JEFF TUCKER'S STORY
There was another long wait and then, to her relief, Nancy Drew heard a
key turn in the lock and then a bolt shot back. Quickly she pushed the
closet door open and stepped out into the light.
She stood face to face with Jeff Tucker, the colored caretaker employed
by the Tophams. The robbers had led her to believe that they had harmed
the old fellow, and Nancy was glad to see him well and happy--albeit
a little too happy, for Jeff Tucker plainly had had a bit too much to
drink.
Jeff still knew very well what was going on about him, but a certain
alcoholic glitter in his eyes and his somewhat unsteady stance informed
Nancy that he was not just as sober as the proverbial judge. She
suspected that while he had been absent on his convivial celebration,
the robbers had made off with the Topham furniture, for even in his
condition of semi-inebriety Jeff seemed to realize that something was
amiss. He stared at Nancy, then his eyes roved about the topsy-turvy
room.
"Say, white gu'l, you tell me wheah all dis heah fu'niture is at!"
Nancy smiled in spite of herself at the old caretaker's bewilderment,
for try as he might, he evidently could not rationalize the situation.
"The most definite information I can give you," she said, "is that some
robbers carted it away. If you had been here attending to your duty, it
would never have happened."
"'At's right! 'At's right! Blame me! I ain't s'posed to be no standin'
ahmy--I's just a plain culled man with a wife and seven chillun
a-dependin' on me. No mom! I ain't havin' no truck wit' dem machine-gun
boys!"
Jeff paused and passed his hand over his forehead as if he were trying
to wipe away the alcoholic cobwebs that were accumulating about his
perceptive faculties. Then suddenly he pointed a bony finger at Nancy
and demanded:
"How come you heah?"
"That's a fine question for you to ask!" replied Nancy indulgently.
"But I don't mind telling you. I arrived just as the robbers were
hauling off the last of the furniture. They locked me in the closet. I
must have been there for hours."
"You was in dat dah closet all dat time!" Jeff's voice suddenly took
on a pathetic tone. "You po'h chile! Suppose you had o' stahved to
death in dah, or da house had burned down, or you was scared into fits,
or----"
"There now, Jeff. Don't take on about what might have happened to me.
I'm all right."
Nancy determined to try persuasion on the old fellow in order to find
out what had happened to him.
"Tell me where you were last night," she suggested gently.
"Well, Miss, it was dis heah way: I was out in dah yard a-chorin'
around last night and a-thinkin' how I wished I was some place whah
I wasn't--just any place, I didn't mind wheah. I was just all fed up
bein' a caih-taker and takin' caih o' all dis truck from mornin' till
night. It ain't such an excitin' life, Miss, and while I's done sowed
all mah wild oats, I still sows a little rye now and den."
"Yes, Jeff--I can smell that on your breath right now."
Jeff wiped the back of his hand over his mouth in an apparent effort to
keep his rye-laden breath from being propagated into the atmosphere.
"You cain't blame me, Miss," he protested. "_He_ give it to me."
"Who is this 'he'?"
"Why, dat white man who drives up in de big see-dan. He sees me out
thah and knows how lonesome and useless I feels, so he says: 'Jeff, hop
in. I know a place where!' So in I hops. Course I locked up dis heah
house and de bahn and seen dat everything was safe."
"Safe! From the looks of this room one could hardly call it that!"
"Oh, well, Miss, it looked safe and I felt safe too when we whizzed off
in dat big cah. Den dis white man he says: 'Jeff, how about a little
drink?' An' I says, 'I don't mind, seein' it's you.' Den I had one
and some mo' too I guess, cause aftah while I didn't feel like I was
ridin' in no automobeel at all. I thought dat de chariot had done gone
an' swung low an' I was a-bein' wafted off to some place in de gen'ral
direction o' heaven!"
"Well, that was a fine thing to do, I must say," Nancy commented. "Then
what happened?"
"I comes to. I sees I ain't in no chariot no mo' but I's in a ho-tel.
And I's in bed and I's feelin' pow'ful sickish-like and discouraged.
Well, I gets my clo'es on and I sees mah keys to de house is done been
pilfehed. Den I tries to recollect what done come to pass and I gets
s'picious. I says to myself, 'Jeff, how come dat white man so friendly?
