(#15) The Haunted Bridge (15 page)

Nancy smiled. Her darling father! He did not overlook a thing. She knew he had been in touch with New York detectives asking that they bring the stolen compact with them. Undoubtedly he was now awaiting their arrival at the airport.

“Everything is moving along, so there’s nothing for me to worry about except this golf match!” Nancy reflected, studying her next shot.

She addressed the ball. While the crowd watched in admiration, Nancy made a beautiful drive which her opponent could not equal. She won the hole, squaring the match.

Betsy Howard, grimly determined not to lose the tournament, wasted no shots on the sixteenth hole, with the result she matched Nancy’s strokes equally. With only two holes to be played, the score still stood even.

As Nancy prepared to make her first shot from the seventeenth tee, Chris sidled up to her. “Miss Drew,” he said timidly, taking a ball from his pocket, “I don’t know if this is the right time to tell you, but see what I found!”

“The ball Jimmy Harlow autographed for me! Thanks a lot!” Nancy cried in delight. “Where was it?”

“Not far from the haunted bridge. It was hidden under some dry leaves. Why don’t you finish the tournament with the autographed ball? It may bring you luck.”

Nancy crossed her fingers and smiled. “I’d like to use it.” Turning to her opponent she requested permission to change balls.

“I have no objection,” Betsy assured her.

Nancy felt confident as she teed up the Jimmy Harlow ball. Had it not led her straight to an absorbing mystery? Could it also help her win the silver trophy?

CHAPTER XX

A Day to Remember

NANCY was so intent on her golf game she hardly noticed the pain in her hand. She became oblivious to the crowd and their comments. She was not aware that her excellent shots were forcing Betsy Howard to “press” and make costly errors.

After Nancy putted at the seventeenth green she vaguely heard Chris say, “You’re one up, Miss Drew! Halve this hole and the women’s championship is yours!”

Nancy played the eighteenth in true championship style, every shot straight and true. Betsy, in a desperate attempt to win, had tried too hard. She had sent her ball into a sand trap, costing her an extra point. Nancy’s ball already rested about ten yards from the cup.

After Betsy chipped her ball onto the green, she was eight feet from the hole. Nancy putted her ball with care and confidence. It rolled so swiftly that a little gasp of horror went up from the crowd. Many thought it would end at the far side of the green. But the ball had been tapped accurately and it dropped into the cup.

Betsy Howard stood perfectly still for a moment. Then she putted her own ball, missed, and tried again. This time it dropped, but already the match was lost. She reached out and grasped Nancy’s hand.

“Congratulations, my dear. You played a beautiful game.”

The crowd cheered, and friends rushed forward to praise Nancy. She smiled happily and thanked them. Then she was led in triumph to the hotel and received the handsome silver trophy for the women’s championship.

“We knew you’d do it!” Bess cried gaily. “Oh, Nancy, you were marvelous!”

“Your score today was sixty-nine,” George added proudly. “It sets a new record for women at the Deer Mountain course. And you were the youngest one in the tournament, too!”

Nancy grinned, then whispered, “Will you do me a favor?” George and Bess nodded.

“Please put this trophy in my room. I’d like to get to the cabin before Mrs. Brownell arrives.”

“Margaret decided to leave before you,” Bess told her. “She thought you wouldn’t mind. Your father wanted her to be at the cabin early.”

As Nancy hastened alone toward the woods she could not help reflecting that it was a pity Mrs. Brownell chose to live by dishonest means. She caught herself wondering about the child’s picture in the jeweled compact. Who was she?

Nancy’s thoughts were interrupted as she approached the bridge. Moaning and groaning filled the air, louder than ever, and the scarecrow danced wildly in the wind.

Nancy stopped in the middle of the bridge and gazed up into the tossing treetops, listening carefully. Suddenly she gave a little smile, and with a nod of satisfaction, hurried on.

She made her way quietly along the familiar path to the cabin. Hearing no voices within, she opened the door. Carson Drew sprang to his feet, then laughed in relief as he saw that the caller was his daughter.

“I thought for a moment Mrs. Brownell had caught me napping. Did you win the game?”

