The Quest Of The Missing Map Part 11

"You'll have no problem with Captain Stryver at the wheel," said Mr. Heppel. "He's honest and dependable," the owner declared, and the deal was concluded. The captain was promptly engaged and given the task of selecting a crew. Happy about the a.s.signment, he left for New York.

Nancy's preparations for the trip were at their height later that morning when she received a telephone call from Chief McGinnis of the River Heights police force.

"We have a lead, Nancy," he said. The chief was a long-time friend of the Drews. "Spike Doty's address." He rattled off the number and name of the street. "It's a rooming house."

"That's in the worst district of town," Nancy commented.

"A couple of our men are down there now," the chief said. "Dressed like town hoods. They're waiting for Doty to appear."

"Are you sure he still lives in that apartment house?" Nancy asked.

"The landlady verified it but said he hasn't been to his room since night before last."

"I'd like to take a look around myself."

"If you want a police escort-"

"Oh, no. I don't want to scare Doty off or be too conspicuous. As a matter of fact-" She stopped speaking. "I'll be okay. Thanks just the same."

Not wis.h.i.+ng to reveal over the phone a plan she had suddenly thought of, Nancy a.s.sured him she would take no chances and said good-by. She went to her room and from the rear of her closet pulled out a dark-colored dress that was out of style, a pair of old brown shoes, and a bottle of gray dusting powder for the hair.

"I hope this'll work," she said to herself. "Too bad Hannah and Dad aren't here so I could tell them my plan."

Quickly she changed clothes and brushed some of the powder into her hair, giving it a gray tinge. She combed it to give a scraggly appearance. Fully disguised, Nancy posed in front of the full-length mirror in the hall.

"Well, Mrs. Frisby, are you ready to do some housecleanin'?" Nancy asked her reflection. Could she trap the thief in this disguise? A broad grin spread across her face as she answered, "Give me a broom and I'll sweep Doty into jail!"

In a short while Nancy was on her way. She parked her car in a nice neighborhood several blocks from Doty's rooming house. Then, hunching her shoulders and lowering her head, she walked the rest of the distance. An untidy landlady answered her knock.

"What do you want?" she bellowed, glaring at the old woman before her.

A crude letter holder hung on the wall. Chalked onto it were several names and room numbers. Doty's was 22.

"I come t' clean up Mr. Doty's room," Nancy announced. "Kin I start right now? Just tell me where you keep everything and open his door, please. I'll be in and out in a jiffy."

The red-haired woman looked surprised but led Nancy up the sagging stairway. "All the cleaning stuff's in the closet down the hall. His room's over there. Door's always unlocked. I can't figure that guy. He's been out for almost two days and wants his room cleaned. For who? The mice?"

Without waiting for an answer, the landlady started downstairs, leaving Nancy alone. The young sleuth opened the door to Spike Doty's room. It was shabby and contained only a desk, a bed, and a chair, all piled with old newspapers and torn envelopes. She pretended to straighten up the room, hunting through the papers for a clue to any accomplices of Doty's or to his whereabouts if he had left town.

Could she trap the thief in this disguisel Nancy wondered "What if he has gone to Little Palm Island!" Nancy frowned at the possibility.

As she continued to "clean up," a car stopped in front of the apartment house, but she was unaware of this. Fred and Irene Brown, somewhat disguised, alighted. They presented themselves at the door and inquired about Spike Doty.

"For someone who's not around he sure gets enough visitors," the landlady said irritably.

"Who else came here?" Fred Brown asked quickly.

"The cleaning woman for one. Look, I'm getting tired answering questions. Doty's not here. That's all I know."

"We do hate to take up your time, but could we talk somewhere in private?" Mrs. Brown inquired with exaggerated politeness. "We're Mr. and Mrs. Fred Brown."

As she spoke, a young man brushed past them and started upstairs.

"Wait a minute, fella. You don't live here," the landlady shouted after him.

"I'm visiting a friend," he called back, without turning around.

The annoyed woman threw up her hands in disgust and shook her head, then turned to the couple. "In here," she said and led them into a small living room.

The Browns asked a few more questions. "This cleaning woman you mentioned, do you know how we can get in touch with her?" the man asked.

"You won't have to go far. She's still upstairs."

At that moment Nancy was about ready to give up what was proving to be a fruitless search.

"A wasted afternoon!" she admonished herself. "I'd better do a little cleaning before the landlady comes barging in. Or before Doty returns!"

She had just folded the last newspaper when the k.n.o.b began turning and the door creaked open.

CHAPTER XVI.

A Hoax "NED! What are you doing here?" Nancy cried in astonishment.

"I spotted you when you parked your car. In that get-up I knew you were up to something and decided to find out what it was," Ned answered quickly. "But I didn't want to interrupt your sleuthing so I stayed behind a distance. Listen, Fred and Irene Brown are downstairs," he added as a knock came at the door.

"Hey, what's going on?" the landlady asked, stepping inside. "I thought you said you were visiting a friend." She glared at Ned, who did not answer.

The woman turned to Nancy. "There's a man and his wife downstairs who want to see you-I don't know what about!"

Nancy squeezed Ned's hand, signaling him to watch her. Without saying a word to each other, they followed the landlady to the first floor.

