Read Password to Larkspur Lane Online
Authors: Carolyn Keene
Tags: #Women Detectives, #Detective and Mystery Stories, #Girls & Women, #Mystery & Detective, #Juvenile Fiction, #Adventure and Adventurers, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Fiction, #Kidnapping, #Mystery Fiction, #Women Sleuths, #Adventure Stories, #Older People, #Swindlers and Swindling, #Drew; Nancy (Fictitious Character), #General, #Mystery and Detective Stories
Password to Larkspur Lane (9 page)
An hour later she came down from the second-floor phone and reported to the Cornings in the living room.
“Well, what did they say?” asked the old gentleman.
“None of these people ever heard of Morgan.”
The couple sat thunderstruck.
“Morgan!” Nancy exclaimed. “What are you doing?”
“Then the letters were forged?” said Mrs. Corning.
“I’m afraid so,” Nancy told her.
“Impossible!” snorted Mr. Coming. “I remember talking to one of those men on the telephone.”
“You must have spoken to an impostor,” said Nancy.
“But—but why would Morgan do this?” asked Mrs. Corning.
“Maybe his past made it impossible for him to get recommendations any other way,” said Nancy. “Whoever helped him must feel he has a hold over Morgan. Perhaps that is the ‘friend’ who has come back into his life.”
Mrs. Coming said presently, “Now that Morgan has returned, maybe it’s all over.”
“I doubt it,” said Nancy. “He’s still frightened.”
Her host spoke up. “Morgan’s always been honest and a hard worker. I say we give him another chance. Do you agree, Emily?”
His wife nodded. The girls said nothing.
After church and lunch Nancy looked through the advertising pages of the telephone directory for fireworks companies in the area, but found none. As she put the book away, there was a sharp knock on the front door. Nancy went to open it.
No one was there, but on the stoop was a long, narrow parcel wrapped in brown paper. It was addressed to Morgan. Suspicious, Nancy went to tell the Comings about it.
“Under the circumstances,” she said, “would you like to open this before Morgan does?”
“No,” her hostess said firmly. “I feel that what’s Morgan’s business is his business. Take the parcel to him, Nancy.”
With misgivings, she carried the package to the kitchen and handed it to the houseman. He stared at it and began to tremble. With shaking fingers Morgan removed the string and paper. He seemed lost in thought and unaware that Nancy was still in the room.
When Morgan opened the paper and saw the contents, his face turned white and he suddenly slumped to the floor.
In the package lay a few stalks of blue larkspur!
CHAPTER XI
A Hazardous Drop
QUICKLY Nancy knelt beside the unconscious servant.
“Morgan!” she said urgently, and lightly slapped his cheek. He did not stir. She wet a clean towel at the sink and patted his face.
A few moments later he moaned and muttered, “Last warning—tomorrow night—” Then his eyes opened and with Nancy’s help he managed to sit up.
She called the others and while Mrs. Corning telephoned the doctor, the girls assisted the man to his room. Mr. Corning seated himself beside the bed, but Morgan would speak to no one.
In a short time Dr. Bennett, an old friend of the family, arrived. He said the houseman had suffered a slight heart attack, and ordered him kept quiet.
“That means no questions,” Nancy thought. She had been mulling over the significance of the larkspur in the package. She put them in a vase. When the doctor had gone, she led the rest of the group into the living room and told the whole story.
“Larkspur again!” exclaimed George. “I don’t get it!”
“That’s one of the clues in your other case, Nancy,” Bess said, puzzled.
“Probably the two are connected,” the young sleuth replied. She told the Comings briefly about Mary Eldridge.
Bess looked surprised. “Why, what could Morgan have to do with the old lady’s kidnappers?”
“But Morgan has always been the soul of honesty,” protested Mrs. Corning.
“Perhaps not
always,”
Nancy said gently. “I believe he may have a prison record—under another name, of course. It would explain why he needed forged recommendations. Now Adam Thorne wants repayment.”
always,”
Nancy said gently. “I believe he may have a prison record—under another name, of course. It would explain why he needed forged recommendations. Now Adam Thorne wants repayment.”
