Chapter 12 The Mystery of the Brass Bound Trunk by Carolyn Keene
Familiar Voices
Nancy was not left in doubt long regarding the identity of the persons in the hotel room. A porter soon came down the hall and rapped on the door. As he was admitted, the Drew girl caught a glimpse of Mrs. Trenton sitting on the bed. Her daughter, Doris, indicated the handluggage which the boy was to take with him.
It occurred to Nancy that the red-haired man might be in the room also, so she waited. In a moment the porter came out with the luggage, followed by the two women. Mrs. Trenton drew in her breath as she saw Nancy, and barely inclined her head in token of recognition.
Doris avoided looking directly at Nancy. She responded to the greeting in a nervous manner. Without pausing to chat, the two women followed the porter down the hallway.
The room door had been left open. Nancy waited until Doris and her mother were out of sight, then looked inside. The room was in disorder but quite empty.
“No one here,” the girl said in disappointment.
Howard Brady regarded her curiously. “Did you expect to find someone?”
“Well, I didn’t know. Doris is acquainted with that red-haired man we were after.”
“We seem to have lost him,” the young fellow replied. “If you’re expecting to catch your boat, I’m afraid we’ll have to give up the chase.”
“Yes, my friends will be worried, no doubt.”
Nancy saw no sign of either Mrs. Trenton or her daughter in the hotel lobby. She and Howard went to their waiting taxi and a short time later drew up at the dock where the Patrician was being loaded.
“Thank goodness, you’re back at last!” cried Bess, running to meet her chum. “You nearly gave us heart failure, running off the way you did.”
“I knew I had plenty of time, so I took the chance.”
“Maybe you did, but how were we to know?” demanded George, joining the group. “We’ve been worried sick for fear you would miss the boat. And all because you wished to give away fifty dollars!”
“I didn’t succeed, at any rate,” Nancy said ruefully. “We traced the man to a hotel but lost him.”
“Let’s get Nancy on the boat before she decides to go off on any other wild trips,” spoke Ned a trifle crossly.
The girls showed their tickets and passports, then all the members of the party were permitted to board the Patrician. A steward led the way to an attractive cabin on A deck. He opened the windows to let in fresh air and unlocked the door to a connecting bath.
“Isn’t this wonderful!” cried George.
“Our friends didn’t forget us, either,” said Bess, pointing to the table.
There were several letters, four boxes of candy, gorgeous flowers and other bon voyage gifts. Nancy’s eyes became suspiciously moist as she read a telegram from her father.
“I’m glad he doesn’t know how close I came to missing the boat,” she thought. “From now on I’ll look after my passport and never let it out of my sight.”
Making up her mind that she would give all her papers to the purser for safe-keeping, the girl set forth to learn where he might be stationed. The Patrician was a large vessel containing a maze of corridors. Before she had gone far the girl was hopelessly lost, but she kept on walking, knowing that sooner or later she would reach an open deck.
Suddenly she met Mrs. Joslin face to face. They both paused.
“What are you doing here, Miss Drew?” the woman asked in a hard voice.
“Why, I am just waiting for the boat to sail,” returned Nancy sweetly.
The woman frowned. “You told me you would withdraw from the trip! You deliberately lied to me.”
“Oh, no, Mrs. Joslin. I told you I would withdraw from the Laurel Hall group, and I kept my promise. I did not tell you I would not sail. In fact, you gave me no chance to do so.”
“I’ll not have Nestrelda in your company! I’ll take her off the ship this instant,” the woman stormed.
“That’s entirely up to you,” said Nancy, unmoved. “I know I shall sail on this boat.”
“You are an insolent, stubborn girl,” Mrs. Joslin cried furiously.
Repeating that she would take her daughter off the boat, the woman hastened down the corridor.
“Nestrelda must be somewhere aboard the Patrician,” Nancy reflected, “yet it’s very odd her name did not appear on the passenger list.”
After a moment she turned and followed Mrs. Joslin down the corridor, thinking that she might find out Nestrelda’s room number. At the corner she halted, for ahead of her was the girl’s mother, talking in an excited voice to the man Nancy had seen in her company in River Heights.
While she could not understand the words, Nancy shrewdly guessed that her own actions were the subject under discussion. It dawned upon her that the man really might be Mrs. Joslin’s husband.
“They’re certainly acting in a most peculiar manner,” she reasoned. “Nestrelda can’t be their only reason for not wishing me to make this trip.”
Convinced now that something important was afoot, Nancy decided to do a little sleuthing. First she would seek out the Laurel Hall girls and see what kind of a person Nestrelda was. She had little trouble locating their staterooms, so that several minutes elapsed before she found them.
