Chapter 5 The Quest of the Missing Map by Carolyn Keene
The Stolen Parchment
“A prowler!” Nancy whispered into Ellen’s ear. “Don’t make a sound! We may be able to capture him.”
Remaining motionless, the girls waited until the man had nearly reached the base of the ladder. Then, at a signal from Nancy, they made a concerted rush for him.
“Hey! What the—” the man exclaimed as their arms locked about him.
After the first moment of surprise he began to struggle. With one push he sent Ellen reeling backwards into a clump of dwarf evergreens. Nancy held on, but she found herself unable to cope with the strength of the muscular fellow.
“Let go!” he said harshly. “If you don’t I’ll git rough!”
Headlights from a passing automobile momentarily focused on the struggling pair, and in that second Nancy caught a clear glimpse of the man’s face.
“I won’t let go!” she defied him.
In the wild struggle the ladder was pushed away from the wall. It toppled, narrowly missing Ellen, and struck the garage with a loud crash.
“Help! Help!” screamed Nancy, hoping that her cry would awaken the neighbors.
Instantly the prowler’s gnarled hand was clapped across her mouth. Shaking free from her grasp, he lifted her bodily and threw her down on the grass.
Nancy fell so hard that the breath was knocked from her. As she struggled to her feet she saw the man running across the lawn. He disappeared beyond a hedge and was lost in the protecting darkness.
“Are you all right, Nancy?” Ellen gasped, limping toward her friend.
“Yes, but we let that man get away. I hope he didn’t steal anything.”
At the house next door lights were being snapped on. The upper floor of the Smith home suddenly was illuminated. Ellen’s mother raised a window and called to ask what was wrong.
“Mother, it’s I, and Nancy Drew is with me. I’m afraid our home has been robbed,” Ellen told her. “Nancy and I just tried to capture a man who was coming out of the house!”
“Oh, goodness me!” Mrs. Smith exclaimed. “Did he get away?”
“We couldn’t hold him. Is Father all right?”
There was no answer from above. The girls guessed that Mrs. Smith had run downstairs to her husband’s room.
A few minutes later she unlocked the back door. By this time several neighbors had arrived to inquire into the cause of the commotion. Nancy explained what had happened, and one man summoned the police. Ellen and Nancy found Mr. Smith in a state of nervous alarm. Already he was asking what had been taken.
“Probably my desk has been rifled!” he proclaimed. “I’m sure the parchment map is gone!”
“Now don’t get excited, Tomlin,” Mrs. Smith soothed. “Maybe the girls got here in time to prevent a robbery.”
“If I were you I would look to make sure,” Nancy urged. “The man may have ransacked every room in the house.”
While she and Ellen checked over the silverware to ascertain if any of it was missing, Mrs. Smith hastened upstairs. In a few minutes she returned and one glance at her stricken face told the girls that the precious piece of paper was gone.
“I was afraid that map was what the prowler came for,” Nancy commented. “Nothing else seems to have been stolen.”
“That’s what I call a low-down trick,” Mr. Smith fumed. “Now who could that scamp be, and why should he want the map?”
“Obviously to obtain the treasure!” exclaimed Ellen. “Oh, Father, the parchment must have genuine value! And to think we’ve lost it!”
“You forget that I made a copy of the original,” Nancy reminded the girl. “It’s crudely drawn but fairly accurate.”
“Why, that’s so! I had forgotten. Nancy, what a clever girl you are!”
“I have my map with me,” said Nancy. “I’ll make another copy for you.”
Mr. Smith echoed his daughter’s praise. Somewhat to Nancy’s embarrassment he introduced her to the group of neighbors who had gathered on the front porch and told them what she had done. On the edge of the crowd in the shadows stood a man and a woman. Obviously they were strangers.
“Did you hear that, Irene?” whispered the man.
“Sh, Fred. Here comes the police car.”
Quietly the two slid out of sight around the corner of the house, where through an open window they could see and hear without being observed themselves.
Nancy and Ellen were questioned by Sergeant Holmes as to the appearance of the intruder. The Smith girl could remember nothing about him but his surprising strength. Nancy, however, not only provided the police with an excellent description of the man, but drew for them a rough sketch of his face.
“Say, you’re something of an artist!” the sergeant said admiringly. “A good observer, too! This fellow looks like one of our old friends.”
“Looks like Spike Doty,” another policeman added, studying the sketch. “He has a record a mile long, and is wanted for another robbery. Did you notice a tattoo on his left arm?”
“It was too dark to see,” Nancy replied. “I caught only one glimpse of his face.”
“He wasn’t a short, squat man?” Sergeant Holmes inquired thoughtfully.
“Yes, he was,” Ellen answered before Nancy could reply.
“That’s Spike without question, then. He’s a sailor, and a fairly good one when he’s willing to work.”
Just before the police left Nancy walked to the front porch. She was in time to see a man and a woman come hurriedly from the side of the house and step into a car which had been parked some distance up the street. The automobile was too far away for her to distinguish either the make or the license number.
