Authors: Carolyn G. Keene

The Witch Tree Symbol (2 page)

BOOK: The Witch Tree Symbol

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Mrs. Tenney flushed with embarrassment, admitting that she could not remember, nor could she recall his name.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Nancy. “We can go to each hotel in town and inquire about guests interested in antique furniture.”

As Nancy finished speaking, she and Mrs. Tenney became aware of light footsteps overhead. Someone was on the second floor! Mrs. Tenney stood frozen to the spot, every bit of color drained from her face. But without a moment’s hesitation Nancy dashed to the stairway.

“Oh, don’t go up there!” Mrs. Tenney gasped. “You might get hurt!”

Nancy stopped, not because of the warning, but because she heard stairs creaking. The intruder was probably trying to escape!

“Is there a back staircase?” Nancy asked Mrs. Tenney. As she received no answer, she whirled around.

To her dismay, Mrs. Tenney lay on the floor in a faint. Although Nancy realized that the intruder might escape, she rushed to give the woman first aid. A few moments later Mrs. Tenney’s eyelids flickered open. Instantly Nancy dashed off in pursuit of the intruder.

But the pause had proved to be costly. When she reached the back of the old mansion, Nancy found the outside kitchen door open. Looking out, she saw a tall, slender man disappearing through a hedge at the rear of the property.

Nancy felt it would be useless to try to overtake him. She locked the back door and returned to Mrs. Tenney. The woman was sitting on the staircase.

“How do you feel?” Nancy asked.

“Oh terrible, just terrible.” Mrs. Tenney moaned. “Please drive me home.”

“Right away.” Nancy locked the front door and helped the woman into the car. On the way to Mrs. Tenney’s house, Nancy asked for a full description of the antique dealer. Although the woman was almost too distraught to talk, Nancy learned that he was tall, slender, and dark, with flashing eyes, and was soft-spoken.

“But I’m sure he’s not the thief,” Mrs. Tenney insisted, as Nancy pulled up in front of her home. “I still think that cousin of mine is responsible. Aunt Sara always said he kept an eagle eye on her antiques. Of course, I’d hate to have him aware that I’m suspicious of him. But I’d certainly like to know if I’m right.”

Then, as a sudden thought struck Mrs. Tenney, she added, “Nancy, would you like to take this case for me? Please. You’re a good detective. Go see Alpha Zinn and find out whether he took the antiques.”

Nancy promised she would think it over and let the woman know. Right now, she would drive downtown to find out about the mysterious antique dealer who was staying in River Heights.

“By the way,” Nancy asked, “what does your cousin look like?”

“Oh, he’s short and plump,” Mrs. Tenney replied. “He eats too much.”

Mrs. Tenney got out of the car and Nancy hurried off on her search. She went from hotel to hotel As she did, she told herself that if her hunch was right, the suspect would have had plenty of time to check out and escape.

Finally at the Pickwick Arms, she repeated her query: Was a tall, slender, dark-haired, soft-spoken man registered there? Nancy added that she did not know his name, but wanted to get in touch with him about some antique furniture he had examined.

The clerk smiled and said, “I guess you mean Mr. Roger Hoelt. I’m sorry, miss, but you’re too late. He rushed in here, packed in a hurry, and checked out about fifteen minutes ago!”

CHAPTER II

Sleuthing Plans

“DID Mr. Hoelt leave a forwarding address?” Nancy asked the hotel clerk.

“No,” the man replied, “but you might find him listed in the New York City telephone directory. He gave that as his business address.”

Nancy was disappointed. She had been certain that the antique dealer had dropped the paper with the hex symbol, and had therefore come from Pennsylvania Dutch country!

Another idea occurred to her. Nancy identified herself and said that Mr. Hoelt was a suspect in a questionable business deaL

“Perhaps some of your records can help me locate him,” the girl said. “Did he make any long-distance telephone calls?”

“I’ll look up his bill,” the clerk offered and went into his office. In a short time he returned and said, “Mr. Hoelt phoned Lancaster, Pennsylvania, three days ago. He talked a long time, according to the charges.”

Nancy’s heart was beating fast. Lancaster
was
in Pennsylvania Dutch country! “Have you a record of the number?” she inquired.

