(#24) The Clue in the Old Album (11 page)

“What do you mean?” Nancy asked, puzzled.

Murko did not reply. A look of panic suddenly came over his face. As if frightened at having told the visitors too much, he bolted for an elevator, which had stopped at that floor. He dashed in and the door slammed shut.

By the time Nancy and Ned had descended to the main floor in another elevator, Murko was nowhere to be seen. No one could tell them which direction he had taken.

“Guess he gave us the slip,” Ned said, disgusted, “If I’d only been quicker.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ned,” Nancy consoled him, and added, “At least I’ve found out why the gypsies at that camp wouldn’t let anyone see Murko. To the outside world, he is ‘Mr Martin.’ ”

The young people thought perhaps he had fled to his tribesmen so they inquired at the local police station if there were any gypsies in the vicinity. They were told of a camp approximately ten miles distant, off the Woodville Road. Nancy wondered if the group from the carnival was there.

“Murko probably is with them, and maybe Anton and Nitaka,” she speculated. “Let’s try to find the place.”

“We’re off!” Ned said.

He and Nancy soon discovered that police directions on how to reach the camp had been somewhat sketchy. To find the Woodville Road was easy enough, but to locate the gypsies’ encampment was another matter.

“They may have pulled their trailers along any one of these side roads,” Nancy commented. “It’s so dark and wooded, we probably couldn’t see the spot unless we were right on it.”

“Looks like a bad storm coming, too,” Ned said, as he rolled the window up partway. “That’ll make it harder to find.”

Suddenly a flash of lightning cut across the inky sky and revealed a mass of ugly, boiling clouds.

“Maybe we’d better postpone our search and start for home,” Nancy suggested.

Ned agreed, and turned the car in the narrow road. Before they had traveled two miles, the storm broke. During the slow ride back to River Heights, the rain came down in torrents. It was not until they reached the Drew home that it stopped.

“Lucky we started back when we did,” Nancy commented as she said good night to Ned. “I hope your boys’ camp wasn’t washed out!”

“If it was, I’ll be ready to see you again in the morning,” he said, grinning.

Early the next day George and Bess stopped by to see Nancy. She invited them to help her search for the missing gypsies.

George was eager for the adventure, but cautious Bess reminded them of their unpleasant experience some days before.

“You two must like being thrown out by gypsies!” she remarked.

Bess decided to go along, nevertheless, and up to the time they reached Winchester, she was very gay, chatting about a new restaurant she had found in River Heights, to the detriment of her figure. But as they turned up a side road out of town, and learned from a farmer exactly where the gypsies were, she became uneasy.

When the three girls finally reached the wooded spot, though, she sighed in relief. There was no one in sight. The group had departed.

“Maybe Murko will show up at the broadcasting studio sometime today,” George suggested as she noted Nancy’s disappointment.

“I doubt it, but we’ll stop there,” Nancy replied. She turned the car back toward Winchester.

A few minutes later they reached the radio station, and were told by the manager that Mr. Martin would broadcast no more. A woman had come there early that morning and left a note from the violinist. The message had merely said he would never again play over that station.

“We had a contract with him, too,” the manager said, “but there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Nancy and the other girls were ready to leave, when he called, “Are you Miss Nancy Drew?” To her yes, he added, “There’s something here for you. It was brought by that woman who left the note. She merely said to give it to you.”

From an inner office the man brought out a package. Puzzled, Nancy decided to open it at once. Inside was a red, black, and white hand-woven blanket.

“This is strange,” she remarked. “Did the woman leave her name?”

“No, I scarcely noticed her, except that she had blue eyes, unlike most gypsies, and was about fifty years old.”

Nancy caught up a corner of the blanket. The name H. Bostwick was woven in the blanket in small letters.

“Could she be Henrietta Bostwick?” Nancy wondered, remembering the name on the album she had bought in New York. “If so, is she a gypsy? Or does she merely live with the tribe? And why did she send me this blanket?”

