Across the hall from the kitchen, Mrs. Coming opened a door and flicked a wall switch. The room remained dark, but at the far side a tall glass cabinet lighted up.
Bess gasped. “Oh, how beautiful!” She and the others stared, amazed. Inside was a sparkling array of crystal flowers and butterflies set on shelves lined with black velvet.
“My husband gave me one of each on our wedding anniversaries,” Mrs. Corning explained as she led them to the case. “They are made in France. Every flower contains at least one valuable jewel.”
Nancy noted a ruby glowing in the heart of a rose and a topaz set in a daffodil. The butterflies had diamonds for eyes.
“How could the thieves have heard about these?” George asked.
“My crystal garden was written up in a magazine some time ago,” Mrs. Corning replied.
Nancy examined the case carefully. “Do you have a key for this?”
Mrs. Corning showed her a tiny gold one which she wore on a chain around her neck.
Just then the doctor arrived. He listened to the story of what had happened, then went to check on Morgan, who was much better.
When leaving, Dr. Bennett called back through the open door for the benefit of any outside listener. “Miss Drew must remain in bed for at least forty-eight hours.”
Ned followed the doctor and went to join Mr. Corning. Inside the house Nancy said to her friends, “Dr. Bennett played his part well.” Then she told them her plans for the next day.
Half an hour later Mr. Corning and Ned reported no prowler near Morgan’s window. Ned said good night and returned to Camp Hiawatha.
Shortly before dawn, Nancy ate a light breakfast, then slipped into the garage and hid behind the front seat of her car. At eight o’clock the other girls came out with a packet of sandwiches. George took the wheel and they drove off.
When she was sure they were not being followed, George pulled to the side of the road and Nancy took the driver’s seat.
“Now for the larkspur house!” she said happily.
“But where is it?” Bess asked.
Nancy said that since the Tooker estate lay southeast of River Heights and the pigeon and airplane both flew over it, the other headquarters were probably to the northwest.
“I’ll try that, anyway.”
After a while the road narrowed and there were no houses to be seen. The countryside was generously sprinkled with patches of woodland and open fields.
The girls explored every side road. Most of these were merely lumber trails which ended within a short distance. At other times the searchers found a cabin and inquired if there was a sanatorium in the neighborhood. The answer was always No, and again Nancy would go on.
Stopping only to eat their sandwiches, the girls rode all day, exploring the network of winding lanes. All three were tired, their nerves tense with the strain of being constantly on the alert.
Finally Nancy glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Ten minutes past five,” she said. “We’d better go back.”
Nancy turned the car and began retracing the route to the main highway. Suddenly she pressed down on the brake and they stopped short.
“Sorry,” Nancy said, “but we just passed a sign that I didn’t see when we drove along here before.”
She backed a dozen feet and halted opposite a narrow dirt road. Nailed to a tree was a crude, hand-lettered board: L. S. LANE.
“What about it?” Bess asked. “That probably leads to the cabin of a lumberman whose name is L. S. Lane.”
“And on the other hand,” said Nancy, “it could mean Larkspur Lane, and be a guide for the crooks.”
“It’s worth investigating,” George remarked.
Nancy turned into the narrow roadway, wide enough for only one car. But here and there the side bank had been cut to allow a vehicle to park while another passed it.
Proceeding cautiously over ruts and bumps, Nancy presently pulled into one of the wider places on the right. She stopped the car close to the trees.
“This might be the right place, so we had better go on foot,” Nancy said.
She led the way among the trees, keeping parallel with the road. The girls trudged through the underbrush for nearly a quarter of a mile but saw nothing unusual. The only sounds were the crackle of twigs breaking underfoot.
Suddenly Nancy halted. “Look!” she exclaimed softly. “Larkspur!”
A dozen yards ahead the trees ended. Just beyond was a high wire-mesh fence. Inside it grew a long border of exquisite tall larkspur.
To the girls’ left a large gate across the lane shut off the entrance to the grounds. Next to it stood a small brown lodge.
“This is it!” Nancy whispered gleefully, and her friends nodded.
Beyond the gate the ground sloped gently. A gravel roadway led to the top of the rise, where a large white colonial dwelling with a broad veranda was visible among some trees.
“It’s a beautiful place,” Bess said in a low voice. “I can’t believe crooks live here.”
“We’ll soon find out,” said Nancy.
Cautiously the three girls moved forward, taking advantage of every tree trunk and bush for concealment. There was no sign of habitation. If anyone was inside the gatehouse, he was not to be seen at the moment. Then, for an instant, a flash of white appeared in the distance near the brow of the hill.
“Did you see that?” George whispered tensely. “I’m sure it was a nurse’s uniform.”
“Listen! Do you hear a plane?” Nancy asked.
The girls peered upward. Several minutes passed before the aircraft became visible. Then it shot overhead, flying low.
“It’s the same type plane that wounded the bird!” Nancy said quickly. “And it’s like the one the hotel manager said flew into the Tooker estate. ... Yes, there is that flying horse on the fuselage. This is the place!”
“Sure enough,” said George. “Down he goes. The landing field must be behind the house.”
The plane dipped low, lost altitude rapidly, and vanished behind the roof of the mansion.
“Now what do we do?” Bess asked.
“There is only one thing left,” Nancy answered. “Somehow we must get inside!”
CHAPTER XIII
Baiting a Thief
GEORGE frowned. “You’re not going to try getting into this place now, are you?”
“No,” said Nancy. “I’d probably end up a prisoner.” She thought of the old lady who was being held against her will.
“It’s getting late,” Bess put in. “We’d better go back to the Comings’.”
“Yes,” Nancy agreed reluctantly. “We have our work cut out for us tonight.”
