Chapter 18 The Invisible Intruder by Carolyn Keene
Warning to Nancy
“DID I hear you right?” Rita spoke up. “Bill, you said, ‘Everything in the world is supernatural.’ ”
“That’s right,” he answered. Everyone listened attentively as he went on, “Think of the millions of things around you—a clamshell for instance. Only God can make a clam,” he said, paraphrasing Joyce Kilmer.
His audience nodded and Bill went on, “You probably think of clams as being plentiful and common. There are many varieties that aren’t seen often. Take the man-eating clam as an example.”
“Man-eating clam!” Bess exclaimed. “Where do you find that?”
“On the Great Barrier Reef. When you go shelling there, you’d better wear a heavy pair of high sneakers because the Tridacna gigas may give you a bad bruise.”
Bill said that this man-eating clam grew to be three to four feet across. “Its scalloped opening is dotted with dozens of glowing eyes and it sometimes weighs as much as five hundred pounds!”
“Wowl” Don exclaimed. “That’s not for me.”
Helen asked how the clam could eat a man.
Bill smiled. “Personally I don’t believe it does, because the clam is slow at closing and one would have plenty of time to get out of its way.”
He grinned. “It’s said that the Tridacna gigas can carry a pearl as large as a golf ball. If a person were foolish enough to try to drag it out, then he might have an arm clamped between the two halves of the shell.”
Helen pretended to shiver and said, “I’ll look at that creature in a museum, not a reef.”
When the police officers arrived, Mr. Hesse greeted them in the lobby and introduced Nancy and her friends.
Nancy asked Captain Watson, “Have you any news of Steve Rover?”
“No,” he replied. “Not a trace of his abductor, either. But it’s possible Steve went off with that man in the car quite willingly. The Middleburg police told us the boy was always looking for adventure and perhaps he figured this was a way of finding it, free of charge.”
Nancy did not think so. She was greatly concerned about the boy and was afraid he was in the hands of criminals.
“There’s some more news in this case,” the captain went on. “Night before last Madame Tarantella’s hut in Vernonville was burned down.”
“On purpose?” Nancy asked.
“We don’t know,” the officer said. “But this part of the story will particularly interest you ghost hunters. Neighbors declared that they saw the medium’s ghost floating out in the smoke.”
Rita caught her breath. “Oh dear! That means Madame Tarantella is dead.”
George smiled. “Or wants people to think she is. The whole thing is probably a hoax.”
The officers looked at her amused. Then Watson said, “I’m glad you don’t believe such nonsense.”
After checking the scene of the explosion in the basement, the officers left, taking the collection of shells with them. Captain Watson said they would find out if it had been reported stolen.
The ghost hunters continued to discuss the news about the medium. Bab said, “I don’t see the point of burning the hut.”
Jim chuckled. “Maybe that strange woman is trying to make a comeback. She’ll pretend she has been visiting the spirit world and can now bring more fabulous messages than ever in her séances.” He grinned. “Messages that are out of this world.”
When the laughter died down, they discussed what the next step in their ghost hunting should be.
“We seem to have been stymied at every turn,” Ned remarked, “although we’ve practically pin-pointed who the ghost makers are.”
Rita declared she was not convinced of this. “I believe in spirits! Don’t forget there are many ghostly happenings in this world that haven’t been explained.”
“Granted,” her husband agreed. It seemed to Nancy and her friends that this was the way Rod invariably closed off debates on the supernatural.
Nancy changed the subject. “Do you all realize that trouble has been arranged for us in various places before we arrive? Let’s see if we can get to the next place first and set a trap.”
“You mean,” Ned spoke up, “we should circulate a rumor that we’re staying here but sneak over to the skull-and-shell collector’s house?”
“Yes.”
Jim asked, “Surely you aren’t suggesting that all the ghost hunters sneak out of here in the middle of the night and storm Mr. Cranshaw’s place?”
Nancy chuckled and Dave said with a grin, “I can just see a headline. ‘Ghost hunters become storm troopers.’ ”
After further discussion it was decided that only Nancy, Ned, Helen, and Jim would make the trip to the Cranshaw home. They would wait until just after dark and be driven there inside the panel truck which belonged to the inn.
