Mystery at the Ski Jump (11 page)

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Authors: Carolyn Keene

Tags: #Women Detectives, #Detective and Mystery Stories, #Girls & Women, #Mystery & Detective, #Juvenile Fiction, #Adventure and Adventurers, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Fiction, #Fur Garments, #Mystery Fiction, #Women Sleuths, #Adventure Stories, #Hides and Skins, #Swindlers and Swindling, #Drew; Nancy (Fictitious Character), #General, #Identity Theft, #Mystery and Detective Stories

BOOK: Mystery at the Ski Jump
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“I certainly would,” Hannah answered. “And I’m sure your father would too.”
That evening Nancy and Mr. Drew went over to call on John Horn, who had just returned from his ice-fishing trip.
To Nancy’s delight, the trapper verified Chuck Wilson’s story about his ill-tempered uncle. He told of several incidents which had made him suspicious that the elder Wilson was helping himself to certain funds and not making an accounting of them to the Probate Court.
“But I never could prove it,” the trapper said.
“You’ve been very helpful,” the lawyer told him. “And I may call on you to be a witness.”
Before the Drews left, Nancy made her request about the trip. The elderly man’s eyes glistened.
“You couldn’t ’a’ asked me anything I’d ruther do,” he beamed. “But I won’t ride in any of them motor contraptions. No sir-ree. The train for me. And I’ll mush in from the station at York. I was brought up on snowshoes.”
“Your going relieves my mind,” Mr. Drew said, and added with a laugh, “Keep my daughter from making any ski jumps after those thieves, will you?”
John Horn chuckled. “Don’t you worry. I’ll pick up their tracks in the snow and call the police while your daughter’s off gallivantin’ with the young folks.”
Two mornings later the young people began their trip. With skis, poles, snowshoes, and suitcases in their cars, the girls dressed in colorful ski clothes and the boys in Mackinaws and fur caps, their group resembled a polar expedition.
“Too bad that old trapper wouldn’t let us give him a lift,”said Ned as he joined Nancy in the convertible.
“Oh, John Horn’s like that. A mind of his own and very independent.” Nancy laughed. “When I asked him to help find those swindlers, the old fellow became really excited. Patted his hunting rifle and announced that he intended to snare the varmints!”
For the next three hours everything went well for the travelers. The station wagon followed close behind the convertible. Then, as they reached the foothills of the Adirondacks and began to climb, the roads became icy and the drivers were obliged to decrease their speed to a bare crawl.
Nancy frowned. “I’m worried about Aunt Eloise,” she confessed to Ned. “Her train reaches York Village at three-thirty and she’s expecting us to pick her up.”
“York? That’s where we buy the supplies for camp, isn’t it?” Ned asked.
“Yes, I’d hoped to get there in time for us to shop before Aunt Eloise arrives.”
At that moment a series of loud toots behind them caused Nancy to slow down and look around. “Oh dear! Burt’s car has skidded into a ditch!” She groaned. “We’ll have to pull it out.”
It took half an hour and considerable huffing and puffing on everybody’s part to haul the station wagon back onto the road. When it was once more on its way, Burt realized that the steering gear needed attention. He signaled to Nancy and drove forward to tell her they must stop at the first town and have it adjusted.
Nancy nodded. “Suppose Ned and I go ahead and leave the food order at the general store. You pick it up. We’ll drive Aunt Eloise to camp and start a fire.”
Soon the convertible was again on its way. At the store Nancy ordered ham, eggs, slabs of bacon, meat, huge roasting potatoes, bread, fresh fruit, and other necessities.
“Friends of mine will call for the order in a station wagon,” Nancy explained to the proprietor.
“Come on. We’d better hurry,” Ned warned. “I can hear the train pulling in.”
He and Nancy dashed to the station, half expecting to see John Horn alight as well as Eloise Drew. But the trapper was not aboard.
“Hello, Ned!” Miss Drew greeted him, after she embraced her niece. “And where are the rest of my guests?” she inquired.
“They were delayed,” said Nancy. “A little trouble with Burt’s station wagon. We’re to go on ahead.”
“I’m glad we’re starting at once,” Miss Drew observed. “In an hour it will be dark. And that narrow, snowy road leading to my place can be very hazardous.”
