A New Clue
For two days after the arrival of the telegram from Chicago which stated
that Carson Drew had left for home, Nancy waited hopefully. But as the
time passed and no word was received from her father, her anxiety
intensified. All sorts of unpleasant thoughts began to trouble her.
Had her father met with an accident? Perhaps, in crossing the street, he
had been struck by an automobile. Oh, if only he would come or send word
of his whereabouts! The suspense was almost unendurable.
At the repeated urging of Rosemary and Floretta, she consented to remain
at The Mansion until she received news from her father. But the strain
of waiting was beginning to tell heavily upon her. Since Carson Drew had
left River Heights, she had not even received a letter from him.
Nancy’s interest in the mystery of the old stone house gradually
lessened. She was still determined to solve the enigma, but the fear
that something had happened to her father overshadowed all else.
Since the theft of the silk dresses from Floretta’s room, nothing had
happened to disturb the tranquility of the Turnbull household, although
an atmosphere of suspense seemed to hover over the entire house.
Sometimes Nancy thought that the very silence of the place would drive
her into hysterics. She longed to depart, but for the sake of Floretta
and Rosemary she remained.
Several times she had searched the house in the hope of finding secret
openings in the walls, but although when she rapped them a few had a
hollow sound, she was never able to find any hidden door. It was
discouraging.
Since Nancy had learned that Nathan Gombet was endeavoring to purchase
the Turnbull mansion at a ridiculously low price, she felt that she had
struck a valuable clue. In her own mind she was firmly convinced that
the miser had some connection with the strange things which had been
going on in the old house. She had no way of establishing the identity
of the thief, but she was certain that it was either Gombet or someone
employed by him.
“He intends to scare Rosemary and Floretta into selling at any price,”
Nancy thought. “It’s up to me to quench his little game!”
She was at a loss to know what course to follow. If only her father were
there to give her advice!
“As a last resort I’ll go to Gombet and have a talk with him,” she
decided. “By skillful questioning I may be able to learn something which
will incriminate him.”
Nancy was well aware that Nathan Gombet was clever as well as scheming.
It would be difficult to convict him of entering The Mansion, that she
knew. She could not cause him to be arrested upon suspicion.
“I must find a way to prove that he is the guilty one,” she thought. “If
I delay too long, something terrible may happen here. That miser is a
desperate man when crossed.”
Convinced that it was unwise to postpone her visit to the home of the
miser, she determined to visit him that very day, although she dreaded
the ordeal.
“Can you tell me where Nathan Gombet lives?” she asked Rosemary at the
luncheon table.
“Why, don’t you know?” Rosemary asked. “He lives in the old stone house
directly back of us.”
Nancy gave an exclamation of surprise.
“I wish I had known that before.”
“We would have mentioned it, but we thought you knew.”
“You think Gombet has something to do with the mystery?” Floretta
questioned curiously.
“I’m almost certain of it. But to prove my theory will not be easy.
Nathan is as clever as he is scheming. Tell me, how long has he lived in
the stone house?”
“Oh, for years. And a mighty unpleasant neighbor he is, too.”
“I can imagine,” and Nancy smiled grimly.
“You see, there’s quite a story connected with Nathan’s ownership of the
house,” Floretta began. “Would you care to hear it?”
“Indeed, I would.”
“The house was originally built by a Turnbull. That explains why it so
closely resembles our own.”
“Both homes were built by the same man?” Nancy asked.
“No; by two brothers.” It was Rosemary who answered. “They were devoted
to each other, and for that reason they built their houses close
together, although, as you can see, they are on different roads.”
“When the Civil War broke out, the brothers had their first
disagreement,” Floretta continued the story. “William, the brother who
owned this house, was a staunch supporter of the Union, but the other
brother joined the Confederate forces.”
“He gave his life as well as his fortune to the cause,” Rosemary broke
in.
“He was killed in action,” Floretta finished. “After his death it was
learned that he had heavily mortgaged his home. Everything went to pay
the debts. The house passed from one person to another until finally it
fell into the hands of Nathan Gombet.”
“But why does he want to buy your home?” Nancy demanded, with a puzzled
frown. “If he hopes to sell to the city, why doesn’t he give up his own
house.”
“The city doesn’t want it,” Rosemary explained. “He did try to sell. His
house doesn’t have as interesting a history as ours does, and he has
permitted it to run down. It’s in a terrible condition now. I shouldn’t
be surprised any day to see it tumble from its foundation.”
“Nathan has always been queer,” Floretta remarked. “As long as we can
remember he has lived alone.”
“Not exactly alone,” Rosemary broke in. “He keeps a servant. A colored
woman who looks as though she were an ogre.”
“And birds,” Floretta added. “His house fairly swarms with them. When
they die, he stuffs them! Ug!” She shuddered. “You couldn’t hire me to
go near his place.”
“You say he keeps birds?” Nancy inquired, with quickening interest.
“What kind?”
“Oh, most every kind, I guess,” Rosemary answered. “Parrots. You can
hear them screeching clear over here sometimes.”
“Does he keep canaries?” Nancy questioned eagerly.
“Oh, yes,” Rosemary agreed.
The significance of the question did not dawn upon Rosemary and
Floretta, and Nancy did not tell them what was in her mind. At once she
had thought of the two canaries which had found their way into The
Mansion so mysteriously. Was it not likely that Nathan Gombet had
brought the birds from his own home? But how had he succeeded in
entering the mansion without being discovered? That question remained
unanswered.
“I must visit the other house without delay,” she told herself. “But how
can I manage it? If I openly call upon Mr. Gombet he’s certain to
suspect my purpose and perhaps hold me a prisoner.”
If only she could find a way to enter the house without Nathan’s
knowledge!
“I’ll keep a close watch on the house, and I may see him leave,” she
decided. “If I do—that will be my chance.”
Nancy was excited at the information which she had secured, and was
eager for action. She felt that the solution to the mystery was almost
within her grasp.
She laid her plans carefully. She refrained from telling Rosemary and
Floretta of her intention to visit Gombet’s house, for she knew they
would be afraid to permit her to attempt the dangerous mission.
“If conditions are right, I’ll slip away this very night,” she resolved.
All that afternoon she moved restlessly about the house, making frequent
trips to the window to glance searchingly toward the old stone dwelling
which was half-hidden by tall trees.
“Time never dragged more slowly,” Nancy complained. “I wish night would
come.”
She ate little dinner, for as the hour approached, she realized more
keenly than before that she was about to undertake a dangerous
adventure. Clouds had been forming in the sky all afternoon, and by the
time the shadows began to gather a drizzly rain had set in. Nothing
could have pleased her more.
“What a horrible night,” Floretta remarked nervously as she glanced at
the rain-splashed windows. “I hope we don’t have another visit from our
ghost. It’s just the sort of night for something to happen.”
Rosemary looked displeased at this audible expression of her sister’s
nervousness.
Nancy smiled reassuringly.
“I have a feeling that this is going to be an unlucky night for our
ghost,” she said evenly. “And now, if you will excuse me, I believe I’ll
retire early.”
After saying good night to Rosemary and Floretta, Nancy Drew went
directly to her room. But she did not prepare for bed. On this night she
had an important mission ahead of her.