Chapter 7 The Message in the Hollow Oak by Carolyn Keene
A Clue to the Deed
Nancy and her chums huddled in the barren corridor outside of Miss Chapelle’s room. Doctors and attendants went in and out, their faces tense, but no one took time to pause and tell the girls if the authoress was still alive.
“As long as the doctors keep working over her, she must be living,” Bess declared with forced cheerfulness.
“What was it she whispered?” George asked. “I was too far from the bed to catch the words.”
“She said, ‘The message in the Hollow Oak,’ ” Nancy informed her. “What that means I don’t know.”
“She must have been delirious,” Bess said.
Nancy was on the point of disagreeing, when the door opened and the nurse quietly stepped into the corridor. She walked rapidly toward the girls.
“How is she?” Nancy asked fearfully.
“We thought the end had come, but by some miracle she has rallied.”
“Then there is hope?” Nancy inquired.
“Yes, Miss Chapelle is sleeping quietly now, but of course the danger is not past. If you are acquainted with her friends or relatives, I suggest you wire them immediately.”
Nancy was forced to acknowledge that she could not provide the hospital with the names. However, she was struck with a sudden thought.
“Miss Chapelle came from Hollywood. It’s possible that someone in the moving picture colony knows of her family. Or, you might get in touch with one of the magazines for which she writes.”
“Thank you for your suggestion,” the nurse said gratefully. “We’ll try both leads.”
Since they could be of no assistance by remaining at the hospital, the girls returned to the Hamilton Hotel.
“What are our plans to be?” George asked gloomily, as they discussed matters in their room. “Shall we return to River Heights?”
“We shouldn’t go away and leave Mrs. Donnelly,” Nancy said. “Anyway, from what the nurse told me I rather think she’ll be able to travel again in a few days.”
“Then do you think we might go on into Canada?” Bess questioned eagerly.
“If Mrs. Donnelly fully recovers I think we can; that is, if I get my deed back. Of course, without the paper it would be foolish of me to go on to Wellington Lake.”
“Why not drive out to the Ranny farm this afternoon?” George proposed.
“I had thought of it. We’re not doing Mrs. Donnelly or Miss Chapelle any good by remaining at the hospital, and the excursion will help fill in our time.”
The girls were a trifle worried concerning their finances. Although their parents had given them ample funds for the journey to Lake Wellington, they had not figured on additional hotel bills and frequent taxi fares to and from the county hospital. Nancy suggested that they might save money by engaging a car and driving it themselves. However, they were less enthusiastic about the idea when they saw the old automobile that was assigned to them.
“Do you think it will hold together long enough for us to get to the Ranny farm?” Bess asked doubtfully.
“That car’s been running for nearly ten years now,” the owner informed her, irritated by her manner. “You’re the first folks that ever complained about it.”
“Oh, we’re not complaining,” Nancy said hastily. “If you’ll show me how to start the engine, I think we can manage very well.”
Bess and George refused to have anything to do with the intricate mechanism of the old vehicle, so Nancy was obliged to take the wheel. Before leaving town she inquired the way to the Ranny farm.
“Take the first turn south,” she was told glibly, “then turn north at Fisher’s farm, cross the Little Bear Creek, go south again for quite a piece, and angle off a bit to the west until you come to a crooked lane. Follow it for maybe a mile, and you’ll be there!”
“Just as clear as mud,” Nancy laughingly reported to her chums. “I suspect this trip will turn out to be a pioneering expedition after all.”
Before they had gone two miles a rear tire blew out. It took the girls almost three-quarters of an hour to fix it, for some of the necessary tools were missing. When the tire had been changed, they had difficulty in starting the car again, for Nancy was not used to the temperamental tricks of the engine.
At length the motor began to roar and the girls continued down the dusty road. They had no way of knowing how far they had traveled, for the speedometer was broken.
“It seems to me we’ve gone at least ten miles,” George maintained. “I know we’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere.”
“I suppose we have,” Nancy sighed, stopping the car. “I think I’ll walk over to that farmhouse on the hill and get directions.”
Unwilling to be left behind, Bess and George insisted upon walking with their chum, who proposed that they cut through a pasture to save time. They crawled under a fence and struck out across the fields. Only after they had gone quite a distance did they notice a bull quietly grazing in the far end of the field.
“O-oh,” Bess squealed in fright, “let’s turn back!”
“It will be farther to the road than to the house,” Nancy pointed out.
“That old bull won’t hurt you,” George teased. “He isn’t even looking this way.”
But as she spoke the animal raised its head. Terrified, Bess started to run. Her red sweater infuriated the animal. With a snort of rage, it came toward the girls.
“Run for your lives!” Nancy shouted.
