Carolyn Keene_Nancy Drew Mystery Stories_01 Read online

  Although Nancy gave no indication of her feelings, the possibility that Mr. Crowley had made a new will thrilled her. As soon as Mr. Drew paid the luncheon check, the three arose and left the dining room. Mr. Rolsted took leave of Nancy and her father in the lobby.

  “Well, Nancy, did you find out what you wanted to know?” Mr. Drew asked after the lawyer had left.

  “Oh, Dad, it’s just as I suspected. I’m sure Mr. Crowley did make a later will! He hid it some place! If only I could find out where!”

  “It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack,” Mr. Drew commented.

  “I must figure out a way!” Nancy said with determination. “I want to help little Judy.”

  She awoke the next morning thinking about the mystery. But where should she start hunting for possible clues to a second will? She continued pondering about it while she showered and dressed.

  As she entered the dining room, she was greeted with a cheery “Good morning” from her father and Hannah Gruen. During breakfast Mr. Drew said, “Nancy, would you do a little errand for me this morning?”

  “Why, of course, Dad.”

  “I have a number of legal documents which must be delivered to Judge Hart at Masonville some time before noon. I’d take them myself, but I have several important appointments. I’d appreciate it if you would drive over there with them.”

  “I’ll be glad to go,” Nancy promised willingly. “Besides, it’s such a wonderful day. I’ll enjoy the trip. Where are the papers?”

  “At the office. You can drive me down and I’ll get them for you.”

  Nancy, wearing a yellow sunback dress and jacket, hurried away to get her gloves and handbag. Before Mr. Drew had collected his own belongings, she had brought her car from the garage and was waiting for him at the front door.

  “I put the top down so I can enjoy the sun,” she explained as her father climbed in.

  “Good idea. I haven’t heard you mention the Crowley case yet today,” Mr. Drew teased as they rode along. “Have you forgotten about it?”

  Nancy’s face clouded. “No, I haven’t forgotten, but I must admit I am stumped as to where to search for clues.”

  “Maybe I can help you. I’ve learned that the two girls on River Road who expected to be remembered in the will are named Hoover. You might look them up on your return trip.”

  “That’s great. I’ll watch the mailboxes for their name.”

  When they reached the building where Mr. Drew had his office, Nancy parked the car and waited while her father went upstairs to get the legal documents to be delivered to Judge Hart. Returning a few minutes later, he placed a fat Manila envelope in his daughter’s hand.

  “Give this to the judge. You know where to find him?”

  “Yes, Dad. In the old Merchants Trust Company Building.”

  “That’s right.”

  Selecting a recently constructed highway, Nancy rode along, glancing occasionally at the neatly planted fields on either side. Beyond were rolling hills.

  “Pretty,” she commented to herself. “Oh, why can’t all people be nice like this scenery and not make trouble?”

  It was nearly eleven o’clock when she finally drove into Masonville. Nancy went at once to Judge Hart’s office but was informed he had gone to the courthouse. Recalling that her father had mentioned the necessity of the papers being delivered before noon, she set off in search of the judge.

  Nancy had considerable trouble trying to see him, and it was twelve o’clock when at last she delivered the Manila envelope into his hands.

  “Thank you very much,” he said. “I’ll need these directly after lunch.”

  Nancy smiled. “Then I’m glad I found you.”

  When Judge Hart learned that Nancy was the daughter of Carson Drew, he at once insisted that she have luncheon with him and his wife at their home before returning to River Heights.

  She accepted the invitation and spent a very pleasant hour with the Harts. During the meal the judge laughingly asked if Nancy was still playing aide to her father.

  “Oh, yes,” she said, and at once told him about the Drews’ interest in the Crowley case.

  “Did you know Josiah Crowley or ever hear of him?” she asked.

  Both the Harts nodded. “A maid who used to be with them, came to work for us after Mrs. Crowley’s death,” the judge explained. “Jane herself passed away a short time ago.”

  “We never met Josiah,” Mrs. Hart added, “but Jane pointed him out to my husband and me one time down on Main Street.”