“The operator told me the call was to a pay station,” the clerk replied. “I can give you the number, but I’m afraid it won’t help.”

Nancy thanked the man and left the Pickwick Arms. Her eyes were glowing. She was never happier than when working on a mystery. From the time her father had asked her to help him solve
The Secret of the Old Clock
to the recent hazardous
The Scarlet Slipper Mystery,
the young detective never let a suspect elude her for long.

Now, as she thought about Roger Hoelt, Nancy was more convinced than ever that he had stolen the valuable antiques from the Follett mansion a day or two earlier. Perhaps he had called a friend in Pennsylvania to pick up the furniture in a truck.

“Hoelt may be listed in the police files,” Nancy mused. “I’ll ask Chief McGinnis.”

The River Heights police captain, an old friend of Nancy’s, greeted her warmly as she entered his office. “Well, Nancy!” He grinned. “Have you found a new mystery already?”

“Now stop teasing,” Nancy said. “Yes, I am working on another case. I need some information about Roger Hoelt. He may live in New York City.”

Chief McGinnis went to a filing cabinet. He riffled quickly through a series of cards.

“Here it is,” he said. “Roger Hoelt, six feet, slender, dark. Eyes, brown; nose, pointed; slight scar on tip of chin; soft-spoken; married. Lived as a child in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Well, young lady, is that your man?”

“That sounds like him.”

The chief told Nancy that Hoelt was a jewel thief who had served a prison term for holding up jewelry stores. “Made one big haul right here in River Heights,” he said, handing Nancy the man’s picture. “But he’s out free now,” he added.

After studying the photograph, Nancy informed the chief that she suspected Hoelt of stealing some antique furniture from the Follett mansion. “Has Mrs. Tenney reported it missing?”

“No.”

Nancy telephoned Mrs. Tenney and the woman spoke with the police chief. He promised to send two men to investigate the Follett house, and advised Mrs. Tenney to notify the executors immediately.

“I want a complete list of the missing articles,” he directed.

When the chief had completed his conversation, Nancy said she hoped to arrange a trip to Lancaster, Pennsylvania, to search for Hoelt and the missing furniture.

“Maybe you’ll find the thief before we do!” Chief McGinnis predicted, bidding her good-by.

At home, Nancy was greeted by her tall, handsome father, a well-known attorney, and Hannah Gruen, the motherly housekeeper who had lived with the family since Mrs. Drew’s death many years before.

“Nancy,” Hannah said, “don’t you ever get hungry? We’ve waited dinner an hour for you.”

Nancy apologized and during the meal described the mystery that had delayed her.

“Mrs. Tenney wants me to go to Pennsylvania Dutch country and prove that her cousin is the one who removed the antiques from the Follett home,” she said. “I’d like to make the trip, even though I’m convinced the real thief is Roger Hoelt.”

From her purse, Nancy took the paper bearing the strange hex symbol. “I’m sure this is a good clue,” she told her father and Hannah. “The prowler at the mansion today might have been Hoelt. He probably returned to get this, but I picked it up first.”

Carson Drew agreed that a trip to the Pennsylvania Dutch area probably would be fruitful. It might also be dangerous. He suggested that Nancy ask her friends Bess and George to join her.

“A great idea!” Nancy exclaimed enthusiastically. “I’ll call them right away!”

Bess and George, who were cousins, were eager to make the trip and soon received their parents’ permission. When the plans were settled, Nancy helped Hannah with the dishes.

“Where’s Togo?” she asked, missing her frisky terrier, usually underfoot at dinnertime.

“Oh, I let him out for a run just before you came home,” Hannah replied. “But you’d better see what’s happened to him.”

Nancy went to the backyard and whistled. When the dog did not respond, she began to worry. She walked to the front of the house and whistled.

As she waited, she observed a car that had driven slowly by the Drews’ home was not turning the corner. Instead, the driver made a U-turn and the vehicle came back down the street.

At this moment, there was a joyous bark, and Togo raced from the backyard of the house opposite Nancy’s. Eager to greet his young mistress, the little dog dashed across the street.

“Oh!” Nancy gasped, as the driver of the car, almost upon the dog, put on a burst of speed, and headed directly for Togo.

