Chapter 20 The Clue of the Tapping Heels by Carolyn Keene
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The taxi stopped at a nearby store where there was a public telephone. Nancy went in and placed a call to the Keely home in River Heights. The detective’s wife answered, saying her husband was not in the city.
“Where shall I be able to reach him?” Nancy inquired anxiously. “It is very important.”
“Dear me, I don’t know how you’ll get him now,” Mrs. Keely returned. “Stephan took the late train for New York. He received a tip that Mr. Fred Bunce was on his way there and set out to catch him.”
“Fred Bunce is here in New York,” Nancy revealed. “I have located his address and that is why it is so important that I contact your husband.”
“He’ll reach New York early tomorrow morning—I think the train arrives about seven o’clock but I’m not sure. You might be able to catch him at the station.”
“I’ll try that,” Nancy declared. “Thank you, Mrs. Keely.”
Nancy hung up the receiver and hurried back to the waiting taxi to report the conversation.
“Next I’d like to verify the time of arrival of Mr. Keely’s train,” she told Mrs. Miller. “Would it be out of the way to drive past the railroad station?”
“Not at all. It’s right on our route home.”
Nancy was told that the train was due to arrive in New York at exactly seven-twenty-two the next morning.
“That means we must get up with the birds,” Bess said ruefully.
“We have to make it on time,” Nancy declared. “But there’s no reason for you or George to miss your sleep. I can go to the station alone.”
“Oh, it will do us good to get up early,” George laughed. “We’ll retire just as soon as we reach the apartment.”
Nancy did not sleep well that night. She kept tossing on her pillow, thinking over the entire Bunce episode. She was so restless that she arose before five o’clock, dressed in her favorite blue suit, and had breakfast waiting before it was time to awaken her chums.
“Aren’t you rushing things a bit?” Bess complained good-naturedly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “It’s only six o’clock now and the train isn’t due for over an hour!”
“I started breakfast before I realized it was so early,” Nancy apologized. Then with a laugh she added, “I didn’t want to waste the food so I thought I ought to get you girls up!”
“That was very considerate of you, I must say,” George grumbled, but she grinned as she bounded from bed.
The girls moved about the house quietly so as not to disturb Mrs. Miller, who was sleeping. George and Bess noticed that Nancy seemed unusually animated as she sat down at the breakfast table.
“You act as if you had an important secret,” Bess remarked, “but I’m sure you couldn’t have learned anything new about the Bunce case since last night.”
“How can you be sure?” Nancy teased, her blue eyes dancing.
“Because you’ve been in the house all night.”
“I have a surprise for you just the same. I did learn something about Fred Bunce, something which will amaze you.”
“But you’ve not been away from the apartment,” George protested. “Or have you?”
Nancy shook her head.
“I couldn’t sleep last night so I did a little heavy thinking. Early this morning I telephoned the Riverside Home.”
“The place where poor little Gus Woonton died?” Bess inquired quickly.
“I succeeded in reaching Superintendent Johnson. You remember his name was signed to the telegram Miss Carter received.”
“Yes,” George nodded.
“Well, Mr. Johnson never sent the wire at all.”
“What!” exclaimed Bess Marvin, a shocked look in her eyes. “You don’t mean to tell me that Gus Woonton is still alive!”
“Mr. Johnson believes that he is, though he has no idea where the boy can be found at the present time.”
“You’re talking in riddles, Nancy,” George said impatiently. “What became of the lad?”
“Mr. Bunce, or at least someone who gave that name, came one day to the institution. He told Superintendent Johnson that as the legal guardian of the boy he intended to take him away.”
“And they allowed him to do it?” Bess demanded in amazement.
“Not just then. But it seems that Mr. Johnson was called out of the city for a few days. During his absence Gussie disappeared and it was believed that he had gone with his guardian.”
“Who sent such a dreadful telegram then?” asked Bess in awe.
“I believe Bunce did. He was fearful that they might investigate the Woonton affairs.”
“No wonder he was so willing to take charge of the funeral arrangements!” George commented dryly, recalling his conversation at Miss Carter’s home.
“It’s all a mix-up,” Nancy said thoughtfully, “and I don’t pretend to understand what is going on. But it’s perfectly obvious that Fred Bunce is more of a rascal than anyone suspected.”