  “Did he have relatives or friends in town?” Nancy inquired.

  “I think not,” the judge replied.

  Nancy wondered what old Josiah had been doing in Masonville if he had no relatives or friends there. The town was not known as a spot for sight-seeing. Her interest was further quickened when Mrs. Hart remarked that she had seen Mr. Crowley in town at another time also.

  “How long ago was that?” the girl asked.

  Mrs. Hart thought a minute, then replied, “Oh, less than a year, I’d say.”

  When luncheon was over, the judge said he must leave. Nancy told the Harts she too should go. She thanked them for their hospitality, then said good-by. Soon she was driving homeward.

  “Why had Mr. Crowley gone to Masonville?” she asked herself. “Could it have had anything to do with a later will?”

  Nancy had chosen a route which would take her to River Road. Half an hour later she turned into the beautiful country road which wound in and out along the Muskoka River, and began to look at the names on the mailboxes. “Hoover,” she reminded herself.

  About halfway to River Heights, while enjoying the pastoral scenes of cows standing knee-high in shallow sections of the stream, and sheep grazing on flower-dotted hillsides, Nancy suddenly realized the sun had been blotted out.

  “A thunderstorm’s on the way,” she told herself, glancing at black clouds scudding across the sky. “Guess I’d better put the top of the car up.”

  She pressed the button on the dashboard to raise the top, but nothing happened. Puzzled, Nancy tried again. Still there was no response. By this time large drops of rain had started to fall.

  “I’ll get soaked,” Nancy thought, as she looked around.

  There was no shelter in sight. But ahead, past a steep rise, was a sharp bend in the road. Hopeful that there would be a house or barn beyond, Nancy started the car again.

  Vivid forked lightning streaked across the sky. It was followed by an earth-shaking clap of thunder. The rain came down harder,

  “Oh, why didn’t I bring a raincoat?” Nancy wailed.

  When Nancy swung around the bend, she was delighted to see a barn with lightning rods about a quarter mile ahead. Farther on stood a small white house.

  “I wonder if that’s the Hoover place,” Nancy mused.

  By now the storm was letting loose in all its fury. The sky was as dark as night and Nancy had to switch on her headlights to see the road. She was already thoroughly drenched and her thought of shelter at this point was one of safety rather than of keeping dry.

  Nancy turned on the windshield wipers, but the rain was so blinding in its intensity, it was impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. Almost in an instant the road had dissolved into a sea of mud.

  Nancy had been caught in a number of storms, but never one as violent as this. She feared a bad skid might land her in a ditch before she could reach the shelter of the barn.

  “How much farther is it?” she worried. “It didn’t seem this far away.”

  The next instant, to Nancy’s right, a ball of fire rocketed down from the sky.

  “Oh! That was close!” she thought fearfully. Her skin tingled from the electrical vibrations in the air.

  A moment later a surge of relief swept over Nancy. “At last!” she breathed.

  At the side of the road the barn loomed up. Its large double doors were wide open. Without hesitation, Nancy headed straight for the building and drove in.
/>   The next moment she heard a piercing scream!

  CHAPTER V

  A Surprising Story

  NANCY froze behind the wheel. Had she inadvertently hit someone? Her heart pounding in fright, she opened the car door to step out.

  At the same instant a shadowy figure arose from a pile of hay near her. “I guess I must have scared you silly when I screamed,” said a girl of Nancy’s age, stepping forward.

  “You—You’re all right?” Nancy gasped.

  “Yes. And I’m sorry I yelled. I came out here to check on our supply of feed for the chickens. I didn’t think it was going to be a bad storm, so I didn’t bother to go back to the house.”

  “It’s pretty bad,” said Nancy.

  “Well, the storm terrified me,” the girl continued. “I didn’t hear your car coming, and when it rushed in here, I panicked.”

  Nancy began to breathe normally again, then told the stranger her name and the fact that the mechanism for raising the top of the convertible was not working.

