Chapter 21 The Mystery of the Brass Bound Trunk by Carolyn Keene
A Summons Home
Nancy hung up the receiver and gazed questioningly at Henry Washburn. The young man had slumped into a chair, the picture of despondency.
“Did my father have bad news for you?” she asked him kindly.
“He wants me to return to the States on the first boat.”
“Oh! That upsets your plans, doesn’t it?”
“Rather.”
“Will you go?”
“I told him I would. Mr. Drew has been going over the estate papers and has found several things he doesn’t like. He thinks I should come back and consult with him.”
“I am sure Dad wouldn’t summon you if it weren’t vitally important.”
“I realize that,” admitted the young man gloomily. “The trouble is that if I leave now I’ll not see Treldy again. And I had hoped—well, you understand.”
For a moment Nancy had forgotten this angle of things. Since hearing her father’s message, she felt that she should do everything to discourage the friendship. Later Treldy would take care of the matter herself. Poor Treldy! Things were piling up pretty heavily against her.
“She may soon be returning home herself, so your separation should not be a long one,” Nancy said aloud.
“We could be married before I leave,” the young man replied, struck by a sudden idea. “That is, if Treldy is willing.”
Nancy was in a panic and countered for time.
“Do you think a marriage would be wise, considering the estate difficulties which may face you?” she asked.
“I suppose it would be a foolish thing to do,” Henry acknowledged gloomily.
Nancy’s private opinion was that the young man had been saved by circumstance from a very rash act. She believed, too, that his feeling for Nestrelda was nothing more than infatuation.
“I’ll just talk with Treldy on the phone before I sail,” he said finally. “A steamer leaves tomorrow. Oh, everything is such a mess.”
“Cheer up,” Nancy advised. “Six months from now I’m sure you’ll be glad you acted as you are doing.”
“Miss Drew, you’ve been a wonderful help to me,” young Washburn thanked the girl as he was leaving. “Your advice to me on this trip has been invaluable.”
Nancy was glad when the door closed, for she was blushing furiously at such praise. She was relieved when Bess and George accosted her. The cousins could scarcely wait to question their chum about the snapshot which she had taken of Harold Sand.
“What were you starting to tell us about it just as Mr. Washburn arrived?” Bess asked, studying the picture once more.
“Did I say anything?” inquired Nancy innocently.
“You intimated there was something peculiar about the man’s pose. You mentioned his hands.”
“Oh, so I did.” Nancy laughed in a teasing way. “Don’t you notice anything?”
“Not a thing.”
“Neither do I,” contributed George. “What is so significant about this snapshot, Nancy?”
“Unless I’m very much mistaken it will be the means of solving Mr. Sand’s identity.”
“His identity!” gasped Bess. “Do you mean to tell me Mr. Sand isn’t Mr. Sand?”
“I think it’s time you clear up all this mystery,” George added irritably. “Why keep us in the dark?”
“I’ll do it the next time we see him,” Nancy promised with sudden decision. “I agree that this affair has gone far enough.”
“Let’s find Mr. Sand now,” proposed Bess, pulling the other two girls toward the door.
They went to the young man’s bedroom and knocked, but there was no response. They searched along the river and in the garden, but could find no trace of the man anywhere.
“He must have gone into B. A. again,” said Nancy. “We’ll watch for him when he returns.”
Late evening found Harold Sand’s bedroom still dark. Nancy and her chums arose early the next morning hoping to meet the man at breakfast. Manuela told them that he had not returned during the night.
“Perhaps he won’t come back at all,” George said anxiously. “Nancy, tell us what you have discovered.”
“I may be wrong, so I’ll wait until I see Harold Sand.”
“But if we never see him again?”
“We will,” said Nancy, smiling confidently.
All morning the girls kept watch for the young man, but in vain. After luncheon Nancy announced she was tired of waiting.
“I am only wasting valuable time,” she declared. “The thing I should do is run into the city and visit the luggage shop of Halifax and Lopes.”
“We’ll go with you,” Bess offered quickly.
Nancy shook her head. “The clerks would recall your visit yesterday and be suspicious. Of course, I am known to Mr. Halifax, but I’ll try to keep out of his way.”
