Chapter 6 The Mystery of the Fire Dragon by Carolyn Keene
The Chase
With Nancy and Bess close on her heels, George was led by her captor from the campus and out to a side street. They were heading for a car parked at the curb. Its engine was running.
“That’s the same car which was following George on the way to the hospital!” Nancy said, recognizing the license number.
“But there’s a different driver!” Bess said.
As the masquerading “Chi Che” and her escort approached the car, the driver called out in a worried tone, “No take. While you were gone I phoned Ryle.”
Startled, George’s captor let go of her, jumped into the car, and it sped off.
Down the street Nancy saw an empty taxi. “Come on!” she cried to Bess, and ran to the cab. As Bess jumped in with her, Nancy called out to George, “Go home and wait for us.” Then she ordered, “Driver, follow those two men who just left here!”
He started the taxi but seemed in no hurry to follow Nancy’s order. Half turning in his seat, he asked, “What’s going on here? You trying to date those guys?”
Nancy ignored the remark and merely said, “It’s very important that we find out where they’re going. Please hurry.”
The driver shrugged and put on a little more speed. The chase took them onto the West Side Highway and downtown. As they reached the exit to Canal Street, the car ahead went down the ramp. The taxi followed.
By this time the suspicious driver of the fleeing car apparently had sensed that his car was being trailed. He made several turns, evidently trying to elude the pursuers.
“Those men may be going out to the end of Long Island,” the taximan grumbled.
“It doesn’t make any difference where they’re going. I’d like you to keep them in view,” Nancy said.
Bess sensed that the taxi driver was getting tired of the chase and probably was wondering whether he was going to get a tip large enough to warrant his trouble. Sweetly she said, “Driver, you’re wonderful. I’ve never ridden with anyone who could handle a car so well.”
The man beamed. “Thank you, miss. Not many people ever give me a compliment. They mostly complain.” Now, eager to co-operate, he resumed the chase. As the taxi sped along Canal Street, suddenly the other car pulled up to the curb and stopped. The two men in it leaped out and ran at top speed down a side street.
“Now what?” the girls’ taximan asked, stopping behind the other car.
“We’ll go on foot from here,” Nancy said.
She glanced at the meter, gave the driver the fare and a generous tip, then jumped from the taxi. She and Bess dashed up the street. The two men they had been following were not in sight.
“Why, we’re in Chinatown, aren’t we?” Bess exclaimed.
“That’s right,” Nancy agreed. “Those men probably don’t live here, so it shouldn’t be too hard to locate them. Somebody may be able to tell us where they are.”
She and Bess went from shop to shop making inquiries, but no one had noticed the two running men. Finally Nancy was forced to admit defeat.
“Let’s try something else,” she told Bess. “We’ll ask about the man called Ryle.”
The girls inquired in the various stores and of people on the street if they knew anyone named Ryle. No one did.
“This is certainly disappointing,” the young sleuth remarked to Bess. “Well, our only chance of finding out who those men are is through the license plate of the car.”
Nancy was determined not to give up her sleuthing completely. “But, at least, Bess, we can ask about Chi Che Soong,” she added. “Let’s try various places on Mott and Pell streets.”
The girls decided to divide the task, with Bess taking one side of the street, Nancy the other. They had been at work on this project for nearly half an hour with no results, when Nancy came to a combination stationery, art, and knickknack store. Bess joined her.
“Remember the hand-painted dragon, Bess? I wonder if the owner of this shop might help us locate the place where the stationery and card were made?”
The girls walked in. First Nancy asked the Chinese shopkeeper if he knew Chi Che Soong. The man shook his head. “I am very sorry. May I help you in any other way?”
Nancy smiled. “Perhaps you can. I see you sell stationery. Have you ever seen any with a small hand-painted dragon in the lower right-hand corner?”
The shop owner opened a drawer and took out several sheets. “Is this what you mean?” he asked.
When Nancy said yes, the man smiled and told her he was the artist.
Nancy was excited by this information. “Do you paint this stationery for some particular person?”
