Chapter 8 The Haunted Bridge by Carolyn Keene
The Gardener’s Scare
“SOMEONE should report Barty to the golf committee,” Bess declared angrily. “The nerve of him to move his ball!”
“He ought to be barred from further competition,” George added.
“I agree,” Nancy said.
When the girls reached the hotel they found Carson Drew seated on the terrace. After he had chatted with the three for a few minutes he took Nancy aside and told her that he would have to leave immediately to catch a plane to New York.
“I’d appreciate your driving me to the airport and keeping my car. I must go because New York detectives have asked me to bring the brass chest and its contents there for examination,” he explained.
“Then they think the jewelry may be stolen property?” Nancy asked quickly.
“Yes. Nancy, keep your eyes open for that woman you encountered at Hemlock Hall. She’ll probably be wanted for questioning.”
“All right, Dad. I suspect that her name may be Margaret Judson but I have no proof.”
“You’ve done remarkable work on the case so far,” Mr. Drew praised his daughter warmly. “While I’m gone, watch out. Remember that the woman we’re after is shrewd and dangerous.”
“I’ll be careful.”
In the morning Nancy learned that her golf match would not be played until later in the day.
“Girls,” she said to Bess and George, “I’m driving down to the village to call on Chris’s mother. He said she could tell me more about the Judsons and their burned home.”
Chris had told his mother to expect Nancy. Mrs. Sutter greeted her cordially. She proved to be a loquacious woman who launched into a long account of her children’s achievements and talents. With difficulty Nancy managed to change the subject and talk about the Judson family.
“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Sutter said with a nod. “Chris was telling me you were interested in them, though I told him I didn’t see why anyone would be. They were aloof people, never mixing with their neighbors.
“Margaret was pretty but she aged a lot after her parents died. She was engaged to marry a college professor. I don’t know what happened. After the fire, she just ran off. I did housework for a woman who knew the young man. She told me he was all broken up over it and has not married.”
“Why did Margaret run away?”
“Some said it was because she was so upset over her parents’ death, and then the fire on top of it. Others thought maybe she just wanted to break the engagement and didn’t have the courage to tell the professor.”
“Isn’t any member of the Judson family living in the community now?”
“Oh, no. They’re all gone and no one knows what became of Margaret Judson except perhaps the gardener.”
Mrs. Sutter did not recall the man’s name nor where he lived.
“I heard that he goes to the Judson place sometimes and cuts the weeds. But I guess he’s given up hope that Margaret will ever return.”
“Have you any idea how I can find this gardener, Mrs. Sutter?”
“Not unless you happen to run into him by accident. He doesn’t come to town very often and I don’t know anyone who could tell you where he lives.”
“I’d really like to find him,” Nancy murmured.
“You’re pretty interested in the family, aren’t you?” Mrs. Sutter asked.
Nancy could see that Mrs. Sutter was overcome with curiosity. “I found something near the golf course which I thought might belong to Margaret Judson. That’s why I’m trying to trace her.”
The explanation partially satisfied Mrs. Sutter, and Nancy left before the woman could ask any more questions. On her way to Deer Mountain Hotel she stopped her car at a service station to get gas. She learned from the attendant that the Judson estate could be reached by a dirt road which ran south of the ravine.
“I’ll drive out there on the chance the gardener may be cutting weeds,” Nancy decided. “I’ll still have time to get back for my golf match.”
The trip to the Judson estate took a little over half an hour. Nancy left the car by the roadside and walked up an overgrown lane to the estate. At first she thought the place was deserted. Then suddenly she glimpsed a man some distance away. He was cutting weeds with a hand sickle.
As Nancy moved forward eagerly, he looked up. Seeing her, he dropped his sickle and started to run in the opposite direction.
“Wait!” Nancy begged him. “Please wait!”
The man paid no attention. He leaped onto a bicycle hidden in the bushes, then rode rapidly down a path and disappeared among the trees.
“Don’t run away!” Nancy shouted as she dashed after him.
The man glanced over his shoulder and peddled faster and faster. Breathless from running, Nancy was compelled to abandon the chase. In chagrin she watched him vanish from view.
“Now why did he act that way?” she speculated, frowning.
With a shrug Nancy turned and walked back to her car. At the hotel Bess and George were waiting for her on the terrace.
“Barty won his match yesterday,” Bess announced as Nancy sat down. “George and I happened to see the scorecard.”
“What did he have on number sixteen?” Nancy asked quickly.
“A four. Imagine that!”