“Yes. Did you get the compact?” Nancy asked.

Mr. Drew nodded. “I’ve given it to Margaret Judson. The detectives who brought it are hidden outside with the federal agents. In fact, there are men stationed all along the roads from her hotel. Should Mrs. Brownell decide not to come here or try to flee from us after being accused of the theft, she’ll find every avenue of escape cut off.”

“You’re convinced of her guilt, Dad?”

“Yes. New York authorities now have evidence which I think will convict her. We want Margaret Judson’s positive identification, however.”

The young woman was with Mr. Haley, but at the lawyer’s suggestion she came to the living room and sat down by a window. The others secreted themselves in a closet.

Fifteen minutes elapsed, and both Nancy and her father were growing weary of their cramped quarters. Suddenly they heard Margaret say in an excited undertone:

“Mrs. Brownell is coming now. And Mrs. Cartlett’s with her!”

Margaret opened the cabin door to admit the two women. They glanced about quickly. Then, apparently satisfied that no trap had been set for them, addressed Miss Judson.

“I am in a great hurry,” Mrs. Brownell said. “My friend tells me you have recovered the jeweled compact.”

“I have it here,” Margaret replied, “but I must be certain that it belongs to you.” She handed over the case for her inspection.

“Yes, it’s mine.”

“You’re quite sure?”

“Of course, I am,” Mrs. Brownell retorted impatiently. “See, I’ll show you.” She opened the lid, displaying the picture. “This is a photo of my little girl, only it has been ruined.”

Carson Drew and Nancy emerged from the closet and confronted the two startled women.

“Your identification is very interesting, Mrs. Brownell,” the lawyer said evenly, “for that compact is stolen property.”

“What do you mean?” she gasped, backing away.

“The jeweled case no doubt was given to you by a member of a notorious smuggling ring,” the lawyer said quietly, “as a reward for your past services in selling stolen jewelry for them.”

Mrs. Brownell stared hard at Mr. Drew and knew that his words were no idle bluff. She suddenly darted toward the door. But the lawyer, prepared for such a move, caught her firmly by the wrists. Simultaneously two federal agents appeared in the doorway to block Mrs. Cartlett’s escape.

After Mrs. Brownell had been informed of her constitutional rights, Mr. Drew urged her to tell the truth. “If you turn state’s evidence your prison term probably will be lighter.”

“It’s true—the compact is stolen property,” the accused woman admitted after a long moment of silence. “I didn’t mean to steal nor to have dealings with thieves, but I met a very pleasant man who induced me to help him. At first I thought it was honest work, and I accepted this jeweled compact in payment.

“Later on I was rewarded with other rich presents, including another valuable compact to replace the one I lost. I put another picture of my daughter in it.” She paused before adding, “By the time I suspected the truth there was no retreating. Many times I tried to break away from the gang, but it was impossible.”

“What are the names of these persons with whom you have been dealing?”

Mrs. Brownell’s eyes roved accusingly toward her companion.

“You can’t drag me into this!” the other woman cried out.

Carson Drew looked at her intently. “As soon as I heard Miss Judson’s story and learned your name and where you were staying, I contacted the authorities in New York. Your past record is known. Our case against you is very damaging, even without Mrs. Brownell’s testimony.”

“I will tell everything,” Mrs. Brownell promised, “but only upon one condition.”

“What is that?” the lawyer asked.

“My little daughter must not be involved in this sordid mess. She is attending school in Paris and knows nothing about it. May I please have her picture back?”

“I’ll do my best to keep the knowledge of your arrest from her,” Mr. Drew promised as he handed over the photograph.

“I will gladly make a full confession,” Mrs. Brownell agreed, “without the advice of counsel.”

The woman named all the members of the ring of jewel thieves including Mrs. Cartlett. She agreed to dictate the confession later and sign it.

“One more question,” said Mr. Drew. “Did you burn down the Judson mansion?”

“No, no, I had nothing to do with that! The fire was an accident.”

“But you did visit Miss Judson with the intention of stealing the family jewels?”

