Password to Larkspur Lane (6 page)

Nancy laughed and gave him the last one in the jar. “That’s all.”

“It’s okay. I’ll go play with your bird.”

“No, no,” Nancy said quickly. “Leave the bird alone. I don’t want it to fly away.”

The telephone rang and Nancy went to answer it. The caller wanted the library. “I’m sorry,” Nancy said, “you have the wrong—”

She broke off as Effie’s shrill cry sounded from the kitchen.

“Help, Nancy! The bird is loose!”

With a gasp of alarm, Nancy hung up the phone and dashed for the kitchen. Effie was standing at the back door, wringing her hands. Outside, Johnny was squatting beside the box, holding the lid in his hand. The pigeon was looking over the edge.

“Don’t move, Johnny!” Nancy called, and hurried out with Effie behind her.

“He wants to fly,” the little boy said. “He flaps his wings like anything. See?”

The bewildered bird hopped to the edge of the box and sat there, balancing and stretching.

“Stay still, Johnny!” Nancy warned. “Don’t frighten it!”

“He isn’t scared of me,” the boy answered confidently. “He likes me. See?”

Johnny’s chubby little hands swooped toward the bird. Alarmed, the pigeon flapped its wings, rose awkwardly into the air, and landed just out of reach on a kitchen window sill.

“Oh dear!” said Nancy hardly daring to breathe. “We must get it down.”

Effie was already dragging a light lawn chair to the window. “I’ll get him for you.”

“Wait! That won’t hold you.”

Before Nancy could stop her, Effie leaped onto the chair seat and reached for the sill. Nancy grabbed for the chair. Too late! It tipped. With a wild cry Effie toppled off, her arms flailing.

The frightened bird flew away!

“EIFFIE! Are you hurt?” Nancy cried. But even as she helped the girl to her feet, Nancy’s anxious glance went to the bird flying across the yard.

“I’m all right,” Effie said breathlessly. “I’m sorry I scared him away. Oh, there he is!”

She pointed to the pigeon who had come to rest on the garage roof. Then, flying slowly and uncertainly, it flapped about in a circle and took off toward the front of the house.

Nancy grabbed Effie’s hand. “Come on!” She pulled Effie toward her car, which was parked near the front door. “I’ll drive. You watch for the bird. We must follow it!”

Flustered, Effie climbed in beside Nancy, taking off her apron and chattering apologies.

“Don’t talk! Just watch,” Nancy said crisply.

Effie, clutching her pink bow to keep it in place, gazed skyward. “There he goes!”

The pigeon was flying low along the street in front of the house. Nancy started the motor and began to follow slowly.

“I don’t think this will work,” Effie said, “because we have to stay on the streets and the pigeon can fly in any direction.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Nancy said grimly, “but we’re going to try!”

“He’s turning left,” Effie announced. Quickly Nancy turned left onto a side street and followed the bird until it veered again.

“Lucky he’s flying low and slow,” said Effie.

Now and then the bird fluttered to a rest on a roof or tree branch, but the girls managed to track it until they had reached open country beyond the suburbs of River Heights.

“My neck is stiff from watching,” Effie said with a sigh. “Where’s he going, anyway?”

“Home to its owner,” Nancy replied. “Where is it now?”

“He went that way,” said Effie, pointing across a field, “but I can’t see him because of those trees.”

“Oh, we mustn’t lose it!” Nancy exclaimed. She stopped the car and scanned the sky.

Effie gulped. “I’m sorry. I can’t see him. Oh, I could cry!”

“Well, don’t,” Nancy commanded. “That pigeon is one of my best clues. I must find it!”

Suddenly she spotted the large gray bird flying out of the dump of trees. “There he goes!” Nancy exclaimed.

Luckily the pigeon flew parallel to the road and Nancy drove along behind it.

“Please watch the bird, Effie,” Nancy implored as her companion looked away.

