Nancy Clue Mysteries 3 - A Ghost in the Closet (18 page)

Nancy shivered as she gingerly made her way through the dark, damp cave with no light source to make out the pits, sharp drops, or protrusions that could spell instant injury to a girl without proper head protection. Frank could be lying on the ground in pain! As an avid spelunker, Nancy knew that while most accidents happened in the home, a cave was the second-most likely place for an accident.

"What's that?" she gasped as something flew above her hairdo. "It must be a bat," she told herself. Nancy was levelheaded enough to know that, despite their reputation, bats seldom flew near enough to cave explorers to become entangled in their coiffures. She knew their keen echolocation perception enabled them to avoid all obstacles, even in total darkness.

"Frank," she called again. "Frank Hardly, where are you?" She was mighty relieved, yet somewhat alarmed, to hear a boyish groan as she almost stepped on the limp figure of her friend lying next to a stalactite.

"Oh, Frank, are you all right?" Nancy cried as she felt in her pocket book for her wallet-sized firstaid kit containing bandages and an aspirin.

"I'm fine," Frank said curtly as he brushed aside her attempts to help him up. He stumbled ahead in the darkness, then cried, "Oops!" as he tripped over a rock and fell, ripping the knees of his new sporty twill slacks. The lad sat in the dark cave and put his head in his hands. Hot tears raced down his handsome face. He tried to sniff quietly, but in the hollow cave, all sounds were magnified.

"Frank, are you upset?" Nancy asked softly as she took a fresh hankie from her pocket and thrust it at the boy, inadvertently smacking him in the head. "Sorry," she added when she realized what she had done.

"I'm fine," Frank insisted flatly. "Everything's just peachy."

Nancy sighed. She had known Frank long enough to know when he wasn't telling the whole truth. "I know you're worried about your parents having been kidnapped by Russian agents-who wouldn't be-but I suspect there's something else bothering you. Frank, are you upset about your father being a girl?"

"Of course not," Frank snapped. "I'm just busy thinking about our peculiar situation. If we're going to explore this cave safely, we'll need to shimmy back up to the cottage and drive to Feyport for the Hardly Boys Cave Exploring Kit. We'll need hardhats, miner's lights and lug-soled boots."

"We haven't time," Nancy insisted. "Precious minutes are ticking away." Besides, she could just picture the scene upstairs. "This little episode should tug on the nervous nurse's heartstrings for sure!" she thought with a secret smile. "Won't Cherry be impressed if I return with the clue that cracks this case wide open?"

"I'm not going back until we find something," Nancy proclaimed hotly. "Remember what your father's clue said? All is not what it seems underneath Lake Merrimen. Well, we're on the right track!"

"All right," Frank conceded. "But I still think it's sheer folly to traverse a cave without the proper equipment."

"Let's see what I've got in here," Nancy said as she plunged her hands in her purse. "I've got chocolate bars, a thermos of coffee and a sack of oranges," she reported.

Frank dug through his pockets and came up with a disappointing array of insignificant items. "A comb, my wallet and a piece of flint," he said dejectedly. "I can strike the flint against the wall and make a spark, but what are we going to light?"

"I've got a can of hair spray," Nancy realized.

"I'm sure your hair looks fine," Frank sighed.

"I don't doubt that," Nancy chuckled. "The point is, hair lacquer is made of flammable material, and if we can rig up a way to control the pressure flow, we can make a nifty torch." Moments later, the clever girl, with just a bobby pin and her own keen know-how, constructed a crude torch that would provide them with enough light to safely see their way about the dark cavern.

Frank was properly chagrined. "You don't have two hard hats in that purse of yours, do you?" he grinned.

"No, but I've got two thick cotton pads with strap-like tails at each end," Nancy showed him. "We can put the pads on our heads and loop the ends over our ears and at least have one layer of protection from unexpected bumps."

"What a clever device," Frank cried, making a mental note to add them to the Hardly Boys Cave Exploring Kit.