“Yes, I deliberately brought up the subject with her, inducing her to open the safe. When she wasn’t looking, I took a valuable necklace, a ruby pin, and a diamond-studded watch. Miss Judson carried the other jewels to her room.”

“What became of the stolen articles?”

“I pawned them and gave part of the money to the gang.”

“Do you still have the tickets?” Margaret Judson asked eagerly.

“Yes, I kept them because the jewels were worth far more than I received from the pawnbroker.”

Margaret Judson was overjoyed to learn that every piece of her missing property would be returned. After federal agents had taken away the two prisoners, she thanked Nancy and Mr. Drew for their kindness.

“In helping you we helped ourselves,” the lawyer replied. “Mrs. Brownell’s confession is the beginning of the end for the ring of thieves.”

“I think we are all rather surprised that Martin Bartescue had nothing to do with jewel smuggling,” Nancy commented.

Her father smiled. “Apparently he’s just a boaster.”

Soon after the departure of the federal agents and the prisoners, Mark Wardell, Bess, George, and the three boys appeared at the cabin. They had remained away because they did not want to hamper the work of the detectives. There was general rejoicing because Margaret Judson had been completely vindicated.

“One angle of the mystery baffles me,” Nancy declared as they all sat grouped about Joe Haley’s bed. “I keep wondering who set up the scarecrow that made the bridge seem haunted.”

Mr. Haley, who had enjoyed listening to the account of the day’s happenings, began to chuckle.

“I did it,” he announced. “Inquisitive young campers kept coming here and causing trouble. They bothered my mountain lion and tramped on my flowers. I thought the scarecrow might help to keep people away.

“It kept dogs away too. They used to attack the figure and bark so loudly that I’d always hear them and drive them off before they could come up here and damage my choice plants.”

“Is that why you ran away from me?” Nancy asked. “Because you didn’t want visitors?”

Mr. Haley nodded. “I didn’t want anybody here, but now I’m glad to have friends like you.”

Burt spoke up. “When Dave and I repaired the bridge, we set a new scarecrow in place. He’ll guard your property for a long time to come.”

“There’s still one more thing to be explained,” Bess declared. “What caused the groaning noise we heard so often?”

“I know the answer.” Nancy smiled. “Wait until we walk over the haunted bridge on our way back to the hotel.” She winked at Mr. Haley and whispered to him. He nodded.

Margaret Judson planned to remain with her former gardener and care for him until he could resume his usual duties. Ned, Burt, and Dave were no longer needed.

Mr. Haley grinned. “Now you’ll be free to enjoy several days of fun before you return home.”

Ned winked at the elderly man. “How long do you think Nancy Drew can just have fun? Only until the next mystery comes along—say in three days?”

Nancy chuckled. “Mysteries are fun too. Be sure all of you are around to help solve the next one.”

Ned’s prediction was almost right. Within a couple of weeks Nancy and her friends found themselves deeply involved in another intriguing case,
The Clue of the Tapping Heels.

As the young people prepared to leave the cabin, Margaret Judson took the girls aside to tell them that she and Mark Wardell planned to be married as soon as Mr. Haley was better, so he could attend.

“Mark and I expect to rebuild the old mansion,” she revealed. “Joe Haley has promised to take care of the property for us, and we hope to reestablish everything just as it was before the fire.”

“Wonderful!” said Nancy, and the other girls echoed her good wishes.

On the way back to the hotel, everyone talked excitedly about the happy outcome of the mystery. When they reached the middle of the footbridge, Nancy called Bess’s attention to two tall trees.

“There’s the cause of the spooky sound we heard so often.”

“I don’t see—” Bess began, then trailed off into silence.

The wind was rocking the treetops, and as two thick boughs rubbed together, the strange moaning and groaning could be heard.

“Nancy, you’re the greatest,” George declared.

No matter how many mysteries Nancy had solved, her friends never ceased to be amazed each time.

Single file, the group trudged across the bridge, a little sorry their adventure had ended. But there was laughter when Nancy, who came last, paused to shake one limp arm of the flapping scarecrow.

“Good-by, old Mr. Ghost!” she addressed him gaily. “A million thanks for spooking me into a very puzzling mystery.”