The three girls raced madly for the fence. Heavy hoofs pounded behind them. As she glanced over her shoulder, Nancy saw that soon the bull would be upon them. They might reach the fence, but they would never have sufficient time to climb over it.
“Hurry, and you’ll make it!” a masculine voice shouted.
The girls noticed a big wooden gate, and could see a farmer who was swinging it open for them. They darted through, fairly collapsing at his feet. Then the gate slammed after them, and they were safe.
“What do you mean by frightening my bull?” the man demanded crossly.
The girls stared at him, then burst into laughter.
“We thought it was the other way around,” Nancy managed to say, as she tried to regain her breath.
“Didn’t you see that sign on the fence that said to keep out?”
“We didn’t see any sign,” Nancy maintained. “We were driving along the road and noticed your house. We wanted to ask the way to the Ranny farm, and thought we’d take a short cut through the field.”
It was the farmer’s turn to stare.
“You’re at the Ranny farm now,” he said.
“And are you Mr. Ranny?” Nancy questioned. “The man who left the letter at the newspaper office?”
“Yes, I am. Who be you?”
Nancy told him her name and introduced her chums. The farmer softened considerably after they explained their mission.
“Yes, I have the paper safe in the house,” he admitted. “I was taking the milk and some produce to town early in the morning, when I saw the document lyin’ on the grass. Soon as I looked at it I knew it was something important, so I wrote that letter and left it at the newspaper office. Figured someone would be advertising before long.”
“I’d like to give you a reward,” Nancy promised.
The farmer looked as if he had been insulted.
“I don’t want any reward. You’re welcome to the paper if it belongs to you.”
“Oh, thank you,” Nancy said gratefully. “I can prove that it is mine, for it is a deed to my property in Canada.”
“Come along, then, and I’ll give it to you.”
He led the girls into a comfortable cottage and introduced them to a stout, pleasant-faced woman who was baking pie in the kitchen. She greeted the girls cordially, chatting amiably with them while her husband found the deed he had put away in the desk.
“A dreadful wreck, wasn’t it?” Mrs. Ranny began conversationally.
“Indeed it was,” Nancy agreed. “We were in it, too.”
She then told of their experiences. The farmer’s wife listened spellbound.
“I feel so sorry for the poor passengers who were hurt,” Mrs. Ranny said sympathetically. “I said to my husband this morning, I only wished we might do something to help.”
“Perhaps you can,” Nancy returned, as a plan occurred to her. Before she could tell what it was, Mr. Ranny came with the deed.
“Here you are, Miss Drew. I’m glad to be able to accommodate you.”
“I wish you would accept a reward.”
The farmer shook his head stubbornly, so Nancy did not urge him further.
“Won’t you all stay to dinner?” Mrs. Ranny asked cordially. “We’re having steak that we butchered ourselves.”
The delightful aroma of food cooking was too much for Nancy and her chums to resist. After a little urging they gratefully accepted the invitation to remain.
The girls were not mistaken in thinking that Mrs. Ranny was an excellent cook. The food she served was plain and substantial, but well seasoned. Her guests paid her many fine compliments on it.
Nancy was eager to show her gratitude for the return of the lost deed. As she prepared to leave, she mentioned the plan which had occurred to her.
“You spoke of wanting to do something to aid the unfortunate passengers who were injured in the wreck, Mrs. Ranny. As it happens, we have a friend who was slightly hurt. She is at the Good Hope Hospital now but expects to leave within a day or two. She should go to a place where she can have a complete rest. If you would care to have her here, I am sure that some arrangement might be worked out.”
“I should indeed be glad to have her come here,” Mrs. Ranny said without an instant’s hesitation. “I don’t mind saying we need money. And this is a quiet place for an invalid. We have plenty of milk and eggs.”
“Then I’ll talk over the idea with her and let you know,” Nancy promised, turning to leave.
When Mrs. Donnelly was informed of the plan, she grew more than enthusiastic. Although Miss Chapelle’s condition remained unchanged, the older woman had improved rapidly. The doctors agreed that she might leave the hospital whenever she wished.
“Then we’ll take you down to the farm tomorrow,” Nancy promised her. “I know you’ll love the place, for it is very clean and pleasant.”
At three the next afternoon a comfortable touring car brought Mrs. Donnelly and the girls to the Ranny place. Nancy was delighted to find that the invalid seemed highly pleased with the surroundings. However, when Mrs. Ranny came hurrying out of the house to greet the party, the girl was destined for a severe shock.
“Mrs. Ranny, this is Mrs. Donnelly,” said Nancy pleasantly.
The only response to her introduction was a chilly silence. The two women were staring at each other, bitter hatred in their eyes.
“Take me back to the hospital!” Mrs. Donnelly ordered sharply. “Never in the world will I stay here!”