(#28) The Clue of the Black Keys (11 page)

“While you’re away, it seems to me you ought to put this in a safer place,” she advised.

“You’re right,” Nancy admitted. “From now on, I’m going to know where it is every minute.”

She fastened the half-key securely to a narrow but strong, flesh-colored ribbon. Then she tied the ribbon and slipped it over her head, hiding the key inside her blouse.

“I should have thought of this before Juarez came here,” she told the housekeeper.

Nancy was ready to leave. Bess and George arrived and wished her a wonderful trip. Ned came and they drove off.

The hours sped by pleasantly. Before Nancy realized it, the time had come for Ned to leave her at Frances Oakes’s dormitory.

“Good-by and good luck,” he said. “Wish I were going to Florida.”

After a leisurely evening and breakfast with Fran and her friends, Nancy taxied with them to the airport. Dr. Anderson was there and most of the students who were taking the trip.

When they were taking seats, Nancy selected the one next to Dr Anderson. She said, “Do you mind?” and pretended not to notice when the professor gave her a cold, unfriendly stare.

The engines roared and the plane sped down the runway and lifted gently into the sky.

Nancy waited for the professor’s face to unfreeze in a smile. But he stared straight ahead.

“I’ll have to use diplomacy if I’m ever to win his friendship,” she thought.

Aloud she said, “I looked up the answer to the question I missed on the quiz. About the Zapotecs.” The professor merely nodded.

Then Nancy mentioned the Indian tribes in Florida. She spoke guardedly of a diary which described their legends. It had been written, she said, partially in an Indian tongue.

“Might have been Timucuan,” growled Dr. Anderson. “At the time of the conquest, Timucuan was the language known all over Florida.”

After he said that, his face flushed and his eyes got fiery.

“Look here, Miss Drew, why don’t you admit you’ve been working for Terry Scott—that you still work for him? Are you meeting him in Florida?”

“No,” Nancy said quietly. “Terry has gone to Mexico.”

Dr. Anderson exclaimed, “Mexico! What has he found out? Why has he gone back there?”

When Nancy did not immediately reply, he burst out petulantly, “I suppose he took that half-key with him. He has no right to it!”

CHAPTER XV

The Helpful Fisherman

NANCY winced. Terry had no right to the obsidian key? Who had a right to it if Professor Scott did not?

If Dr. Anderson only knew that the key was not two feet from him, he might feel even more disgruntled and suspicious than he was!

“Terry Scott has no more right to it than Dr. Graham and I have,” Dr. Anderson continued in an angry tone.

Nancy breathed easier. Smiling, she said, “Perhaps not. But someone has to keep it.”

“Well,” the professor said testily, “Terry Scott is acting mighty secretive about the whole thing. Why didn’t he inform me that he was going to Mexico?”

Nancy tried to keep her voice calm and unruffled. “As you know, Terry is on leave from his classes at Keystone this year. While you and Dr. Graham are busy with your teaching, he naturally feels that he ought to be trying to solve the ancient mystery.”

“He’ll make certain that he appropriates the honor and the glory, too,” Dr. Anderson complained bitterly.

“I’m sure that’s not his intention, Professor,” Nancy said, assuring him that Terry’s main concern was the disappearance of Joshua Pitt. Both she and Terry were fearful the doctor was being held a prisoner.

Dr. Anderson did not agree. He still had a feeling that the elderly professor was hunting for the treasure by himself.

“Anyway,” Nancy went on, “I’m sure that as soon as Terry learns anything definite, he’ll tell both you and Dr. Graham.”

“That old fuss-budget!” the professor scoffed.

Nancy laughed. “You know what I think, Dr. Anderson? You’re all jealous of one another. Talk about Terry being secretive! I’ll bet right now you have a secret you’re not telling either Terry or Dr. Graham.”

A slow flush came to Dr. Anderson’s face, and Nancy pressed her advantage.

“For instance, this trip to Florida. You have chosen that spot for the field trip because you think that something—or someone—is hidden there. Haven’t you?”

The professor was taken by surprise. He turned to peer at her, a startled look in his eyes.

“For a girl your age, you seem to know a lot of answers.” He sighed. “I may as well admit the truth. I suspect the treasure may be buried in Florida, and Dr. Pitt and Juarez know this.”

“Why?”

