Chapter 4 The Clue of the Dancing Puppet by Carolyn Keene
Stage Gossip
Stumbling across the hay, Nancy wondered what George had located.
“It’s hard and heavy,” George told her.
Nancy helped her friend pull the hay aside. “If this thing had been hidden much deeper, it would have fallen between the mow poles to the floor below,” George said.
Finally the object was revealed. It proved to be a heavy wooden chest.
“This is like lead!” George remarked. She tried to lift the lid of the box but failed.
Nancy took a turn. She frowned. “There’s no lock on this, but the box simply won’t open.”
For several minutes the girls took turns trying to pry open the mysterious little chest, without success. Suddenly Nancy said, “This reminds me of a box I once saw in the River Heights Museum. The attendant there showed me how to open the secret lock.”
Deftly she felt along the back, pressing hard with one thumb. To her delight, she struck the right spot. The lid of the chest flew up!
The two girls gazed within, then looked at each other completely astonished. The box contained two small cannon balls!
“There is just space in here for a third one!” George exclaimed. “That third one must have been the very ball that hit you yesterday.”
“Which would seem to prove,” Nancy added, “that somebody sneaked up with it to the attic when no one was in sight, and hurled it at me.”
The statement alarmed George. She began to look around fearfully and whispered, “Do you suppose anyone is hiding under the hay?”
“We’ll soon find out,” said Nancy, getting up from her kneeling position. “Let’s take a look.”
Once more the girls began kicking the hay that covered the entire loft. They found no one in hiding.
“I suppose we should remove this chest before someone else can do any damage with its contents,” suggested Nancy. But the two girls found the chest too heavy and awkward to carry. “Maybe it would be better if we get that cannon ball out of the attic and bring it here to see if it matches these,” the young detective decided.
“And if it does,” George said, “we’ll have one clue.”
She and Nancy hurried down the ladder and back to the house. Bess was amazed to hear what the girls had found and went with them to the attic.
“Do you think the person who threw the cannon ball is also connected with the puppet mystery?” she asked Nancy.
“I can’t say,” Nancy answered. “Not enough evidence to go on yet. By the way, let’s not all face in the same direction in case another attacker is up here.”
George stood guard at the head of the stairway, while Bess kept a sharp lookout for anyone who might be lurking in the attic. Nancy searched for the cannon ball.
“Why, it’s gone!” she cried out.
“Gone!” the others echoed. George added, “I guess the person who threw it is clever enough to remove any evidence against him.”
“You’re right,” Nancy agreed. “We’ll really have to be on our toes to catch this culprit!”
As the girls gathered at the top of the stairway, she added in a whisper, “I suggest we don’t go back to the haymow now, but watch it tonight. We may learn more then.”
Nancy further suggested that the girls not tell the Spencers or anyone else what they had discovered so far. “I’d like to pick up more clues first,” she said.
By noontime the Spencers and Emmet Calhoun appeared, ready for brunch. Margo was vivacious and humorous, laughing about the way she kept house.
“Everything out of a can or the freezer,” she said. “Paper plates and cups on all occasions. A cleaning woman comes every other day,” she explained. “Our hours are too uncertain for us to have a full-time maid.”
Nancy smiled. “You have a well-stocked refrigerator and pantry,” she remarked. “Nobody should ever go hungry here.”
She fixed a tasty fruit salad, while Bess and George helped Margo warm tomato soup and broil hamburgers. Dessert was a cake from a River Heights bakery.
Conversation during luncheon was confined exclusively to the activities of the theater. There was laughter and banter among the three professionals, and though the girls did not understand the many innuendoes that passed between the Spencers and Emmet Calhoun, they thoroughly enjoyed what Mr. Spencer called “backstage gossip.”
Cally old boy from time to time quoted from Shakespeare. Often he would rise from the table and speak with dramatic gestures. Once, when the conversation turned to the fact that this professional group was living on a former farm far removed from the Broadway theater atmosphere, he quoted:
“ ‘And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.’ ”
Bess’s eyes had grown wide. How she wished she could act as dramatically as Emmet Calhoun! She told him this, adding, “I’m trying hard. Maybe someday I’ll have a part in a play.”
The actor was enormously pleased by her flattering remark. “I suppose you girls know that quotation was from As You Like It,” he said.
Mr. Spencer laughed. “Don’t coax Cally old boy to recite too much. I think he knows every line in every Shakespearean play, and if you don’t watch out, he’ll be reciting them all to you!”
When the meal was over, the girls offered to tidy up. Without hesitation Margo accepted. “I really should go into town and do some shopping,” she said. “There’s no performance tonight, you know, so that will give me time to finish my errands.”
“If you girls are looking for a job,” Mr. Spencer added, “there is some scenery to be painted for our next production.”
“When is that show going on?” Bess asked. Secretly she was hoping she might be given a small part.
“It’s supposed to start week after next,” the actor answered, “but things aren’t going very well at rehearsals. I don’t know what’s the matter with the Footlighters. They’re doing a pretty good job in the current play; but the one coming up—well, not one of the people chosen for the parts has caught on except Tammi Whitlock.”
“I watched her last night,” Nancy spoke up, glad to hear more about the amateur actress. “I thought she did a marvelous job.”
“Oh, Tammi is talented, but she’s too egotistical about her ability,” Mr. Spencer said. “Besides, she’s kind of a troublemaker. If she weren’t so good, I wouldn’t give her any part at all.”
“Troublemaker?” Nancy repeated, hoping to learn more.
Mr. Spencer said she was not well liked by the other actors and actresses. “She tries to lord it over everybody,” he explained, “and is sarcastic and unkind in her remarks to the people who do not learn so quickly as she does.”
Suddenly the girls realized that Margo was looking intently at Emmet Calhoun. She seemed to be telegraphing a message to him. Mr. Spencer, feeling perhaps that he had gone far enough in his confidences, stopped speaking abruptly. Margo arose from the table and Mr. Spencer and Cally old boy left the house.
When the girls were alone, Bess said, “What did you make of all that, Nancy?”
“You’ll be surprised when I tell you,” Nancy replied. “I have an idea Emmet Calhoun is very fond of Tammi Whitlock.”
“What on earth gave you that idea?” George asked.
“A little signal that Cally old boy seemed to be getting from Margo. I thought Mr. Calhoun was going to come to Tammi’s defense, but Margo seemed to be warning him not to.”
Bess sighed. “You’re probably right, Nancy. But I’d like to bet that Tammi is no more interested in Cally old boy than I am.”
The three girls worked hard that afternoon on a large piece of scenery which was to represent a tree-surrounded lake with swans floating on it. Finally paint and brushes were put away. The girls ate their supper alone, and in a low voice Nancy told of a plan she had in mind.
“Let’s take my car and pretend we’re going to town. We’ll park it on the side road and then sneak back here to spy on the place.”
“You mean watch the hayloft?” George asked.
“Yes, and,” Nancy added with a chuckle, “we may see the dancing puppet!”
As soon as it was dark the three friends drove off. Nancy went about half a mile from the Van Pelt estate, then turned into a narrow dirt road. She pulled the car far over onto the shoulder, and turned off the lights.
“Somebody is coming up in back of us,” George remarked. “We’d better not get out until the car passes.”
The girls sat still.
“Duck!” Nancy ordered. “We can’t risk being seen!”
They huddled together with their faces toward their knees. In a few seconds the oncoming car, instead of passing, rammed right into the convertible.
There was a crash of glass! The three girls blacked out!