Chapter 5 The Mystery of the Brass Bound Trunk by Carolyn Keene
A Bolt of Lightning
Groping about in the darkness, the picnickers stumbled upon Nancy lying in a crumpled heap on the grass.
“She’s been struck by lightning,” wailed Bess, dropping down on her knees before the unconscious girl.
“Speak to us!” sobbed George, beside herself with fear.
Nancy moved slightly, murmuring, “Where—am—I? What—happened?”
The young people were so relieved to hear their friend’s voice that they could have shouted for joy. Ned picked up the girl in his arms and carried her to the car.
“We must get a doctor right away,” urged George. “Drive as fast as you can, Ned.”
“I’m all right,” Nancy maintained weakly, trying to sit up. “I was stunned for a minute when that tree was struck. My mind is clearing now. Just take me home.”
Ned and the girls felt that she should be overruled, but Nancy won out in the end. She insisted upon returning to the Drew house. Before River Heights was reached she was much better, but all agreed that her escape from death had been miraculous.
Mr. Drew and Hannah Gruen shared the same thought when they learned of the accident. Despite Nancy’s protests, they put her to bed at once. After sleeping well throughout the night, she awakened with only a slight headache to remind her of the misadventure.
Nancy had finished eating a late breakfast and was packing a few articles into her new trunk when Hannah came upstairs to tell her she had a caller.
“It’s Senora Zola, headmistress of Laurel Hall,” whispered the housekeeper.
Nancy tossed a pair of stockings into the trunk. “Oh, dear, I was afraid of this.”
Wondering if Mrs. Joslin had succeeded in causing trouble, the girl went downstairs to meet the headmistress. A prim woman in her late thirties looked decidedly ill at ease as she took Nancy’s hand.
“I must apologize for calling in the morning,” she began nervously in a delightful low voice with a slight accent. “I really had to talk with you about your plans for the trip to Buenos Aires. I—I scarcely know how to say what is in my mind.”
“Perhaps I can help you,” said Nancy, taking pity upon the lady. “Mrs. Joslin came to see me yesterday.”
“Oh, then you know why I am here?”
“Mrs. Joslin made several mean accusations against me. No doubt she repeated them to you.”
“Yes, she did, Nancy. Needless to say, I consider her attitude very unreasonable. You can understand I am placed in a most difficult position. Nestrelda is a student in our school, and her parents are influential.”
“I quite understand, Senora Zola. Then you wish me to withdraw from the trip?”
The headmistress could not conceal her feeling of relief. “It would simplify matters if you should decide to join another group, Nancy. I realize I have no right to make such a request when the trip is only four days away. Will it greatly upset you to change?”
“I had planned on traveling aboard the Patrician,” Nancy said honestly. “Of course, I am disappointed.”
While the two sat discussing the situation, Bess and George arrived at the Drew home. Nancy immediately introduced them to the headmistress, who again reviewed Mrs. Joslin’s demand.
“I’ve never heard of such a request,” Bess declared indignantly. “Nancy is a wonderful girl and I’m sure she is as—as cultured as Mrs. Joslin’s daughter!”
“I quite agree,” the headmistress returned, smiling. “I am afraid Nestrelda’s mother is rather narrow-minded.”
“If Nancy isn’t to be allowed to make the voyage, Bess and I also will withdraw,” George announced flatly.
“I do not blame you. If you senoritas wish to take another boat, I shall be very glad to redeem the boat tickets.”
“But it is so late to change our plans now,” protested Bess.
“Yes, it is,” admitted the distressed woman. “I promised Mrs. Joslin I would speak to Nancy about the matter. However, if you young ladies feel that you cannot change to another boat, I shall not insist upon it.”
“It may cost you a great deal if we do make the trip,” stated Nancy.
Senora Zola nodded. “I haven’t told you everything. Mrs. Joslin is my half sister. For the past three years she has contributed heavily to the support of the school.”
“I see,” said Nancy. “You are placed in an awkward position.”
The caller began to pull on her gloves, avoiding the girl’s steady gaze. “When may I have your decision, Nancy?” she asked nervously.
“I’ll talk with my father and let you know early tomorrow.”
“Do tell him how sorry I am,” the headmistress murmured as the girl walked with her to the door. “I was so upset about the matter that I scarcely slept last night.”
After the woman had left, the three chums gave expression to their feelings. However, provoked as they were over the request, they could not really blame the cultured headmistress, who had come from South America to take charge of the delightful school. They liked the woman, and realized she was dominated by her half sister, whose money was needed to support Laurel Hall.
“I think it wouldn’t be much fun traveling with Nestrelda in any case,” declared George with a toss of her head “I wish we could go alone.”
“So do I,” replied Nancy soberly. “Let’s talk over the matter with our parents.”
