Chapter 2 The Whispering Statue by Carolyn Keene
A STRANGE RESEMBLANCE
Mrs. Owen was too excited and nervous to have any definite idea about what could be done to recover the lost pocketbook. She dared not leave the stand to aid in the search, for in a very few minutes it would be time for her to speak. How much of her speech she could remember without notes she could not guess.
It was Nancy who hastened to find park workmen. She pushed her way through the crowds, closely followed by several officials.
“There’s not a chance we can find the handbag before the ceremonies begin,” one of the men murmured. “It would be useless to try.”
Nancy did not bother to answer. Instead, she darted into a nearby building obviously used for housing park equipment. Fortune favored her, for she found two men inside who were cleaning their tools. Tersely she told them about the lost pocketbook, earnestly requesting that they help her recover it from the bottom of the lake.
“Not much chance of getting it, I’m afraid,” one of the workmen responded as he went on scraping dirt from a spade. “It would take half a day to drag the lake, and even then the purse might not be found.”
“But I know exactly where it went down,” Nancy insisted, becoming just slightly excited. “You don’t understand—it’s very important that I recover the pocketbook within a few minutes.”
Then, although valuable time was being consumed, she explained that the missing bag contained not only Mrs. Owen’s notes but a gift as well.
“If you noticed just where the purse fell, we might get it out,” the older of the two workmen said, his attitude undergoing a sudden change. “But I doubt if it can be done before the ceremony starts.”
“Oh, we must have it before then,” Nancy murmured. “Please try.”
“We’ll do the best we can.”
The men then moved with alacrity, hauling out equipment which had been used the previous day to dredge leaves and debris from the lake bed. While they were loading it into a rowboat at the water’s edge, Nancy hastened on ahead to the place where George and Bess were waiting. True to their friend’s command, they had kept their eyes glued upon the spot where Togo had dropped the pocketbook.
“I believe we’ll salvage the purse after all,” Nancy told her chums triumphantly. “Workmen are coming with a boat. Oh, why are they so slow?”
Anxiously she glanced up the shore and then peered nervously at her wrist watch. How swiftly the minutes were slipping away, and every second was precious.
As a band stationed near the stands started to play, George gasped in dismay, “The ceremonies are beginning!”
Nancy nodded soberly. “If the workmen don’t find the handbag in time and Mrs. Owen should fail in her speech, I’ll feel that it is my fault.”
It was typical of Nancy Drew to blame herself, although many times no other person would think of considering her responsible. Certainly she could not be charged with Togo’s wild prank. Ever conscientious and sympathetic, Nancy enjoyed lending a helping hand to anyone in trouble. This admirable trait frequently brought difficulties upon herself, and many an adventure had resulted from her desire to aid strangers.
Recently, in attempting to befriend a small lad from India who had escaped from a cruel circus-master, Nancy had become the possessor of an odd elephant charm, a trinket which indirectly brought about a series of remarkable adventures, known as “The Mystery of the Ivory Charm.”
The girl had come quite naturally by her love of adventure, for she was the daughter of Carson Drew, a well known criminal lawyer who had won state-wide renown through his ability to solve baffling mysteries. Nancy inherited his sleuthing ability, and it was through her father that she had secured her first successful “case,” one which concerned an old clock.
After her first thrilling plunge into the fascinating field of mystery and intrigue, one adventure followed another in rapid succession. As Hannah Gruen, the family housekeeper, often remarked, “Nancy just couldn’t be held down.” Even Carson Drew sometimes feared that his only daughter’s love for adventure might some day lead her into serious trouble.
Although courageous, the girl never was recklessly so, for, left motherless at an early age, she had developed amazing judgment. This quality was recognized and respected by the girl’s many friends and classmates at River Heights. Bess and George, who lived in the same neighborhood, were proud of their chum, and liked to say that they had shared in some of her exciting experiences.
“When you’re with Nancy interesting things always seem to happen,” George frequently declared. Now, as she and Bess waited for the park workmen to come with their boat, they felt like voicing the sentiment again.
“Oh, they’re here at last!” Nancy cried in relief as she glimpsed the approaching craft.