On the way home Nancy discussed the incident with Bess and George. “I feel sure that woman was trying to send me some information.”

At home, Nancy seated herself on the living-room floor and examined every inch of the gypsy blanket.

“These figures woven in here and there mean something. I’m sure of it!” she told herself. “If only I could get at the meaning of the thing, I might have a valuable clue!”

An outside door slammed. Hannah came into the room, her arms loaded with packages.

“Shopping is an awful trial—” she began, then exclaimed, “Nancy, where did you get that?”

“It’s a gift from a gypsy.”

“Destroy it! Get it out of the house!” Hannah cried.

“Why, what’s wrong?” the girl asked, amazed. “Look at the letters on it!”

“Letters?”

“They spell ‘Beware’!” Hannah pointed to a series of red figures.

From where Nancy was seated the word became a part of the pattern and could not be made out. She jumped up and darted to the housekeeper’s side.

“Why, it does!” she agreed. “Hannah, you darling! You’re helping me solve this mystery!”

Greatly excited, Nancy twisted and turned the blanket. She tried to find other words hidden in the maze of geometric figures.

“Hannah, do you see anything else?” she asked.

Mrs. Gruen shook her head. She and Nancy walked into the hall to study the blanket from a distance.

Suddenly Nancy exclaimed, “I have it! I see it!” She gave the housekeeper a hug.

“What is it?” Mrs. Gruen asked.

Nancy took a quick step forward and pointed out three more words, “king and sun.”

“It says, ‘Beware king and sun’!”

“Yes, it does,” the woman agreed, “but I don’t see any sense in those words.”

“There must be a meaning to it all! The word ‘king’ could refer to Zorus, the gypsy chief! I can’t figure out ‘sun.’ The message might mean, ‘Beware of the king and his Son’!”

“You always did have a lively imagination,” Mrs. Gruen said.

Nancy scarcely heard her. Thinking aloud, she continued, “if the word is ‘son,’ who could he be? Anton, perhaps, or maybe Romano, Rose’s father?”

“The word isn’t ‘son,’ ” Hannah insisted. “It says ‘sun,’ plain as day. Are gypsies sun worshippers?”

“Get that blanket out of this house!” Hannah cried.

Nancy’s eyes opened wide. She exclaimed, “Why didn’t I think of it before! ‘Sun’ is the word and it means ‘source of light’! Beware the King and his source of light!

“Hannah, at long last the light is beginning to dawn.”

CHAPTER XIV

The Mannequin’s Hint

NANCY rushed to the telephone and called state police headquarters. After identifying herself as Carson Drew’s daughter, she said, “Will you please try to locate the gypsies that moved out of Winchester recently? And when you do, will someone from your office go there with me?”

The officer listened carefully as she gave a summary of all the things that had happened in which she thought certain gypsies had been involved. She felt the guilty persons might be hiding in that tribe.

“We’ll start searching at once and let you know what we find out,” the officer promised.

While waiting to hear from him, Nancy dashed over to Mrs. Struthers’ home to show her the strange blanket. Rose was having a music lesson and Nancy could hear the dear, true notes of a violin.

Nancy thought the teacher must be playing, but Mrs. Struthers smiled proudly and said, “That’s Rose. Isn’t she doing well? And her dancing is remarkable. Oh, Nancy, she’s so happy now, and I have you to thank for everything. If only we could find her father and the mysterious doll.”

“I have a new idea,” Nancy announced. “It came to me after looking at this gift from some strange gypsy woman.”

Mrs. Struthers gazed in awe at the blanket and felt sure it carried an unfriendly warning. Nancy said she did not share the woman’s anxiety.

“I have a new theory I want to work on. To start I’d like a little more information about your daughter’s last illness. Would you mind if I ask the doctor about it?”

“No, indeed. The physician was Dr. Tiffen. I’m sure he’ll talk with you, although he always says Enid’s illness was a puzzle to him.”

