Chapter 22 The Message in the Hollow Oak by Carolyn Keene
The Lost Bracelet
“He has found my bracelet!” Nancy repeated, as she recognized the object Tom Stripe had picked up from the soft earth.
The man did not seem to know what to make of the discovery, for he turned the trinket over and over in his hand, finally placing it in his pocket. Glancing carefully about him, he walked over to a clump of bushes not far from the place where Nancy and Norman Ranny were hiding, and drew forth a spade. As he walked back to the old oak he began to turn up the loose earth at its base.
Nancy watched him, fascinated. How had the man known that the treasure chest had been hidden beneath the oak? She was convinced that he had not guessed the truth, and that the bracelet had not furnished the clue. He had brought his spade to the site for the express purpose of looking for the buried money.
Tensely the two waited. Would Tom Stripe find the new hiding place after discovering the hole was empty? He was already a bit suspicious. They could hear him muttering under his breath as he rested upon the steel tool.
“This must be the place,” Nancy caught the words. “It fits old Chap’s description to a ‘T.’ Looks like someone has beat me here.”
Convinced that Stripe had obtained inside information concerning the hidden chest, Nancy whispered a plan to her companion. Ranny nodded that he understood, and crept back to the place where the horses had been left. He returned a moment later, bringing with him a long coil of rope.
“Do you think you can lasso him from this distance?” Nancy whispered anxiously. “If you miss, he’ll get away.”
Ranny did not reply. Instead, he stepped out into the open, his rope swinging. It swished swiftly through the air, and settled neatly over Tom Stripe’s shoulders.
Taken completely by surprise, the man dropped his spade and uttered a terrified yell. As he struggled to free himself, Ranny drew the rope taut about his captive’s waist.
“Let me go!” the prisoner snarled.
“All in good time,” Nancy replied pleasantly. “Tie him to the tree, Mr. Ranny.”
Tom Stripe made a desperate effort to free himself, but was unable to move. The prospector then trussed him securely to the trunk of the old oak.
“What do you want?” the prisoner demanded fearfully. “If it’s the money, I have never found it.”
“So we noticed,” Nancy responded. “You may as well tell us the truth, Tom Stripe, for it will go much easier with you if you do. Who told you about Mr. Chap’s money?”
The prisoner maintained a sullen silence.
“What have you done with the recluse?” Nancy demanded sharply.
The only answer was a sardonic smile.
Ranny tried the next question. Though he threatened the man, he could not get a word from him. Realizing that such tactics were useless, Nancy and her guide retired a few paces away for a consultation.
“What shall we do?” the girl asked, almost at her wits’ end. “We must make him talk, for I feel certain he can tell us where Grandfather Pierre is.”
“I think I can make him tell the truth,” Ranny returned grimly.
“We mustn’t harm him in any way. I would never consent to that.”
“I’ll not hurt him, but I intend to give him a good scare. Whatever I do, back me up in it. Don’t lose your nerve. I think he’ll talk!”
Nancy was almost as troubled as was the prisoner when the prospector began to gather together a pile of dry sticks.
“What are you going to do?” Stripe demanded uneasily.
“Oh, just build a little fire. Still think you don’t care to talk, eh?”
Stripe ignored the question, but Nancy observed that beads of perspiration had broken out over the man’s face. She began to feel a bit sorry for him.
Ranny brought the pile of dry wood and placed it at the base of the oak tree.
“This is just an old trick the Indians sometimes used with their prisoners,” he remarked pleasantly.
Tom Stripe’s face became convulsed with terror. Yet even then he would not give in.
“You haven’t the nerve to go through with it!” he taunted.
“Wait and see,” Ranny countered.
After he had finished his somewhat elaborate preparations, he drew a match from his pocket. Stripe watched with fascinated eyes as the prospector lighted the dry wood. A tiny flame leaped up, licking at the prisoner’s boots.
It was all Nancy could do to keep from pleading with Ranny to extinguish the blaze. Yet she recalled his promise that he would not harm the man.
“Now will you talk?” Ranny asked.
Tom Stripe moistened his lips. He gazed down at the fire. The last shred of his courage vanished.
“Put out the fire! Put it out!” he screamed. “I’ll tell you the truth!”
Nancy darted forward to help Ranny stamp out the flames. The prisoner had not been hurt, though he was almost hysterical from fright.
“All right. Out with the story,” the prospector ordered.
“I knew all about the hidden chest,” Stripe gasped. “I tortured Pierre Chap and forced him to tell me where he had hidden it.”
At this admission Ranny involuntarily stepped forward as if to strike the prisoner. However, Nancy placed a restraining hand upon his arm. With an effort he controlled his temper and listened to the remainder of the story.
“Where is Mr. Chap now?” Nancy questioned, after Stripe had finished relating the manner in which he had overpowered the old man.
The captive hesitated, then said:
“He’s hidden in an old cave about six miles from here. It’s called Gordon’s Grotto.”
“I know where you mean,” Ranny nodded.
“You stay here and watch Stripe,” Nancy suggested. “I’ll race back to camp and tell the sheriff. The possé can start for Gordon’s Grotto in a few minutes.”
