Chapter 4 The Quest of the Missing Map by Carolyn Keene
A Strange Lawsuit
Bess closed her eyes, expecting a crash. But the driver ahead got across with only seconds to spare.
“One might almost think the police were after him,” said George.
As the long freight train thundered past, Nancy looked through the spaces between the cars to see if Mr. Bellows were in sight. But there was no sign of the blue roadster.
“We’ve lost him now,” she declared gloomily. “It will be useless to try to overtake him after this delay.”
She drove slowly to River Heights. After depositing George and Bess at their homes she arrived on her own street just as her father’s automobile rolled into the Drew driveway.
“Hello, Nancy,” the lawyer greeted his daughter fondly. “I came home early today—had a rather hard session in court.”
Nancy and her father wandered arm in arm through the garden.
“Dad, let’s sit down here,” she urged after a few moments, indicating a stone bench. “I have something to show you.”
“A letter from Ned Nickerson?” he teased, rumpling her hair. “Or is it from a new boy friend?”
“Now you know Ned doesn’t waste time writing me letters,” Nancy laughed. “At least not very often. It’s part of a map to a treasure island!”
“You’re joking, I suppose.”
“No, it’s genuine, Dad. Here it is.” Nancy placed the paper in his hands.
“This looks suspiciously like your handwriting, my dear.”
“Oh, it’s only my copy of the original,” Nancy replied.
She then repeated everything she had learned that afternoon at the Tomlin Smith home. Rather anxiously she awaited her father’s comment.
“I think I’d much rather help the Smith family in a financial way than to have you concerned with a lost treasure which a man like Mr. Bellows is interested in,” he said at last.
“Oh, but I want to be concerned! It isn’t only about the map and its treasure. Mr. Smith wants me to find his lost twin brother. He says it never would do for him to keep all the treasure if it could be found. He insists that his missing brother must share equally with him.”
“That difficulty could be solved easily by putting half the money in a trust fund,” Mr. Drew remarked. “But what nonsense! Of course there’s no treasure.”
“The real half-map Mr. Smith possesses has an authentic appearance, Dad. My copy probably doesn’t impress you properly.”
“I can’t tell much about the place from this,” he admitted. “The parchment was torn in such a way that one can’t figure out what any of the names or directions mean. Have you tried checking it with an atlas?”
“Not yet, Dad. Let’s do it now, shall we?”
More to please Nancy than for any other reason, Carson Drew accompanied her to the study where for some time they pored over the map. By the time Hannah Gruen announced dinner the lawyer was so interested that he was reluctant to leave.
“Old Captain Tomlin was a clever fellow,” he conceded. “By tearing the map as he did the shape of the island is destroyed, so now it’s practically impossible to learn its location without the missing section.”
“I’m glad you said ‘practically,’ ” Nancy chuckled, following her father to the dining room. “You see, Dad, I mean to attempt the impossible. Tomorrow I’ll do a bit of sleuthing at the public library.”
The following morning Nancy spent many hours examining old geographies and records. Although the librarian permitted the girl access to the books, she could find no chart which bore any resemblance to the scrap of map in her possession.
Disappointed, she next turned to business directories and biographies. She carefully studied the names listed.
“There’s not a John Abner among them,” Nancy sighed.
In one minor matter success did reward her efforts. An old book on lost ships offered a brief account of the sinking of the freighter, the Sea Hawk, with a Captain Abner Tomlin in charge, and gave a list of the officers and sailors who had shipped aboard her. As Nancy carefully copied the names, she noticed there was no Tom Gambrell among them.
“That is point Number One against Mr. Bellows,” she mused as she arose to go.
Upon leaving the library Nancy went directly to the nearest newspaper office and asked if she might look through the files. Soon she was busy searching old copies for stories concerning the Chatham place. Without much trouble she found an article telling of the sale of Rocky Edge, after the owner, a Silas Norse, had died.
“Now to see if there are any items about strange gadgets there,” the girl said to herself, turning sheet after sheet.
Her efforts were rewarded when her eye lighted upon a startling headline:
BURGLAR STARTS LAWSUIT
Thief Injured at Estate Claims Damages
The story went on to tell how one Spike Doty had broken into the home of Mr. Norse. As he was about to escape with valuable loot, he had been caught between sliding panels and hurt rather badly. Though held for robbery, he had made a claim for damages.
“I wonder if he ever collected!” smiled Nancy. “I must ask Dad to find out.”
She hunted further and found a photograph and an article about the inventor himself. There were pictures of various rooms in his home showing trap doors, secret closets and all kinds of gadgets. Nancy was on the point of deciding that Rocky Edge was no place for Ellen Smith when she read that Mr. Norse was having all these things removed.
“But he forgot to take out the one in the Ship Cottage. That I know. And maybe he didn’t remove all the others either!”
Nancy decided she would like to talk things over with Ellen, so upon reaching home she telephoned the Smith girl who invited her to come over that evening and spend the night with her.
When she had finished her telephone conversation, Nancy told Hannah Gruen that she would stay overnight with Ellen at Music College.
“Tomorrow I am going to Emerson College to the dance with Ned, you know,” she added gaily. “Blackstone is on the way.”
“Yes, and I must remind you your new evening dress hasn’t been hemmed yet,” replied the housekeeper. “Put it on right away and I’ll fix it.”
While Hannah marked the bottom of the long skirt, Nancy told the woman what she had learned at the library.
“I don’t like the sound of any of it,” remarked Hannah when Nancy had finished. “Turn around. There. That’s far enough. No, not any of it. I believe Ellen better not go to the Chathams, and the Smiths had better look out for that Mr. Bellows. I think, too, that sometimes lost relatives had better stay lost. Mr. Smith might be sorry if he does find his brother!”
Saying this, the woman arose, puffing a little. She waited until Nancy had taken off the dress, then left the room with it. The girl stood looking into space a few moments, reflecting upon Hannah’s well-meant but rather sharp words. Presently she went to the telephone and said good-bye to her father.
“Have a good time, dear, and be careful,” he cautioned her. “Forget this new mystery—at least while you’re away.”
Nancy spent two hours at her Art School, where she was surprised to find a sketch she had made of one of the model’s faces hung in an exhibit. Then she started for Blackstone, reaching Ellen’s dormitory just before dinner.
“Oh, I’m so glad to see you,” the Smith girl exclaimed. “Come and meet my friends. By the way, would you mind going to my home tonight to sleep instead of here? We are giving an operetta here tomorrow and I’ve promised to bring over several things.”
“I don’t mind a bit,” Nancy replied. “We’ll have a better chance to talk if we’re alone.”
The Drew girl thoroughly enjoyed herself at dinner and watching the dress rehearsal later. To her surprise it was after ten before she and Ellen got away, and eleven when they reached Wayland.
“I imagine Mother and Father went to bed long before this,” Ellen remarked, as they turned into the street on which she lived. “They seldom stay up late.”
True to her prediction, the Smith house was dark as the car rolled up before the front door a few minutes later.
“You have your key, Ellen?”
“Oh, dear, I forgot it!” the girl exclaimed. “I’ll have to ring the bell.”
No one answered. After a long wait Ellen tried again, but still there was no response.
“Mother must be sleeping soundly,” she commented. “I wonder why she doesn’t answer?”
“Let’s try the back door,” Nancy suggested. “If that’s locked we may be able to get in through a window.”
Moving quietly so that the neighbors would not be disturbed, the girls went around the house. Nancy halted suddenly, clutching Ellen’s hand.
“Look!” she whispered tensely.
A tall ladder leaned against the house wall, terminating at an open window on the second floor. As the girls stared at it, they saw a dark form move stealthily down the rungs!