Meanwhile, the other ghost hunters would assemble on the stone parapet. They would watch for any signs of fireworks or rockets or other kinds of tricks.
“To make it look as if none of us is missing,” George proposed, “how would it be if we start some games? They’ll be the kind that require us to move around a lot, making it hard to count noses.”
“Good idea,” said Nancy. “And, Bess, you do plenty of laughing and talking. Keep the party gay and busy, so it seems as if there are a lot of us.”
Bess agreed, declaring she liked her part in the evening’s work. “But, Nancy—and the rest of you who are going—please be careful. We’ve had enough scares to last a lifetime.”
The four adventurers laughed and Ned said, “Jim and I will dc our best to keep Nancy and Helen safe.”
When Nancy spoke to Mr. Hesse about using the truck, he consented but said there was no one to drive it.
“Perhaps Mr. Warfield would,” she suggested.
“If so, I’ll be glad to let him take it.”
Mr. Warfield said he would be delighted to participate in the adventure.
At nine o’clock the covered truck was backed up close to the delivery entrance of the inn. Quickly the four young people jumped into the rear of it and locked the door. Mr. Warfield turned around and started down the driveway.
They had barely reached the main road when a car came whizzing along. With screeching brakes it turned into the driveway of the inn and disappeared up the hill.
“I wonder who that was,” Nancy said.
Jim replied, “Whoever’s driving that car ought to have his license taken away. He’s crazy.”
The two couples settled down for the five-mile drive to the Cranshaw estate.
“It strikes me as rather gruesome,” Helen spoke up, “for anyone to collect skulls. Shells are all right, but dead people’s bones—ugh!”
Nancy said she was rather curious to meet Mr. Cranshaw. “He certainly is eccentric.”
Meanwhile, the young man driving the speeding car had arrived at the front door of the inn. He jumped out hurriedly and handed the desk clerk a special-delivery letter for Nancy. It bore the postmark of a nearby town. The boy left immediately.
Feeling that the letter must be important, and knowing that Nancy had left the hotel, the clerk went to find George. He found her on the parapet.
“Maybe you’d better read this letter,” he suggested.
George consulted her friends and all felt it probably would be wise to open the letter. The games, the chatter, and the laughter had stopped. Everyone waited for George to read the message.
She scanned it quickly and gasped.
Bess asked, “What does it say? Bad news?”
George said solemnly, “The message is, ‘Stay off the highway if you value your life!’ ”
“Oh!” Bess cried out. “Nancy is in danger again! What can we do?”
George tried to take a sensible view of the matter. “Since this message didn’t come until after Nancy had gone, the sender doesn’t know she isn’t here. I believe it’s just a warning to keep her from pursuing the mystery.”
The other ghost hunters were inclined to agree with her. In any case it was too late to overtake Nancy.
Finally Rita spoke up. “There’s one thing we can try. Let’s all concentrate very hard and hope to get a thought wave across to Nancy.”
Although no one said anything, each of them said a silent prayer for the safety of Nancy and her companions. Bess thought, “If there were only some way to stop them!”
At that very moment Nancy had a feeling they were being followed. Looking out of the peephole in the rear of the truck, she saw a car a short distance behind. It was keeping pace with them. Nancy mentioned this to Ned, then stepped forward to speak to Mr. Warfield.
“There’s a car not far behind us. Do you think we’re being followed?”
“I saw it before. I admit I’m a little worried about that possibility,” he said.
“Why don’t we find out by playing the cat-and-mouse game with it?” Ned suggested.
“Good idea,” Mr. Warfield replied. He stepped on the accelerator. The other vehicle did the same.
“Oh, oh!” Jim said. “Looks like trouble.”
Suddenly, with a new burst of speed, the oncoming car shot forward and started catching up to the truck.
Nancy’s heart beat faster. Who could it be? The Prizers?
Rounding a sharp bend in the road, Mr. Warfield announced, “I see a farmhouse on a side road up ahead. I’ll turn in there.”
A few seconds later he pulled into the empty driveway and put out the lights. The trailing car shot past them. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well,” said Helen, “either the driver didn’t see us come in here or else he wasn’t chasing us after all.”
The words were hardly out of her mouth when they saw the car begin to back up. It quickly reached the farmhouse driveway and pulled in behind them!