Nancy and Ned helped Aunt Eloise into the convertible and they began the long climb to the lodge. The road was indeed deep in snow and Ned had to drive very slowly. All were relieved to see the house.
“Look at that snow!” Aunt Eloise exclaimed. “Why, it’s halfway up the door.”
“Are there any shovels in the garage?” Ned asked as he climbed out of the car.
“Burt’s car has skidded into a ditch!” Nancy cried out
“I think so,” Miss Drew answered.
Ned struggled around the corner of the house to the garage. He came back swinging a shovel and started clearing a path. Soon the station wagon arrived.
“Reinforcements are here,” Dave and Burt announced.
In a few minutes they were carrying in the suitcases. The girls and Aunt Eloise followed, shivering in the huge, icy living room.
“We can soon have some heat,” Aunt Eloise said, taking swift charge of the situation. “Boys, there’s plenty of wood in the shed out back. Suppose you start a roaring fire in the grate.”
“Girls,” said Nancy, “let’s bring in those groceries from the station wagon.”
“Groceries?” Bess gaped.
Nancy’s heart sank. “Bess! George!” she gasped. “Didn’t you remember to stop for the food? Didn’t Burt tell you?”
The blank consternation on her friends’ faces was answer enough.
Tired and hungry, the campers had to face it.
There was no food in the house!
CHAPTER XIV
The Fur Thief
“CHEER UP!” Aunt Eloise encouraged her guests. “The situation isn’t too black. I left a few canned staples in the pantry here. If you don’t object to beans—”
“Beans! Oh, welcome word!” cried Bess, rolling her eyes ecstatically. “I’m ravenous enough to eat tacks.”
“Then you’ll have to earn your supper,” George said firmly. “Get a mop. This place must be cleaned before we eat.”
In the midst of their tidying the cottage a knock came on the door. John Horn walked in. The old fellow looked ruddy and fit after his trek on snowshoes. He explained that he had come up the day before and was camping out in the hills Indian style. When they told him of their predicament about food, he looked amused.
“Shucks, nobody here need go hungry.” He chuckled. “I shot some rabbits on the way. I’ll bring ’em in and give you folks a real treat!”
After consuming the nourishing beans and John Horn’s delicious rabbit, cooked on a spit in the fireplace, everyone felt satisfied and content. Then, gathering around him, Aunt Eloise and her guests listened for two hours to the old trapper’s yarns. Later, when Nancy asked him if he had found out anything about Dunstan Lake, he shook his head.
“Nope. Nobody I met ever heard of the man, Nancy. Nor of that Forest Fur Company, either. But they say there’s three mink ranches around here owned by outside folks.”
Suddenly Eloise Drew snapped her fingers. “I just recalled that I heard the name Dunstan Lake twice. The second time was last summer at the Longview Inn five miles from here. I was leaving the dining room when I overheard a woman mention the name.”
“Maybe it’s another clue,” Nancy spoke up. “I think I’ll go over there right after breakfast tomorrow and speak to the manager. I’d like to hike over. Could I make it on snowshoes, Mr. Horn?”
“Oh, sure—that is, if you got good muscles, and you look as if you do. Well, folks,” the trapper said, rising, “I’ll be on my way.”
He would not accept a bunk with the boys and went off whistling in the darkness. The house-party guests rolled wearily into bed and slept soundly.
Next morning the prospect of a second meal of beans for breakfast had little appeal for the campers. At Nancy’s suggestion the young people tramped down to the frozen lake, resolved to try some ice fishing.
The boys hacked a hole in the ice fifty feet from shore and carefully lowered several lines with baited hooks. But although they waited patiently, there was not a bite.
“I guess we’ll eat beans—and like it,” George groaned.
“Hal-loo there! What you doin’? Lookin’ for a walrus?” called a voice from the shore.
They turned to see John Horn standing there with a heavy pack on his back. The old trapper explained that he had risen before daylight and gone down to York Village.
“I brought back your grub.” He grinned. “Wanta eat?”
“Do we!” cried Burt, dropping the line he was holding. “I’ll swap an uncaught fish for a stack of hotcakes any day!”
