Chapter 19 The Quest of the Missing Map by Carolyn Keene
A Problem Solved
In the days which followed, Carson Drew made several unsuccessful attempts to find a boat suitable for the expedition to Little Palm Island. The few vessels offered him were leaky, unseaworthy affairs, either too large, or much too small.
“I didn’t suppose a yacht would be so hard to procure,” Nancy sighed. “Dear me, some person may get there ahead of us if we delay.”
“They haven’t Captain Tomlin’s section of the map,” her father said encouragingly.
“But don’t forget that a copy of it was stolen by a member of the crew,” his daughter reminded him, recalling the letter found in the New York bank.
Nancy made frequent trips to Rocky Edge to discuss the situation with Mrs. Chatham. Trixie, much better behaved since Ellen had finished school for the year and come to the estate, listened attentively to the conversation. One afternoon, however, the child was not in sight when Nancy arrived at the grounds. Ellen ran down the walk to meet her and the Drew girl knew at once that something was wrong.
“It has happened again!” the young singer cried. “Trixie has disappeared!”
“Kidnaped?” Nancy asked, dumbfounded.
“I think she has wandered away, but I’m not sure. Mrs. Chatham isn’t here and I’m dreadfully worried.”
“Did Trixie talk about going anywhere today?” Nancy inquired thoughtfully.
“Why, yes, now that you remind me, she did! She spoke of going to see you.”
“Gracious!” Nancy exclaimed. “You don’t suppose the child tried to walk all the distance to my home? She’d certainly get lost!”
“What ought we to do?”
“We’ll drive to my place at once,” Nancy said, starting toward her car. “Let’s hope she’s there.”
The girls had little thought that they would find the child without hours of search. For that reason it came as a happy surprise when a few minutes later they saw her walking along the road in the company of a man of middle age.
“That’s not Spike Doty!” Ellen exclaimed nervously.
“There’s no resemblance to him,” Nancy replied, easing on the brake. “I can’t imagine who he is. He walks like a sailor; yes, he is one.”
Trixie’s companion was such a pleasant appearing man that the girls decided he could not possibly be a kidnaper. The child herself explained the situation as she introduced her new friend, Captain Stryver. She had seen the man walking past the estate. Since his uniform looked like those she had seen worn in pictures of men on shipboard, she had followed him to talk with him.
“I didn’t mean to take the child away from her home,” the man apologized, his weather-beaten face creasing into kindly wrinkles. “We were just gabbing a bit about boats.”
“He has one called the Primrose!” Trixie exclaimed, seizing Nancy’s hand. “Oh, why can’t we rent it and go on our treasure hunt after all?”
“I don’t own the ship,” the captain hastened to correct. “Mr. Heppel, my former employer, is her master.”
“The boat isn’t for rent?” Nancy inquired, assuming that the idea was Trixie’s own.
“Mr. Heppel has had more than his share of bad luck the past year,” the captain replied, knocking ashes from his pipe. “Aye, I reckon he’ll be glad to rent the boat if he can. The Primrose is eating up a good sum in storage rates.”
“What type is it?” Nancy asked, her interest increasing. “And where is it?”
“A yacht. There’s not a prettier vessel afloat. She’s tied up in New York. I’m visiting my daughter here in River Heights.”
Nancy asked many additional questions, soon convincing herself that the Primrose was well worth an investigation. She liked Captain Stryver too, and tactfully inquired if his services could be obtained should a voyage be made to a southern island.
“Nothing would suit me better than a cruise in those waters,” he assured her heartily. “I know that locality like a book.”
Nancy made up her mind that if plans should develop as she hoped, Captain Stryver would be placed in command of the Primrose and her crew. After talking with him for nearly a half-hour, she learned that Mr. Heppel was coming to River Heights the following day to talk to the captain, so she made an appointment to meet him. Her spirits were high, for she believed that the intensive search for a suitable boat might be nearing an end.
Considering that Trixie had been responsible for calling the Primrose to their attention, neither Ellen nor Nancy could chide her. They explained carefully why she could be punished for leaving home. When they saw how sincerely she had meant to help, they stopped at a drug store and treated the child to ice cream.
Carson Drew was highly pleased to learn of the Primrose, and with Nancy called upon Mr. Heppel the next day. They found the man to be very reasonable, willing to rent his yacht for a fair sum.
“If you need a captain may I strongly urge that you take Mr. Stryver,” the owner said as the deal was concluded. “He’s an honest, dependable man and has followed the sea his entire life.”
Nancy and her father were only too glad to accept the suggestion. Captain Stryver promptly was engaged and assigned the task of selecting a crew for the Primrose. Happily he left for New York at once.
Preparations for the voyage were at their height when Nancy received an unexpected summons to the local police station. She was told that Tim Dapp, the prisoner, had requested to see her.
“We think maybe he’s decided to talk,” an officer said as he escorted the girl to the prisoner’s cell. “See what you can get out of him.”
The steel door clicked shut and Nancy was left alone with the young man. Instantly she noted a great change in him; he had lost much of his defiance.
“You sent for me?” she asked as he did not speak.
“Yeah. What will you give me to spill the whole works to you?”
