Chapter 16 The Mystery of the Ivory Charm by Carolyn Keene
Inside the Coffee Pot
Shortly after eleven o’clock Nancy and her father returned home from the moving picture show. As they ran the car into the garage they noticed that all was quiet in the room above. No light burned.
“For once Coya went to bed early,” the lawyer commented. “Mrs. Gruen must be asleep too, for her room is dark.”
Both Nancy and her father were weary, and they soon retired, never dreaming that any harm had befallen Coya. The following morning after Mr. Drew had gone to his office, the housekeeper requested Nancy to go to the garage to find out why the boy had failed to come for his breakfast.
“Like as not he’s still sleeping,” Hannah said irritably. “He sits up half the night studying. It’s no wonder he can’t get up in time for breakfast.”
“Coya is usually so prompt,” Nancy answered. “I’m sure he retired at a reasonable hour last night.”
“Well, I wish you’d see what is keeping him. If he isn’t here in five minutes he’ll eat a cold breakfast!”
Nancy mounted the stairway leading to the garage room and knocked on Coya’s door. Receiving no response she knocked again, and then, after listening for a sound, opened the door a crack and peered inside.
“Why, Coya hasn’t slept in his bed!” she exclaimed aloud.
Quickly entering the room she looked about in amazement. The bed covers had not been disturbed, revealing that the lad had failed to spend the night in his room.
The nearby table was cluttered with textbooks and papers, the latter stained with a great blotch of ink from an overturned bottle. A chair too had been upset. A handkerchief lay on the floor. Nancy picked it up and sniffed at it suspiciously.
“Drugs,” she murmured.
Next the girl’s attention was drawn to a footprint near the doorway. It had been made by a large, muddy shoe. Nancy knew that Coya did not wear such a big size.
“The boy has been kidnaped!” she thought. “While we were all away from the house last night someone came here, drugged him, and carried him off!”
Nancy raced madly back to the kitchen to tell Hannah what had occurred.
“Coya has been kidnaped!” she cried.
Mrs. Gruen’s mixing spoon clattered from her hand to the floor.
“Yes. Come and see for yourself! The signs of a struggle are unmistakable.”
Hannah followed the girl to the garage room, and readily acknowledged that the evidence had been correctly interpreted.
“This is dreadful, Nancy! Who could have done such a thing?”
“I have a suspicion, but of course no evidence.”
“We must call the police at once.”
“This isn’t a case for the police in my opinion. I’ll tell Dad what has happened. He’ll know what to do.”
Taking the car, Nancy drove directly to her father’s office. The secretary informed her that Mr. Drew would not be in until after luncheon.
“This is his regular day at the municipal court, you know.”
“Oh, I had forgotten,” Nancy returned in disappointment. “I’ll drop in again this afternoon.”
Slowly she walked back to the parked automobile, seriously considering her next move.
“Nancy!” a voice called. “What are you doing downtown so early in the morning?”
She turned about swiftly, and her face brightened as she recognized Bess and George. It was the latter who had spoken. The two girls were heavily laden with packages, mute evidence that they had been shopping.
“You look as if you were having trouble, Nancy,” Bess observed. “Anything wrong?”
“Just about everything. Coya has been kidnaped. I can’t reach my father and I feel that something should be done immediately.”
“Have you called in the police?” George asked.
“No, I’ll do that only as a last resort. I’ve decided to drive out to the Allison property and see if I can find Jasper Batt. I have a feeling he may know something of the matter.”
“May we go?” Bess questioned eagerly.
“I wish you would! Jump in and we’ll be on our way.”
After a swift ride through the country Nancy parked the car as near as possible to the ruins of the old house, and then the girls walked the remaining distance. They were relieved to see Jasper Batt busy with a rake cleaning up the debris, for they had feared that he might not be available.
“I scarcely know how to approach the man,” Nancy whispered nervously. “He may decide that I am an enemy again and attack us with the rake.”
“We’ll be on our guard,” George declared. “If he seems to be in an ugly mood we can always turn and run.”
The girls quietly drew near.
“Good morning, Mr. Batt,” Nancy said pleasantly.
The man looked up and scowled. “Well, what do you want?” he demanded impatiently. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“I’ll take only a minute of your time, Mr. Batt. I want to talk to you about a boy named Coya.”
“I never heard of him. Go away and let me attend to my work.”
“Very well, if that’s the way you feel,” Nancy said, pretending to humor him. She turned as if to depart, then paused again. “By the way, Mr. Batt, did you ever recover those valuable papers you lost?”
“No, I didn’t!” the watchman snapped. “But I know what became of them all right!”
“I suppose you lost them accidentally,” Nancy said innocently.
“Lost them! I should say I didn’t. They were stolen by that no-good relative of mine. He did it to get even with me because Miss Allison gave me his job of taking care of the place. Before I came here Pete was the watchman.”
“Pete?” Nancy inquired.
“Peter Putnam,” the man replied irritably.