“He should have been disqualified for cheating,” Nancy said. “Did you tell the chairman about it?”
“We were going to, but what was the use?” George asked. “He would deny everything.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Bess added.
“Barty was ahead before he came to the sixteenth hole,” George revealed. “He didn’t need to cheat for the match already was his. He just couldn’t bear to take a penalty.”
“It’s disgusting,” Nancy murmured. “I wonder how the other matches are turning out. Let’s watch some of the players.”
They sauntered along the course, pausing at the seventeenth green to watch two players hole their putts. Then they moved on toward the woods.
“Isn’t that Chris Sutter?” Nancy asked presently, indicating a boy just within the fringe of trees.
“He’s peering into the woods at the identical place where your ball went in,” Bess observed.
“I tried to convince him that the area wasn’t haunted,” Nancy said with a chuckle.
It was obvious that he was still afraid to look for the ball. Finally, mastering his misgivings, he disappeared from view. The girls quickened their steps.
Just as they reached the woods, Chris reappeared, apparently unsuccessful in his search for the golf ball.
“No luck?” Nancy asked him.
The boy shook his head. “Sorry.”
“By the way, Chris,” Nancy said, “I’m depending on you to caddy for me today.”
“I’ll be ready whenever you say, Miss Drew.”
“Please be at the first tee by two-thirty. Our match will be a hard one.”
“You’ll win,” Chris said confidently, “and I’ll be pulling for you all the way.”
The girls chatted with Chris for a few minutes. Then, leaving him to continue the search for the autographed golf ball, they walked back to the hotel for luncheon.
While passing through the lobby Nancy saw a letter in her room mailbox. She stopped to ask the clerk for it.
“I’ll bet it’s a note from your new admirer,” Bess declared, giggling.
The letter was indeed from Martin Bartescue. He wished Nancy luck in her afternoon match, and said that he had defeated his opponent by an easy margin.
“If you win today, we must celebrate our joint victory,” he had written. “I look forward to escorting you to the dance at Hemlock Hall.”
“Hm!” Nancy fumed. “He takes it for granted that I’d be thrilled to go.” Then, calming down, she added, “I think perhaps I’ll accept.”
Bess and George stared at her in bewilderment.
“How can you expect to have any fun with him?” George asked.
“I don’t. But it’ll be a good chance to study the guests—investigative work for Dad.”
“Oh, that’s different,” Bess answered in relief. “By the way, two boys here at the hotel have asked George and me to the same dance.”
“We haven’t promised yet,” Bess replied, “but if you want to go with Barty we could accept and all keep together.”
“Good idea,” Nancy agreed after a moment’s thought. “And now, let’s eat lunch. I’ll have to leave soon for my match.”
Later, when the girls came from the dining room, the desk clerk signaled to Nancy. He handed her a telegram that had just been delivered. It was from her father and read:
MEET ME AT AIRPORT TOMORROW MORNING AT SEVEN. JEWELRY IN BRASS CHEST EXAMINED. WE MUST LOCATE OWNER.
Immediately Nancy thought, “Maybe I’ll have some news for Dad. There’s a chance I may see Margaret Judson at Hemlock Hall tonight! For once perhaps Barty has done me a favor by inviting me to the dance there.”
It was after two o’clock when the girls walked to the first tee. Nancy resolutely put aside all thoughts of the baffling mystery. Her opponent, a stout, muscular woman, nodded curtly as she tested out her swing.
Bess whispered to Nancy, “This isn’t going to be a friendly match. Ruth Allison is out to win!”
The two players matched each other stroke for stroke as they played the first three holes. Neither seemed able to gain the advantage. Nancy was conscious that her opponent watched every shot like a hawk, as if hoping to catch Nancy breaking one of the rules of the game. Nancy in turn paid careful attention to every move she made.
Her hand pained her, but she made no mention of the handicap under which she was playing. At first Nancy was able to drive long, straight balls, but gradually her hand became weary and she found herself in difficulty.
Ruth Allison won two holes in succession. A look of smug satisfaction came over her face. It faded, however, when Nancy, fighting gamely, took the next hole, matched her opponent in the following one, and then won again to even the score.
At the sixteenth tee the match was still even. Having won the previous hole, Nancy had the honor of driving first. As she took a backswing with her club, her mind wandered momentarily to the mystery of the jewel thefts. The result was that her ball sliced wickedly. To the horror of Chris it entered the woods.
“Too bad,” Ruth Allison said with a false show of sympathy. “I’m afraid that will put you out of the tournament.”