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Chapter 11 The Quest of the Missing Map by Carolyn Keene

Valuable Property
Nancy and George, knowing they had uncovered something important, stood in silence a few moments. Then the latter spoke up.

“We’d better get out of here. This settles it. Rocky Edge is a dangerous place. You can’t tell me Mrs. Chatham doesn’t know about this—this hide-out! I’ll bet she’s in with some——”

“Why, George,” protested Nancy, breaking into her chum’s exasperated statements, “you don’t really believe that, do you? I’m sure Mrs. Chatham didn’t know about the hole.” Then, seeing the hurt look on the face of her chum, who felt she had hit upon an excellent solution, she added quickly, “But you may be right. Let’s find that note of instructions. Maybe it will reveal what you suspect.”

The tunnel ended abruptly, about a hundred feet farther on, at an iron door.

“This probably enters the cellar of the main house,” said Nancy, pulling the heavy handle. “Ooh, it won’t budge. I guess it’s locked.”

“There’s no key, so I guess we go back the way we came,” added George.

Her chum was searching for a ledge or niche where a letter might have been laid. None came to light.

“Probably that awful man in the studio removed it,” suggested George. “Or else there never was one.”

Nancy would not give up, for she felt no one had been in the tunnel for a long time. There were no footprints except those just made by the two girls. In a moment Nancy’s efforts were rewarded.

“Look, George, here’s a little section of the door that sticks out. There’s a ring on it.”

Quickly she pulled on the tiny handle. After a second tug the metal piece came away. Out fell two envelopes. Each was marked “To Whom It May Concern.”

“Open them!” commanded George excitedly.

As she held the light, Nancy obeyed, reading aloud the contents of the first one.

“ ‘I am getting to be an old man now and I feel that I may die suddenly. I may not be able to finish my greatest invention. I have kept it a secret which may die with me. I do not care and in this spot it has harmed no one yet. Two years after my death the wires will not work and the machine will not be dangerous then.

“ ‘The War Department would be glad to have this and might finish work on it. If someone locates my invention, this is the thing to do with it.

Silas Norse.’ ”

“Oh, how thrilling!” exclaimed George. “Nancy, you’ll become famous, having found a great invention.”

The Drew girl laughed lightly. “All the credit goes to Mr. Norse,” she insisted.

“This letter is well over two years old, so the machine is harmless. I’ll urge Mrs. Chatham to notify the War Department right away. Well, let’s read the other letter.”

This second one proved to be of great value. It was headed, “List of Inventions in House and Grounds of Rocky Edge.” About ten were mentioned, revealing all kinds of strange gadgets secreted on the place.

“At last this estate can be made safe,” said George in a practical tone. “All the gadgets can be removed and poor little Trixie needn’t ever be scared again.”

“I doubt that everything Mr. Norse made is here,” replied Nancy. “You notice it doesn’t mention the secret panel in the studio or the piano.”

“That’s right. Maybe he didn’t do those.”

“I believe he did, George. This list seems to be in groups. Some are in ink, some in pencil. I think Mr. Norse wrote on this paper whenever he had a chance and put down the things he could recall at the time.”

“What do you think ought to be done about it?” asked the Fayne girl as the two started toward the ladder.

“I shall talk things over with Mrs. Chatham. After all, this is her property. One thing I am sure of. I shall advise her to take Trixie away from here until the place has had a thorough going over.”

“What will happen to Ellen? She won’t be able to give the little girl piano lessons,” George reminded her chum.

“It might work out better if Ellen could be with both the Chathams in some other spot.”

The two girls did not realize how long they had been gone. The group aboveground was becoming anxious about them, so it was with relief that Nancy and George were greeted.

“You must have found a gold mine,” said Bess. “What in the world kept you?”

“Come back to the studio and we’ll tell you,” replied Nancy. “Mrs. Chatham, I think if your gardener will put a stout cover of heavy planks over the hole, it will avoid further trouble.”

The woman gave directions, then she and the girls moved toward the Ship Cottage. Trixie had gone to the main house, so Nancy felt free to discuss her findings. She unfolded her information cautiously. Soon discovering that Mrs. Chatham showed only genuine surprise and alarm, the girl told the complete story, showing the letters.

“I never dreamed such things were here,” the woman exclaimed at last. “If I had, I probably never would have stayed,” she laughed shakily.

This was Nancy’s chance. “I have a very good idea that Trixie has seen and heard a great deal she hasn’t mentioned to you. Until this estate can have a thorough going over, don’t you think it might be wise to take her away from it for a long vacation?”

She pointed out that the child very probably had been frightened by the same man who had escaped through the hidden door and fled from George.

“I am sure a trip would do you both good. By the time you return the police may have captured the troublemaker.”

“I think you’re right. I wish we could go somewhere far away,” Mrs. Chatham replied. “But I detest travel by automobile. And trains—well, I wish we could go on a boat. But I’d like to be with people I know, not with strangers.”

Nancy had not intended to tell the widow about the treasure map in Tomlin Smith’s possession until it might be proved that the woman’s first husband was the man’s twin. Suddenly it occurred to her that should this turn out to be the case, Mrs. Chatham was the very person who could finance an expedition to the spot.