  “That’s a shame,” said the girl. “And you must get your clothes dried. The storm is letting up. Let’s dash over to the house. Grace will help you too. She’s my sister. My name’s Allison Hoover.”

  Hoover! Nancy was tempted to tell Allison that she had been planning to call, but she decided not to mention it at the moment. It might be better to do her sleuthing more subtly.

  Nancy smiled at Allison. “Thanks a million. But first I’d like to wipe out the car. Are there any rags around the barn?”

  Allison produced several and together the two girls mopped the water from the cushions and floor. By this time the rain had stopped. As Nancy and Allison sloshed through a series of puddles to the farmhouse, Nancy had a better chance to study her companion. She was tall, with reddish-blond hair and very fair skin. Her voice was musical and she had an attractive, lilting laugh.

  The girls reached the run-down farmhouse and stamped the mud from their shoes on the back porch. Then Allison flung open the door, and they entered a cheerful kitchen.

  As the door shut behind them, another girl who was just closing the oven of an old-fashioned range turned toward them in surprise.

  “Grace, I’ve brought a visitor,” Allison said quickly. “Nancy, I want you to meet my sister. She’s the mainstay of our family of two.”

  Grace Hoover cordially acknowledged the introduction and greeted Nancy with a warm smile. Nancy judged her to be at least four years older than Allison. Her face was rather serious, and it was evident from her manner that responsibility had fallen on her shoulders at an early age.

  Nancy was attracted to both girls and responded to their friendly welcome. She put on a robe which Allison brought her and Grace hung her wet clothes near the range. Presently Grace pulled an ironing board from a closet with the intention of pressing Nancy’s garments. But Nancy would not hear of this and began to iron them herself.

  “This is fun,” she said to the sisters. “I don’t know what I would have done without you girls.”

  “It’s great for us,” Allison spoke up. “We don’t have much company. To tell you the truth, we can’t afford it.”

  Grace stepped to the stove, removed a golden-brown cake from the oven, and set it on the table to cool.

  “But today we’re not talking about money. It’s Allison’s birthday and this is a birthday cake. Nancy, if you’re not in too much of a hurry, I wish you’d join us in a little celebration.”

  “Why, I’d love to,” Nancy said.

  “Grace’s cakes are yummy,” Allison declared. “I’m not much of a cook myself. My department is taking care of the barn and the chickens.”

  Soon Nancy finished pressing her clothes and put them back on. Meanwhile, the cake had cooled and Grace started to spread the chocolate frosting.

  “Suppose you two go into the living room and wait,” she suggested. “I’ll bring in the cake and tea.”

  Nancy followed Allison to the adjoining room. Although it was comfortable, the room did not contain much furniture. The floor had been painted and was scantily covered with handmade rag rugs. With the exception of an old-fashioned sofa, an inexpensive table, a few straight-backed chairs and an old oil stove which furnished heat in cold weather, there was little else in the room. However, dainty white curtains covered the windows, and Nancy realized that although the Hoovers were poor, they had tried hard to make their home attractive.

  “Do you two girls live here alone all the time?” Nancy inquired.

  Allison nodded. “Grace and I have been living here since Father died. That was two years ago. Mother passed away just before that,” the girl added with a slight catch in her voice. “Their illnesses took every penny we had.”

  “I’m terribly sorry,” Nancy remarked sympathetically. “It must be dreadfully hard for two girls to run the farm by themselves.”

  “Our farm isn’t as large as it once was,” Allison said quietly. “We have only a few acres left. I know you are too polite to ask how we manage, Nancy. Grace helps a dressmaker at Masonville whenever she can get work. She makes all her own clothes and mine too. And I raise chickens.”

  From just beyond the doorway suddenly came the strains of “Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birth—”

  By this time Nancy had joined in. She and Grace finished “—day to you. Happy Birthday, dear Allison. Happy Birthday to you!”

  Grace set the cake with eighteen lighted candles on the table. She and Nancy sang the second verse with the words “May you have many more!”