“I’m not even blinking both eyes at once,” Effie assured her. “I blink one eye at a time.” After a mile, Effie suddenly pointed to a grove of elms that towered over the flat fields. “Look! He’s going round and round over those trees. I think he’s dizzy.”

“No,” Nancy said, and felt a quiver of excitement. “That’s where it lives. I see buildings in the grove.” A second later the pigeon disappeared among the trees.

Nancy halted the car beside a stone wall over which honeysuckle tumbled. A short distance ahead was a driveway.

“Listen, Effie,” Nancy said firmly, “we are going in there and you are not to say a word about our keeping the pigeon or following it here.”

Effie’s eyes were wide. “Is there a gang of kidnappers in there?” she asked timidly.

“I don’t know who’s there,” Nancy replied. “But we must be prepared for anything.” Then, seeing that Effie was trembling, she said, “Would you rather wait here?”

“Oh, no! I don’t want to stay alone! But maybe I—I could hide in the trunk.”

They got out of the car and Effie scrambled into the luggage compartment. She left the lid open an inch so there would be fresh air.

Nancy slipped behind the wheel again and turned off the little-used, sandy road onto a well-kept gravel driveway. It swept in a great curve toward a long rambling white house.

Nancy drove nearly a quarter of a mile. Then the path dipped under the trees, and Nancy saw that the house was a mansion. Whoever occupied it must be very wealthy. White columns supported the overhanging roof of a porte-cochère.

The young sleuth did not stop there, but headed toward the outbuildings, to the far right of it. She pulled up in front of a stable.

Quietly Nancy got out of the car. Her sweeping glance took in a nearby shed and a large coop beside it containing a number of pigeons. On the roof rested the pigeon Nancy had been following.

The yard was empty. Except for the cooing and flutterings of the birds, the place was silent. Was it deserted? Nancy wondered.

Suddenly she was startled by a noise that sounded like a pistol shot. She whirled. In the shadow of the stable doorway stood a dark, thin-faced man wearing a riding habit. He carried a long, knotted, leather whip which he cracked again.

With an unpleasant grin, he said, “Scared you, didn’t I?”

Keeping her voice cool and even, Nancy said, “Good morning. Is the owner here?”

“Nope,” he said, studying her carefully. “What do you want?”

“I’d like to buy some pigeons,” Nancy said.

“They’ll be expensive,” he said. “Ours are specially trained to fly both day and night. How many birds you want?”

“Two,” Nancy replied. “Do you take care of these all by yourself?” she asked casually, hoping to get a lead on how many men worked at the place.

“Sure,” he said. As he walked toward the coop, he spotted the pigeon on top of it. “Oh—oh!” he exclaimed softly. “So you finally got here!” He hurried over and picked up the pigeon.

The keeper looked it over curiously, then opened the capsule on the bird’s leg. With sinking heart, Nancy remembered that the message was no longer there. She had intended to replace it before releasing the pigeon, but the bird’s sudden escape had made this impossible.

When the man saw that the capsule was empty, he bit his lip and frowned. After putting the pigeon into the coop, he turned and walked back to Nancy, his eyes narrowing.

“It’s a lovely house and grounds,” she remarked innocently. “Who lives here?”

“I’m kind of busy this morning,” he said curtly. “What kind of birds you want?”

“Any healthy pair will do,” Nancy replied.

While they had been talking, the man’s eyes had roved over the convertible and now he gazed at Nancy as if he were trying to make up his mind about something. Had he recognized her? Had Adam Thorne warned his accomplices to be on the lookout for her?

Suddenly the man said, “Okay. I’ll get you a pair. You pay inside the house.”

“Oh, no,” Nancy thought. “I won’t risk that. I think I’d better be ready to leave fast!”

As the pigeon keeper walked toward the coop, Nancy got back into the car and started the motor. Instantly he turned and hurried back.

“Hold it!” he said sharply. “I think you’d better come with me and pick out your own birds.”

Nancy’s heart began to thump. “No, thank you,” she said coolly. “You can do it.”