“Would you enjoy a trip to a treasure island?” she inquired with a smile.

“Are you joking?” the woman asked.

Having aroused Mrs. Chatham’s curiosity, Nancy proceeded to disclose the story of the Tomlin twins. The widow listened with increasing interest.

“How exciting it would be to go on a treasure hunt!” she declared with enthusiasm. “If the missing half of the map could be found, I’d finance the trip. And all of you must come with me. I’d like nothing better. It would be a wonderful vacation, and would do so much for Trixie, I know.”

“Finding the map will be the problem,” Nancy said ruefully. “Mr. Tomlin never mentioned such a paper to you?”

“No, but frequently he said that some day we would go treasure hunting together. At the time I thought he was joking.”

“If he were Tomlin Smith’s twin he must have had the missing portion of the map,” Nancy declared. “But what became of it?”

“It’s barely possible we might find it among the old papers and letters I never looked at carefully. The box was put somewhere in this studio.”

A search was made but the box was not found.

“I can’t understand it,” said Mrs. Chatham. “What do you think, Nancy?”

“I believe that the man we caught in the secret room is mixed up in the affair,” the girl suggested. “If Mr. Chatham never mentioned the place behind the panel, then I doubt he knew about it. The prowler learned of it, maybe by accident, and has been putting stolen things into it.”

“You think he may have put Mr. Tomlin’s box there?” interrupted Bess. “But why?”

“Because he knows the story of the treasure map!”

Nancy’s announcement came like a bombshell to her listeners.

“I suppose you can tell us the man’s name, too,” ventured George. “Oh, Nancy, we just can’t keep up with you.”

Her chum laughed. Then with a twinkle in her eye she replied, “I might make a guess. I’ll bet he’s Spike Doty!”

Nancy went on to explain about the old newspaper account of how one Spike Doty, burglar at Inventor Norse’s mansion, had sued the man who owned Rocky Edge at that time. Next she mentioned that the police had guessed from her drawing and description that the thief at Ellen’s home was Spike Doty.

“Isn’t it reasonable to assume the fellow has found out that your first husband was Mr. Tomlin Smith’s brother and traced Captain John Tomlin’s property here?”

Mrs. Chatham was wide-eyed with admiration at Nancy’s clear thinking.

“It almost proves the relationship of the two Tomlins, doesn’t it?” she said excitedly. “I must drive over at the first opportunity to see Ellen’s father.”

“On my way home I’ll stop at police headquarters to see what I can find out about this Spike Doty,” offered Nancy. “I must leave now. May I come tomorrow and help hunt for the missing box?”

“Yes, indeed,” replied Mrs. Chatham eagerly. “Oh, my, I feel ten years younger with all this excitement!”

Saying good-bye to the woman, the girls hastened to their cars. Bess rode with Nancy while George followed close behind in the Fayne automobile.

“Mrs. Chatham seemed so different today,” Bess commented as they drove along. “Do you think she really may take us all on a cruise?”

“I don’t know, but it would be wonderful. I like her much better now,” Nancy returned. “In fact, I’ve made up my mind to advise Ellen to say ‘yes’ to her.”

“Oh, I’m glad of that. Now that you’ve softened Mrs. Chatham a bit, I’m sure she’ll have no serious trouble. Of course Trixie will be a problem.”

“Oh, the child needs friends, that’s all,” Nancy responded, stopping the car in front of the Marvin home. “Just now we must concentrate all our efforts on finding the missing half of the map.”

After leaving Bess, she drove to the police station. There a surprise awaited her, confirming her suspicions. The footprint made by the intruder at the Rocky Edge studio matched that of Spike Doty!

Upon further inquiry Nancy was told that the fellow first appeared locally as a seaman on a river steamer. After his capture and release as a burglar he had gone to New York to ship on an ocean-going freighter.

“But I guess he’s back here making trouble again,” said the sergeant. “I’ll let you know when we catch him, Miss Drew.”

When she arrived home, Nancy found a letter for which she had been waiting. It was from Bill Tomlin’s father and contained a rather faded photograph of a man of about thirty dressed in a sea captain’s uniform.

“I must show this to Mr. Smith and Mrs. Chatham,” she said excitedly to Mr. Drew.

“But you must get a good night’s sleep first,” her parent insisted. “You’ve had a pretty fatiguing twenty-four hours and you need rest.”

Before retiring, Nancy got in touch with Ellen by phone. Not only did she assure her that it would be all right to accept a position with Mrs. Chatham, but she hinted that an ocean cruise might possibly be in the offing.

“How wonderful!” Ellen exclaimed in a thrilled voice. “I’d love to go on an ocean voyage. If we’re able to go I shan’t mind anything disagreeable—not even Trixie!”

“You mustn’t build up your hopes too high,” warned Nancy. “Everything depends upon my luck when I search the studio storeroom.”

Early the next morning she was on the road to Wayland. The Smiths greeted her cordially, eager to hear the latest developments. The girl told them everything, finally taking the photograph from her purse.

“Do you recognize this picture?” she asked, hoping against hope for good news.