Mr. Drew, the Marvins and the Faynes found it difficult to arrive at a decision. They agreed that the girls would have a more enjoyable trip traveling unchaperoned, yet they did not wish to send them on such a trip without an older woman in the group.
“We don’t know a person who is going to South America,” Bess said gloomily.
Thoughtfully Nancy sat stroking Snowball’s soft fur. Then suddenly she cried out:
“Oh, girls, something has just come to me! I’ve been trying and trying to figure out who might have sent this cat to me, and I believe I’ve hit upon the answer!”
“What has that to do with our present problem?” demanded George in a despairing voice.
“Why, everything! Do you remember that darling little lady from Buenos Aires whom I kept from being swindled?”
“Mrs. Purdy?” cried Bess, becoming interested. “She was crazy about cats!”
“Mrs. Purdy often said she was thinking of returning to South America on a visit after her husband died,” Nancy went on. “You recall she was born there but married a man from our country. Possibly we could induce her to travel as our chaperon.”
“She would be a very suitable person,” declared Mrs. Marvin, when she heard the suggestion. “I would not hesitate sending Bess with her. She is a most delightful person, and speaks her native tongue so beautifully.”
Since Mrs. Purdy was favored by everyone, Nancy and her chums set off at once toward the woman’s home which was located in the town of Weldon, not far from River Heights. Presently they came to a charming little vine-covered cottage at the east edge of the village.
“This must be the place,” said Bess, adding in disappointment, “The windows are boarded up. She must have gone away.”
“Mrs. Purdy was our only hope,” groaned George, her shoulders slumping. “Now what are we to do?”
Nancy climbed from the car. “Let’s inquire at the next house to make certain we have found the right place.”
A motherly woman in pink gingham, who came to the door, expressed a kindly sympathy when the girls told her why they wished to locate her neighbor.
“Now isn’t that too bad!” she murmured. “Mrs. Purdy closed up her cottage not three days ago. She went back to South America to visit her folks.”
“And to think we might have gone with her if only we had known!” exclaimed Bess, visibly wilting.
“I don’t suppose you have Mrs. Purdy’s address?” Nancy inquired after a long moment of silence.
“Why yes, I have it. She asked me to write to her. Would you care to have it?”
“Please.”
The woman disappeared into the house, returning in a moment with a slip of paper which she gave to Nancy.
“I don’t see what good her address will do us,” Bess complained listlessly as the chums got into the car. “Mrs. Purdy is probably on board ship by this time.”
“Oh, I meant to ask that woman the name of the steamer she sailed on!” Nancy exclaimed, running to the porch to correct her oversight.
After learning that the woman had traveled on the Coronda, the girl also inquired if she owned a large white cat.
“Mrs. Purdy did have one, a handsome creature,” declared the lady in the pink gingham. “She decided not to take it with her to Buenos Aires.”
“What became of the cat?” Nancy asked quickly.
“She told me she gave it to a girl who had befriended her at one time. I never did hear the young lady’s name.”
Nancy might have set the woman’s mind at rest upon that point; instead, she thanked her for the information and returned excitedly to her waiting chums.
“Now we’re going to the nearest telegraph office,” she told them cheerfully. “It may be a waste of good money, but I intend to send a radiogram to Mrs. Purdy’s ship.”
“Asking her to come back home?” asked Bess teasingly.
“We’ll request her to serve as our chaperon after we reach Buenos Aires. Maybe she’ll do it, and if she should consent, our parents surely won’t object to our traveling alone.”
“That’s a wonderful idea, Nancy!” said George with sudden approval.
At the Weldon telegraph office another customer stood in line ahead of the girls. They were compelled to wait until he had written his message as he was using the only available pencil. To their annoyance he seemed unable to make up his mind what he wished to say. Finally he tore off the sheet from the pad and tossed it carelessly toward the waste basket. The paper missed its mark, but the man did not notice this as he busied himself with writing a second message.
“We’ll be here all day,” Bess sighed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
Nancy could not see the man’s face clearly, for it was half hidden beneath a wide-brimmed felt hat. She had a feeling that she had met him before somewhere. Without glancing toward the girls, he shoved his completed message and a crisp bill across the desk, then left the building.
“Thank goodness,” sighed Bess. “Now it’s our turn to use the pencil.”
To the surprise of her chums Nancy crossed to the waste basket and picked up from the floor the piece of paper dropped by the stranger. As she started to throw it into the nearby receptacle, she noticed the message written on the sheet. A strange expression came over her face.
“What’s the matter?” inquired George, moving quickly to her chum’s side.
“Just read this,” said Nancy in awe.
“ ‘Drew La Plata Saturday.’ Now what can that mean with my name in it?”