A SURPRISE
"Can it be that Mary Mason lives in this neighborhood?" Nancy Drew
asked herself in surprise.
There could be no question as to the identity of the girl, for she was
now close enough for Nancy to see her face distinctly. She wore a neat
silk frock, simple in line but unmistakably new and expensive.
Nancy's first inclination was to call to her, but upon second thought
she decided that such a course would be foolish. It was doubtful that
the girl would tell her anything she wanted to know, and by waiting and
watching she might learn something to her advantage. Accordingly, she
crouched lower behind the steering wheel of her roadster, hoping that
she would not be observed.
Unaware that she was being watched, Mary Mason continued down the
street, swaggering a trifle as she walked. Nancy saw her turn in at a
dilapidated old house. She paused on the porch, fumbled in her bag for
a key, then unlocked the door and entered.
"That's where she lives, all right," Nancy Drew decided as the door
closed behind the girl. "Lucky for me that I came this way."
It was with considerable misgiving that she surveyed the house. From
the road the place appeared deserted.
"There's something mighty strange about that girl's actions," she
thought. "Surely, she wouldn't live in a place like this unless she
were reduced to the lowest sort of poverty, and her clothing doesn't
indicate that."
While Nancy was debating what to do next, she heard the rumble of a
delivery auto. Glancing up she was astonished to see it come to a stop
in front of the house Mary had entered.
"Taylor's Store," Nancy murmured, reading the red sign on the outside
of the delivery wagon. "Why, that's the largest department store in
River Heights! I wonder why it's stopping here?"
Evidently the driver was somewhat nonplussed at the appearance of the
dwelling, for he studied the number a moment, glanced at a paper in his
hand, and then scratched his head in a puzzled sort of way.
"I guess this must be the place, all right," Nancy heard him mutter.
He shut off the motor and climbed out of the van. Going around to the
back, he unlocked the rear doors and took out a number of packages.
They were all sizes and shapes, but one was round like a hat box and
another looked as though it might contain a dress or a coat. In all
there were seven packages.
"My goodness, those things can't all be for Mary," Nancy told herself.
"Surely, she can't afford them."
The driver of the van hurried up the walk to the house and knocked
firmly on the door. There was a long wait and it was not until the man
had called out impatiently: "Taylor's Delivery!" that the door swung
open on its rusty hinges. Nancy saw Mary Mason take the packages. She
then closed the door and the driver went back to his wagon. He climbed
in, started the engine, and went clattering on down the street.
"I'd like to see the inside of those packages," Nancy told herself,
"but I can guess what they contain. It beats me where that girl gets
the money for all her finery. Of course she may buy on credit."
She realized that such a possibility might put an entirely different
face on the situation. If it were true that Mary had charge accounts at
the various stores, her sudden acquisition of elegant clothes could be
explained.
"I don't believe a store in town would offer her credit," Nancy
reasoned.
She had no intention of permitting the question to go unanswered.
Hastily shifting gears, she started after the delivery wagon which had
turned the corner and was traveling northward.
"I hope I haven't lost him!" Nancy thought anxiously.
As she turned the corner she caught a glimpse of red far up the street
and was certain that it was the Taylor delivery auto. Speeding up, she
soon overtook the wagon, but contented herself with following close
behind for several blocks.
It was not until both cars were well out of the slum district that the
driver stopped. This was the opportunity Nancy had sought. She pulled
up behind the delivery wagon and waited until the man had come back
from the house where he had delivered a small package.
"Are you the delivery man from Taylor's?" Nancy asked, by way of an
opening.
"Sure. Can't you read the sign?" the driver returned carelessly.
Nancy ignored the gibe and gave the man a smile which disarmed him at
once.
"What kin I do for you?" he demanded more graciously.
"Have you delivered any packages to a person named Mary Mason?"
"That girl who lives down in Dockville? Sure! I just dropped off seven
of 'em there."
"I hope you got your money," Nancy said slyly.
"I sure did," the driver returned, with a broad grin. "Every cent of
it! None of these here C.O.D. gals kin slip it over on me."
It was on the tip of Nancy's tongue to ask another question, but the
driver climbed into his seat and drove away, leaving her to gaze
thoughtfully after the retreating delivery wagon. What she had learned
left her more perplexed than before. From what the delivery man had
said it was evident that Mary Mason was buying finery from the stores
and paying cash. Again the question that had troubled Nancy from the
very start loomed up. Where had the girl secured her money?
"It's beginning to look suspicious," Nancy told herself, a trifle
grimly. "This may not be the Lilac Inn mystery, but it is a mystery,
none the less. I may have two cases on my hands."
She knew that Mary came of a poor family and it was highly improbable
that she had relatives who were providing her with funds. The girl had
no employment, and, what was even more significant, she did not seem
to be interested in finding work. Otherwise, she certainly would have
gone to Lilac Inn at Helen Corning's suggestion. Were these clues or
were they not?
"I must proceed cautiously," Nancy assured herself. "I might get myself
into serious trouble by falsely accusing her of a crime. So far the
evidence certainly isn't sufficient to warrant any action."
Nancy had stood so long at the curbing that passersby were beginning
to stare at her curiously. Coming back to reality with a start, she
stepped into her roadster and after a little hesitation headed for home.
"I don't believe there's any use going back to see Mary to-day," she
decided, glancing at her watch. "It's nearly luncheon time and Mrs.
Carter will be expecting me. I probably wouldn't gain anything by
talking with Mary, anyway. She wouldn't admit a thing. I must think out
my line of action carefully before I try to interview her."
As Nancy drove slowly toward home she continued to mull over the facts
she had obtained. If only she could correctly interpret the information!
In reviewing everything she knew about Mary, she recalled that when the
girl had called at her home to secure work she had appeared earnest
enough. Apparently, she had come into her money since that date and
had consequently lost her desire for employment.
"The thing that puzzles me is how she happened to get money just about
the time of the jewelry robbery," Nancy mused. "Of course there may be
no connection, and again there may be. I remember she seemed startled
when I mentioned that my father was a criminal lawyer. It seems to me
she wouldn't have acted that way if she hadn't been up to something
dishonest."
And yet, in all fairness to Mary Mason, Nancy was forced to admit
that in her eagerness to find a clue she was getting the cart before
the horse. It was true the girl had refused employment at the Drew
household, seemingly because she was afraid of Nancy's father, but at
that time the Crandall jewels had not been stolen. Perhaps her money
had been secured from a previous dishonest deal. If such were the case,
Nancy, in trying to pin the Crandall robbery upon her, was following
another false clue.
"Oh, it's all a dreadful mess," Nancy thought in despair. "Every day in
every way I'm getting in deeper and deeper."