Chapter 12 The Clue of the Tapping Heels by Carolyn Keene
Temple of the Stars
The two men entered the Egyptian Temple of the Stars.
“I wonder what kind of a fortune-telling place it is,” said Nancy to George. “I’d like to follow those two, but—”
“The place is all right,” replied her chum. “I was talking the other day to a girl who had been there with her mother. I’d like to learn something of my own mysterious future. I’ll go inside with you. Only it may cost a good bit.”
“I have five dollars,” Nancy told her. “That should be enough.”
“I have some too,” added George.
Eagerly Nancy led the way across the street. A small card tacked conspicuously on the door read:
“The public invited.”
The Drew girl reached up and pressed the doorbell. Almost at once a young woman with painted lips and wearing an elaborate Egyptian costume let them in. She glanced at the pair haughtily, then requested them to follow her.
Nancy and George gazed about with interest at the room in which they presently found themselves. It was decorated richly with gold and silver hangings, but the draperies looked old. The air was close and heavy with incense.
The Egyptian maid led the girls to a table in one corner of the room. Then she disappeared into an alcove.
“What are we supposed to do now?” asked George in bewilderment.
“I imagine a meal of rice and dates will be served to us,” Nancy replied with a suppressed giggle. She added in a whisper, “I’d like to know what became of Penello and that colored man.”
“Now that we’re alone, please tell me what you suspect,” said George.
Before replying, Nancy took from her chum a newspaper the girl had been carrying. It was an extra edition with huge headlines and an article about the boat disaster. Nancy confirmed that no lives had been lost in the collision. Her own name was mentioned in the story as a courageous girl who had assisted in the rescue work, and also had saved the commander of the vessel from drowning.
In another column a brief notation said there would be an official inquiry into the cause of the accident within a few weeks. The general belief was that Captain Staff had been negligent.
“The blame probably will be laid on him,” Nancy whispered to George, pointing to the paragraph in question. “I feel sorry for him, and I’m sure that the accident was not his fault.”
In guarded tones she explained to George the unpleasant episode she had witnessed on the Goodtime between the captain and Penello.
“The man will bear watching,” she concluded. “If he is in a talkative mood, he may reveal some damaging evidence. I wish I could find him. I wonder where he went. And the colored fellow, too.”
“Do you believe the freckle-faced one is the same person who came to your house looking for work?” asked George.
Nancy dared say no more, for the haughty maid returned bearing a tray. She served the girls with a watery looking soup and disappeared again.
“I can’t eat this,” George said in a low tone after taking one spoonful. “I’m sorry for the Egyptians if they have to eat food like this!”
“I’m inclined to think that this place isn’t as prosperous as it pretends to be,” was Nancy’s guess.
The next course was no better. With dessert of a few pieces of fruit covered with many leaves there came a bill for three dollars. The girls felt they had been overcharged, but Nancy paid the sum without protest.
“Now would you like to see the mystic shrine and the Fountain of Youth?” inquired the Egyptian maid.
“How much will that cost?” Nancy asked cautiously.
“Oh, there is no charge, Miss,” the girl said in a mysterious voice.
She drew aside the velvet curtains from an alcove, revealing an imitation gold altar. Nancy and George pretended to be impressed with what they saw.
The Fountain of Youth consisted of a gold basin from which flowed a tiny stream of water. Nancy and George were told that if they would drink from these waters they would be assured of everlasting youth. They might have one sip for fifty cents.
“I think I’ll wait,” Nancy said. “I’d rather spend my money having my palm read.”
“We do not tell fortunes that way here,” replied the Egyptian girl with a slight sneer. “Our astrologer Omar might consent to read the stars for you if you pay him a suitable fee.”
“Lead us to Omar,” George said jokingly.
“You must wait,” returned the maid aloofly. “He is busy now.”
She waved Nancy and George into chairs, then disappeared again. Apparently the girl had gone to make a report to Omar.
“I’ll venture to say the astrologer is busy with Penello or the colored man,” Nancy whispered. “I wish we could find out what is going on here.”