Dr. Anderson told her that during Juarez Tino’s call on him at Clifton, the man had ac cidentally dropped a hint. He had mentioned the fact that the ancient Indians of Mexico and Florida had a great deal in common in their state of civilization.

“I’m sure he didn’t figure that out himself,” Dr. Anderson said. “He got it from Pitt. Right away I suspected he’d been with Pitt in Florida and was double-crossing him.”

“Did you accuse him of that?” Nancy asked excitedly.

The professor nodded. “Juarez swore he hadn’t been near Florida. But I knew he was lying.”

“Wouldn’t he tell you anything about Dr. Pitt?”

“He was so furious at me for guessing it, that he raised his price. That was when I threw him out of my office.”

“I can’t blame you for that,” said Nancy. “And it fits right in with a theory of mine.” She told about Terry and the Wangells and the trick on the black piano keys. “But I’m positive Dr. Pitt and Juarez are enemies, not friends.”

She also told him about the warning message at the Drew house, and of her recent encounter with Juarez, when he had bound and gagged her, and shoved her under a bed.

“He’d probably treat a man even worse,” she added.

Dr. Anderson’s eyes widened. “I don’t mind saying I admire your spunk,” he remarked. “And I like the way you think things through. What would you say to our joining forces in Florida? Terry can’t object to that, while he’s in Mexico.”

Nancy agreed willingly, and the professor told her that the study group would have their headquarters at the Southern Skies Guest House in Miami. From there, they would take trips to museums and Indian villages to study the culture of present-day Seminoles.

“Of course I’ll do a bit of detective work on the side,” he told Nancy, and added slyly, “I suppose you’d like permission to do the same.”

Nancy was thrilled. Everything was turning out so well!

“And now that I’ve let you in on my secret, young lady,” Dr. Anderson said, “how about tell. ing me yours? What is your special project in Miami?”

“I’m afraid it’s not very definite,” Nancy admitted ruefully.

She told him about her discovery that the Wangells and Wilfred Porterly were heading for Florida. She also showed him the diary drawings which might possibly have a connection with the treasure.

“Of course it’s just a hunch,” Nancy said. “But if there is a Black Key down there, I think it may be the hiding place we’re seeking. I’d like to hunt for it.”

The professor stared in horror. “Explore the Keys—by yourself?”

Nancy laughed. “Not exactly. I was hoping you’d give Fran Oakes and me a separate assignment. We could study Indians too—the ancient Indians on the Keys.”

Anderson shook his head. “That would still be unwise. Two girls alone!”

“Fran has a cousin, Jack Walker, who lives in Miami,” Nancy explained eagerly. “He has a boat, and knows the bay. He could act as guide and protector.”

Dr. Anderson smiled. “That’s different,” he said. “I’ll talk to Miss Oakes’s cousin when we get to Miami, and if he seems the proper sort, I think we can arrange things.”

After that, the professor yawned a few times and began to doze. Even Nancy, excited as she was, at last went to sleep. When she awakened, the other students were excitedly scanning the view far below them. Nancy left her place by the professor and walked back to take the vacant seat beside Fran Oakes.

“Pines and lakes and palm trees,” Fran said. “We must be over Florida.”

Nancy told her new friend that Dr. Anderson might allow them to go exploring together on a field trip of their own.

“Do you think Jack Walker would take us in his motorboat?” she asked.

“He’d love to!” Fran declared.

After a hearty lunch on the plane, the travelers landed in Miami. The Southern Skies Guest House, where Nancy and five other girls were to stay, proved to be a very attractive place. Its palmstudded yard sloped to the edge of a pleasant inland waterway.

“Jack can bring his motorboat right to our door, Nancy,” Fran Oakes cried happily.

Mrs. Young, the guest-house owner, showed Nancy and her friends to two double rooms, then told them to make themselves comfortable. The girls thanked her, unpacked, then went for a swim.

That evening the student group assembled in the dining room of a hotel up the street. Professor Anderson outlined some local points of interest, then gave the students their assignments for the following days.

Nancy was awakened the next morning by Fran, who told her that Jack Walker was coming to the hotel at eight o’clock. They took quick showers and dressed.

Jack proved to be a good-looking man in his early thirties, serious-minded and athletic. Dr. Anderson seemed to take a liking to him.