“Don’t get into trouble,” Bess called anxiously as the girl drove off in a taxi a few minutes later. “We’ll worry about you every second until you get back.”
Despite the warning of her chums, Nancy had no thought that she would encounter difficulty in learning whether or not her trunk was being held at the luggage shop. She was taken aback when upon dismissing her driver at the door of the shop, she saw a man watching her from the window.
As she hesitated, the Venetian blinds were closed. A curtain dropped over the glass portion of the front door. Several times Nancy tried the door and knocked but could arouse no one.
“I’ve been recognized by Mr. Halifax,” she told herself. “He’s afraid if I get inside I may learn too much.”
Nancy was more than ever convinced that her missing trunk would be found inside the shop. Pretending to leave, she walked down the street to the corner. Turning, she slipped into an alleyway and came back to the same building.
Upon testing a rear door, Nancy was elated to find it unlocked. Softly she opened it and tiptoed inside.
She found herself in a large storeroom which was cluttered with empty packing boxes. Cautiously she made her way to the customers’ room. It too was deserted, but from a private office not far removed she could hear a low murmur of voices.
Nancy was satisfied that her chums had done a thorough job of inspecting the new trunks which were on display, so she did not waste any time looking at them. Instead, she slipped into the repair department. Only three trunks were in the room, and a glance convinced the girl that hers was not among them.
“My hunch was wrong after all,” she thought in disappointment. “Now to get out of here before I am discovered.”
In her haste to leave the building, Nancy failed to notice a tall pile of heavy leather bags which had been stacked on a shelf above the door. As her shoulder accidentally struck the edge of a table, the resulting vibration caused the bags to teeter.
Before Nancy was even aware of her danger, down fell the luggage. One of the bags struck her squarely on the head. Without making a sound she slumped to the floor.
A long while later when Nancy opened her eyes, the room was dark. She sat up, rubbing her bruised forehead. For a moment she could not remember where she was nor what had happened. Then, as things gradually came back to her, she became aware of voices in the adjoining room.
She could hear two men talking earnestly. With a start she recognized Harry Halifax’s voice.
“We must get that girl’s trunk if we have to steal it, understand? Your American friend certainly bungled the job from the minute it got on the Patrician.”
“He did indeed,” the other agreed grimly, speaking with an accent. “Si, si, we handle this ourselves.”
Was the speaker Senor Lopes?
Nancy heard an outside door open and close. She knew the men had left the shop.
After a moment she pulled herself to her feet. Still feeling dizzy, she gripped the table edge for support.
“Now whose trunk were they talking about?” she asked herself. “Either Treldy’s or mine, I’m sure of that. And probably it’s hers.”
Nancy staggered to the front window of the store and looked out. Harry Halifax and his companion had vanished down the street. It was too late to follow them.
“If I only knew where they are going!” she thought. “They may have bungled their job, but I’ve bungled mine too!”
The girl was even more deeply chagrined when she tried to open the front door and found it locked from the outside. Windows were fastened and barricaded with an iron grillwork.
Hopefully the girl groped her way to the rear door only to discover that it too had been locked. She was trapped in the building.
“I might shout for help,” she told herself, “but if I do the police will be called, and very likely I should end up in jail. Such a mess as I’ve brought upon myself!”
Nancy located the most comfortable chair in the shop and slumped into it. After a moment she sprang up, for it had occurred to her that she might find interesting papers in Mr. Halifax’s desk and also a telephone. However, the door to the private office was locked.
“Everything is against me,” she thought, returning to her chair. “But I shouldn’t grumble, because it’s my own fault I’m here.”
For some time she sat in the dark room reflecting upon her unhappy situation. A street clock struck the hour of nine. Back at the Purdy home dinner would be over. Her hostess, as well as Bess and George, must be worrying about her long absence. If only they would come in search of her she might be released!
As the possibility of rescue cheered Nancy, her mind turned to other channels. She began to review all the scattered clues which had come into her possession. Suddenly she recalled a scene long forgotten; an incident which now appeared to have direct bearing upon the present situation. With a cry of delight she sprang from her chair.
“Why didn’t I think of that before? Of course that’s where my missing trunk is! Now I’ll have to find a way to get out of here!”
As she groped toward the front door, there was a sound behind her. Suddenly Nancy felt faint and slumped to the floor.