Nancy held the torch while Frank fastened the pad to his head. She then followed suit. "Nancy, you're top drawer!" Frank declared.

"Tell that to Cherry," Nancy grinned back. It felt good to be hard at work again, using just her wholesome good sense and the contents of her purse to figure her way out of a jam. "If only Cherry could be here to see us!" she thought ruefully as they made their way through the cave.

"This must be one of the secret caves old Miss Witherspoon was always talking about," Frank realized.

The two old chums raced through the dark cave, hoping there would be sufficient fuel in their torch for a thorough investigation. They gazed in wonder as they descended ever deeper into a subterranean world that had been right under their noses all along.

"Look, Frank!" Nancy cried. "There's a tunnel that branches off ahead." Keenly disappointed, they found the tunnel blocked by boulders. "There must have been an underground avalanche," Nancy guessed.

A queer look came over Frank's face as he examined the area. "One caused by dynamite!" he cried. "This filament is identical to the brand I found in our den!"

"Can we break through?" Nancy asked hopefully.

"We'll need ten Willies," Frank sighed. "I'm afraid this passageway is blocked for good!

"Why would Father send us to this dead end?" Frank cried.

"Maybe it wasn't a dead end when your Father drew that map," Nancy suggested. "Let's hurry and see what else we can find down here quick, before I run out of hair spray," she urged.

Soon the unmistakable sound of water lapping against rock caught their attention. They reached a shallow drop and found themselves staring straight down into the placid water of Lake Merrimen. Frank checked his combination wristwatch and compass. "We're directly under our dock," he announced. "Want to go back or swim for it?"

"Swim for it," was Nancy's quick reply. "I've got a bathing costume in my purse." She slipped behind a rock to change, and soon the two were poised to make their leap into the watery, pitchblack pit.

"I'm awfully sorry things haven't worked out the way we planned," Frank said sadly as he took several deep breaths, getting his lungs ready for their underwater swim.

"It's not your fault your parents were kidnapped," Nancy pointed out. "Besides, if I crack this case, I may still win Cherry's adoration." She made the international Good Luck sign and plunged into the cold water.

Frank followed close behind. The water seeped through his clothes and quickly chilled the lad, but what really chilled Frank were the horrible thoughts swirling in his head-terrible ideas he hadn't been able to shake since hearing Uncle Nelly's shocking announcement.

If he wasn't the son of world-famous detective Fennel P. Hardly and his wife Mrs. Hardly, whose son was he?

"But I am a Hardly boy!" he told himself, over and over. "And Fennel P. Hardly's my dad-the best dad a guy ever had!" But deep down, he knew that it couldn't be true. They had covered human reproduction in health class and something just didn't seem right.

"I can't possibly be Fennel's son!" Frank realized in true and utter anguish. "I'm not really a Hardly boy!" -

CHAPTER 28

What Luck!

"I don't know how you kids stand the suspense of detective work. Why, I can barely attend an auction without fainting in anticipation during the bidding," Uncle Nelly admitted as he paced up and down the living room all atwitter, practically wearing a path in the antique Turkish rug. "Oh dear, oh dear," he fretted whilst wringing his hands together. "What if Frank and Nancy are lying in a heap, all broken and bruised?" he wailed.

"Uncle, you know Nancy and Frank are seasoned detectives," Joe consoled the nervous Nelly. "Why, they've been through far worse than this and always return victorious with nary a hair out of place."

Still Nelly couldn't rest. "If anything should happen to either one of you boys, your father would never forgive me. Why, you're the apples of his eye!"

"Nelson, why not sit down and have a hot soothing drink?" Willy urged as he came into the room with a tray of nourishing snacks and steaming hot coffee. He had busied himself in the kitchen making a selection of sandwiches in case the errant detectives required sustenance after their underground ordeal. "And I've brought a plate of your favorite anise cookies," Willy tempted his touchy chum.

"I couldn't possibly eat a thing," Uncle Nelly protested. "Well, maybe just one," he murmured, adding, "This may be a long night; I'd best keep up my strength." Uncle Nelly took a cookie from the plate and nervously nibbled at it. "Drat!" he exclaimed as he dropped some crumbs on the carpet. He raced to the kitchen and returned with a small whisk broom and a dustpan.

