Chapter 18 The Quest of the Missing Map by Carolyn Keene
Exciting Plans
In the meanwhile Nancy and her chums were enjoying the picnic lunch under the trees, unaware that Mr. Brown and his wife had been in the vicinity.
“Isn’t it wonderful!” Bess declared, reaching for a second helping of potato salad. “We’ve found the map and it may lead to a buried treasure!”
“Providing Mrs. Chatham doesn’t change her mind about financing the trip,” George reminded her. “She might do it at the last minute. What do you think, Nancy?”
“Oh, Mrs. Chatham is very enthusiastic. She expects to ask both of you, also Ned, Ellen, Bill Tomlin and perhaps a few other young people to go along, if we succeed in getting the map together.”
“Isn’t that wonderful!” cried Bess.
“I notice Ned comes first on the list!” George said teasingly. “But we’d have a grand time. Even with Trixie along as general nuisance!”
It was growing late, so after Bess had consumed the last sandwich the girls gathered up the picnic papers and gaily returned to the car.
“Let’s look at the map again!” George suggested. “When first we discovered it I was so excited I barely saw what it was like.”
Bess, who was a few steps ahead of her chums, swung open the car door.
“Why, where is our little ship?” she asked, regarding the empty seat in blank astonishment. “I thought you left it right here, Nancy.”
“I did, Bess. Don’t tell me it’s gone!”
“But it is,” Bess wailed, moving aside so that her chum could see for herself. “Someone must have stolen it while we were away!”
“This is the worst luck ever,” moaned George in anguish. “Think of the hours we spent trying to find that map. Who could have taken it?”
Nancy gazed carefully about the clearing but could see no one.
“I was afraid something like this would happen,” she said in a tranquil voice. “Fortunately it’s not too serious.”
“Not serious!” Bess exclaimed indignantly. “We lose the treasure and our wonderful vacation trip. Then you say it’s not serious!”
Smiling, Nancy opened her purse and displayed the missing section of parchment map.
“I took it with me when we left the car,” she explained to her chums. “As for the little ship, it’s no great loss. In workmanship it is far inferior to the Storm King.”
“Nancy, you’re a darling!” Bess laughed, giving the girl an affectionate hug.
“There’s only one thing that bothers me,” Nancy acknowledged as she placed the map in her pocketbook. “I can’t recall the exact wording which appeared on the bottom of the Warwick.”
“Wording?” George demanded in surprise. “I didn’t notice any.”
“Neither did I,” declared Bess. “What was it, Nancy?”
“I can remember only one word—‘Little.’ No doubt it will come to me when I study the two pieces of map at home.”
The girls had made only a casual inspection of the parchment, for even in a strong light the writing was difficult to distinguish. Nancy was eager to return home so that she could study it under a magnifying glass.
“Shall we start for River Heights?” she proposed to her chums. “We have a long drive ahead of us.”
“And make no attempt to trace the one who stole the ship?” George inquired somewhat reluctantly.
“It would do no good, for we haven’t a single clue,” Nancy responded. “Let’s get home as quickly as we can. I want to combine this section of map with Mr. Smith’s and see how the two fit together.”
Loading the picnic basket into the car, the three girls crowded into the front seat. Nancy tried without success to start the motor. It sputtered a few times, then died completely.
“Now what’s wrong?” she asked in bewilderment. “It never acted this way before.”
“Maybe you’re out of gasoline,” suggested George.
“How could I be? I bought five gallons less than an hour ago.”
Nancy’s gaze swept the instrument panel to confirm her words. Scarcely could she believe her own eyes for the gauge registered empty!
“The tank has been drained!” she exclaimed. “We’re stranded here!”
For the first time the girl lost her usual calm. The nearest gasoline station was a full mile away.
“What are we to do?” Bess asked despairingly.
“Oh, a little hike should help you reduce,” George said, trying to make a joke of it. “Shall we start?”
“Let’s try to signal a car,” Nancy offered as an alternative. “Some kind motorist may give us a ride to the station.”
Fortune smiled upon the girls. In less than five minutes a truck came along. Learning of their difficulty, the driver produced an extra can of gasoline which he always carried for emergencies.
“I’d like to stop at the Smith home and tell Ellen’s parents the good news about the map,” said Nancy, turning in the direction of Wayland.
The man was sad to learn definitely that his twin brother no longer lived, but he expressed great pleasure over the recovery of the long-lost section of treasure map.
“This is my brother’s torn piece,” he declared positively as the parchment was spread before him. “Now I wish I had my own half!”
“Just as soon as I get home I’ll compare this part with the copy I made of yours,” Nancy promised. “One can’t tell much from this, but when the two are put together I’m sure the name of the island and the location of the buried fortune will be clear.”
“Has Mrs. Chatham actually promised to pay for the expedition?” Mrs. Smith inquired dubiously. “I shouldn’t like to encourage her to attempt something which easily could end in failure.”
“If the treasure isn’t found, she’ll not mind,” Nancy rejoined lightly. “She considers the entire affair as a lark.”
“That’s fine, then,” said Mr. Smith with a satisfied sigh.
Before leaving the house, the girls learned that the police had made no progress in catching the thief who had broken into the Smith home several nights ago. Although Nancy did not need the stolen parchment, since she had an accurate copy, she nevertheless feared that those who had taken it might get to the buried treasure first. That night her father voiced a similar opinion.
“After what happened to the model of the Warwick you must be more on your guard than ever,” he warned her anxiously. “The Browns and the other thieves have demonstrated they’ll never give up until they have the fortune.”
Far into the night Nancy and her father studied the two sections of map, fitting them together and trying to decipher Grandfather Tomlin’s writing. Directions for reaching the southern island were fairly clear, but one vital section of a word was missing.
“It would be part of the island’s name,” Nancy commented ruefully. “Plainly it says, ‘Little—lm Island,’ but it’s easy to see more letters appeared on the original.”
“Little Island means nothing,” Carson Drew said, glancing up from an atlas he was inspecting. “Now here’s one called ‘Little Crab.’ ”
“Mr. Smith said the island was uncharted,” Nancy reminded her father.
“That was a long time ago,” replied the lawyer. “No doubt it is on the big maps today. Anyway, I’ll look a little further. Here’s one. Little Palm——”
“That’s it!” cried Nancy suddenly. “Little Palm Island!”
“How do you know? In this expedition a wrong guess will prove to be mighty expensive.”
“I’m not guessing, Dad. The name was carved on the bottom of the ship model which was stolen from my car today.”
“Then everything seems to be cleared up,” Mr. Drew declared in satisfaction. “If Mrs. Chatham gives her approval, we can start looking for a suitable boat to take the party there. It may be a real problem to find one.”
Upon learning that the lost parchment had been recovered, Mrs. Chatham was even more enthusiastic over the expedition than Nancy had dared hope.
“By all means have your father engage a captain,” she instructed. “And do invite the Smith family and any friends you wish. We’ll have a very gay voyage.”
Nancy lost no time in dispatching invitations to Bill Tomlin, Ned, and two young men who were showing George and Bess marked attention. By return mail she received acceptances, and in a whirl of excitement began to plan her own ocean-going wardrobe. Then fell the blow.
“There’s not an ocean-going ship to be had,” her father announced at the dinner table. “I’ve telegraphed and telephoned all day long. It seems as if every boat afloat in the Atlantic has been pressed into special service.”
“Oh, Dad!” Nancy wailed. “Can’t you find one anywhere? Our enemies may get to the treasure ahead of us. Ellen and her parents need it so badly, and half of it rightly belongs to them. We must find it somehow!”