  Tears stood in Allison’s eyes. When the song ended, she grasped her sister in a tremendous hug. Then she gave Nancy one.

  “This—this is the nicest birthday I’ve had in years,” she quavered.

  “And it’s one of the most enjoyable I’ve ever attended,” Nancy said sincerely.

  Suddenly Allison began to sing a tuneful old English ballad about the birthday of a village lass. Nancy listened entranced to Allison’s clear, bell-like tones. When she finished, Nancy applauded, then said:

  “That was perfectly lovely. You have a beautiful voice, Allison!”

  The singer laughed gaily. “Thank you, Nancy. I’ve always wanted to take lessons, but as you know, voice training is pretty expensive.”

  At that moment Grace brought in a tray of fragrant tea. As she poured three cups, Allison blew out the candles and served the cake.

  “I’ve never tasted anything more delicious in all my life,” Nancy said enthusiastically.

  The three girls chatted like old friends. Finally the sun broke through the clouds. As Nancy rose to leave, she noticed an unusual picture on the wall opposite her and commented on its beauty.

  “Uncle Josiah Crowley gave it to us,” Allison told her. “If he were only alive now, things would be different.”

  At the mention of the name, Nancy sat down again. Was she going to pick up a clue to the possibility that Mr. Crowley had made a later will?

  “He wasn’t really our uncle,” Grace explained. “But we loved him as much as though he were a relative.” Her voice broke and for a moment she could not go on. Then, gaining control of herself, she continued, “He lived on the farm next to us—that was when Mother and Father were alive. All of Allison’s and my misfortunes seemed to come at once.”

  “He was the dearest man you ever saw,” Allison added. “Some people thought him queer, but you never minded his peculiar ways after you knew him. Uncle Josiah was very good to us. He always told me that he’d back me in a singing career.”

  “Yes,” Grace added. “Uncle Josiah used to say Allison sang as sweetly as a bird and he wanted to pay for lessons with a famous teacher. But after he went to live with the Tophams, he never said any more about it.”

  “He never liked it with the Tophams, though,” Allison declared. “They weren’t kind to him, and he used to slip away to visit us.”

  “Uncle Josiah often said that we seemed like his own children,” Grace spoke up. “He brought us many nice gifts, but we l
oved him for himself and not his money. I remember, though, the very last day we saw him alive, he told us ‘I have planned a big surprise to make you girls happy. But I can’t tell you now what it is. You’ll see it in my will.’ Those were his very words.”

  “And then the Tophams got everything,” Allison said. “He must have changed his mind for some reason.”

  “It’s hard to believe he would forget his promise to us,” Grace said sadly.

  “Oh, wouldn’t it be wonderful if a later will could be found!” Allison exclaimed.

  “Yes,” Nancy replied slowly. “I’ve heard that Mr. Crowley told other people he was leaving money to them. The Turner sisters, for instance. Do you know them?”

  “Slightly,” Grace answered.

  “My dad,” Nancy went on, “is a lawyer and he and I are very much interested in this case. He even mentioned you girls, and to tell the truth I was on my way here to talk to you.”

  Allison impulsively grasped Nancy’s arm. “You say your father is a lawyer? Grace and I are positive Uncle Josiah made a later will. Oh, if we could only engage your father to help us prove this!” Then a sad look came over her face. “But I’m forgetting—we wouldn’t have any money to pay him if we should lose the case.”

  “Don’t let that worry you,” said Nancy kindly. “This is your birthday and you must be happy, Allison. My special wish for you is that before you’re one year older, you’ll inherit some of the Crowley money, so that you can take those singing lessons!”

  CHAPTER VI

  An Exciting Appointment

  THE HOOVER girls walked out to the barn with Nancy. “Do come to see us again,” Grace called, as the young detective climbed into her car.

  “Yes, please do,” Allison added.

  Nancy promised that she would. “As soon as I have some news,” she said.

  Although the weather had cleared, the River Road remained muddy and slippery. Nancy found it necessary to drive with extreme care for the next two miles until she reached the main highway.