Chapter 20 The Quest of the Missing Map by Carolyn Keene
Held Prisoner
Unaware that Mr. and Mrs. Brown had traced her recent movements, Nancy requested Ned to take her directly home. Several hours later she was busily engaged in mending a dress when the postman arrived with several letters.
Glancing through them, she found one addressed to her in pencil. The childlike scrawl suggested that it had been written either by a very young or by an uneducated person.
“Now from whom can this be?” Nancy mused, ripping open the envelope.
A message had been written on a sheet of cheap tablet paper. It read:
“Dear Mis Drew: I tuk yere boat cos I need money but I can’t sell it. You kin hev it back fer five dollars. It says sumthin importent inside. Don’t tell the perlice and come alone on foot to 47 White Street.”
Nancy read the message a second time, then ran to the kitchen to show it to Hannah.
“This shatters one of my very best theories!” she declared excitedly. “I rather thought the ship model was stolen by Fred and Irene Brown. This note proves I was wrong.”
“It appears to have been written by an urchin,” the housekeeper commented as she read the message. “He signs himself ‘Ted.’ ”
“Probably he was afraid I might not follow the instructions and turn him over to the police.”
“What will you do, Nancy?”
“I hardly know. I don’t like to take a boy to Juvenile Court without being sure it’s the right thing to do. I wish I could talk with him.”
“You want to get that little ship back,” Mrs. Gruen said dryly.
“I’ll admit my curiosity has been aroused,” Nancy admitted with a laugh. “I never dreamed anything was written inside it. Strange I failed to notice a clue so plain to see.”
“I hope you’re not thinking of giving the boy five dollars!” Mrs. Gruen said with disapproval. “The very idea of paying for one’s own goods!”
“I’ll not give him money if I can get the Warwick model any other way,” Nancy responded. “If I hurry I’ll have time to run over to White Street before dinner.”
“You’re not thinking of walking so far?”
“It is a long distance, but this note says to come on foot——”
“I’ll never allow you to walk through such a district as you’d have to to get to White Street,” the housekeeper said flatly.
“Then I’ll take the car,” Nancy decided, skipping away.
Mrs. Gruen did not entirely approve of the mission, but knowing how much it meant to the girl, she refrained from voicing a further protest. Nancy was well on her way to White Street before it occurred to her as odd that the urchin Ted had known her name and address.
“He may have had someone trace our family through the license number of the car,” she thought. “Still, it seems strange he would go to so much trouble.”
Nancy had no intention of walking into a trap and therefore made up her mind she would never enter the house. Instead, she would insist that the ship model be brought to her.
White Street proved to be shabby and old-fashioned with houses set very close. Many of them displayed “For Rent” signs. As she drew up before Number 47, she saw a boy with a sharp, shrewd face sitting on the porch. Evidently he had been expecting her, for he quickly came to the car.
“Are you Ted?” she asked, trying not to seem unfriendly.
“That’s me,” he agreed in a gruff voice, “but you was supposed to come on foot. You want to see the boat?”
“Yes, I do, Ted. May I ask why you stole it from my car?”
“You kin ask but I ain’t goin’ to answer no questions,” the boy retorted saucily. “You give me the five bucks and you git your boat.”
“I’ll pay you when you bring it to me.”
“Not on your life. Give me the money now.”
“I’m not willing to do that,” Nancy refused, fearing she might never see the Warwick if she should act so rashly. “You must bring it to me.”
“Grandma won’t let it go without the money,” the boy said stubbornly. “She’s sick a-bed and we need the cash. If you want to see the ship, you gotta come upstairs.”
Nancy felt that it might be unwise to enter the house, yet the boy seemed straightforward and curiosity overcame her better judgment. Somewhat reluctantly she followed Ted up a flight of worn stairs through a dark hall to a bedroom.
“Grandma, this is the girl,” Ted said by way of introduction. “You kin talk to her.”
He disappeared, closing the door behind him. Nancy was startled by his sudden departure but tried not to show alarm. After all, she attempted to reassure herself, nothing seemed amiss. The Warwick was in plain sight on the table beside the bed.
“You pay the five dollars and you can have the boat,” the grandmother said in a squeaky voice. “Only you must promise you won’t make trouble for Ted.”
“Very well,” consented Nancy.
At the moment she desired nothing so much as to get away from the house. Taking a crisp five-dollar bill from her purse she laid it on the table.
“All right, the ship is yours,” the grandmother said, reaching for the money. “Carry it carefully.”
Her final words had a ring of satisfaction which Nancy failed to note. Turning from the bed she lifted the model from the table.
As she was thus occupied, the grandmother suddenly threw off the covers and leaped from bed. Simultaneously, Fred Brown appeared from a hiding place inside a closet and tried to pin Nancy’s arms behind her. As the girl struggled violently the ship crashed to the floor.
Although she fought with all her strength she was no match for the two assailants. In a moment they held her fast.
“The clever Miss Drew wasn’t so clever this time!” the man gloated, taking a gag from his pocket.
“She fell for our little scheme, hook, line, and sinker!” Irene Brown chuckled. “Never once suspected that I had disguised myself as a sick grandma!”
Securely trussed, Nancy was taken through a special exit to the vacant house adjoining the one she had entered. There she was seated at a table and told she must write a letter to Hannah Gruen. She was to request that the piece of map found in the ship model be sent to her at once.