Nancy went to Dr. Tiffen’s office and learned that the illness was not so much a puzzle as he had pretended to Mrs. Struthers and her daughter.

“I did not think it wise to tell them. I knew Enid could not live long,” the doctor revealed. “What did puzzle me, though, was that at times she seemed to have abundant energy, and at others she had almost none.”

“You gave her medication?” Nancy asked.

“Oh, yes, but that was to ease the pain. In cases like hers, I know of nothing to prescribe to give a patient energy.”

“Dr. Tiffen,” Nancy said, “I have a theory, which may sound crazy, but if you have time, may I tell you what it is?”

“Every once in a while,” he said, smiling, “a layman hits upon an idea that is a great boon to mankind.” Nancy explained that she had figured out that “source of light” meant the sun. Since energy comes from the sun, possibly, through some secret known to her, Rose’s mother had received momentary energy.

“You may be right,” Dr. Tiffen said.

“If you think there’s something to my theory, I’ll try to find that ‘source of light,’ ” the young detective declared.

Before Nancy reached her car, Dr. Tiffen called her back. “Mrs. Struthers is on the phone.”

She told Nancy that the police had just notified her that they had located part of her stolen property in a Winchester pawnshop.

“They’re holding several suspects and one of them may be the thief who stole my jeweled bag. He may also be the one who robbed the house. Could you go over to Winchester, Nancy, and identify him?”

The girl glanced at her wrist watch. She could just about make it there and back before dark, and thus keep her promise to her father and Hannah that she would not stay out alone at night while working on the Struthers case.

“I’ll run right over,” she agreed.

For the second time that day Nancy headed her car for Winchester. Should any of the men in the police line-up be those suspected as thieves, she hoped they would confess and clear up a large part of the mystery. Unfortunately she had never seen any of them before.

Early the next morning Nancy received a call from a state police officer. “Miss Drew,” he said, “we’ve located those gypsies. They’re on the south side of Hancock. One of the men from the barracks near there will go with you. What time can you reach Hancock?”

“About nine-thirty. Thank you very much.”

As soon as Nancy and Hannah had had breakfast, the girl detective went off, her hopes high. Now perhaps she would find Romano Pepito! If not, surely she would pick up a clue to the whereabouts of Anton, Nitaka, and perhaps even Murko. He might tell her who left the blanket with the strange message.

At exactly nine-thirty Nancy walked into the Hancock Barracks’ office. A uniformed state policeman named Wicks was assigned to accompany her to the gypsy settlement. As they approached the secluded place, the callers were greeted by barking dogs.

The warning sent gypsies scurrying toward their trailers. Women who had been cooking meat over brilliant-red fires hastily gathered their playing children and retreated. When the policeman addressed a question to a young woman who hurried past, she replied,
“Ci janav.”
He explained to Nancy that this mean, “I don’t know.”

The same reply was received from other fleeing figures. Evidently the gypsies had no intention of giving any information to the police!

One man did come forward and make a pretense of welcoming the couple. Nancy had never seen him before, nor any of the gypsies who were looking curiously from the doorways and windows of their trailers. So far as she could judge, these were not the people she had visited before.

Politely she asked if Zorus, Murko, Romano Pepito, Anton, Nitaka, Tony Wassel, or Henrietta Bostwick were there. The man shook his head at mention of each name.

“The persons I’m looking for aren’t here,” she said to Wicks.

“Just the same, we’ll make sure and not take anyone’s word for it,” he replied.

The officer investigated on his own, but came back convinced that the purse snatcher was not hiding in the camp.

“If he was here, he fled before we came,” Wicks decided.

Nancy bought a string of beads from a young woman. Then she and Wicks left.

Nancy reached River Heights just as the clock in the town-hall tower chimed the midday hour. She loved to listen to it and often laughingly told Hannah that it made her feel as though the old bell were announcing the end of one adventure and the beginning of another.