“Why don’t you just tell the police where the sanatorium is?” Bess asked nervously. “Let them rescue Mrs. Eldridge.”
Nancy shook her head. “We must get her to safety before the police raid starts. Otherwise, the gang might harm the poor woman to keep her from talking. We’ll have to find out exactly where they’re keeping her prisoner in the mansion.”
“It’s such a big house,” Bess said gloomily, “Mrs. Eldridge might be hard to find.”
“It’s also possible she’s not here any more,” George said. “The gang knows the police are after them and they may have moved her.”
When they reached the car, Nancy hid in the back again and George drove. At the Comings’ Bess was asked to go in first and make sure Morgan was in his room.
“No use having him learn my secret,” Nancy remarked. “Thorne might get it out of him before I’m ready to have it known.” Learning the coast was clear, she scooted up to her room.
Mrs. Corning had dinner ready, so a tray was prepared for Nancy. The others ate in the dining room, then went upstairs.
“Now tell us your plan for capturing the thieves if they come,” Mr. Corning urged.
Nancy said, “Here it is. First, remember that the crystal-garden room has two doors—one to the hall, the other to the TV room. Each has a key that’s now on the inside.”
Her host nodded.
Nancy went on, “The boys will be outside. Dave will be watching in the shrubs bordering the flagstone area; Burt, at the top of the patch which leads to the dock; and Ned, on the garage roof.
“As soon as the thief—or thieves—enters the house, Ned will signal with a walkie-talkie to Mr. Dennis at the camp and he will call the police. Meanwhile, Burt and Dave will be ready to tackle anybody watching on the outside. We girls will lock any intruders in the crystal room.”
“But suppose they see you?” Mrs. Corning asked.
“They won’t,” said Nancy. “Bess and George will hide across the hall in the kitchen. I’ll be in the TV room. As soon as the thieves enter, I’ll lock the adjoining door. At the same time, the girls will slip across the hall and quietly lock that door.”
Mr. Corning asked what he and his wife should do.
“I suggest you go to your room as usual,” Nancy replied. “That will cause less suspicion.”
At nine o’clock the lights were put out on the first floor, the couple retired, and the girls took their posts. Nancy held the door to the crystal room open a crack, put the key on the outside of the lock, and watched. It seemed that she stood for ages before the other door opened.
There was a
click
and the light went on in the glass cabinet. Nancy gripped the key, ready to shut the door. Suddenly she froze. Only one figure approached the cabinet.
Morgan! A thief!
He was carrying a large suitcase, which he put on the floor. Nancy watched, hardly daring to breathe, as he took a small tool from his pocket and picked at the cabinet lock.
A few minutes later he pulled the glass door open. Then he swung back the lid of the suitcase. Nancy saw that it was divided into compartments and heavily padded with velvet.
“A special carrying case,” she thought.
As the man’s trembling hands reached toward a fragile crystal flower, he suddenly drew back.
“No!” he whispered hoarsely. “I can’t do it!” He buried his face in his hands with a sob.
Nancy hurried to his side. “Morgan!” she said softly. The man whirled and gave a gasp.
“Don’t be afraid,” she said quickly. “Let me help you.”
He groaned and sank into a chair beside the cabinet. “How can you know—all this?”
“I know part of it,” she replied. “Where is the gang? You were to let them in, weren’t you?”
The man stared at her, amazed.
“Yes, but Thorne changed his mind. He said I should steal the crystal flowers and deliver them in this special case he gave me. I used to be pretty good at lock picking,” he added, flushing miserably.
“That’s how Thorne got his hold over you, isn’t it?” asked Nancy. “He knew you’d been in prison and he helped forge your references.”
The thief pulled the glass door open
The houseman nodded. “I wanted to go straight and I did. I wouldn’t hurt the Comings for anything. But Thorne—He wouldn’t leave me alone. Kidnapped me. Held me on a big estate. Said the larkspur would be the signal for this theft. I’d have to deliver—or else.”
“There’s a Mrs. Eldridge being held prisoner there, too,” said Nancy. “Did you see her?”
“Eldridge?” Morgan repeated. “I think I heard the name, but—” Suddenly he broke off. “Listen! There they are!”
The sound of a low whistle came from outside. Nancy flew to the switch and snapped off the light in the crystal case.
“I’ll close it,” Morgan whispered. The door clicked shut. “What—what shall I do?” he stammered.
“Listen,” Nancy said quickly. “We’ll have to get them in here. I have a trap set, but you must go out and tell the men you need help—that you’re too weak to carry all the loot.”
“They’d never believe me. I’m no good at acting.”
“There must be some way to get them in here,” Nancy declared. “Suppose you just don’t go out.”
Morgan gave a bitter laugh. “They’ll go away. And then in a day or so I’ll disappear and never come back. Thorne will see to that. He won’t stand for any double cross.”
Nancy had an idea. “Come with me!” She led the way into the hall.
At once the kitchen door opened. “What’s up?” George whispered. “Where’s the gang?”
Nancy drew Morgan into the dark kitchen and explained to the girls. “But I’ve thought of a way to lure the gang into the house,” she said. “If they find out I wasn’t injured and am still working on this case, they’ll come after me.”
Bess caught her breath. “You don’t mean you’d let them know?”
“Morgan will tell them,” said Nancy. “Bess, you stay here and George will take over the door of the TV room. I’ll go out with Morgan. If they don’t believe him, I’ll let them see me and then run in here. That should do it.”
“No!” said the houseman. “I won’t let you, Miss Drew. Adam Thorne is dangerous. He will stop at nothing. It’s too big a risk for you.”
“I’m not afraid,” said Nancy.
Suddenly Morgan darted away and ran through the utility room. Nancy dashed after him, calling:
“Morgan! Come back!”