“I’m not prepared to pay you any money, if that’s what you mean,” Nancy returned, watching him closely. “What is it you want of me?”
“Will you promise to get me out of here if I tell you everything?”
“I’ll do what I can for you, providing your case seems to merit it. Why not tell your story to the police?”
“They’d never believe me,” the young man said bitterly. “I hate cops! They railroaded me once before for something I didn’t do.”
“You were caught accepting money from Mrs. Chatham for kidnaping,” Nancy reminded the fellow severely. “The charge against you is a very serious one.”
“I know,” the young man agreed, beginning to pace the cell. “I can’t sleep nights for thinking what they may do to me.”
“Suppose you tell me all about it.”
“Okay, I will,” Dapp agreed suddenly. “It was Spike Doty who arranged the job. He’s been working for a sailor who knew a Captain Tomson or something like that.”
“Tomlin?” Nancy supplied.
“Yeah, that was it. Well, this sailor once overheard the Captain tell about a torn map that was supposed to lead to a buried treasure. This may sound pretty queer to you, but it’s the truth.”
“Go on,” Nancy encouraged, without revealing that she had heard the story before.
“Right away Spike got interested in that map and decided to trace it.”
“And did he succeed in gaining possession of it?”
“I can’t tell you that. I know he thought the captain’s widow was worth watching. One day he saw a good chance to hide Trixie in the studio and get some easy money—he said it wasn’t really kidnaping. He meant to let her go.”
“That scarcely lessens his guilt,” commented Nancy, “or yours either.”
“I didn’t want to collect the money but Spike made me do it. He had something on me. Anyway, he didn’t tell me the whole story until after I had collected the money.”
“Did he pay you for your work?”
“Not a penny. I got nothing out of it and now I’m taking the rap.”
“Perhaps you won’t,” Nancy said to cheer him. “I promise I’ll do what I can for you. In the meanwhile you’ll be much safer here in jail than in Spike Doty’s clutches.”
“Guess you’re right at that,” the young man admitted. “If he learns I’ve spilled the story, this town won’t be big enough to hold us both.”
Tim Dapp had told a straightforward story which Nancy was inclined to believe. However, there were many things which puzzled her. She felt certain Spike Doty could not have known that a copy of Captain Tomlin’s half of the parchment had been stolen. Otherwise he would not have looked for the original at Rocky Edge. But maybe he was there for some other reason. And what was his connection with Fred and Irene Brown? How many were involved in the scheme to find the treasure?
“The very worst would be that Doty or his agents already are on their way to Little Palm Island!” she thought. “We must sail as soon as Captain Stryver can outfit the Primrose.”
Before leaving the cell, Nancy questioned Dapp at length. While he could offer no additional information about Spike’s plans, he was able to provide the address of a rooming house where he believed the sailor had been staying.
Satisfied that the young man was not really guilty of a crime, Nancy requested police to give him more kindly treatment than in the past. After receiving their promise that they would do what they could to help Dapp, she left the building. As she stood debating what to do, Ned Nickerson drove up in his car.
“Hello, Nancy,” he greeted her. “May I take you home?”
“I wasn’t thinking of going there,” she laughed, taking the seat beside him. “You may not like my destination.”
“I’ll drive you to wherever you say.”
Nancy handed him the address of Spike Doty’s rooming house.
“Say, this is the worst district in town!” the youth protested as he read the street number.
“I know,” admitted Nancy, “but I’m on the trail of Spike Doty. I don’t want to give the information to the police without being sure Dapp didn’t mislead me.”
Ned was glad to be of assistance, so he drove to the rooming house. An untidy landlady answered their knock, telling them in a harsh voice that the man they sought had gone away the day before, taking his belongings with him.
“Can you tell us his new address?” Nancy asked hopefully.
“I cannot,” the landlady answered crossly. “He said he was making an ocean voyage.”
Deeply disappointed, Nancy and Ned returned to the parked car.
“Just our luck to miss him,” the young man commented gloomily.
“I’m afraid Doty may have left for Little Palm Island,” Nancy added, frowning. “Oh, Ned, if we don’t get started on our expedition soon we may lose the treasure!”
Barely had the two driven away than a second car stopped in front of the rooming house. Fred and Irene Brown alighted. Presenting themselves at the door, they likewise inquired for Spike Doty.
“Say, you’re the second ones that have asked about that man,” the landlady said irritably. “I’m getting tired of answering questions. Doty’s gone.”
“Who was it that came here today?” Fred Brown inquired alertly.
“They didn’t give their names. It was a boy and his girl friend, I guess.”
The Browns glanced at each other, then asked a few more questions. They obtained a complete description of Nancy. Having learned what they wished to know, they thanked the landlady with exaggerated politeness and drove away.
“Without question it was Nancy Drew,” Irene told her husband. “This thing is getting too close to us for comfort!”
“Don’t worry, she won’t get ahead of us,” he retorted with a shrug. “I’ll fix her.”
“You said that when you stole the ship model. But what did we get? Nothing!”
“This is different, Irene. I have a dandy scheme. Listen, my dear, just listen—” and he laughed cunningly.