“We’ve discovered nothing so far, that’s certain.”
“Let’s do a little investigating, George. If we’re caught they won’t do any more than put us out of the establishment.”
Nancy, with her chum close beside her, tiptoed across the room, and parted the curtains which screened a long corridor. As no one was in sight, the girls moved stealthily down the hallway.
They could hear the low murmur of voices. Walking toward the sound, they came to another curtained alcove. Cautiously Nancy parted the draperies a tiny crack. The doorway was barred by an iron grillwork, but beyond she could see a dimly-lighted, heavily-draped room.
A dark-skinned man who wore a long robe and had a white turban on his head sat on a raised gold platform. He must be Omar! In low, monotonous tones he was speaking to a man who stood before him.
“That sailor is Bart Penello!” Nancy whispered excitedly to George.
In her eagerness to hear what was being said she squeezed through the bars, George following her. The girls were still hidden from view by a screen of tropical plants, but were close enough to catch every word which was spoken in the fortune telling room.
“This is a queer place,” George murmured in an undertone. “The incense is so strong it’s almost sickening!”
Everywhere about them the girls saw metal containers from which heavy smoke issued. They correctly guessed that powder was being burned which provided the incense odor for the entire Temple.
Nancy glanced carelessly at the smoking pots, then moved closer to the screen of tropical plants. She could hear Penello speaking.
“I have one more question to ask, Omar,” the man was saying. “It’s about the accident to the Goodtime. Is there any chance that the authorities will trace——”
George tugged at Nancy’s sleeve.
“Let’s get out of here,” the girl pleaded. “I feel sick.”
“In a minute,” Nancy whispered impatiently. “I must hear what Penello is saying.”
“Please, let’s—go,” George implored. “I feel—drugged.”
She slumped down on the floor. Terrified, Nancy tried to rouse her chum. For the first time she realized that she too was feeling drowsy. If only she could get her friend out into the air——
That thought was the last thing she remembered. Dropping over beside George, Nancy fell into a sound sleep. In the adjoining room Omar finished telling the sailor’s fortune. Then he called the Egyptian maid.
“Where are those two girls who were waiting?” he asked her. “Bring them in.”
“I’m afraid they became tired and left,” the waitress told him. “I can’t find them anywhere.”
“It was your business to see that they waited!” Omar said angrily. “We need every dollar we can get.”
“I’ll say we do,” the girl replied slangily. Had Nancy been conscious, she would have noted at once that the speaker was not an Egyptian at all, but a very ordinary native of River Heights. “The landlord was here again,” the maid continued.
“What did you tell him?” asked the man uneasily.
“I said you’d have the rent money for him in a few days. He promised to give you until Friday. If you don’t pay him three hundred dollars by then, out we go.”
“We’ll have to get the cash somehow,” Omar muttered. “This racket is playing out. I must think up something new. How much did we take in today?”
“The money is all in the cash register. It won’t amount to eighteen dollars.”
“Worse and worse,” Omar complained. “And then you let two of our customers get away.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” the girl whined. “You blame me for everything. I don’t know why I work for you because you never give me my pay. If I should tell the police what I know——”
“There, now, I was only joking,” the man said hastily. “You’re a good scout. Forget what I said to you. I didn’t mean a word of it.”
After the girl had gone, Omar stripped off his turban and ceremonial robes, and dressed himself in street clothes. He then counted the money taken in during the day, but looked disappointed in the amount, which was smaller by far than he was accustomed to receiving.
“By the time I’ve paid my expenses I’ll have nothing left,” he muttered to himself. “Incense costs a lot, and that worthless maid always forgets to smother the pots.”
The man turned toward the incense room, aware that the odor from the burners was stronger than usual. As he stepped inside he stopped short. Two girls were lying face downward on the floor.
“Now what?” Omar exclaimed in dismay. “How did they get here?”
He hastily smothered the smoking pots and then tried to rouse the sleeping girls. Time after time he shook them. It was useless.