Before Nancy could act, the car hit the terrier and the dog gave a yelp of paint

“Togo!” Nancy cried, running to her pet as the car flashed past. The animal was whining and yelping pitifully. Nancy feared that he had been seriously injured.

Leaning over to examine the dog, she noticed a long cut on his hip, but there were no other marks. Just then Togo stood up, shook himself and licked her hand. The beloved pet would be all right!

Nancy carried the dog inside and bathed his cut with antiseptic. “That driver deliberately tried to kill Togo!” she told Hannah. “I was so frightened that I forgot to look at him or his license number.”

Hannah frowned. “Nancy, perhaps that hex symbol means business,” she declared.

“Oh, Hannah, people today don’t believe in hexes or witches or spells.” Nancy smiled. “And the hex signs that were once used to ward off witches are now decorations on barns and other places. Some people even use them inside their homes.”

“Maybe, but I think you should give up the trip,” Hannah persisted. “Let the police worry about the robbery. You stay home.”

“Why, Hannah, I couldn’t do that when I’ve promised to help Mrs. Tenney,” Nancy protested. “Besides, I want a chance to practice my German in Pennsylvania Dutch country!” She smiled.

Mr. Drew, who had been talking on the second-floor telephone, now joined them. He was relieved to learn that Togo was all right.

Hannah told him she was worried about Nancy, but the lawyer did not share her point of view.

“As to the hex business, we are intelligent people and don’t believe in witchcraft. If Nancy is careful, I think it will be safe for her to make the trip.”

The young detective was preparing to leave the next morning when a special delivery letter arrived for her.

“Trouble,” Hannah Gruen predicted gloomily.

The envelope was postmarked Montville, a town about twenty miles from River Heights. Nancy quickly tore open the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. On it was the strange hex symbol. Underneath the witch tree was a boldly printed warning: STAY HOME!

CHAPTER III

Chust for Pretty

NANCY was excited but not alarmed. If the letter was from the thief, he knew she was going to Pennsylvania Dutch country. Montville was en route to Lancaster. She hoped this meant that she had correctly figured his destination.

“I’m not frightened by this note,” Nancy said when Hannah again urged her to stay home. She kissed the housekeeper good-by and drove off in her convertible.

In a few minutes she reached the home of pretty, blond, blue-eyed Bess Marvin. She was eager to begin the trip.

“Pennsylvania Dutch cooking is famous!” she exclaimed. “What meals we’ll have!”

Trim, dark-haired George Fayne, who lived nearby, climbed into the car soon afterward. “Grand day, isn’t it?” she said with gusto. “August weather’s great for a vacation.”

“And perfect weather for solving a mystery.” Nancy laughed.

“Tell us about it,” Bess begged. “I hope it’s not a dangerous one,” she added.

As they rode along, Nancy told the story. Bess became concerned. She shivered when she heard of the hex symbol. “Do you believe in it?” she asked.

Nancy assured her she did not. “But,” she declared, “I understand there are some people in the back country of Pennsylvania who still think, it’s possible to hex people.”

Several hours later, the girls began to notice hex signs on the barns they passed. Even Bess had to admit that the various circular designs, using birds, stars, and crosses, were very colorful and attractive. Seeing a farmer coming from a large red barn, Nancy stopped the car. After chatting a moment, she asked him about the designs’ true significance.

The burly man smiled and replied, “It’s
chust
for pretty.”

“It’s not part of a superstition?” Bess asked.

The man shook his head. “No. Chust to make pretty the barn. But some folks think it is to chase witches. That is foolish, ain’t?”

The girls nodded, thanked him, and drove on.

George laughed. “He had a quaint way of speaking. We may have some trouble understanding what people say in these parts.”

Nancy agreed. “And if we don’t understand, I think we’d better tell the speaker.”

As the girls rode through methodically planned, beautiful farm country, they saw straight green fields of corn, as well as potatoes and tobacco. Weedless vegetable gardens were surrounded by neat borders of flowers—cockscomb, begonia, and geranium bloomed in profusion.

“Where is Mr. Alpha Zinn’s home?” George asked.

“Beyond Lancaster, in the part where the Amish live.”

“Tell us more about them,” Bess requested.

BOOK: The Witch Tree Symbol

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