The others echoed his sentiments as they rushed to join the trapper and relieve him of the food.
Directly after breakfast Nancy and Ned fastened snowshoes to their hiking boots and set out for Longview Inn. The snow was crisp and just hard enough for firm going. Shortly before noon they arrived at the entrance to the big resort hotel.
“What a grand spot for winter sports!” Nancy exclaimed. She gazed admiringly at the high ski jump and the numerous ski trails and toboggan slides.
“Sure is.” Ned nodded. “I wish we had time to try ’em. But I suppose you want to find out about Dunstan Lake. Well, where do we begin our investigations?”
“Pardon me. But would you two be interested in purchasing tickets to our charity contest?” a strange voice inquired.
The couple looked around to face a smiling elderly woman. She went on to explain that the tickets were for a skiing party the next afternoon, to be followed by a trapper’s dinner at the inn.
Ned was just about to say that they could not make it, when Nancy surprised him by telling the woman they would take seven tickets! Ned dug into his pocket for the money.
But as they entered the hotel, he asked, “Nancy, why did you do that?”
“Sorry, Ned, I’ll pay for the tickets.”
“That’s all right, Nancy, but maybe the crowd won’t want to go.”
“I was thinking of Mitzi Channing,” Nancy said. “If she’s in the neighborhood, she might show up.”
“You’re right. Well, let’s call on the manager.”
Mr. Pike had been with the inn for five years, but he had never heard of a Dunstan Lake, nor anyone named Channing. He promised, however, to make inquiries among the guests and to let Nancy know.
When they left the hotel, Ned said eagerly, “Let’s go over and look at that Olympic ski jump.”
The jump was truly spectacular and near the base of it was a skating pond. At the edge of the ice stood two mammoth figures which had been carved out of snow.
“Aren’t they wonderful!” Nancy cried out. As she and Ned stood staring at the snow giants, Nancy felt a hand on her arm.
“Nancy Drew—this
is
a surprise!” said a familiar voice.
“Why, Chuck Wilson!” Nancy gasped. “What are you doing here?”
“Pinch-hitting as a ski instructor.” Chuck grinned. “The regular pro has a broken leg. And now tell me what you’re doing here.”
Nancy introduced the two young men, then told Chuck about the house party at her aunt’s camp.
“Oh, Chuck, I have a grand surprise for you!” she added. “Guess what! John Horn’s here!”
“Here!” The skier looked incredulous. “At your camp? I’ll be right over!”
Ned looked none too pleased at this suggestion. “John’s not staying with us,” he said.
Ned lost his glum look, however, when Chuck insisted upon lending the couple skis, boots and poles, and suggested that they take a few runs. For the next half hour Ned and Nancy enjoyed themselves on the ski slopes.
“Nancy, your skiing has certainly improved,” Ned said, smiling.
“The credit for that goes to Chuck.”
Below them, Chuck Wilson waved his hand. “Hey, why don’t you try jumping off that mogul?” he called.
“I’m game,” Nancy cried, pushing off, after leaving her poles against a tree. “Come on, Ned!”
Nancy went first, taking off beautifully from the top of the huge bump. Ned followed but his was by far the higher and the longer jump.
“Well, at least I didn’t spill.” Nancy laughed as they pulled up alongside the ski instructor. “And now I think we’d better start back to camp.”
“Nancy, I’ll see you again soon, won’t I?” Chuck pleaded.
“We’re all coming over here tomorrow,” she promised. Then, with a teasing glance at Ned, she added, “But there’s no reason why we can’t see more of each other today. Ned and I haven’t had lunch, so why don’t you join us in the dining room?”
“Thanks, I will. But let’s go downstairs to the snack corner.”
Nancy and Ned returned the borrowed equipment, and Chuck checked his skis and poles at the long rack outside the beam-ceilinged room, which was crowded with skiing enthusiasts.
Their appetites whetted by a morning in the crisp mountain air, the trio ate heartily. When they finished, Ned and Nancy insisted they must leave, instead of joining the group which lingered by the fireplace discussing slalom and downhill racing.
Outside, as they were fastening on their snowshoes for the long hike back to camp, Nancy turned to Chuck. “By the way, do you know of any mink ranches around here?”

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