“That sounds reasonable,” the housekeeper conceded.
Nancy went on, “Since he simply helped himself to small amounts at a time, I believe he thought he was avoiding suspicion.”
George nodded. “You mean that although Uncle John was hiding the money so that the amount was the same as the book page, he wouldn’t be sure whether it was, say, a hundred and fifty or a hundred and forty that he had put in?”
“Exactly. And so he would not report the theft to the police.”
Bess said, “But you haven’t told us why the thief made a wreck out of this room.”
Nancy replied that it was evident he was hunting for something important beside the money. “Perhaps he knows we’re working on the mystery and is getting frantic to find the thing before we do.”
Bess sighed. “I almost hope he found what he was looking for and never comes back!”
“That would please me too,” said Mrs. Holman.
As the girls picked up the books and papers they looked at each one for a clue to the mystery. The papers gave no hint, so these were put back into the desk drawers.
Bess saw something sticking from under the desk and got down on hands and knees to look. There was another paper which she pulled out and held up.
“Oh no!” she cried.
The others turned to look. On the paper were two large black thumbprints.
Instantly Nancy was excited. The prints looked like the ones on the paper which had floated to her feet in the woods!
“I’ll get the other paper,” she said, and hurried up the stairs.
When she returned, the black prints were compared under a magnifying glass from Uncle John’s desk. They were exactly the same!
“I think I should take these papers to the police,” she said.
Her friends continued to hunt for clues in the books while Nancy went to town. She found Police Chief Rankin a rather stern man. Nancy stated her errand quickly and showed him the papers with the thumbprints.
After looking at them for several seconds, the officer said, “Tell me the whole story in detail.”
It took Nancy some time to give him an account of what had happened since her arrival in Emerson. When she finished, Chief Rankin said, “I’m afraid I didn’t put much credence in Mrs. Holman’s story about a phantom. As for the missing pearls, there were no fingerprints in the room but yours and hers. Frankly,” he went on with an apologetic smile, “I thought it likely you had mislaid the necklace, got excited, and reported it stolen. But now I see you’re not that kind of person. I will go out to Pine Hill myself and do a little investigating,” he added.
“That’s what I was hoping you would do,” said Nancy. “When will you come?”
“Right now. I’ll follow you in my car.”
Mrs. Holman and the girls were astonished to see Nancy drive in with the police chief. Bess whispered to the housekeeper, “Nancy’s very persuasive.”
After Nancy had introduced the chief to Bess and George, he gave the library a thorough inspection. The others waited patiently while he tapped the walls, looked up the chimney, and asked if there were a trap door under any of the rugs.
Bess whispered to George, “Nancy has already done all this. Why don’t we tell him so?”
“Better not,” her cousin replied. She smiled. “We might be interfering with his—er—duties!”
When the officer finished, he said firmly, “There’s only one possible way a thief could have entered this room. He must have a duplicate key to the padlock.”
“But, Chief Rankin,” Mrs. Holman spoke up, “there is only one key to this padlock and the man at the lock shop assured Mr. Rorick that the padlock could not be picked.”
Chief Rankin frowned. He did not argue with the housekeeper, but said crisply, “Take my advice—put a new padlock on at once and don’t let anyone get hold of the key to it!”
Mrs. Holman was a bit hurt by his pre-emptory manner, but she merely said, “I will do that.” Turning to Nancy, she asked, “Would you have time to run downtown and buy a new padlock?”
Nancy glanced at her wrist watch. It was just one o’clock and the girls were not due at the pageant until four. “I’ll have plenty of time,” she told the housekeeper.
As she went outdoors with Chief Rankin, he said that he would look around the grounds, although he did not think he would find anything helpful.
“Footprints wouldn’t mean anything. There must be hundreds of them around here, with people cutting grass, gardening, and searching for clues.” As he spoke the latter phrase, he looked significantly at Nancy.
She smiled in answer, then asked, “What about the bobbing light in the woods at night?”
“Have you seen it yourself?” the officer asked.
“Yes.”