“Adam Thorne!” exclaimed George. “Why him?”
“Because all the years Morgan worked for the Comings, no one bothered him, but after Adam Thorne broke out of prison, the friendship card arrived and the blue fire began.”
Mr. Corning stirred uneasily. “You spoke of repayment. What did you mean?”
“I think Thorne and his gang want to rob this house. Remember, the friendship card had no written message on it, but the picture showed a cottage with the door open.”
“I see,” said Bess. “That was the message—open the door.”
Mrs. Corning was pale. “Do you know when it is to be?”
“Tomorrow night, I think,” replied Nancy. “I believe the larkspur was a signal to Morgan—his last chance to cooperate. Probably the gang showed the blue fire and abducted Morgan to intimidate him.”
Mr. Corning’s face flushed with anger. “Scoundrels! We’ll get the police at once!”
“Wait!” said Nancy. “This is only a theory. If we hold off until tomorrow night, we’ll see if we’re right. Maybe we can catch the thieves red-handed and solve both cases at once.”
“But, in the meantime,” George said worriedly, “Morgan may have told the gang where you are.”
Nancy nodded. “Yes, I’ve thought of that.”
When Mr. Drew telephoned her a few minutes later he had disquieting news. The lawyer had reported to the police before flying to Chicago and asked them to keep in touch with him.
“Lieutenant Mulligan informed me they had not been able to trace the kidnap car. Also, when they arrived at the Tooker estate it was deserted. The gang took the pigeons.”
“I understand, Dad. My visit forced them to run. They’ll be more eager than ever to get me out of the picture.”
An hour later Nancy, Ned, and their friends were watching the swimming races at Camp Hiawatha. In the fun and excitement she found it hard to remember the threat of danger. Cheers and singing filled the air as the young campers put all their high-spirited enthusiasm into the contests.
When the swimming meet was over, she said, “It was great, Ned! Your little boys did so well!”
“Thanks,” he said proudly. “Now we can go swimming. Burt and Dave and I have free time.”
The boys showed their guests where to change into suits they had brought, then met them at the water’s edge. Tons of ocean sand had been transported overland to make a beach for the camp. A float was moored a few rods from shore with a tower and springboard for diving.
The three couples swam out to the float on which a dozen young people were frolicking. Ned introduced everyone.
“Oh, you’re the detective,” said one boy, playfully shielding his face with one arm.
Nancy laughed. “I promise not to delve into any of your secrets.”
George called, “But watch out, my friend!”
Suddenly Ned asked, “How about a little diving?”
One by one the group went off the high board. Presently it became an impromptu meet.
“Nancy, show them that new one you just learned,” Bess urged.
“I’ll try.” She smiled. “But I may flop.”
As everyone watched, Nancy balanced upside down on the edge of the board for a breathtaking moment, then thrust herself off. Her body revolved in the air and straightened out so that her pointed toes cleaved the water like a knife. Down she plunged into the green waters of the lake, then bobbed to the surface to hear the cheers of the spectators.
“Wonderful! Perfect!”
Panting, Nancy climbed back onto the float. As she threw herself down in the sun to rest, Ned came over. “That was a beauty, Nancy.”
“Just luck,” she insisted.
Later, when Nancy swam ashore with her friends, she was met by Mr. Dennis, the camp director. “Great diving exhibition, young lady! How would you like a job as counselor?”
“Thank you,” Nancy said, smiling, “but I already have a job.”
“Well, you and your friends stay to dinner,” the man said cordially, “and the evening camp.”
As he walked away, a bugle sounded. “We fellows must go now,” said Dave, “but we’ll take you home tonight after taps.”
Nancy called Mrs. Corning to tell her they would not be home for dinner, then the girls went to the guest dining hall.
During the meal two small boys appeared at their table with their arms full of parkas.
“Ned and Dave and Burt sent you their coats,” piped the tallest.
“ ‘Cause you didn’t bring yours,” said the other. They put the jackets on an empty chair and fled as the girls thanked them.
It grew chilly after dinner and the trio were glad to put on the parkas and pull up the hoods.
