The Clue in the Old Stagecoach (5 page)

Nancy locked the car, pocketed the key, and hurried after the cousins. The three excited sleuths almost ran along the bridle trail in their eagerness to find the old stagecoach.

Suddenly Bess stopped short. “We’ve gone far enough to prove our point,” she declared. “I think we should go back and tell the state police. I certainly don’t want to meet those hijackers!”

“I can’t say that I do myself,” Nancy replied. “On the other hand, we’re only guessing that these wheel tracks belong to the old stagecoach. I think we should have more proof. Those hijackers may have taken the old stagecoach so they can hack it apart and find the clue. I’m convinced that Mr. Langstreet’s secret has leaked out somehow. If we can possibly keep the antique vehicle from being destroyed, I’d certainly like to do it.”

“I would too,” said George. “Come on!”

Bess followed reluctantly. Less than a quarter of a mile ahead, the girls found themselves at the edge of a treeless cliff. Here the bridle trail veered off down the wooded slope. The girls paused and looked toward the foot of the cliff.

“There it is!” George cried exultantly.

Below them was the stolen stagecoach, intact!
It was lying on one side.

“It isn’t smashed, thank goodness,” said George. “All those hijackers wanted to do was to get rid of it. But why?”

Nancy did not try to answer the question. She was not sure that she agreed with George. Bess again showed fear and insisted that the three girls leave and report to the police.

“Let’s split up,” Nancy suggested. “Bess, you take my car key and go back for officers Gavin and Starr. If you can’t find them, get two others. George and I will go down this hillside and see what we can find out about the stagecoach.” She handed the key to Bess.

“I don’t like this arrangement,” Bess said, “but I’ll do it. And please be careful!”

“We’ll stay among the trees alongside the bridle trail just to make you happy,” George promised her cousin.

Bess went off, running at top speed. Nancy and George carefully descended the wooded hillside. On the way they neither saw nor heard anyone.

“I’d certainly like to get a close look at the old stagecoach,” George whispered. “Do you think we dare?”

Nancy suggested that they wait a few minutes. Then, if they saw no sign of anyone, they would go into the open and find out what they could about the overturned vehicle. Ten minutes went by. Complete silence. Nancy signaled to George that they would proceed.

Just as the two girls walked up to the old stagecoach, a man’s deep voice commanded harshly, “Stand where you are!”

THEIR hearts pounding, Nancy and George stood stock-still. Though both had been startled by the command from the unseen speaker, the girls tried not to show any fear.

“Who are you?” Nancy asked her hidden opponent. The man did not reply to her question. Instead, he ordered the girls to retrace their steps.

“Why?” Nancy countered, trying to stall for time until Bess could bring the police to the spot.

“Do as I say!” the stranger growled.

By this time Nancy and George had concluded that the man did not intend to reveal his whereabouts and harm them. Regaining their courage, the girls decided to stay as long as possible.

“We saw this old stagecoach from the top of the cliff,” George spoke up. “We’d like to look at it.”

“You leave the old thing alone!” the stranger directed.

“We’re not going to harm it,” Nancy argued. “Does it belong to you?”

All this time she had been listening intently, trying to find out where the speaker was located. As he called back, she decided the man was hiding in a huge maple tree not far away. She concentrated on the spot.

“That’s none of your business,” the stranger returned. “Now get out of here!”

Nancy detected a slight movement among the leaves on one of the stout limbs. In a shaft of sunlight she saw a man’s hand and forearm. There was a slantwise scar across the wrist!

“One of the hijackers!” Nancy thought. “His blond cohort is probably with him. I guess George and I had better leave and go to meet the police.”

Aloud she said, “Sorry to have bothered you. We’ll go now.”

George was surprised, but did not question Nancy’s decision. Together the two girls scrambled up the hillside among the trees. When they were out of earshot of the man, Nancy quickly told George what she had seen.

“Hypers!” George exclaimed, using her favorite expression. “We found the hijackers! I hope they won’t leave before we can have them arrested!”

The thought spurred the girls on and soon they reached the top of the cliff. They ran full speed along the bridle path toward the main road. Halfway there they met Bess and officers Gavin and Starr racing down the road. Quickly Nancy told her story and the whole group rushed back, so that the troopers might capture the hijackers.

As they neared the cliff, Officer Starr said he thought it best if the girls did not go down the bridle path, since the men below might expect a second visit from that direction and be warned away. “We’ll take the other side right through the forest,” he said. “And you girls, please keep in the rear.” He turned to Nancy. “Would you act as lookout? Stay near the trees at the edge of the ravine. If you see anything unusual, notify us by rolling a stone in our direction.”

Nancy nodded and went to the left of the group. Halfway down the slope, she suddenly spotted the two hijackers coming from hiding. One carried a hatchet, the other a large saw. Instantly they began to hack at the old stagecoach!

Seeing this, Nancy quickly sent a small stone hurtling down toward the policemen and beckoned them to come forward. “The hijackers!” she told them when they arrived, and pointed.

The officers gave one look, then ran pell-mell down the hillside. The three girls joined the chase. They had almost reached the foot of the slope when suddenly from somewhere in the woods came an unusual whistle. When the two hijackers heard it, they took to their heels and disappeared among the trees in the opposite direction.

Instantly the officers gave chase. Nancy did not follow. Instead, she said to her friends, “Let’s try to find that whistler. He must be a pal of the hijackers.”

They could hear crashing in the undergrowth not far from them, and took off in pursuit. But presently the sounds stopped and they could see no one. Finally the girls gave up.

“We’d better return and guard the old stagecoach,” Nancy said. The others nodded.