“Maybe I ought to go back to my friends,” she told herself. “The boat is due to sail very soon.”
At that instant she was arrested by a commanding voice from Cabin 20.
“You will do as Mother says, Nestrelda!”
Mrs. Joslin!
“I—I can’t,” replied a girl’s voice tearfully.
“Now don’t carry on so,” the woman said. “Your mother knows best.”
“But I’ve planned on this cruise for over a year,” the girl pleaded. “Your excuse doesn’t seem a reasonable one to me. Please, let me go.”
“No, darling.”
“You’re not being fair! You’ve no right to ask me to give up the trip!”
“Get your luggage together, Nestrelda.”
Nancy did not hear the reply, for suddenly the door was flung open. A dark-haired, wild-eyed girl who could not have been more than seventeen ran into the hallway and disappeared down the corridor.
Before Nancy had time to hide, Mrs. Joslin stormed out of the cabin, intent upon pursuing her daughter. Seeing the Drew girl, she paused long enough to cry angrily:
“This is all your fault!”
Then she hastened after Nestrelda. Scarcely were the two out of sight when the steamship whistle blew a loud warning blast.
“All ashore,” called a steward, passing down the hall. “All ashore.”
“Mrs. Joslin will have to work fast if she hopes to get her daughter off the boat,” Nancy chuckled, going to find her own friends.
Bess’s aunt, Ned, and the other two college boys were preparing to leave the vessel. Regretfully goodbyes were said and greetings exchanged.
“Have a good time, Nancy,” Ned said in parting. “Your father told me I was to remind you of something the very last thing.”
“Remind me of what, Ned?”
“That you’re to leave mysteries entirely alone on this trip!”
“And yet I’m supposed to have a good time?” the girl laughed.
“All ashore,” called the steward once more. “Last call.”
Ned and his friends hurried down the gangplank, taking their positions near the edge of the dock where they could wave to the girls as the steamer sailed away. Nancy’s attention was divided between waving to her friends and in watching the longshoremen lower the last of the trunks into the hold of the ship.
“There goes yours,” remarked Bess, who stood beside her at the railing. “I’m glad it’s aboard.”
Unobserved by the girls, a tall dark man had been watching the loading. As he saw the brass bound trunk swing through the air, he gave a loud cry which caused Nancy to turn toward him.
“Why, that’s Mrs. Joslin’s friend!” she exclaimed. “Now what is the matter?”
The man was gesticulating wildly, pointing at the trunk, and trying to attract the attention of those who were lowering it. They paid no attention to him, going on methodically with their work. When the last of the luggage had been dropped into the hold, there came a loud blast from the ship’s whistle.
“Now what did he try to tell those men about my trunk?” Nancy asked, deeply puzzled. “He acted as if he were attempting to claim it.”
“You and your luggage troubles!” exclaimed George. “If you ever go to South America again I hope you take a knapsack.”
“The Joslins should be getting off the boat unless they intend to sail,” spoke up Bess. “The men are ready to lift the gangplanks.”
At that instant Mrs. Joslin came running. Her hat was pushed at an angle on her head and she seemed fairly beside herself with anxiety. Rudely she made her way through the throng, looking for her daughter.
“Nestrelda! Nestrelda!” she cried in a shrill voice. “Where are you? You must come off the boat with me!”
There was no answer. A steward stepped forward and took the woman by the arm.
“All ashore,” he said sternly. “You’re holding up the sailing.”
“I can’t go without my daughter,” Mrs. Joslin answered, trying to break away. Again she began to call at the top of her lungs, “Nestrelda! Nestrelda!”
“Madam,” said the attendant, pulling her toward the gangplank, “you must leave the boat at once.”
“I won’t!” was the woman’s heated retort.
Mrs. Joslin was still protesting that she would not leave as she and her dark companion were being shoved forcibly down the gangplank. Then the passageway was lifted, and with the bands playing, confetti flying, streamers of paper stretching from dock to boat, the Patrician moved away majestically. Nancy and her chums waved to their friends until the vessel was too far out for them to recognise anyone.
“My, it was fun to see Mrs. Joslin pushed off the boat,” chuckled George as the girls turned from the railing. “What do you think became of Nestrelda, Nancy?”
“She may be on the boat still.”
“Do you believe she would dare defy her mother?” George questioned in astonishment. “I’m sure she must have gone ashore by herself.”
“I think she is hiding!” whispered the Drew girl softly, “and didn’t leave the ship. I’m more interested than ever in meeting her.”