From the bank of the lake she gave directions, indicating exactly where the men were to drag for the lost pocketbook. Nancy and her chums were so occupied that not until a fairly large crowd had gathered did they realize that their activities were attracting attention.
“What has happened?” a woman asked Nancy, plucking at her sleeve. “Has someone gone down in the lake?”
The girl shook her head, for she had no time in which to answer questions or offer a lengthy explanation. Other persons gathered along the shore, and soon many of them were saying that a child had been drowned.
“No, no, we’re trying to recover a pocketbook,” Bess corrected, but only a few persons were close enough to hear her.
As the search went on, the crowd grew in size until the girls feared that someone would be pushed into the water. Time after time they requested persons to move back, but always those behind surged forward again.
Nancy felt someone touch her arm. Turning a trifle impatiently, she found herself face to face with a tried and true friend, Ned Nickerson, who looked worried.
“Anything wrong?” he inquired. “Can I be of any help?”
“Oh, Ned, try to keep these people back,” said Nancy gratefully. “Tell them no one has been drowned.”
Ned did not annoy the girls with any useless questions. He ordered the crowd to move back, and his voice had a ring of authority which caused people to obey. Just then a policeman came hurrying up to aid the young man in his task.
“Oh, they’ve found it!” Nancy cried suddenly, as one of the boatmen held an object aloft. “The bag has been brought up!”
A moment later the water-soaked purse was placed in her hands.
“Oh, thank you for all your trouble,” the Drew girl murmured gratefully. With a quick glance at her wrist watch she pushed through the crowd, then started to run toward the stands where Mrs. Owen was awaiting her.
Bess and George explained the need of haste to Ned, and the three followed their friend at a more dignified pace. They quickly lost sight of her in the throng which milled near the stands, but knew that they would find her later.
Unmindful of an arrogant usher who tried to block her path, Nancy slipped past him directly up to the speakers’ stand where Mrs. Owen was sitting. The woman’s face brightened as she observed the girl’s approach. Without disturbing any of the officials who were in the box, Mrs. Owen joined Nancy directly behind the wooden structure where they were out of sight from the audience.
“Oh, you wonderful girl! You recovered my notes, my money, and my gift!”
Eagerly Mrs. Owen took the purse, but as she removed the water-soaked papers a look of horror returned to her face. The writing had been partially washed away, and the papers threatened to tear at the touch of a finger.
“Oh, I’m afraid they’re ruined after all,” the clubwoman murmured. “What shall I do? I can’t take these dripping papers into the speakers’ box, and I must have them.”
For a moment Nancy feared all her haste had been in vain. Then, recalling that she had glimpsed an electric heater at a food stand near by, it occurred to her that it might be possible to dry out the papers.
“How much time will there be before you speak?” she questioned tersely.
“Only five minutes.” Mrs. Owen glanced toward the speaker’s box. “But that politician who is talking now may run on for a while.”
“He sounds as if he would,” Nancy nodded with a smile. “I think we’ll have time to dry these papers across the way.”
The attendant at the stand was only too glad to give Mrs. Owen and Nancy the use of the electric heater. Quickly they emptied the handbag, spreading out all the notes as well as other papers.
Nancy could not fail to notice that one of the items was a neatly clipped “personal” taken from a newspaper. Before it occurred to her that such an act might be prying, she had read the brief advertisement.
“Rexy, come home. All is forgiven. Alice.”
Nancy frequently had seen similar items in papers, but it struck her as unusual that a woman of Mrs. Owen’s type should be interested in such a clipping. Had the woman herself inserted the appeal, or did it concern some acquaintance of hers?
The Drew girl knew that in any case it was none of her affair. She had no time even to consider the matter, for the papers were nearly dry. Mrs. Owen hastily gathered them up, taking care to replace the “personal” item in her pocket.
“Oh, dear, everything has upset me so, I’m certain I shall make a dismal failure of this talk,” she murmured nervously. “I can’t read half of what I’ve written.”
“Perhaps I can help you,” Nancy suggested kindly. “Try saying your speech over to me while I look at the notes. I’ll prompt you.”