How come he give you drinks dat costs fo' dollars a pint. How come you
ain't got no keys? Black boy, bestir yo'self. And here I is!"
"Oh, yes, you're here all right," Nancy returned severely. "And a fine
mess you've made of it, too. What do you think Mrs. Topham will say
when she learns?"
Jeff rolled his eyes.
"Lawdy, Miss! What _will_ she say? I reckon I's done gone and
discharged myself."
"It would be only what you deserve, Jeff. You were unfaithful to your
trust."
"What you mean, Miss, trust? I don't trust nobody no mo'--especially no
foot-loose white boys a-travelin' around in see-dans."
"You don't understand. I mean you didn't treat Mrs. Topham right in
going off."
"I reckon you's right, Miss. Ole Jeff done gone and made a fool of
himself. I realize dat whatever I gets, I's got it a-comin'."
A tear rolled out on Jeff's black, furrowed old cheek, and he wiped it
away with his handkerchief.
"There, Jeff," Nancy said consolingly. "Let's forget about what has
been done and think about what we can do to straighten things out. I'll
try to help you. We must report the robbery to the police right away.
Is there a telephone in the house?"
"No, Miss. We ain't got no telephone heah. We always uses de R. F. D."
"Then we shall have to go to town as quickly as we can in my car. Do
you suppose that you would recognize the man who enticed you away,
Jeff?"
"Say, would I 'member him? I'd recognize dat man in a bootleggah's
convention. He was tall an' slick-lookin' with a kind of a 'gimme' look
in his eyes. Yes mom! I suah would know dat baby!"
Before leading the way to her roadster, Nancy Drew thought of the old
Crowley clock again and all that it might mean in the solving of the
mystery of the will. Jeff, as caretaker, would surely know whether or
not it was in the bungalow before the robbery.
"Tell me something, Jeff," she said. "Was there an old clock in the
house--a tall, square-faced, mantel clock?"
"Yes, Miss. But all I ever done to it was dust it. I never wound it up
to see if it would run. I's got a watch o' my own." Jeff punctuated his
remarks by taking a large, silver, open-face watch from his pocket and
holding it to his ear. "She's done run down too. I reckon dat I was in
dat ho-tel when I should o' been tendin' to dis watch."
"Never mind the watch, Jeff. You're sure there was a clock in the house
then?"
"Oh, I's dead rights on dat, Miss. Dar suah was! I recollects dat clock
just as plain as day. I wouldn't fohget dat clock. No, mom, never!"
Nancy now felt almost certain that this was the clock which contained
the notebook telling of what disposal had been made of the Crowley will
and that it had been stolen by the robbers.
She must recover the clock! And there was only one way. The thieves
must be apprehended and the stolen good returned. With this thought in
her mind, she rushed out toward her roadster, calling to Jeff to follow.
"I's a-comin', Miss," Jeff called. "Just a minute!"
He half-hobbled off behind the house out of Nancy's sight, while she
sat waiting impatiently in her roadster. She started the engine and
warmed it up, but Jeff still failed to return.
She called to him, but there was no response. Finally, she could stand
the suspense no longer. Jumping to the ground, she set off to find out
what had become of the old scamp.
She found Jeff leisurely performing an elaborate facial ablution at the
cistern pump. He would pump his hands full of water and then, with a
great spluttering noise, dash it against his face.
"For goodness's sake, Jeff," said Nancy, provoked, as she came upon
him. "Don't you realize I've been waiting for you? Those robbers will
probably be in the next state before we even succeed in notifying the
police."
"'Scuse me, Miss, but I's takin' a little wash."
"I see you are. But can't that wait?"
"But dis heah wash is impohtant. I just wants to git good and sober
befo' I goes into dat po-lice station, and dis cold water is good fo'
what ails me."
Coax, wheedle or threaten, Nancy was unable to hurry Jeff a minute. But
at last he had finished, and Nancy, with a sigh of relief, loaded him
into the waiting roadster.
As she stepped upon the accelerator and the car moved slowly out onto
the highway, she wondered where the old Crowley clock was now and
whether she would ever be able to recover it from the thieves.