Chapter 17 The Mystery at the Ski Jump by Carolyn Keene
In the Police Net
The rear stairs in the nursing home were narrow and unlighted. There was a sharp turn halfway down. When the excited girls reached the steps, a door at the foot slammed.
“Boyd’s gone!” Nancy thought woefully, groping for the handrail.
The girls raced down the steps. As Bess reached the turn, she tripped and fell against Nancy who was just ahead of her.
“Oh!” Nancy murmured, nearly losing her balance.
George groaned and helped Bess to her feet, saying, “Hold on to that rail!”
The delay gave the fleeing man a good head start. When the girls finally dashed through the back door and onto the grounds, Sidney Boyd was nowhere in sight.
“He’s gone!” Bess wailed. “And it’s all my fault. I’m terribly sorry, Nancy.”
“Never mind the tears,” George said, her eyes roaming in every direction. “Where’d that man go?”
“Let’s separate!” Nancy advised. “It’s the only way to find him.”
George dashed around the left side of the house but did not see Boyd. She kept on going toward the front.
Bess raced toward the rear of the grounds to a garage. The thief was not hiding inside, so the girl sped around to the back of it. The man was not there, nor was he running across the field beyond.
Meanwhile, Nancy had made a beeline for the grove of birches at the right side of the nursing home. She darted from tree to tree, and suddenly spotted her quarry crouched behind a clump of saplings.
Sidney Boyd saw her coming. He jumped up and sprinted toward the road.
Nancy, fearful she could not hold the thief even if she caught him, cried out loudly:
“Help! Help!”
She kept on running. The distance between her and Boyd was narrowing.
“Help! Help!”
Her plea had been heard. George, who had come face to face with the two policemen from the radio car, pointed excitedly and jumped into their automobile.
“Hurry!” she urged. “The thief—Sidney Boyd—he’s down the road! Nancy Drew’s found him!”
The driver sped in the direction of the sound. Another cry for help!
“Oh, dear, I hope he isn’t hurting Nancy!” George exclaimed worriedly.
Just then they saw Boyd, who now crossed the road and started over an open field. The police car stopped. The driver got out and sprinted after the thief. Within a few seconds he had overtaken him. When the others reached the spot, Boyd was trying to shake himself free from the officer’s iron grasp.
“What’s the meaning of this outrage?” he sputtered.
“You’ll know fast enough,” the policeman told him. Turning to Nancy, he gave her a quizzical glance. “Suppose you tell him, miss.”
“Who is this girl?” Boyd snapped, giving Nancy a venomous glare.
“Nancy Drew,” she replied. “I’m sure you’ve heard of me through your friend Mitzi Channing.”
The man winced but instantly denied the accusation.
“The New York police are looking for you,” Nancy went on. “Bunny Reynolds wants those diamond earrings you sold to her, then stole.”
Boyd’s face was livid, and he had become speechless. The policeman told him to march to the car; the conversation would continue back at the Restview Home.
Bess met them on the porch. “Oh, Nancy, I’m so glad you caught him!” she exclaimed. “Now poor Mrs. Bellhouse can get her thousand dollars back. Let’s not tell her the stock is worthless. She might have another attack.”
“Worthless?” Boyd repeated indignantly. “What do you mean?”
“You know there’s no Forest Fur Company at Dunstan Lake, Vermont,” George accused him.
A suave smile suddenly spread over Boyd’s face.
“If there’s anything phony about the Forest Fur Company,” he said with an injured look, “that’s not my fault. I’m merely a broker.”
“There’s a warrant out for your arrest,” said the policeman. “You can tell your story to the judge. But first we’re going to call on Mrs. Bellhouse.”
While one policeman began a search of their glowering prisoner, the other one went upstairs to get evidence from the elderly woman. When the thousand dollars was taken from the prisoner, Bess asked apprehensively:
“You’ll return the money to Mrs. Bellhouse, won’t you?”
“Of course,” the officer agreed. “And, by the way, Miss Drew, I’d like you to ride back with me. Your friends can follow along in that convertible of yours.”
A few minutes later, with Nancy beside the driver and Sidney Boyd handcuffed to Detective Jones in the rear seat, the police car headed for the Winchester Police Headquarters. George and Bess followed in Nancy’s convertible.
“You arrived at the nursing home just in the nick of time,” Nancy complimented the policeman. “Thanks.”
“You deserve most of the credit for this capture, Miss Drew,” the officer said. “That’s why I’m taking you to headquarters.”
Reaching it, Nancy was introduced to the captain, who praised her highly for her fine detective work. After Boyd had been arraigned and committed to a cell in the jail, the captain brought out a photograph from his file.
“Miss Drew,” he said, smiling, “since Boyd’s case is as much yours as the police’s, I think we should share some information one of our men picked up this morning. Boyd never came to the post office—I believe he was tipped off not to—but a letter arrived for him. This is an X-ray photo of it.”
The letter, postmarked New York, was brief, but startling. It read:
“Dear Sid:
Tell Dunstan to come across with some pay or there won’t be any more stock printed.
Ben”
“It means,” the captain said, “that the fur stock is printed in New York, and that Sidney Boyd is definitely one of the gang. I’m going to send one of the stock certificates to the New York police and have them trace that printer Ben.”
At this moment the captain’s telephone rang, so Nancy thanked him for his help, then went outside to her car.
“Hypers!” George cried. “We began to think we’d have to bail you out.”
“And between us, we have only three dollars and fifty cents.” Bess giggled. “What were they doing to you in there?”
As Nancy drove toward River Heights, she told the girls about the mysterious printer, Ben.
“With Boyd and Ben out of the way, the rest should be easy,” Bess prophesied. “Nancy, you deserve a vacation. How about it?”
Nancy’s eyes suddenly twinkled. “Good idea,” she said. “How would you girls like to go to Aunt Lou’s lodge in the Adirondacks? She has a vacation coming up. Maybe she’d chaperon us.”
“Oh, but we’d freeze up there!” Bess shivered.
“Poof!” George scoffed. “The lodge has a big fireplace and think of all the fun we could have—skiing and bobsledding!”
“Besides,” Nancy said, “it’s between semesters at Emerson University. Maybe we could invite the boys.”
At this last suggestion Bess definitely perked up. Soon the girls were making enthusiastic plans in which their friends, Ned Nickerson, Dave Evans, and Burt Eddleton were to be included.
“Look, there’s more behind this idea of yours than just a house party,” Bess said presently. “It has something to do with that fur mystery.”
“Could be,” Nancy admitted. “Remember Aunt Lou first heard of Dunstan Lake when she was at her summer home. It’s possible Lake’s camp is in that vicinity.”
“And you figure we can do some sleuthing up there with the boys?” Bess asked.
“Exactly,” Nancy admitted. “Suppose you come into my house while I phone my aunt. I hope we can start day after tomorrow.”
“So soon?” George grinned broadly.
Bess was thoughtful. “What about the boys? Suppose they can’t go?” she quavered. “It wouldn’t be safe up there without some men. I’ve heard the Adirondacks are full of bears—”
“Who sleep all winter,” George added in disgust.
Nancy laughed. “There probably won’t be anything more dangerous around than some minks.”
“But I thought you said those stock swindlers—” Bess began.
“No need to worry yet,” Nancy advised. “First I have to see about Aunt Lou, and if she can go, then—”
“Then how the wires to Emerson will hum!” George finished.