Mrs. Owen was able to give most of the talk without hesitation, and faltered at only a few places. Nancy listened intently, nodded encouragingly, and at the close thrust the notes back into the clubwoman’s trembling hand.
“You did splendidly, Mrs. Owen. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble. And now I think you should hurry back, for the politician is just finishing.”
“I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done,” Mrs. Owen murmured as she turned away. “I’ll see you after the ceremonies—if I haven’t collapsed by that time.”
Not without misgivings, Nancy watched the woman make her way to the platform. The girl looked about for a place to sit. Every seat was occupied, but she was able to station herself by a pillar barely a dozen feet from the speakers’ box.
Scarcely had she taken her post when Mrs. Owen was introduced. Outwardly the woman appeared composed, but Nancy could tell that she was still nervous.
The speaker began well, consulting her notes only at infrequent intervals. Nancy relaxed somewhat, and then, just as she felt that all would be smooth sailing, the woman faltered. She peered down at the words before her, seemingly unable to read them.
Like a flash the words which should come next entered Nancy’s mind. She whispered them just loud enough for Mrs. Owen to hear. The woman understood, and taking heart, went on with her speech. Once toward the end she nearly broke down, but was aided by Nancy’s timely prompting. Finally she presented the gift, and as she finished, was greeted by a generous amount of handclapping.
Since Nancy had no seat she soon grew tired of standing by the stone pillar, and moved away. As she was wandering toward one of the refreshment stands, she was joined by Ned and her chums who had sighted her from afar.
“Mrs. Owen didn’t do half badly,” Bess laughed. “I thought for a minute that she couldn’t read her notes, and my heart leaped right up in my throat.”
“So did mine,” Nancy confessed with a chuckle. She did not detract from Mrs. Owen’s speech by revealing how she had aided the clubwoman.
“I’ve had enough of speeches,” Ned broke into the conversation. “Let’s go over to the casino and have some ice cream.”
The girls quickly accepted the invitation, and presently all were enjoying refreshments in the exclusive amusement building. Afterwards the young people indulged in a few of the games, and Nancy was delighted when her bowling score won a prize.
“A box of stationery,” Bess observed as the package was unwrapped.
“I don’t know what I’ll do with it,” Nancy replied. “I seldom have time to write letters any more.”
“Oh, you’ll have plenty of leisure time during your vacation,” George responded carelessly.
“Vacation?” Ned inquired quickly. “Are you going away, Nancy?”
“Only for a few weeks, Ned. Dad has a little business to transact at Sea Cliff, so he said I could go along and take Bess and George with me.”
“Sea Cliff?” Ned repeated thoughtfully. “That’s on the Atlantic Coast, isn’t it? I wish I could get there myself.”
Before the girls could make a response, Mrs. Owen came hastening toward them. The dedication exercises had ended some minutes earlier and the crowd was dispersing.
“Oh, here you are,” the clubwoman cried, addressing Nancy. “I searched everywhere for you. I want to tell you how wonderful you were to help me through my speech, and I’d like to know your name.”
“Nancy Drew.”
“Why, I’ve heard of you,” Mrs. Owen replied in astonishment. “Of course, I know your father by reputation. I should have failed completely today if you hadn’t prompted me.”
“I was afraid you might not be able to hear me whisper.”
“Oh, I did, very distinctly, yet I am confident the audience didn’t catch on. Miss Drew, as you sat crouched there by the stone pillar, your pose was most arresting.”
“My pose?” Nancy asked, slightly bewildered.
“Yes, even in my frantic state of mind I noticed it instantly. You reminded me of a marble statue I once saw which was called ‘The Whispering Girl.’ Tell me, did you ever do any modeling for a sculptor?”
“Oh, no,” Nancy answered, somewhat embarrassed because she saw that Ned and her chums were deeply impressed by the comparison Mrs. Owen had made. “Where is this statue, may I ask?”
The clubwoman’s response was a surprising one.
“It is located at a place called Old Estate. I saw it years ago when I was visiting in Sea Cliff.”