Chief Rankin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I feel sure that no thief is going to give away his position by walking around those woods with a flashlight. I’d say they’re used by people who are taking shortcuts from the beach to the road.”
Nancy did not comment—the police chief might be right! She said good-by, thanked him for coming, and drove off to get the new padlock. She obtained one at Emerson’s largest hardware store. The owner assured her that the lock was the very latest model and positively could not be opened except with the proper key.
“Not even by a locksmith?” Nancy asked, her eyes twinkling.
“Well,” said the shop owner, “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. But it would take a real expert to figure this one out. What are you going to use it for?”
Nancy was vague in her answer. “Put it on a certain door to keep out burglars,” she said, chuck-ling, and the man did not ask any more questions.
She paid for the padlock and hurried home. Mrs. Holman predicted that even two locks on the library door were not going to keep out the phantom. Nevertheless, she permitted Nancy and George to install the new lock to which there were two keys. She took one herself, and suggested that Nancy take the other and hide it carefully.
During her absence, Bess and George had been looking through volume after volume of Uncle John’s books. But most of them had nothing to do with old boats or the history of the area.
Soon Mrs. Holman announced that luncheon was ready and the girls went into the dining room. There were cold cuts, potato salad, rich, ripe tomatoes, and a delicious chocolate mousse dessert.
“You are a marvelous cook,” Nancy said to Mrs. Holman. “Everything is so good!”
The girls insisted upon washing the dishes. While they were working, there was a knock on the back door and Bess opened it. Fred Jenkins walked in, grinning at the three girls.
“Hi, everybody!” he said. “I’ve got to work fast around here today, because I want to see that pageant, too.”
Mrs. Holman appeared and told him to vacuum the living room, then the hall.
“Okay,” he said, and went off to do it.
As soon as the girls had finished their dishwashing chore, they went back to the library to look at more books. Mrs. Holman accompanied them, a mop and dustcloth in her hands.
Fred, coming into the hall, saw her. “Oh, you shouldn’t be doing that,” he said. “I’ll dean the library for you.”
“No, thank you,” said the housekeeper. “Mr. Rorick doesn’t want anybody but me to work in the room.”
At that moment Fred noticed the two padlocks on the door. He began to laugh. “You sure must have a gold mine in that place.” The others ignored him.
As he worked in the hall, Mrs. Holman kept an eye on him. Each time he came near the door to the library, she went out and found him another job which took him away from it.
“He’s too nosy,” she said to the girls.
Presently the telephone rang and Mrs. Holman answered it. After a short conversation, she hung up and came to the library door. The housekeeper beckoned Nancy toward her and whispered:
“That was Chief Rankin. He said to tell you that the thumbprints on that paper are not on record. Whoever left them is not a known criminal.”
“That makes our job even harder,” Nancy commented.
By this time Fred had finished all the work which the housekeeper wanted him to do indoors that day. She told him to go outside and weed the garden.
Nancy and the housekeeper returned to the library. By this time the girls had gone through hundreds of books.
Suddenly Bess called out excitedly, “A clue! I’ve found a clue!”
CHAPTER VIII
Indian Attack
BESS had been seated atop a small ladder reading one of the very old books she had found. Now she jumped down and showed it to the others.
“There’s a whole article about the Lucy
Belle,”
she said. “And pasted in the back of the book is this.”
She pointed to a list of names, all men. Scrawled across the bottom of the sheet was the notation, “Survivors of the
Lucy Belle.”
“Oh, Bess,” Nancy cried out, “this is a wonderful find!” She began to count the names—there were nine. “Does it say in the article where the men went?”
“No, it doesn’t,” Bess replied. “It tells about the construction of the
Lucy Belle,
which was a combination freight and passenger steamboat.”
“Then it doesn’t mention the cargo?”
“No.”
“Girls,” said Nancy, “if we hurry, we’ll have time to stop at Mrs. Palmer’s before we go to the pageant. Let’s see if she can identify any of these names.”
Bess wanted to know what good that would do. “Those men have been dead a long time.”
