Chapter 2 The Clue of the Tapping Heels by Carolyn Keene
Trouble
The group of irate men gathered by the porch. As Nancy and her chums came outside, Mr. Silbert stepped forward.
“Tell Miss Carter we want to talk to her,” he said curtly.
“She’s not able to see you just now,” Nancy replied severely. “She injured herself when she fell down the porch steps.”
“That was her fault for being so obstinate,” Mr. Silbert declared without sympathy. “I tell you we can’t tolerate these cats another day. It’s up to you to do something about them or we’ll take up the matter with the law.”
“I can understand that so many cats might create a nuisance,” Nancy said evenly. “I know Miss Carter is planning to have their big cage mended. I’ll tell her what you say. Of course, my friends and I can’t do anything about it ourselves.”
“Aren’t you her nieces?” Jed Silbert demanded bluntly.
Before Nancy or her chums could answer, a red-faced man with a slightly hooked nose broke into the conversation.
“We know Miss Carter really isn’t hurt,” he said. “She’s too cowardly to face us.”
“I am telling you the truth,” Nancy said quietly. “Miss Carter is lying down.”
“She’s always making excuses about things,” the man said irritably. “She won’t ever answer questions. She’s afraid to tell what became of Gus Woonton!”
“Gus Woonton?” Nancy asked. “Who is he?”
“A poor, simple-minded lad who disappeared mysteriously. Miss Carter pretended to take a deep interest in him.”
“Well, that’s your affair, Bunce,” said Mr. Silbert. “It’s high time Miss Carter clears up a number of things,” he added, pushing forward. “Come on, men! If she insists upon hiding in the house I suppose we’ll have to go inside to see her!”
Nancy, George, and Bess were pushed aside as the group crowded past them into the living room. Miss Carter, who was reclining on a sofa, painfully drew herself up to a sitting position.
“Will you explain the meaning of this intrusion?” she asked haughtily. “By what right do you enter my home uninvited?”
“Never mind the dramatics,” the man named Bunce cut in unpleasantly. “Just tell us what you intend to do about the cats.”
“I’ve already given you my answer. I shall keep every one of my pets.”
“Then you compel us to go to law,” Mr. Silbert told her. “And I warn you we may bring up Gus Woonton’s case, too.”
“What has he to do with this matter?” Miss Carter asked sharply.
“Fred Bunce tells us that you know what became of the boy.”
“Certainly I do.” Miss Carter’s blue eyes flashed. “And so does Mr. Bunce!”
All the group looked toward the hooked-nosed man, who became somewhat confused. Before he needed to speak a uniformed messenger boy appeared at the door, announcing that he had a telegram for Miss Carter. Nancy carried the message to the woman, who signed for it.
“Oh, dear, I’m afraid to read the telegram,” she declared nervously. “I feel certain someone has died. Please open it for me.”
Nancy by nature was friendly and helpful, and this was not the first time that persons in trouble had appealed to her for assistance. In fact, her deep desire to be of aid to others sometimes involved the girl in perplexing situations.
At sixteen she had enjoyed an unusual career as an amateur detective. She was the only daughter of Carson Drew, a famous criminal lawyer who specialized in solving mystery cases. Since the death of her mother, she had been very close to her father. Resourceful and alert, she had aided him in tracking down elusive clues, and finally had launched forth on her own account by solving a case she called “The Secret of the Old Clock.”
Nancy’s detective ability soon became the talk and pride of River Heights, but achieving fame did not turn her head. She made a point of asking her chums, Bess Marvin and George Fayne, to share her adventures. The girls liked to recall visits to such interesting places as Red Gate Farm, Shadow Ranch, and Larkspur Lane.
Nancy enjoyed all types of games, particularly golf. In recent months her ability in this sport had resulted in the winning of a championship, and in addition had plunged her into a most absorbing mystery.
While searching for a lost golf ball she had chanced to visit the vicinity of the Haunted Bridge, and immediately determined to learn the true explanation for the ghostly figure which was said to frequent the locality. After an exciting meeting with the spectre Nancy did succeed in her purpose, and her efforts likewise solved a mystery and brought happiness to several people.
As the Drew girl now scanned the telegram to Miss Carter her one thought was to be of aid to the anxious woman. “Shall I read the message aloud?” she inquired doubtfully.
“Please do,” requested the spinster, her hands trembling.
“The telegram is signed by Superintendent Johnson of the Riverside Home,” Nancy revealed. “It says, ‘Gus Woonton died at ten today.’ ”
“Didn’t I tell you?” demanded Fred Bunce in a bitter tone. “She had the boy put away, and now, thanks to her, he’s dead.”
Miss Carter turned slowly toward the man and her gaze swept him scornfully.
“Mr. Bunce, you force me to expose you to your neighbors. The lad originally was under your care but you proved to be a cruel, heartless guardian. You neglected him shamefully, so he came to me begging for food. I admit that I was responsible for sending poor Gus to the institution. I have paid his board there, because I couldn’t bear to see him mistreated.”
“You’re responsible for hastening his death,” Mr. Bunce again accused the woman.
“I don’t see how you can say that,” Nancy said reprovingly. “It seems to me Miss Carter was very generous to pay for the boy’s care at the institution. I am sure you’d not find many neighbors so kind-hearted.”
The man paid no attention to the remark.
“Rest assured I’ll investigate the boy’s death,” he told Miss Carter angrily. “You’ll be called into court to give an accounting!”
“The Riverside Home is a highly recommended institution,” Miss Carter insisted, her voice breaking. “I feel very bad about the boy’s death, but it was in no way my fault. Gus was never in good health.”
Bess moved to the woman’s side protectingly. She and George both felt that Mr. Bunce had no right to upset the woman with such serious accusations. They correctly suspected that he was merely trying to build up ill feeling toward her among the neighbors to cover up his own neglect of the boy. Nancy too had grown indignant, so that when Miss Carter began to weep she found it impossible not to sympathize with her.
“Don’t worry,” the girl said comfortingly. “I’m sure you’re in no way to blame. If you need legal advice my father will give it to you without any expense on your part.”
“Will you please keep out of this?” Mr. Bunce asked cuttingly. “Your help has not been requested.”
“I can’t expect anyone to fight my battles for me,” Miss Carter said tearfully. “It is good of you to offer assistance, you dear girl, and I appreciate it more than I can tell you. But it isn’t right to involve you in this affair.”
“I really wish to help you,” Nancy insisted. “I’m certain my father will feel the same way.”
“And who is this wonderful father of yours?” Mr. Bunce asked scornfully.
“His name is Carson Drew,” the lawyer’s daughter answered quietly.
The girl found it difficult not to smile, for Fred Bunce appeared stunned when he heard her words. Only too well did he know the reputation the attorney had earned throughout the state.
“Perhaps I spoke too hastily,” he said uneasily. “I—I think I shall go home now.”
“You mean that you withdraw your absurd charges against Miss Carter?” Nancy questioned.