“We’ll hold you here until we get it!” Fred Brown threatened. “And don’t try any funny business in that letter. It won’t get by.”
Despairingly, for she knew the Browns would have no mercy, Nancy slowly composed the message.
“Make it short and snappy,” the man urged impatiently. “Just write that you need the map and want it given to the bearer of the note.”
Nancy knew she could not include anything in the message which would make the housekeeper understand her true situation. There was just one faint hope of outwitting this man. Desperately recalling the words used at the time she and her chums had found the map, she felt she dared to use the word “copy.” Accordingly she wrote:
“Please give bearer the copy of the map found in the ship model. Nancy.”
“Perhaps if I concentrate very hard, I can get a thought wave to Hannah, so she’ll make a copy and not exactly a correct one,” the girl told herself. “It’s my one hope.”
Unknown to Nancy, her father and Ned already were alarmed over her long absence from home. Informed by the worried Hannah Gruen that she had gone sometime before to the White Street address, they set off in the young man’s car to search for her.
“It isn’t like Nancy to stay away so long without any explanation,” the lawyer declared as the automobile stopped at the curb. “I can’t help feeling she may have walked into a trap.”
They rang the doorbell, receiving no response. At last Mr. Drew became impatient. Trying the door and finding it unlocked, he boldly entered.
“Why, this place is deserted,” he observed to Ned as they looked into the lower rooms. “You’re sure we have the right address?”
“Mrs. Gruen wrote it on paper for me. This is the place all right.”
“Then well try upstairs,” the lawyer said, leading the way.
The first door confronting him opened into the bedroom where Nancy had been taken prisoner. Entering ahead of Ned, Mr. Drew saw an overturned chair. Lying beside it was the broken model of the Warwick.
“There’s been a struggle here!” he exclaimed, losing his usual calm. “Something has happened to Nancy!”
With increasing anxiety he and Ned searched the entire house. They entered every bedroom but were unable to find any trace of the missing girl. While the older man continued to search for clues, his companion went down the street to ask neighbors if they had observed anything amiss. Ten minutes later Ned returned with a discouraging report.
“I couldn’t arouse anyone, Mr. Drew. Must have rung four or five doorbells, too. The house next to this one is vacant.”
“To the east or on the west side?” the lawyer asked alertly.
“The east. It adjoins this room where the struggle apparently took place.”
Mr. Drew had been fingering a small object which he now showed to Ned. It was an ornamental button from a dress.
“I picked this up from the floor of the closet,” he explained.
“Here in this room?” Ned asked, examining the button with interest.
“Yes. Do you think it came from Nancy’s dress?”
“Gosh, you couldn’t prove it by me!” the young man replied regretfully. “I never notice clothes much.”
“Nor do I. Suppose you telephone to Hannah Gruen and ask her for a description of the dress Nancy wore today.”
“I’ll be glad to,” Ned responded, starting away. “Maybe Nancy has come home since we left.”
Carson Drew held no such hopeful theory. After the youth had gone he centered his investigation on the closet where he had picked up the ornamental button. Knowing Nancy as he did he was sure that if it were at all possible she would have left a clue to her present whereabouts.
Unexpectedly the lawyer noticed something which previously had escaped his attention. Although cleverly disguised with wallpaper, the back of the closet was made of wood instead of plaster. When he rapped it with his knuckles it gave off a peculiar hollow sound.
“It’s a door!” he exclaimed. “The pattern of the paper hides the outline! And here’s a keyhole.”
Mr. Drew pushed against the door but could not open it. He was still trying to do so when Ned returned to say that Mrs. Gruen positively had identified the ornamental button.
“It was on the dress Nancy wore today,” he told the attorney. “She hasn’t returned home either.”
“For a very good reason, Ned! She has been captured. I feel sure she was taken through this door in the closet.”
“It must open into the vacant house next door!”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Let’s break the door down,” said Ned eagerly.
“And notify the kidnapers what we’re doing? No, I think we had better proceed quietly. Have you any keys in your pockets?” he asked, pulling out a bunch of his own. “This is an ordinary lock.”
“I usually carry an assortment,” the young man admitted, bringing forth a case. “But none that will unlock this door, I’m afraid.”
One by one Carson Drew tried the keys. The next to the last one fit and to his satisfaction unlocked the door.
“Now be cautious,” he advised the boy as he thrust it open. “There’s no telling what we may run into.”
Never dreaming that her father and Ned were so close, Nancy remained alone in a tiny storeroom ventilated by only one small window. Before leaving her, the Browns had replaced the gag and trussed her securely once more. She was thoroughly uncomfortable.
“What will Hannah Gruen do when she gets my note?” she thought unhappily. “Oh, if something good only would happen!”
At that very moment Irene Brown was ringing the doorbell of the Drew home. Back of the hedge stood her husband, chuckling to himself. No one was home but the housekeeper. Should she become suspicious, she could not summon help, for he had cut the telephone wire to the house.
“Good evening,” Irene Brown said pleasantly as Hannah Gruen opened the door. “I have a note for you from Miss Drew. I don’t know what it says, but she asked me to wait for an answer.”
“Will you come inside?” asked the housekeeper.