As she turned into the living room, Nancy and Ned quickly sidestepped her, dashed outside and got into his car. As they shot away from the curb, Nancy turned to look back. The landlady, anger in her eyes, was flailing her arms wildly at Mr. and Mrs. Brown and shooing them down the front steps.

"Guess she didn't like them either," Nancy thought.

Ned drove Nancy to the spot where she had parked the convertible, then waved good-by, saying he would see her later.

Nancy went directly home, and after removing her disguise, glanced through the mail which had been delivered earlier. There was a letter from her Aunt Eloise but most of the envelopes contained advertis.e.m.e.nts. One, however, was addressed to her in pencil and had been mailed the day before. The message inside had been scrawled on a sheet of cheap tablet paper. It read: Dear Miss Drew: I tuk yer boat

cus I need money but I can't sell it.

You can hev it back for a few bucks.

It says somethin important inside.

Don't tell the cops and come alone

on foot to 47 White Stret.

Nancy read the message a second time, then ran to the kitchen to show it to Hannah.

"This practically shatters one of my best theories!" she declared. "I had a hunch that the s.h.i.+p model had been stolen by Fred and Irene Brown. This note seems to prove I was wrong."

"It appears to have been written by a young or poorly educated person," the housekeeper commented as she looked at the misspelled words. "He signs himself Ted." After a pause Hannah asked, "What will you do, Nancy?"

"I don't know. Strange I didn't notice anything carved inside the Warwick model." She paused a moment. "It's a long distance to White Street, but this note says to come on foot-"

"Nancy, I can't permit you to walk through that area!" Hannah Gruen exclaimed.

"I'll take the car," Nancy said. "And maybe I won't have to go inside the house."

Mrs. Gruen did not approve of the mission and begged Nancy to be careful. The young detective was well on her way to White Street when it occurred to her it was odd that Ted knew her name and address.

She had no intention of walking into a trap and made up her mind she would not enter the house. Instead, she would insist that the s.h.i.+p model be brought to her.

As Nancy pulled up before Number 47, a shabby, old-fas.h.i.+oned house, she saw a boy with a sharp, taut face seated on the porch. Evidently he had been expecting her, because he quickly came to the car.

"Are you Ted?" she asked, trying not to seem unfriendly.

"That's me," he answered gruffly, "but you was supposed to come on foot. You want the boat?"

"Yes I do, Ted. May I ask why you stole it from my car?"

"You kin ask all you want but I ain't givin' no answers," the boy retorted saucily. "The boat's upstairs."

"You must bring it to me."

"Grandma won't let it go without the money," the boy said stubbornly. "She's sick in bed and we need the cash. If you want to see the s.h.i.+p, you gotta come upstairs."

Nancy was in a quandary. A chance to obtain the needed information on the exact location of the treasure might be lost! Reluctantly she climbed up a flight of worn stairs through a dark hall to a wood-paneled bedroom.

"Grandma, this is the girl," Ted said by way of introduction.

He disappeared, closing the door behind him. Nancy was startled by his sudden departure but tried not to show alarm. She attempted to rea.s.sure herself that nothing seemed amiss. The Warwick was in plain sight on the table beside the bed.

"How much money you got on you?" the elderly woman asked in a squeaky voice, her face half hidden under the covers.

Nancy opened her purse and pulled out several bills.

A gleam of satisfaction lit up the old lady's eyes as she reached for the money. "The s.h.i.+p's yours. Only promise you won't make trouble for Ted."

"Very well," Nancy consented, and turned from the bed to lift the model from the table.

Instantly the elderly woman threw off the covers and leaped from bed. Irene Brown!

Simultaneously, Fred Brown appeared from inside a closet and tried to pin Nancy's arms behind her. As she struggled violently, the s.h.i.+p crashed to the floor.

Although Nancy fought with all her strength, she was no match for her a.s.sailants. In a moment they held her fast.

"The clever Miss Drew wasn't so smart this time!" the man gloated, taking a handkerchief from his pocket to gag her.

Securely bound, Nancy was shoved through a closet with a concealed door which connected with an adjoining vacant house. She was seated at a table and told to write a letter to Hannah Gruen. Nancy was to request that the piece of map found in the s.h.i.+p model be sent to her at once.

"Don't try to get away with anything in this letter," Fred Brown threatened.

In despair, Nancy slowly composed the message. She knew she could not include anything that would indicate her true predicament. There was just one faint hope of outwitting the sinister couple. Accordingly she wrote: Please give bearer the copy of the map found in the s.h.i.+p model.

Nancy "Perhaps if I concentrate very hard, I can get a thought wave to Hannah, so she'll make a copy-but not an exact one," Nancy told herself. "It's my one hope."

Unknown to Nancy, Mr. Drew and Ned already were alarmed over her long absence from home. Informed by the worried housekeeper that Nancy had gone to the White Street address, they set off in Ned's car to search for her.

"It isn't like Nancy to stay away so long without any explanation," the lawyer declared as Ned parked at the curb. "She may have walked into a trap."

As they rang the doorbell again and again Ned remarked that Nancy's car was not in sight. He knocked on the door several times but received no response.

At last Mr. Drew became impatient. Trying the door and finding it unlocked, he entered with Ned close behind.

"Why, this place is deserted," he observed as they looked into the empty first-floor rooms. "We do have the correct address, I hope."