The prospector wrote out complete directions for reaching the cave. With the notation safe in her pocket, Nancy galloped back to the mining camp. As she dismounted at her destination, a man came to meet her. With an unpleasant start she recognized him as Raymond Niles.
“So you’re here, too!”
“Oh, I’ve been close by all the while,” the man smiled disarmingly. “But I’ve taken no part in this scheme to defraud you of your land.”
“Oh, no!” Nancy retorted sarcastically.
“It’s the truth. I did try to buy your property, but I have a great distaste for the whole affair now. Since I’ve met you and found you such a charming young lady——”
“I don’t care for your admiration, Mr. Niles! Please permit me to pass.”
With a toss of her head Nancy moved past him and went to find the sheriff. She quickly informed him of all that had occurred near the hollow oak.
“I’ll send some of my deputies there without delay to take Stripe prisoner,” the man promised. “I’ll dispatch another group to Gordon’s Grotto.”
At Nancy’s suggestion, great care was taken to prevent Buck Sawtice from suspecting what was going on. So engrossed was he at the moment in arguing with the surveyor, that he observed nothing else.
Not until the two groups of men rode away did he note that anything unusual was occurring. Then he strode angrily over to Carson Drew.
“What is it you’re up to now?” he demanded.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” the attorney retorted.
“You know well enough! But I’m tired of all this trouble. I’m willing to make your daughter a fair offer for her land!”
Carson Drew could not restrain a smile. He had seen the man talking with the surveyor, and surmised that the latter had refused to be bribed or intimidated.
“What do you consider a fair price, Mr. Sawtice?”
“A thousand dollars.”
“That’s not very much for property that contains gold,” Mr. Drew smiled.
“It’s my best offer. If you don’t take it I may not be so generous again.” So saying, Sawtice turned and walked away.
Carson Drew sought his daughter to tell her the latest development. As they were discussing it the surveyor joined them.
“I’ve practically finished my work,” he announced.
“And is the land mine?” Nancy questioned eagerly.
“Absolutely. However, it’s my own opinion someone is going to be badly disappointed about this property.”
“What do you mean?” Mr. Drew asked.
The surveyor lowered his voice.
“It happens I know a little about mining. After going over this property today I’m inclined to doubt that the veins of gold are very extensive. In my opinion it would cost more to mine the ore than it would ever be worth.”
“Sawtice has offered my daughter a thousand dollars for the tract.”
“I’d take it,” the surveyor advised. “The property is of no use for farming.”
“What do you think, Nancy?” her father inquired.
“I scarcely know what to say, Father. I think I’ll not make my decision quite yet.”
Nancy was disappointed. At first she had never dared hope that gold would be found on her land, but the events of the past few days had led her to think otherwise. It was now difficult for her to accept the truth.
“We can’t stay here in the woods indefinitely,” Mr. Drew told his daughter gently. “After all, the land cost you nothing, and you came here to inspect it, anticipating a possible disappointment.”
“I suppose it would be best to sell, only——”
“Many a dollar has been lost because the trader held on, hoping that the market would turn.”
“You’re right. I’ll sell. When you see Sawtice tell him I accept his offer. Only I dislike having dealings with a man of his character.”
“If it turns out that he harmed Pierre Chap in any way, there’ll be another reckoning with him,” the attorney promised.
He went to find the man, and the two conferred together for some time. Nancy joined them at her father’s call.
“Mr. Sawtice has agreed to pay cash for the property,” he informed her. “He will send a plane to the city for it immediately. As soon as the money arrives, you are to sign over the land, and we’ll start home. Is that plan satisfactory?”
“Perfectly,” Nancy declared. “Mr. Sawtice, would you object if I asked your pilot to carry a message for me to the States?”
The man frowned. He did not fancy her request, yet he could not very well refuse it.
“It’s entirely up to him,” he said gruffly. “If he wants to carry a letter, it’s nothing to me.”
Before Nancy could write out a note to Annette Chapelle asking her to come North if she were able to do so, she saw Buck Sawtice talking with the airplane pilot.
“I wonder if he’s telling him not to take the letter,” she thought.
A few minutes later when she made her request to the pilot, he seemed reluctant to accommodate her.
“I don’t see how I can take the note, Miss. I’ll not have time to deliver it, let alone mail it anywhere.”
Raymond Niles, who was standing near by, had overheard the conversation. He was determined to make a favorable impression on Nancy, and stepped forward.
“Go ahead and take the letter,” he urged the aviator. “I’ll be responsible to Sawtice.”
“All right,” the airman agreed. “Give it to me.”
Nancy handed him the message with instructions for its delivery. A little later the plane took off and was lost to view in the sky.
The girl was glad that Raymond Niles had aided her, though she did not feel especially grateful to him, for she was well aware of his purpose. She disliked the man intensely.
“Don’t rush away,” he coaxed her, as she turned after watching the take-off.
“I can’t stop and talk now,” she told him hurriedly.
She had caught a glimpse of the sheriff’s possé returning from the search for Pierre Chap, and ran to meet the riders.