George flapped her dangling sleeves. “What a great fit this is!”
“Now you can’t tell us apart,” said Bess.
When it was dark, a long line of singing boys filed up a hill behind the camp. The girls followed their bobbing flashlights. At the top, the three stopped to look around. The wooded hill sloped steeply to a rocky drop-off. Fifteen feet below it was a huge bonfire.
The girls watched the campers wind slowly down the path, and saw that the first ones were already seated on another slope to the far side of the fire.
“Come on,” said Nancy, “but watch your step.”
She went first, with George beside her and Bess on the right. As they picked their way downward they could hear the giant blaze crackling.
Smoke billowed up and Bess paused, coughing. Suddenly a powerful push from behind knocked Bess off her feet.
Screaming, she began to roll down the hill toward the drop-off and the leaping flames!
CHAPTER XII
The Crystal Garden
“BESS!” George exclaimed, horror-stricken. “She’ll roll into the fire!”
Nancy scrambled down the hill, George beside her. With a flying leap she threw herself on Bess and stopped her from rolling. At the same time, George skidded down and caught one of her cousin’s flailing arms. The girls lay gasping, only a few feet from the drop-off and the bonfire below.
“Bess,” Nancy whispered, “are you hurt?”
“N-no,” Bess said shakily. “Oh, Nancy, somebody pushed me! If you and George hadn’t...”
Nancy looked grim. “I think someone mistook you for me. And I don’t want him to know he was wrong.”
As she spoke, three counselors hurried down the hill toward them, calling, “What happened? Anybody hurt?”
Nancy squeezed George’s hand. “We’ll pretend
I
am,” she whispered, then closed her eyes.
I
am,” she whispered, then closed her eyes.
“Yes,” George called out. “Nancy Drew! Please hurry. I’m afraid it’s bad.”
“She’s unconscious!” quavered Bess.
Moments later, a husky counselor was carrying Nancy up the hill while one of his companions ran ahead for the camp doctor.
“And get Ned Nickerson,” George called.
Forty minutes later Ned tenderly placed Nancy on the Comings’ living-room couch as Helen’s grandmother closed the draperies.
“Okay,” said Ned. “All clear.” Only then did Nancy open her eyes and sit up.
“You’re some actress, young lady,” said Mr. Corning.
Nancy smiled. “I didn’t have to do anything. Ned and Bess and George were the real actors.”
Bess giggled. “And the camp director and the doctor were good actors, too. Mr. Dennis insisted that we use his station wagon to bring Nancy home.”
“I just hope we fooled the one who pushed Bess,” said Nancy.
“Morgan must have told the gang you were here,” said George, “and one of them trailed us to the camp, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.”
Ned frowned. “Someone probably is still watching this house. To make our act look really good, we ought to call the doctor for Nancy.”
Mrs. Corning hurried off to put in the call. Soon she returned, and she reported that Dr. Bennett would be glad to cooperate.
Nancy chuckled. “We’ll make the gang think I’m out of action. Then they’ll pay no more attention to me and I can work freely.”
George spoke up. “I have a suggestion. If someone is watching this house, he’ll probably plan to speak to Morgan. How about Bess and me letting ourselves out the back door and watching?”
“I’ll do it,” Ned offered.
“No,” Mr. Corning said. “That would look too suspicious. I often take a little stroll outside before going to bed. In a few minutes one of you can follow me. While I’m out there no gangster will come to talk to Morgan through the window.”
He waved aside objections and left the room.
His wife said worriedly, “Oh, I hope everything will be all right. But suppose they strike here tomorrow night?”
“I have a plan,” Nancy replied, “if Ned and Burt and Dave will help us.”
“Sure we will,” said Ned. “It’s not our night off, but I know three fellows who’ll switch with us.”
“The thieves probably will go for the safe,” said Bess.
Mrs. Coming shook her head. “I’m afraid they’re after something very special. Come,” she added, seeing the questioning expressions of her guests, “I’ll show you.”
As their hostess led the way down the hall, Nancy quietly outlined her plan to Ned. “I’ll tell the others later.”
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