(#39) The Clue of the Dancing Puppet (2 page)

“Let’s cook the roast that’s in the refrigerator,” Nancy suggested. “And have strawberry shortcake for dessert with all the trimmings. Oh, I forgot. Bess is dieting. We’d better change that to apple snow pudding with thin custard sauce.”

Nancy offered to set the table and had just finished when the bell rang. Bess and George arrived together. George literally dragged Nancy into the living room.

“Out with it! Something important’s brewing!” she exclaimed.

Nancy laughed, then told the story of the mysterious dancing puppet. George frowned, puzzled. Bess drew in a deep breath. She gave a mock shiver, then burst out:

“How divine! Imagine living in the same house with a real actor and actress!”

“And a supernatural one,” George reminded her cousin.

“But Nancy didn’t say the dancing puppet came into the house,” Bess argued.

“The puppet may enter any time. She’s already been in the theater,” George teased.

Nancy interrupted to ask, “Can you girls come with me? I promised to let Mr. Spencer know tonight.”

“Of course.”

“You bet.”

At once, Nancy called the actor, who was delighted. “We’ll expect you tomorrow afternoon,” he told her. “Margo and I don’t brunch until one. We’re late sleepers on account of the night shows.”

When Nancy returned, she told George about the plan to have them join the Footlighters.

“Wonderful!” Bess exclaimed. “You’ll love it. And, Nancy, you’ll get a part right away. You often had the lead in the school plays.”

“No, thanks. I’m going to the estate to do some detective work. I’ll sign up to help paint scenery.”

George grinned. “I couldn’t recite a nursery rhyme. Put me down for odd jobs like scene shifting—my muscles are hard!”

Bess went to the phone and called Janet Wood, the secretary of the Footlighters’ membership committee. “There’s to be a meeting tonight,” said Janet, who was a good friend of Bess’s. “I’ll bring the application blanks to Nancy’s house and wait while they fill them out. Then I’ll hand the cards over to the committee tonight to be voted on. But Nancy and George will get in. Don’t worry.”

Janet Wood arrived in half an hour. Nancy and George filled out the cards, and Bess and Janet acted as sponsors. “I’m thrilled that you’re joining,” said Janet, as she was leaving. “I’ll call you tonight after the meeting.”

True to her promise, Janet phoned Bess at Nancy’s house soon after ten. The one-sided conversation lasted a long while. Finally Bess returned to the living room.

“You’ll get formal notices in the mail,” she said without enthusiasm. “But you’re in.”

George snorted. “You seem about as happy over it as an actress who didn’t pass her screen test.”

“I’m puzzled,” Bess admitted. “Since you’re new members, perhaps I shouldn’t tell you. But because you’re also detectives, I will.”

Bess revealed that the membership committee, including the president and Janet, consisted of seven men and women. One of them, Tammi Whitlock, had spoken very forcefully against admitting Nancy and George.

“You don’t know Tammi. She’s rather new here in River Heights,” Bess explained. “Been here about six months. Tammi came from California and is living in town with an aunt. She’s our leading lady at the moment, and I must say she’s an excellent actress.”

“But why would she vote against
us?”
George queried. “I could see where she might not want any competition in the acting line, and she may have heard about Nancy’s ability from the others. But of course Nancy didn’t sign up for that. So why the big objection from Tammi?”

Nancy had no comment other than to say she was eager to meet Tammi Whitlock and find out the reason for her objections, if possible.

“There’s a performance tomorrow night,” Bess said. “We have only four a week. You can meet Tammi after the show. Well, let’s get home, George. Shall we be ready to start about three o’clock tomorrow, Nancy? And will you pick us up in your convertible?”

“Sure thing,” Nancy promised, as she saw her friends to the door.

Promptly at three o’clock the next day, Nancy picked up the girls, and Bess directed her along one of the tree-shaded roads on the outskirts of River Heights. Several old houses, set well back from the road, could be glimpsed through the heavy growth of trees and shrubbery.

“Next driveway on your left,” Bess said presently.

At the entrance an artistic wooden plaque hanging from a tree announced:

THE FOOTLIGHTERS

The long, tree-lined driveway curved to the right, then to the left. Ahead, beyond a wide lawn, stood a large white three-story house of the early nineteen hundred period. The windows on the main floor were long, narrow, and shuttered. On the second floor, there were many bays and dormers, each with a carved arch above it.

Nancy parked near the front porch, which extended across the front of the house, and the girls carried their bags into the wide center hall. Mr. Spencer, smiling broadly, came down the stairs and was introduced to George.

“Mighty glad you’re here,” he said in welcome. “My wife is out, and I have to run over to the theater immediately. But I’ll show you to your rooms first.”

He took Nancy’s bag, telling the other girls he would come back for theirs. The steep stairway led to a long hallway on the second floor, with bedrooms on each side and a rear stairway down to the kitchen.

“Margo and I have the front room,” Mr. Spencer said. “You girls will have this one, which also faces the front, and the one opposite, which overlooks the rear gardens. This door”—he pointed to a third door in the center of the hall—“hides a stairway to the attic. I’ve never been up there”—his eyes twinkled—“but, Nancy, I’m sure that’s one place you’ll want to investigate.”

“There’s one more door—at the end of the hall near the kitchen stairway,” George remarked. “Is that where your friend sleeps?”

“Yes. Emmet Calhoun is over at the theater right now. Well, make yourselves at home, girls. See you later.” He left them.

Nancy chose the rear bedroom, which gave her a good view of the playhouse. It was a large red barn with a smaller wing. To one side of the building was a wide parking area.

The girls began to unpack their belongings. In a few minutes Nancy was settled. “I’m going to follow Mr. Spencer’s hint and take a peek at the attic,” she said to the others. She walked to the door, opened it, and ascended the steps.