When they got back, Nancy remarked, “One thing has been proved. There are at least three people involved in the theft of the stagecoach. I wonder who the third person is.”

George was staring at the ax and the saw which the hijackers had dropped in their haste to get away. “These might be good clues,” she remarked. “Fingerprints and that sort of stuff. We’d better not touch them.”

“That’s right,” Nancy agreed.

In a little while the policemen returned, admitting defeat in their pursuit of the hijackers.

Officer Starr smiled. “At least we saved the stolen property,” he said, “thanks to you girls.”

“Let’s right the stagecoach and see what damage has been done to the other side,” Nancy suggested.

Five pairs of strong arms soon set the vehicle back on its wheels. To everyone’s delight, practically no damage had been caused.

“This means that the hijackers didn’t let it roll off the cliff and land here,” said Nancy. “Those men must have brought it down the hillside. If they did,” she added, smiling broadly at the two policemen, “the five of us should be able to drag it back up.”

The two officers looked at her dubiously but finally consented to try. Bess and George stood on one side of the pole, Nancy on the other. As they grabbed hold, Bess giggled. “This isn’t a one-horse shay. It’s a three-horse stagecoach!”

Starr and Gavin grinned, then got behind the vehicle and started to shove it. The trip up the slope was an arduous one, but finally the group reached the top. From there out to the main road the task of moving the stagecoach was not difficult.

“I’ll be happy to deliver the stagecoach to Mrs. Pauling,” Nancy offered.

“All right,” said Officer Starr. “Gavin and I will report to headquarters about those hijackers and do more searching for them.”

While he radioed to headquarters, Officer Gavin got some heavy rope from his car. The pole of the old stagecoach was firmly tied to the rear bumper of Nancy’s convertible.

“If it weren’t against the law to ride in a trailer,” said Bess, “I’d certainly climb into the old stagecoach.”

The three girls finally set off, with Nancy driving very slowly. Motorists along the road stared in amazement and amusement at the sight. Finally Nancy pulled into the Pauling driveway and parked in front of the house.

Mrs. Pauling, who was just coming out of the front door, stared in utter astonishment. Then she cried out, “You found it! Do come inside the house and tell me all about it!”

At that moment George looked at her wrist watch and exclaimed, “Bess, our tennis match is at three o’clock. We’d better dash right off!”

Since it was only twelve thirty, Mrs. Pauling insisted that the girls stay long enough to have lunch. Then she asked whether Nancy would have to go too.

“Not yet,” the young sleuth confessed. “As a matter of fact, I’d like to stay and examine the old stagecoach.”

“Fine. I’ll drive you back to Merriweather later.”

While lunch was being prepared, Nancy gave Mrs. Pauling a full report on the recovery of the stagecoach and said she thought they should notify John O’Brien at once. Mrs. Pauling agreed and Nancy put in the call to Bridgeford. The trucker was delighted to learn the good news.

When Nancy returned to the group, Mrs. Pauling said, “The carpenter was here but he left. I’m sure he’ll come back if I ask him to.” She phoned Mr. Jennings who promised to return at two o’clock and carefully take apart the stagecoach piece by piece.

A delicious luncheon of chicken sandwiches, molded vegetable salad, and tall glasses of lemonade was served in a shaded portion of the patio garden. As Mrs. Pauling and her guests were eating, the woman asked if the girls were familiar with the history of stagecoaches. None of them were.

“It’s really very interesting,” she said. “The first stagecoaches used in this country were imported from England, and were called stage
wag
gons.
But during the War of 1812 the Concord coach was built in Massachusetts and became very popular. It was used out West as late as the 1870’s.”

Bess asked, “Is the stagecoach you bought a Concord coach?”

“Yes, it is,” Mrs. Pauling replied. She chuckled. “Some record runs were made in those Concord coaches—twenty miles in forty-five minutes! Considering the roads in those days, that was marvelous time.

“And speaking of the roads, carriages sank so deeply in the mud sometimes that the horses could not pull them out. Getting across creeks, or bridges that were made of only a few loose boards, was a real accomplishment.”

Bess hunched her shoulders. “I don’t think I’d like to have been on one of those rides,” she remarked. “The old stagecoaches must have swayed around like crazy.”

Mrs. Pauling nodded. “Despite that, the stagecoach lines could not carry all the passengers who wanted to travel. But whenever a railroad came into a community there were loud complaints from the stage drivers.

“They were not the only ones who complained, either. You know the turnpikes and bridges in those days collected tolls and the owners could see their profits melting away.”

“And I suppose the farmers complained too,” George spoke up. “Railroads wouldn’t buy hay and grain for their iron horses.”

“That’s true,” Mrs. Pauling agreed. “But as a matter of fact, the first railroads in this country used horses. They were the original locomotives and pulled one or two railway coaches.”

By this time Mrs. Pauling and her guests had finished eating. Bess and George said they really must leave in order to get back to the lodge in time to change their clothes and get to the tennis courts. After thanking their hostess, the girls hurried off.

At two o’clock Mr. Jennings rang the bell and said he was ready to begin work. The old stagecoach was dragged to a vacant barn at the rear of the property and the job started.

Mr. Jennings proved to be a talkative individual. “This is one of the best Concord coaches ever built,” he remarked. “See how gracefully the carriage body was slung on these leather straps. They served as springs, you know.”

Nancy wished he would hurry taking the stagecoach apart, but he slowly laid out all his tools from a large box and a cloth-wrapped kit which he removed from his car.

“Many laws were passed in connection with the operation of stagecoaches,” he went on. “One act of the legislature required lamps to be used on all coaches running at night. Drivers were fined for not doing this. Another regulation was against leaving the horses unfastened while they were hitched to a coach standing still without a driver.”