Chapter 21 The Mystery at the Ski Jump by Carolyn Keene
An S O S
For several seconds neither Nancy nor Ned spoke. Each of them was trying to figure out how to get back to the cottage before the storm.
Ned sheltered his eyes with one hand and peered through the rapidly falling dusk. All he could distinguish at first were rolling stretches of snow-covered landscape. The lost snowshoers might have been in the arctic wastelands. Then Ned spied a lean-to and they hiked to it.
“Wood!” he exclaimed, seeing a pile of logs in one corner. “I’m going to build a fire. That may attract someone’s attention.”
“And we can eat,” said Nancy. “I have two chocolate bars in my pocket.”
The crackling fire and the candy revived their spirits, though no one came to guide them out of the snowy wilderness. Finally, when the fire died down, they set off again. Their journey was downhill, which at this moment seemed the easiest to take.
“I have a flashlight,” said Nancy. “I’ll blink an S O S. Three short, three long, then three short. Right?”
“Right.” Ned agreed.
Nancy clicked the signal several times as they crunched along. Again they had just about given up hope of help, and were floundering in a snowbank, when Ned said:
“Listen! I thought I heard a shout.”
Nancy glanced quickly over her shoulder. “You’re right!” she cried. “There is a man over there. It’s John Horn!”
The trapper came plunging toward them through a drift. “I saw your distress signal, folks,” he yelled. “You lost? Why, Nancy! Ned!”
When Ned explained that they were indeed lost, the old man looked hurt. “You should ’a’ asked me to guide you,” he reproached them. “But, anyways, I can show you a short cut through the woods. You can get home before it snows.”
“You’re certainly a lifesaver,” Nancy said gratefully. “As a reward, I’ll tell you some good news. Chuck Wilson is staying at the inn! We saw him this afternoon.”
“You don’t say!” Horn exclaimed, his leathery face spreading into a delighted grin. “Well, I’ll sure have to tramp over there sometime and visit with the boy.”
He started off, with Nancy following and Ned bringing up the rear. Presently the girl noticed that the trapper had about a dozen beautiful mink peltries strapped to his knapsack. She admired them, then asked where they had come from.
“Oh, I picked ’em up,” John Horn answered vaguely. “They’re the best mink there is!”
Nancy developed a worried frown as she tramped silently behind the trapper. Twenty minutes later they came to a well-defined trail, marked with the stompings of many feet.
“Just follow this trail,” said their guide, “and you’ll come to your camp. So long, I’ll drop over tomorrow.”
As the couple watched their rescuer’s sturdy figure vanish into the night, Ned said, “Nancy, you look upset. Surely you’re not afraid we’ll be lost again?”
“No, it’s not that,” she replied. “I was wondering about those valuable peltries John Horn was carrying, and the ones that were stolen from Mr. Wells.”
“Good grief! You don’t think that old man’s a thief, do you?” Ned demanded.
“I hate to think it,” Nancy admitted. “He could have set a lot of traps, I suppose, and had some luck.”
Ned shrugged, then said if Horn had stolen the peltries, more than likely he would have hidden them. Nancy agreed, saying:
“I guess I’m so tired and hungry that my suspicions are getting the better of me.”
The trail led almost directly to the back of the cottage. “We’ve been going in circles,” Ned remarked ruefully, as they climbed the porch steps. The snow had just begun to fall.
They were welcomed by a frantic group. Aunt Lou had been chiding herself for letting the couple go off without a guide, and actually wept with joy to see her niece and Ned.
Again there was supper before a blazing fire, while Nancy and Ned recounted their adventures. The prospect of attending the big ski party at the hotel aroused all the young people’s enthusiasm. They agreed to follow Aunt Lou’s advice and retire early in preparation for the big day.
Nancy was so weary that she tumbled into bed like a rag doll. It seemed as if her head had barely touched the pillow when she heard her aunt’s voice.
“Nancy! Wake up!” Miss Drew urged. “It’s a lovely, sunny day. And there’s a telegram for you, dear. A boy just brought it from the village.”
“Read it to me, please,” mumbled the sleepy girl.
“Very well.” Her aunt hurriedly slit the envelope and scanned the teletyped lines. Then she read the message aloud: “ ‘Nancy, phone me from Longview Hotel. Love, Father.’ ”
“Aunt Lou, I don’t understand,” Nancy said, now fully awake and sitting up in bed. “Why should my father send me a telegram like that?”
“Perhaps he has learned something that will help you solve this fur mystery,” her aunt suggested.
“Perhaps. But why should Dad ask me to phone from the hotel instead of the village? And why would he sign the message ‘Father’ instead of ‘Dad,’ as he always does? Aunt Lou, it looks as if that telegram might be a fake.”
“Oh, dear,” said Aunt Lou, “those thieves have probably found out you’re here. Well, that settles it. No more trips except in a group. And I’m going to phone your father myself from the village.”
When Nancy entered the living room a short time later, she found George and the three boys busily waxing their skis. “We’ve decided to go to the party on skis,” Ned explained. “The snow’s just right, and we’ll work up a better appetite for that trapper’s dinner.” He grinned.
“Dinner?” Nancy asked. “How about breakfast?”
“We’ve eaten, sleepyhead,” George replied.
Nancy prepared bacon, eggs, and toast for herself. She had just finished eating, when Bess came running in, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
“Listen, everybody!” she cried out. “Someone’s been snooping around this house! I saw a lot of strange tracks.”
The others rushed outside. In the new-fallen snow there were indeed a series of footprints encircling the house. A man had been both peeping and eavesdropping!
The young people trailed the tracks away from the cottage and on down to the edge of a small grove. Here they disappeared as mysteriously as they had begun.
Where had the eavesdropper gone and who was he?
Back at the cottage, an ugly possibility reared itself in Aunt Lou’s mind. The fur stock gang had learned of Boyd’s arrest and wanted to get revenge on Nancy! Also, they would stop at nothing to keep her from tracking them down.
Miss Drew felt the responsibility for her niece’s safety weighing heavily on her. Nancy must be protected. It was only a matter of time before the mysterious eavesdropper might return, not to observe, but to strike!