In the cousins’ room, Bess giggled. “Nancy just can’t wait to get started on her mystery. I’d like to have a little fun first.”

“Like doing what—playing hide-and-seek in the haymow?” George scoffed.

At this moment the girls heard a loud thump in the attic. It was followed immediately by a second one. Bess and George ran to the attic stairway.

“Nancy! Are you all right?” they called anxiously.

There was no answer.

CHAPTER II

A Startling Call

“SOMETHING has happened to Nancy!” Bess exclaimed fearfully.

George was already racing up the attic stairway. “I’m afraid so,” she muttered.

With Bess at her heels, George reached the large, cluttered attic. Three small windows, dusty and full of cobwebs, let in just enough light for the girls to see Nancy lying unconscious on the floor. They rushed to her side.

“Oh, Nancy!” Bess wailed.

George, who was more practical-minded, felt Nancy’s pulse. “It’s strong,” she reported. “This is a temporary blackout. Nancy must have hit her head.”

Both girls looked around. Nearby lay a doll’s trunk. It was upside down and spread open. Directly above it was a wide beam.

“Maybe this trunk fell off the beam and hit Nancy,” Bess suggested.

“It doesn’t look heavy enough to knock anyone out,” George replied. “Bess, run downstairs and get some cold water and a towel.”

Bess hastened off on the first-aid errand and soon returned with the water. George bathed Nancy’s forehead with the wet towel. In a few seconds the young detective opened her eyes.

“Thank goodness you’re all right,” Bess said. “Do you know what hit you?”

“N-no,” Nancy answered weakly. “Whatever it was hit me from the back.”

George, sure that something heavier than the doll trunk had injured Nancy, was searching the attic floor. Not far from where her friend lay, she made a discovery.

“Look!” she exclaimed. “A cannon ball! I guess this is what did it,” she went on thoughtfully. “It’s not covered with dust like everything else up here, so it must have been inside the trunk.”

Nancy sat up and smiled wryly. “I guess I’m lucky it only hit me a glancing blow.”

George was angry. “Whoever put a cannon ball in a doll’s trunk must have been crazy!”

Before she had time to go on with her tirade, the girls were startled to hear the stairs creak.

“Sh-h,” Nancy warned in a whisper. “Let’s see who’s coming up.”

To their astonishment no one appeared. “Someone was eavesdropping,” Nancy said.

She rose and hurried to the stairway. Seeing no one, she descended quickly, with Bess and George following. Nobody was in sight on the second floor.

“Bess, run down the front stairway and find out if anyone is around,” George ordered. “I’ll take the back stairs. Nancy,
you’d
better take it easy.”

Nancy needed no second urging. She was feeling very dizzy and went to lie down on her bed. Bess and George returned in a few minutes to report that no one seemed to be in the house.

“Old houses are sometimes squeaky,” George remarked. “Maybe no one was on the stairs after all.”

At this moment she looked at Nancy, who was very white. Worried, George recommended that they call a doctor. Nancy tried to protest, but was overruled.

“Where’s the phone?” George asked Bess.

“I don’t know,” Bess said. “Anyway, I think I should go and get Mr. and Mrs. Spencer.”

She hurried off and in a few minutes returned with the couple. Margo Spencer, about forty years old, blond, and attractive, was extremely concerned about what had happened. She agreed that the Drews’ family physician should be called.

“Our phone is on a table in the lower hall,” she said. “I guess you didn’t notice it because I always keep a large bouquet of flowers there.”

George put in the call, then returned to the second floor. As she started down the hall, a man came up the rear stairway. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and had thick, curly, graying hair. His eyes were deep-set and penetrating.

As he walked past Nancy’s bedroom, Mr. Spencer called, “Hi, Cally old boy!” He turned to the three girls. “I’d like you to meet my friend Emmet Calhoun. Cally old boy is a Shakespearean actor. Right now he’s looking for another show. Meanwhile, he’s helping us coach.” He gave Mr. Calhoun the details of Nancy’s accident.

“Most unfortunate!” the actor said dramatically. “Those beautiful eyes—they might have been closed forever!” Striking a dramatic pose, Cally old boy began to quote a Shakespearean verse:

“ ‘From women’s eyes this doctrine I derive:

They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;

They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain, and nourish all the world.’”

“Thank you,” said Nancy, smiling.

Bess’s eyes sparkled. “That’s from
Love’s Labour’s Lost,
isn’t it?” she asked.

Mr. Calhoun beamed. “Yes, it is, my dear. It is regrettable that most young people cannot quote from the Bard. We can learn so much from Shakespeare.”

Mrs. Spencer took the actor by the arm and went with him to the door. “Come, Cally,” she said. “Let’s leave the girls alone. Nancy should rest.”

The girls were a bit amused at her diplomacy. They saw at once that Cally old boy might easily become a bore!

“Here comes the doctor,” Bess said presently. She was glancing out the window at the parking lot.

Doctor Black examined Nancy’s head thoroughly, then said she would be all right in a few hours. “You are to eat nothing but broth and crackers, and rest for five or six hours,” the doctor said sternly.

Bess went to the kitchen, found some concentrated bouillon, and arranged Nancy’s prescribed diet on a small tray. Soon after eating the soup, Nancy fell asleep.

About ten o’clock that evening she awakened completely refreshed. Finding Bess and George in their room, she announced she would like to go over to the playhouse to see the rest of the show.

Bess and George agreed, but paused to comb their hair first. Nancy waited a moment for them, then started ahead down the front stairway. As she reached the first floor, the phone rang.

“I’m the dancing puppet! Go away!” the caller
cackled in a witchlike tone

“I’ll answer it,” she thought, and went over to the hall table.

“Hello?” she said, just as Bess and George walked up to her.