"While I'm at it, I might as well get to these dirty windows." He took a bottle of window-cleaning solution and a clean cotton rag from his pocket and feverishly attacked the front pic ture-glass. "Oh, dear, I liked this fabric when I picked it out, but now I think it looks all wrong in this room," he bemoaned as he glared at the chintz drapes. "Will, do you think we need new curtains?" he cried.

"It's up to you, dear," Willy said. "Your uncle always redecorates when he's upset," he added in an aside to Joe. It was best, Willy knew, to keep out of Nelly's way in times like these. "How's your ladder coming along, Joe?" Willy asked, eager to lend the lad a hand. As an ex-merchant marine, Willy knew practically all there was to know about hitches, knots, slings, splices and lashings. He carefully checked Joe's work and found it to his liking. "This will hold you for sure," he said approvingly as he examined Joe's handiwork. Joe was turning out to be a lad after his own heart!

While Joe anchored the ladder with an anvil, Jackie slipped on a knapsack containing food, medical supplies and extra flashlight batteries. They had called down to Frank and Nancy but received no response, so Jackie and Joe were going down after them.

"You'll need a warm, sensible sweater," Cherry reminded Jackie softly. If truth be told, she was a little nervous about Jackie going down the hole. Cherry swallowed her fear. "Jackie's a professional, and if I'm contemplating being her girlfriend, I'd better get used to a life of danger!" she realized.

Jackie gave Cherry a wink that told her everything would be okay.

"I've got a thick, warm sweater sure to fit your broad shoulders," Willy offered. "And one for you, too, Joe. I'll be right back." He raced upstairs to his wardrobe. Luckily he had packed a soft gray cardigan that would look awfully nice on Jackie, and a red v-neck pullover that would bring out the cherries in Joe's cheeks.

"Oh dear, oh dear," Uncle Nelly fretted as he examined the hole in the closet floor. "We're going to have to redo this entire area." He took his reading glasses from his shirt pocket and studied the inside of the closet. "This wallpaper appears worse every time I look at it," he shuddered.

He aimed his nozzle at the wall and squirted. As he scrubbed, faint blue lines began to appear. He stopped when he realized his efforts were only turning the scrawls a darker shade of blue.

Uncle Nelly scratched his head and murmured, "How queer! I swear this drawing wasn't here a minute ago! We'll just have to paper over it," he sighed. "Although it's beyond me why anyone would draw on our closet wall."

His uncle's observation struck a chord in Joe.

"Oh, Uncle, stop at once!" Joe cried. "That sounds like invisible ink! You might have found the secret map we've been searching for." He raced into the closet and whipped out his magnifying glass. It was a map, and it was in his father's distinctive, neat hand.

"Your father must have drawn this before Mother had this old closet boarded up," Uncle Nelly guessed excitedly.

Joe made long rips in the wallpaper with his knife and peeled the map from the wall. "This appears to be a topographical map of a lake and a nearby resort town-why, it must be Lake Merrimen!" he gasped after a moment's inspection. "See?" he showed the others. "The kidney shape in the middle is the lake; here's the main drive into town; these squares represent lakefront homes-and the one with the X must be our charming cottage," Joe guessed.

"But I don't understand the sense of scale," Joe mused, "The River Depths Sanitarium is practically in our backyard and it's actually three miles northwest of here. Plus there are roads connecting the lake, the sanitarium, and our cottage where none exist."

"Those triangular shapes could be either hills or caves," Jackie suggested.

"Could they be the legendary underground caverns of Lake Merrimen?" Joe hooted with excitement.

"Is there a map of Illinois handy?" Jackie wondered out loud. "We'll compare the two for scale and come up with a reasonable facsimile of the area."

"I'll get one from Nancy's car," Cherry volunteered. She flung open the front door but froze as she spied frightful shapes in the dim light of the moonlit porch.