“No, no,” the artist answered. “Many people, both Chinese and American, buy this stationery. I take no special orders. I will be glad to sell you some if you care to have any.”
The young sleuth, thinking the unusual stationery might come in handy, bought a few sheets with envelopes to fit. “Do you also make cards with this design?” she asked.
Once more the man rummaged in the drawer. Presently he pulled out one exactly like the card which had been sent with Grandpa Soong’s hospital flowers. Nancy said she would like to buy three or four.
“You don’t make these on order either?” she asked.
The artist shook his head. Then he in turn asked, “Is there some special reason why you want to know?”
Nancy explained that a Chinese friend of hers had received a beautiful bouquet but that there was no name on the hand-painted dragon card. The recipient was most eager to find out who had sent the flowers.
“It’s possible a man named Ryle is responsible,” said Nancy. “Do you know anyone by that name?”
“Ryle?” the Chinese shopkeeper repeated. He looked into space for several seconds, then said, “A man named Ryle was in here several months ago with a friend. He did not buy any of this stationery or the cards. He was interested in selling me something.”
“Oh, you also buy Oriental objects from people who come in here?” Nancy asked, to draw him out.
“Once in a while,” the shop owner replied. “But in the case of Mr. Ryle, I must admit I refrained. He had some pieces of very fine jade with him. He said he had brought them from the Orient. I was afraid the jade might have been stolen or smuggled and I did not want to get into trouble.”
Nancy’s heart began to beat faster. Here indeed was an interesting clue!
But the young sleuth pretended to be shocked by the possibility that Mr. Ryle was a smuggler. “Then he can’t be the man we have in mind,” she said. “Do you know the first name of the Mr. Ryle who wanted to sell you the jade?”
“No, I didn’t hear it,” the man answered. “The only reason I know his name is Ryle is because his companion called him that. The men haven’t been in here since, so I know nothing more about them.”
“This man named Ryle—was he stout?” Bess queried, hoping to get more information for Nancy.
“No. In fact, he was a small, slender man. But he looked very strong,” the stationer replied. A customer came in just then, so Nancy and Bess took their leave. Out on the street once more, the girl detective said, “I think we’ve hit upon a real clue. This small, slender but muscular man we keep hearing about must be named Ryle! But is Ryle his first or last name?”
“Good question,” Bess remarked. “And how do you spell it?”
The girls walked back to Canal Street to hail a taxi. To their amazement the car in which the two suspects had driven to Chinatown was still standing there.
“I think I’ll phone the police about this,” Nancy told Bess.
She went into a drugstore and called Captain Gray. Without revealing anything about the mystery surrounding Chi Che, Nancy said she had picked up a clue which might lead to the man who had attacked Grandpa Soong. She mentioned the parked car and its license number.
“I’ll look into the matter at once,” the officer promised.
Nancy had a hunch that the car had been abandoned, so there was little point in waiting for the two men to return. She signaled a taxi and directed the driver to take her and Bess back to Aunt Eloise’s apartment.
Meanwhile, George had been having an adventure of her own. Right after Nancy and Bess had driven off in the taxi, a Chinese girl, carrying an armful of books, had rushed up to her. She had spoken excitedly in what George assumed was Cantonese, but the only words George could distinguish were “Chi Che.” Did the girl think she was Chi Che or had she seen through her disguise?
Suddenly the Chinese girl, frowning, looked more closely at George. Then she laughed and in English apologized. “Oh, I thought you were a girl I know named Chi Che Soong. My, how much you look like her! I stopped you because I heard Chi Che left her job at Stromberg’s Bookshop. I wondered if I could get it.”
George Fayne took an instant liking to the attractive Chinese girl. The stranger introduced herself as Lily Alys Wu. After a little more conversation, George had an idea.
“Perhaps I can get the job for you at the bookshop,” she said. “Would you like to talk it over?”
“Yes. But first, please explain why you are costumed and made up the way you are. You see, I am one of Chi Che’s closest friends.”
George smiled but did not reply at once. Could she trust Lily Alys with confidential information about the missing Chi Che?