Chapter 15 The Mystery of the Brass Bound Trunk by Carolyn Keene
A New Friendship
The name which Nestrelda had spoken so casually could not fail to startle Nancy.
“I don’t understand,” she murmured in astonishment. “Isn’t Mrs. Joslin your mother?”
“Oh, yes,” the girl explained willingly. “Mother married a second time and now her name is Joslin.”
Nestrelda’s tone made it clear that she had scant liking for her mother’s husband. Nancy longed to question her, but refrained from doing so in Senora Zola’s presence. However, she made up her mind she would extend the conversation at the first opportunity.
“I have a little confession to make,” she told the girl. “Your trunk is in my cabin.”
“Then it is still aboard! What a relief! I was certain my stepfather had managed to get it off the boat!”
Nancy told how she had mistaken the trunk for her own and had ordered it sent to her own cabin.
“It was a fortunate error for me,” Nestrelda declared. “If that trunk had gone ashore I should have had no clothes for the trip.”
“Then you are determined to go on?”
“I can’t very well swim back now,” Nestrelda said with a quick laugh. “And when I reach Buenos Aires I’ll find some way to bring Mother around to my way of thinking. It was unreasonable of her to change her mind at the last minute.”
“Nestrelda, you should do as your mother wishes,” interposed the headmistress. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I will go and send her a radiogram. She will be very worried until she learns you are safe.”
Nestrelda made a wry grimace which the woman did not see. Senora Zola went out, leaving the two girls alone.
“Mother won’t worry about me as much as the headmistress thinks,” Nestrelda said after a moment. “She’s changed a lot since she married again. I hate my stepfather!”
“What is he like?” inquired Nancy.
“He’s really older than Mother but he looks years younger. That’s because he is so vain about his appearance. He dresses expensively. I can’t honestly say his clothes are loud but they lack good taste.”
From the girl’s description, Nancy was satisfied that the man she had seen with Mrs. Joslin undoubtedly was Nestrelda’s stepfather.
“I’ll run away before I’ll return home,” the student from Laurel Hall continued angrily. “Mother can’t treat me like a child forever.”
“Have you any money of your own?”
“A little. Mother will cable me more. She’ll have to do it!”
“And if she refuses?”
“I don’t know what I would do in that case. I just can’t return to the United States so soon. Oh, Miss Drew, won’t you help me if Mother makes trouble?”
“Your mother would be very angry if I were to interfere in any way.”
“She’s been most unjust,” Nestrelda returned earnestly. “I don’t know what made her turn against you as she did. I’m sure I would be thrilled to have your detective ability.”
Nancy warmed to the words, but she did not allow her judgment to be swayed by praise. Without making a definite promise that she would try to help the girl, she managed to keep the conversation on a friendly basis. At her suggestion they went to arrange for Nestrelda’s trunk to be brought to her cabin.
As Nancy watched the girl unpack her belongings she noticed a strange marking on the underside of the trunk lid, “A Trenton Trunk.” Instantly it occurred to Nancy that the luggage might have been purchased from the firm of Trenton and Washburn.
“Did you buy your trunk in River Heights?” she inquired of Nestrelda. “It looks almost like mine.”
“I really can’t tell you. My stepfather bought it for me.”
Dismissing the subject as of no consequence, Nestrelda asked Nancy where she would stay in South America.
“My chums and I plan to spend most of the time with a Mrs. Purdy. She is staying on the outskirts of Buenos Aires.”
Nestrelda straightened up from the trunk she was unpacking. “Mrs. Purdy? You don’t mean Mrs. Albert Purdy?”
“Why yes, do you know her too?”
“Mrs. Purdy is Senora Zola’s sister. My mother is their half sister. Mother has always lived in the United States.”
“Oh, I didn’t know,” murmured Nancy.
She was greatly disturbed by this latest information, for she could foresee any number of complications which might arise. Presently, taking leave of her new friend, she went back to her own cabin. Bess and George listened excitedly as she told where she had been for the past hour.
“You’re very charitable to have anything to do with that girl,” said Bess flatly. “Especially after the way her mother acted.”
“Nestrelda isn’t a bit like Mrs. Joslin. You’ll like her.”
Bess and George helped Nancy to unpack her trunk. A bottle of perfume had been broken and several frocks were badly mussed.
“You must have been thinking about mysteries when you packed your things,” George Fayne chided, holding up a wrinkled skirt. “This will need to go to the ship’s dry cleaning department.”
Nancy nodded absently. She was occupied with inspecting the inside lid of her luggage.
“Now what are you looking for?” asked Bess.
“Only a name. Nestrelda’s trunk has a trademark on it called ‘A Trenton Trunk.’ I thought mine might be marked similarly, but it isn’t.”
The next morning Nancy arranged to have her chums meet Nestrelda. Bess and George immediately forgot their prejudices, and before long were calling the girl Treldy and chatting with her as if they had been friends for many years. As they were drinking bouillon together on the sunny deck, Henry Washburn strolled toward the group. The young man looked so lonesome that Nancy invited him to join the party.
Nestrelda and Henry discovered many common interests. They seemed so absorbed in each other that Nancy, George and Bess soon excused themselves and went below to exercise Snowball.
“I don’t see why Miss Drew can’t have the cat in her cabin,” Bess protested to the steward. “I saw another girl this morning with a police dog.”