“Let me see, he lives near here, doesn’t he?” Nancy probed.
“Too near to suit me. His place is about twenty miles beyond Doverville. You won’t find Pete living in a regular house, though—not that fellow. He’s too stingy to build himself a decent place. He lives in an old barn that was standing on the property when he bought it.”
Nancy asked several additional questions, but Batt became suspicious that he was being pumped for information and lost all willingness to talk. The girls returned to the parked car without gleaning any new facts.
“I’d like to drive on to Peter Putnam’s place,” Nancy suggested. “That is, unless you girls are in a hurry to get home.”
“Mother won’t expect us for some time,” Bess answered. “I’m in favor of pushing on to see his queer house.”
Half an hour’s drive brought the girls within the general vicinity of the Putnam farm, and upon inquiry they were told to follow a winding, rutty lane which would lead them to their destination. The property was located nearly a mile from the main highway and consisted of a few acres of cleared land completely surrounded by dense forest.
“This must be the place,” Nancy commented, halting the car near a strange structure which resembled neither a house nor a barn.
The queer, tumble-down building originally had been painted a brick red, but now appeared to be a washed-out pink. A porch had been erected at the front and large windows were cut into the walls at uneven angles. An old silo, long since useless, adjoined the east side of the structure, while the west side supported a massive stone chimney.
“Did you ever see such a crazy looking house in all your life?” Bess giggled. “I wish I had a picture of it.”
As the girls alighted from the car, a stout, short man in black corduroy trousers, sleeveless leather jacket, and a misshapen, dirty felt hat emerged from the building. Removing a brier pipe from the corner of his mouth he demanded gruffly:
“Well, what can I do for you? I warn you before you say a word that I’ll not buy anything.”
“We have nothing to sell,” Nancy smiled. But she added shrewdly, “We might be willing to make a purchase.”
“Eggs, or a chicken?”
Nancy shook her head. “I should like to discuss a business matter with you. May I come in?”
“All right,” Peter Putnam consented gruffly, “but the place ain’t fixed up much.”
“We’ll wait outside,” Bess said hastily, speaking for herself and George.
Nancy followed the farmer into the house and tried not to stare as she noticed its dirty condition. The huge rooms were nearly barren of furniture. A cook stove, a kitchen table, and a sagging cot comprised the main pieces. Peter Putnam drew up a box, offering it to Nancy in lieu of a chair.
“What is it you’re willing to buy?” he asked eagerly.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have expressed it in just those words,” Nancy countered. “I am searching for some papers which disappeared from an old house owned by Anita Allison. I am willing to pay well to recover the documents.”
Putnam eyed the girl cunningly but he replied evasively:
“Now what should I know about any such papers? Pete Putnam tends to his own business.”
“You were the former watchman at the Allison property. I thought you might be able to help me. As I said before, I am willing to pay well to recover the documents.”
“Like as not that old rogue Jasper Batt stole ’em!”
“I think not.”
“How much are you willing to pay for the papers?” Putnam asked cannily. “Mind I’m not saying I could get ’em back for you.”
“I might pay twenty-five dollars,” Nancy offered.
As she had anticipated, the sum sounded large to the miserly farmer. His face twisted into a grimace as he tried to decide whether or not to acknowledge that the papers were in his possession.
“Well, if I learn anything about the documents I’ll let you know,” he said after a long pause.
Nancy had no intention of giving up so easily, but before she could think of a suitable response the two were startled to hear the angry barking of a dog in the yard. At the same instant Bess and George uttered a terrified scream.
Nancy rushed to the window. An ugly white and brown hound had cornered the girls near the house and with menacing snarls threatened to attack them.
“Call off your dog!” Nancy cried to Putnam. “Quickly! Before he bites Bess and George.”
Seizing a whip from a hook on the wall, the farmer ran out the door. Nancy attempted to follow, but in her haste tipped over an old coffee pot which stood on a sagging shelf near the window. It clattered to the floor and the lid fell back to reveal a white object hidden inside.
Bending down, Nancy picked up the coffee pot. She removed a thin sheath of folded paper.
“What’s this?” she thought, scarcely daring to hope that she had made an important discovery.
With trembling fingers she opened one of the papers and glanced at it. The document bore a fantastic gold seal.
“These must be the missing Allison papers!” she told herself. “What luck!”
It required but an instant to make sure. Then she thrust the precious documents into an inner jacket pocket. She replaced the coffee pot on its shelf, substituting an old letter at hand for the important papers which she had taken. Hastily she left the house.
In the meantime Putnam had driven away the hound, permitting George and Bess to escape to the automobile. Nancy joined them there, sliding quickly into the driver’s seat.
“We must get away from here at once, girls! If Putnam discovers I’ve taken the papers he’ll try to stop us!”
“The papers stolen from Jasper Batt?” Bess questioned eagerly.
Nancy nodded, triumphantly tapping her jacket pocket.
“I have the documents here. Let’s hurry to a secluded spot where we can learn what they reveal.”