“I wonder what he has done with the boy?” Bess mused.
“That is what I should like to learn myself,” said Nancy. “There is a pathetic angle to Gussie’s disappearance. Superintendent Johnson told me the institution doctors were of the opinion that a very delicate and expensive operation would restore the boy’s mind to normalcy.”
“You may be sure Mr. Bunce will never spend a cent for medical care!” George said feelingly.
“No, he means to use the boy for his own ends, probably keeping him hidden in some garret. If only we could find Gussie and give him a chance in the world!”
“Perhaps we can,” Bess said with determination. “Detective Keely should be able to bring about Mr. Bunce’s arrest.”
“Even so, that may not produce Gussie,” Nancy replied, looking worried.
It was growing late so the girls hastily stacked their dishes in the sink and prepared to leave the apartment. Reaching the railroad station ten minutes before train time, they walked about the big waiting room. Presently they took up their positions at one of the gates.
“We can’t possibly miss Mr. Keely if he is on the train,” Bess declared confidently. “He’ll have to pass this way.”
In a few minutes passengers began to stream through the gate. Eagerly the girls scanned each person but could see no one who resembled the detective.
“Nearly all the people are off the train,” Nancy observed in dismay. “Oh, I’m afraid he didn’t come.”
“Now what shall we do?” Bess murmured.
At that moment a tall man with shell-rimmed glasses and wearing a brown felt hat pulled low over his eyes walked toward the girls. Not until he smiled and spoke did Nancy or her chums recognize him.
“Are you looking for someone?” he inquired, a merry twinkle in his eyes.
“Detective Keely!” Nancy exclaimed. “No wonder we didn’t recognize you!”
“I take it that my disguise is a fairly good one,” laughed the man. “I’ll put it on so that if Fred Bunce were on the train he wouldn’t recognize me.”
“It’s a wonder we didn’t miss you,” Nancy said. “If you hadn’t introduced yourself I’m sure none of us would have known you.”
“My wife sent me a telegram aboard the train, saying that you want to see me.”
“Yes, we’ve learned some important facts,” Nancy returned. “Let’s go to a quiet place where we can talk.”
“I thought I had a good tip that would lead to Bunce’s capture,” the detective remarked as he led the girls to a vacant corner of the station. “I had every reason to believe that he would be on this train, but it didn’t turn out that way. The fellow gave me the slip somehow.”
“Part of your information was correct,” Nancy told him eagerly. “Fred Bunce is here in New York, but he must have taken an earlier train to the city.”
“You’ve seen him here?” Mr. Keely questioned.
“Yes, at a restaurant. We followed him to the Windham Hotel where he is staying with Mrs. Bunce. They plan to sail for South America early next week.”
“That’s splendid work,” complimented Mr. Keely. Then he tapped an inner coat pocket. “This time I am armed with a warrant for the man’s arrest,” he announced grimly. “I have the papers right here.”
“You should be able to catch him at the Windham Hotel,” Nancy said. “I think he doesn’t suspect that his address is known.”
“You’ve done a neat bit of detective work,” Mr. Keely praised again. “Bunce is more of a scoundrel than anyone believed.”
“Have you learned anything new about him?” Nancy questioned.
“I’ve been digging up facts for days. The authorities are after him for smuggling in aliens from South America. There are several other charges too, all of them serious.”
“I can add another to the list,” Nancy declared. “We’ve just found out that Gussie Woonton probably isn’t dead. Probably Bunce went to the Riverside Home and took the boy away.”
The detective whistled softly.
“That adds a new angle to the case. That man is a sly one, all right.”
Mr. Keely asked the girls a number of questions and commended them again for their sleuthing ability.
“I must be getting over to the Windham Hotel,” he said hurriedly. “From now on I intend to trail Fred Bunce like a bloodhound. I’ll notify you as soon as I make the arrest.”
Nancy gave the detective her address, and they parted company.
“Where shall we go now?” George asked, glancing at a wall clock.
“I’d like to buy a new hat,” Bess ventured hopefully. “My old one is as limp as a rag.”
Nancy glanced at her chums in surprise. “The stores aren’t open yet. Anyway we’ll have no time for shopping this morning,” she declared. “Don’t you remember Mr. St. Will said he would call at the apartment?”