“That’s queer,” she thought. “I wonder if they were just curious bystanders or if they’ve had some part in the robbery.”
In the morning she and Ellen arose about nine o’clock, helped with the dishes and then drove to Blackstone Music College. They assisted in setting the stage for the operetta and had luncheon. Then Nancy started for Emerson College to attend the dance.
“I’m staying only one night,” she said to Ellen in parting. “On my way home I’ll stop at Rocky Edge and investigate some more.”
“Thanks so much. I do want to earn the money Mrs. Chatham offers so that I can come back here next fall,” Ellen said wistfully.
Nancy motored leisurely along a winding country road. A gray automobile followed only a short distance behind. So absorbed was she in her thoughts that she paid it no heed until many miles had ticked off on the speedometer.
“Why doesn’t that car pass me?” she wondered finally.
Deliberately she slowed up, but the car behind likewise slackened pace. For the first time it occurred to Nancy that perhaps she was being followed. With increasing uneasiness she remembered that she had the precious copy of Tomlin Smith’s half-map in her purse.
“It’s time that I find out what’s what!” she chided herself. “We’ll play a little game of hide-and-seek.”
Again with deliberate intent Nancy slackened pace, turning into a paved side road. She felt certain that unless the occupants of the gray car were trailing her they would not make the turn. Watching in the mirror, she was alarmed to see that the automobile did leave the main road.
“I am being followed!” she thought anxiously. “And they’re gaining on me, too!”
By this time the gray car was so near that she could see two persons in the front seat, a man and a woman. They were the ones who had hurried out of the Smith driveway the night before! Gradually, so as not to disclose her concern, Nancy speeded up but was unable to lose her pursuers.
“They mean business,” she thought grimly. “If I don’t lose them quickly, they’ll probably try to stop me when we come to the first lonely stretch.”
Directly ahead was a dirt road which Nancy knew led to the town of Hamilton, two miles away. Without hesitating she turned into it, even though she realized it would carry her out of her way.
Another burst of speed put her far ahead of the pursuing machine. Nevertheless, as she entered the town of Hamilton she saw that the man and woman had not given up the chase.
Nancy drove directly to the railroad station, parked the car, and ran into the building. Entering a telephone booth, she called Ned Nickerson at Emerson College and told him of her predicament.
“You stay where you are until I get there,” the young man advised. “A train leaves for Hamilton in fifteen minutes. If I hurry I can catch it. Whatever you do, don’t give those folks a chance to approach you when you’re alone.”
“I’ll be safe enough until you get here,” Nancy said to reassure him. “I think I’ve given them the slip.”
Even as she hung up the receiver, the gray car pulled up some distance behind her own. Unaware that her whereabouts had been discovered, Nancy sat down in the waiting room. On the back of an old envelope she began to make a second copy of the half-piece of treasure map, as she recalled she had failed to leave one with Mr. Smith.
She became so absorbed in the task that she did not glance up until a woman sat down beside her. The newcomer was perhaps thirty-five, inclined to stoutness, with a cold, steady gaze which rested on Nancy’s work.
“She’s the one who followed me!” the girl thought instantly.
Abruptly getting up, she thrust both drawings into her purse and hurriedly left the railroad station. A glance assured her that the woman’s accomplice was waiting near by, so she started walking up the street in the opposite direction.
“I’ll be safe from having my purse snatched if I stay within sight of other people,” she reasoned, clutching her handbag. “What I must do is finish the second copy of the map quickly.”
A block away Nancy came to a large department store. Turning into it, she made her way to the third floor. Locating a telephone booth in a corner, she closed herself into it.
“I’ll be undisturbed here for a few minutes,” she chuckled, opening her purse. “Now to copy the map, only this time——”
It required less than five minutes to complete the sketch. Realizing that both drawings could be stolen, Nancy sealed her original one into an envelope which she addressed to her father. Then she discovered that she had no stamp.
“I’ll mail it at the post office,” she decided. “I may be followed, but I must take the risk.”
Nancy hoped that she had not been observed entering the store, but when she emerged from the building she saw the same man and woman waiting at the entrance. As she walked hurriedly along the street they followed in their car.
“They’re afraid to approach me now,” she reasoned, “but if I’m alone for a minute I’ll have trouble.”
Entering the post office, Nancy bought a stamp and mailed the letter. She remained in the building for a few minutes, allowing herself exactly enough time to reach the railroad station before Ned’s train should arrive.
Her watch proved to be accurate, for as she came within view of the depot she saw the train coming down the track. With a sigh of relief she quickened her step and joined the crowd of passengers on the platform.
The engine came to a standstill. Nancy caught a glimpse of Ned alighting from the last car. She eagerly waved to him and for an instant forgot to be alert.
As the passengers pushed toward the train, someone brushed against her. Nancy felt a slight tug on her arm. Startled, she whirled around in time to see a man running down the platform.
“My pocketbook!” she gasped in dismay. “It has been snatched!”