! I’ll get the thread.”
Before Nancy had time to change her mind, Colleen darted from the room.
“You’re foolish to do it,” Bess declared.
“I suppose I am,” Nancy sighed, “but I hate to see anyone in trouble.”
“She brought this upon herself.”
“Yes. But perhaps it will teach her a lesson. I don’t like to deceive Mrs. Blair about the gown, but if we tell her she’s certain to discharge Colleen.”
With her position hanging in the balance, the girl lost no time finding thread and needle. She watched anxiously while Nancy labored over the drape.
“It’s a more difficult tear than I thought,” Nancy remarked.
“Hurry!” Colleen urged impatiently, glancing at the clock. “Mrs. Blair may be home any minute now.”
Nancy sewed as rapidly as she could, taking neat, tiny stitches. The flimsy material was difficult to handle.
Before she had finished, the roar of a motor car was heard on the drive. Colleen rushed to the window.
“Oh, the Blairs are coming home!” she cried in horror.
Nervously Nancy tried to stitch faster.
“I have only a little more to do.”
Colleen began to wring her hands.
“They’re coming into the house!” she reported from the window.
“It will take them a few minutes to remove their wraps,” Nancy said.
Colleen looked about the room like a trapped animal seeking an avenue of escape.
“I must go down to the kitchen to see about the babies’ supper!” she declared glibly.
Before the girls could stop her she dashed from the room.
“The little coward!” Bess exclaimed.
Nancy laughed ruefully.
“Think up something quickly, Bess, or we’ll be in for a lot of explaining!”
Not until Colleen had deserted the scene had it occurred to Nancy that Mrs. Blair might blame them for the torn gown.