“That was Miss Brownley,” replied the attendant. “Her case is quite different. She is blind and needs the dog to lead her.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” murmured Bess.
During the afternoon the girls observed Miss Brownley taking a stroll with her trained dog. The intelligent animal walked in a straight line ahead of her, looking neither to the right nor to the left. Whenever he came to a step he would pause, so that the leash became loose in his mistress’s hand, thus warning her of uneven footing ahead.
As the girls stood watching, the ship gave an unexpected lurch. Caught off balance, the blind girl staggered and would have fallen had not Nancy rushed forward to seize her by the arm.
“Oh, thank you,” Miss Brownley said gratefully. “I seem to be very awkward today.”
“I do not think so,” Nancy replied. “May I help you to a chair?”
“Please. I have lost my bearings.”
Nancy not only assisted the young woman, but sat down beside her on the sunny deck. Quickly recovering her composure, the young woman made no reference to her affliction. She talked cheerfully of many subjects, mentioning that she hoped to earn money by appearing in public entertainments.
“I play the piano,” she said without affectation. “I do imitations, too. I have done occasional radio work.”
Nancy found Miss Brownley charming, and admired the courageous way in which she faced the future. During the afternoon she mentioned the young woman to the Patrician’s hostess.
“I am glad to hear about her talents,” Nancy was told. “We will ask her to appear on a program we are planning.”
As the days wore on, Nancy wondered about Doris Trenton. Since her surprise meeting with Washburn, the young woman had kept to her stateroom. Her mother said that the daughter was seasick, but Nancy had other ideas of what was wrong. She had felt sorry for Henry, but after she had seen him several times talking in interested fashion with Nestrelda, it occurred to her that they might be developing a special liking for each other.
“That would add new complications to the situation,” she mused. “I wonder how Doris will take it if she should lose Henry’s affection?”
Nancy had not ceased to wonder about the strange marking of Nestrelda’s trunk. At the first opportunity she drew young Washburn into the conversation. Without revealing the purpose behind her questions, she inquired what trademark was used by his firm.
“All our trunks are marked ‘Trenton and Washburn,’ ” he replied. “We have used that insignia ever since I can remember.”
“Your trunks would never be marked with only the Trenton name?”
“Not to my knowledge. To make sure, I’ll look in the catalog. I have one in my room.”
Henry got the booklet, and for half an hour he and Nancy pored over the listings. They could find no trunk advertised bearing any mark save that of “Trenton and Washburn.”
“I was almost certain Nestrelda’s trunk came from your factory,” Nancy said in disappointment.
“Nestrelda?” The young man caught her up quickly.
Having made this slip of the tongue, Nancy was compelled to reveal that she and Mrs. Joslin’s daughter owned trunks apparently purchased at the same place.
“I wish I could see them both,” declared Henry, immediately interested. “I might identify them if they came from our firm.”
Arrangements were made with Nestrelda, who seemed pleased to have an interest taken in her affairs. Henry Washburn examined first Nancy’s trunk, then the one which resembled it so closely.
“Either of these pieces might have come from our factory,” he admitted, perplexed, “but I can’t understand why they do not bear our insignia.”
Returning to her cabin, Nancy found Bess and George impatiently awaiting her arrival. They thrust a sealed envelope into her hand.
“What is this?” inquired Nancy.
“That’s what we’d like to know,” answered George. “It was shoved under our door about five minutes ago. We didn’t dare open it because it was addressed to you.”
“I have no idea who could have left it,” Nancy said, tearing open the envelope.
A puzzled expression came over her face as she read aloud the contents. The fellow had written a message in verse form that he’d like to meet Nancy and receive fifty dollars.
“Well, what do you think of that!” interrupted Bess, peering over her chum’s shoulder, “It doesn’t make sense.”
“It does to me,” said Nancy in chagrin. “I am afraid it means that I may have offered to give fifty dollars to the wrong man!”
“Nancy, you dearly love to talk in riddles,” scolded George, losing patience. “What is this all about anyway?”
“There’s no mystery about it. I thought I had located the red-haired man I’ve been looking for, so I slipped a note under the door of his stateroom. It may be that the stewardess gave me the wrong room number, for it turns out this fellow has no moustache,” she added, as she read on.
“Maybe he shaved it off,” George suggested. “Nancy, has it ever occurred to you that this fellow you think is a friend of Doris and the one she may be planning to elope with, might be a criminal of some sort?”
“No, I haven’t,” replied Nancy. “How could you figure out such a thing?”
Feeling important, George gave her ideas.
“In the first place, the man may be a blackmailer. He knows something about Doris which she doesn’t want either her parents or Henry Washburn to find out. So when he wants to borrow her car, she has to let him take it.”
Bess looked at her cousin approvingly. “That sounds reasonable. Go on.”
“If he found out Nancy has solved mysteries, of course he would try to avoid her. That’s exactly what he has done.”
“He has until now,” objected Nancy. “This note says he wants to meet me.”
“Only because he wants fifty dollars,” went on George. “I’ve often read that money is the best bait there is to trap a criminal.”
At this last remark Nancy became thoughtful. There might be something to George’s theory. In any case, it would be best for the present if she neither answered the note nor appeared in third class herself.
“Girls,” she said some time later, “will you do a little sleuthing for me?”