Mr. Smith studied the face for several minutes before speaking. “No, I’m afraid I could not identify my brother from such a late photograph. You remember he was only fourteen when last I saw him. This person doesn’t resemble my mother or father, or myself. I see something about the expression which reminds me of my Grandmother Stafford but that’s all I can say. It’s too bad.”

“I shall ask Mrs. Chatham if she has any pictures of Captain John Tomlin—some at a younger age,” said Nancy, disappointed that her recent clue had failed.

That afternoon she drove to the Chatham mansion alone, for Bess and George had another engagement. Mrs. Chatham already had done a certain amount of investigation in the hidden room.

“So far I haven’t discovered the missing box of papers,” she remarked as they walked to the little studio in the woods. “I certainly hope it hasn’t been stolen.”

The place was topsy-turvy and it took some time to move things around. Underneath a chest Nancy discovered a mass of letters and papers. Mrs. Chatham identified them as belonging to her first husband. Without a moment’s loss of time she set about examining them, but it was tedious and disappointing work. After scanning perhaps fifty communications, she acknowledged that she had not found a single clue.

“I fear we are only wasting our time,” Mrs. Chatham sighed wearily. “My husband may never have had the torn map in his possession.”

Nancy was unwilling to give up. She wandered about the cluttered storeroom, finally stooping to move a pile of small, valuable, oriental rugs in a corner.

“Why, what is this?” she asked in astonishment.

Against the wall where the carpets had lain there was disclosed a rectangle of wood which did not exactly match the other paneling of the room. As Nancy pushed against it the section hinged inward, revealing a small, dark recess.

“Another secret hiding place!” she called to Mrs. Chatham who came quickly to her side.

With excitement mounting steadily, Nancy thrust her arm into the opening.

“I’ve found something!” she cried, and a moment later brought to light a tin box.

“I declare, I never saw such a clever girl!” laughed Mrs. Chatham, kneeling beside her. “Oh, that’s the missing box!”

As she unfastened the lid, Nancy hoped fervently that the missing half of the treasure map would be revealed. Instead, the metal container held only two objects—a bank book and a tiny safety deposit box key.

“There were other things in here once,” Mrs. Chatham said. “Captain Tomlin’s name is written here,” she added, opening the booklet. “This seems to be an account he had in a New York City bank. Can you see what it says, Nancy?”

“There is a sum of twelve thousand dollars on deposit!” said Nancy.

“You mean it’s still there?”

“It must be. No doubt this key unlocks his safety deposit box in the same bank.”

“How careless I was not to have gone over his letters thoroughly,” Mrs. Chatham declared.

“Probably it will be necessary for you to go to New York in order to obtain the money,” suggested Nancy.

“I could fly there within a day or so,” Mrs. Chatham responded, thinking aloud. “But how can I prove my identity? The bank officials may refuse to allow me to open the safety deposit box.”

“Why not get proper identification and papers before going there? I am certain Dad would be glad to help you.”

“I’ll try to see him this very day,” Mrs. Chatham promised. “Nancy, you must come with me to New York. I just couldn’t go alone. We’ll have a wonderful time, and who knows, we may find that missing map!”

Before the girl could reply, Trixie came to the doorway of the studio.

“Mother!” she called shrilly. “You’re wanted at the house!”

“Who wants me, darling?” Mrs. Chatham asked, peering through the open panel.

“I don’t know their names. A man and a woman. I didn’t like them so I made faces at them,” the child giggled.

“Oh, Trixie, when will you learn manners?” Mrs. Chatham sighed.

Excusing herself to Nancy, the woman went quickly toward the house. Her daughter showed no inclination to follow. Entering the storeroom, she made herself a general nuisance by asking questions and disarranging the pile of letters which had been sorted so carefully.

“How would you like to play a magic piano?” Nancy asked to divert the little girl from mischief.

“A magic piano?” Trixie repeated, her eyes opening wide. “Where is it?”

“Here in the studio. You run out there and start playing. I’ll show you.”

After Trixie had seated herself at the piano and played a few notes, Nancy turned the control switch. At once the instrument was silenced.

“How do you do it?” the child laughed. “Show me, please!”

Nancy smiled at the word “please,” so different from Trixie’s usual manned. She showed her how to operate the switch, and from that moment on was not bothered. In less than twenty minutes Mrs. Chatham appeared, somewhat excited.

“Nancy,” she requested, “will you come to the house with me? I want you to meet my callers, Mr. and Mrs. Brown. Their story will interest you, and it may shed light on the matter of the missing map.”

“Then I certainly shall come,” the girl said excitedly.

With Mrs. Chatham she walked swiftly up the winding path to the house. A car Nancy had never seen before stood in the driveway.

“There they are now,” Mrs. Chatham indicated, pointing to a man and a woman who were sitting on the porch.

The couple stared at Nancy. The man said something to his companion, then both arose and hurried to their automobile. As Mrs. Chatham watched in amazement they drove away.

“Well, what do you think of that!” she exclaimed indignantly.

“I not only saw, but I know why they fled,” Nancy responded. “Your guests were the same couple who kidnaped me from Emerson College!”

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