“Miss Oakes and Miss Drew want to arrange their own field trip,” he said. “If you can give them some time, I’ll grant permission.”

“I’ll take the job—my boat’s in A-1 shape.” Jack grinned.

They skimmed over the blue water for two hours. Nancy tried to map out in her mind the complicated waterways of the area, but admitted defeat. At last they returned to the dock.

“I wish we could do our research on water skis.” Fran sighed.

Jack wanted to know what the research was. “It had better be interesting,” he teased.

“Nancy is treasure hunting,” Fran explained. “She’s looking for an island called Black Key. Know where it is?”

“Never heard of it. But I know the right man to tell her. His name is Two Line Parker.”

“What a funny name!” Fran giggled.

Jack took them to see the bearded old fisherman, who lived in a tiny white cottage on the waterfront. His eyes twinkling, he told them how he had received his curious nickname.

“I kin manage two lines at once,” he boasted, “just as easy as most folks handle one. Tell you ’bout the time I got me two big fish, one on the left side o’ the boat, one on the right side. They was tuggin’ so hard, I thought they’d pull me clean apart.”

“Did you bring both fish in?” Nancy asked.

“Sure did,” said Two Line. “I just tied those two lines together and let the fish fight it out. When they got tired, I pulled ’em in easy.”

The old fisherman laughed uproariously and winked at Jack. Then he asked what he could do for them.

“This young lady,” said Jack, indicating Nancy, “is looking for treasure on the Florida Keys. Have you any ideas, Two Line?”

The old man became thoughtful. “I don’t rightly know where to lay my hands on any at the present. But a heap o’ treasure has been buried time and agin on the Keys.”

“What kind of treasure?” Fran asked.

“Smugglers’ stuff. The Keys used to be a great place for smugglers. And then there was the pirates. They’d make raids on the cargo ships that passed this way.”

“Didn’t our Navy try to capture the pirates?”

Two Line Parker chuckled. “Sure, but for a long time they couldn’t catch ‘em. Those pirates was smart. They used shallow boats so they could sneak into the narrow channels of the Keys. They’d hole up there, after they’d made a raid. The big ships couldn’t follow ’em. They’d have grounded if they had.”

Jack asked who finally got rid of the pirates.

“Commodore Parker, back in 1824. He built a fleet o’ barges and some light-draft schooners. Went after them pirates and cleaned ’em out in no time.”

“And that was the last of the pirates?” Fran asked.

Two Line Parker smiled wryly. “I wouldn’t say that. Ever hear of the Florida reef wreckers?”

The girls shook their heads.

“I used to know a couple of ‘em myself. Wrecking captains, they was called. Here ’em talk, you’d think they was kind and honest. They’d keep boats ready. When there was a wreck, they’d sail out and rescue the folks on the doomed ship.”

“What was wrong with that?” Jack wanted to know.

Two Line Parker snorted. “It wasn’t just the folks they wanted to save, Jack. It was the cargo. Why, there was plenty of wreckers in the old days, what would lure ships onto the reefs at night with false signals. Wreck ’em on purpose, for the cargo.”

“How horrible!” Nancy cried indignantly.

“So you see, all sorts of things have happened on the Keys. Treasure hid and treasure stolen, I reckon. Any special Key you were thinkin’ of, young lady?”

“Do you know of a Black Key?”

Two Line Parker scratched his head. “Never heard tell of that one. I could name you hundreds. But Black Key—”

Then suddenly the old fisherman remembered something. “I tell you what, though. There’s that Key where the Black Falcon was sunk, back in the eighties, in a hurricane. I never heard a name for it, but Black Key’d be a good name on account of
the Black Falcon.”

Nancy was very excited now. This might be the place for which she was searching!

“But if I were you, young lady, I’d—” Two Line paused, shaking his head.

“You’d what?” Nancy prompted him.

“I’d stay away from there—I’d stay as far away as I could get!”

CHAPTER XVI

A Burned Letter

INSTEAD of being frightened by the fisherman’s warning, Nancy found her curiosity aroused about the island. She asked Two Line Parker why he had advised her to stay away from it.

“Stories they tell,” he answered. “The place is haunted, some folks think. Take that ship, the
Black Falcon,
the night she sank. I’ve heard Indians talk about it. They say a fire rose up out of her even when she was under water. And after that it rained frogs.”