“But they may have left families,” Nancy replied. “Maybe one or more of their descendants are around here and trying to find a clue to that treasure of coins.”
“You mean,” said Bess, “that one of them is the phantom?”
“Possibly.”
After Nancy copied the names, the three girls dressed quickly and set off for Mrs. Palmer’s home. She was surprised to see them so soon again, but appeared delighted. “I can tell by your eyes, Nancy, that you have more questions for me.”
Nancy smiled and produced the list of
Lucy Belle
survivors.
The elderly woman eyed it in amazement. “You are real sleuths,” she complimented her visitors.
Mrs. Palmer settled down in an armchair to study the list. Finally she went to a bookcase, and pulled out a thin volume which she said was the genealogy of the old families of Emerson. She went through each page carefully, comparing the names on it with those which Nancy had brought.
Presently she said, “I believe I have found something!”
“Yes?” Nancy asked, leaning forward eagerly.
The elderly woman said that two names in the book were identical with two on the list, although they were several generations apart. “It’s just possible that the younger ones are descendants of these survivors.”
“Do they live in Emerson now?” Nancy asked.
“Well, yes and no. There are two young men at the university whose families used to reside here but moved away. Their names are Tom Akin and Ben Farmer.”
The three girls exclaimed in surprise. “Why, Tom and Ben are Omegas!” George said.
Mrs. Palmer smiled. “You’re familiar with that fraternity?”
Nancy told her about Ned, Dave, and Burt inviting them for June Week. “Maybe the boys can give us some good leads,” she added.
Unable to restrain her enthusiasm, Nancy asked if she might use Mrs. Palmer’s telephone. “Help yourself, my dear.”
On the chance that Tom and Ben might still be at the Omega House, Nancy called it. To her delight, both of them were there. Quickly she explained why she had called.
Tom, who had answered the phone, said Yes, he was a direct descendant of the Tom Akin who was a survivor of the
Lucy Belle.
“I believe he was one of the officers.”
Nancy asked that when the boys had a chance they tell her all they knew about the history of the sunken ship. “We’ll be more than glad to. Say, you girls have no dates for the afternoon, have you? ... Well, we’re in the same boat. Our friends are in the pageant, too. How about sitting with us? Then Ben and I will tell you all we know.”
“Marvelous!” said Nancy. “We’ll be in the first row—Ned suggested that. Will you meet us there?”
“We’ll go right now and save seats,” Tom offered.
Before leaving Mrs. Palmer, Nancy planted a kiss of thanks on the woman’s cheek. “You’ve been a wonderful help. If I ever solve the mystery, I’ll come back to tell you.”
Mrs. Palmer smiled. “I hope that’s a promise.”
When the girls arrived at the water front, Tom and Ben were already there. As promised, the boys had saved three seats in the front row.
Almost at once, Tom gave an account of the sinking of the
Lucy Belle.
Both he and Ben had heard stories about it, but these did not differ from what the girls knew.
“I’ve heard, however,” Ben said, “that my fore-bear survived the shipwreck, only to be massacred later with some of the other survivors near the Indian village. He had left his wife and son in Pittsburgh, but afterward they came here to visit relatives and remained.”
“Killed by Indians! How awful!” exclaimed Bess.
“The white men must have provoked them,” Ben said. “Except for this one incident, they were friendly with the settlers at that time.”
George remarked, “What seems strange to me is that nobody has tried to retrieve the sunken treasure.”
“You mean the gold coins?” Tom asked. When George nodded, he said, “Oh, some of the college boys have tried in the past few years since scuba diving has become popular. Ben and I have been down several times.”
“You didn’t find any trace of them?” Nancy queried.
Tom laughed. “We couldn’t even find the ship. Maybe we didn’t have the right location, but everyone around here thinks the
Lucy Belle
is sunk so deep in the mud she’ll never be found. You know, the bottom of this tributary is really an underwater valley between the two shores.”
There was silence for a few moments, then suddenly Nancy asked, “Is it possible to rent diving equipment in Emerson?”