“Get out!” the man snarled and swiftly seized Nancy’s arm with one hand. He tossed away the whip and reached into the car to turn off the motor.

Suddenly a weird sound came from the rear of the car.
Effie!
It sounded as if she was having an attack of hysterical giggles!

Startled, the man let go of Nancy’s arm. “What’s that?”

Instantly Nancy released the brake and roared off in reverse. In a shower of gravel she turned, then sped past the house and down the driveway. Fearing pursuit, she kept going for about three miles until she reached the small settlement of West Gramby. Here the young detective turned into the parking area of an old-fashioned frame hotel. Quickly she got out and raised the trunk lid.

“Okay, Effie, you can come out now.”

“Oh, Nancy, I’m sorry if I spoiled everything,” said the red-faced girl as she jumped down. “When I heard that man order you to get out of the car, boy, was I scared! I wanted to scream, but all I could do was make a crazy laugh.”

Nancy smiled. “Never mind. Your giggles saved the day.”

To calm the excited girl, Nancy suggested that they have lunch in the hotel coffee shop. While waiting for their order, Nancy phoned a neighbor of the Drews and asked her to give Hannah Gruen some lunch, and tell her that the girls would be home in an hour. Then Nancy questioned the hotel manager about the estate she had seen.

“The owner’s name is Adolf Tooker,” the man said, “and that’s really all anybody knows about him. He’s lived there a year or so, but he keeps to himself.”

“Then he doesn’t bother his neighbors?”

The hotel manager scowled. “His plane does, though, flying all hours of the day and night.”

“Plane?” Nancy repeated.

“Little tan one, with a flying horse—or something—on the fuselage.”

So she had been right! The pigeon had been released from the plane. Nancy was quietly elated, for she felt sure she had found the gang’s hideout. But suddenly she remembered:
there were no larkspur!
And she had not seen a gate.

“The kidnappers must have two hideouts,” Nancy decided. “The pigeons and the plane are used for messages and transportation between them.”

When she and Effie reached home, they went at once to Hannah’s room and told her about the pigeon incident. “You’re having plenty of excitement, Nancy.” The housekeeper sighed. “And here I am cooped up and no use at all!”

Nancy hugged her. “You’ve helped me so often you deserve a rest! And now I must call Bess and George.”

When Bess heard about the invitation to the Comings’, she gave a whoop of delight. “Guess what?” she said. “I just finished talking to Dave. He and Burt are going to that very lake as camp counselors. It happened suddenly, when three old counselors dropped out. You’ll probably hear from Ned soon. And now tell me more about the Comings’ mystery.”

Nancy related it briefly, then phoned George. “I’ll be ready whenever you say, Nancy.”

Just before dinner that evening Nancy made up a bouquet of flowers from her garden and took it to the neighbor who had given Hannah lunch. On the way back, she noticed a black sedan parked across from the Drew house. Two men were seated in it with their hats pulled low. When they noticed her looking at them, the driver pulled away quickly.

“I wonder who they are,” she mused.

Nancy unlocked the front door but could not push it open. She tried harder. It still stuck. What had happened during her absence?

“Effie!” she called loudly through the crack.

In a few seconds an answer came. “Okay, I’ll open it.”

There was the sound of something heavy being dragged over the floor. Effie, pale and trembling, opened the door. “I put the living-room couch and a big chair here to keep those men out,” she explained.

“What men?” Nancy asked.

“The ones in the car across the street. They—they tried to force their way in here, but I slammed the door in their faces.”

“Good for you,” said Nancy, both alarmed and amused. “Who were they?”

“I dunno.”

“Well, they’ve gone, Effie, so don’t worry.”

Nancy herself was greatly concerned and peered from the window several times. The black sedan drove past every few minutes. It was not the one in which Dr. Spire had been kidnapped. Just before Mr. Drew arrived at dinnertime, the car parked once more in front of a house a few doors away. Nancy mentioned it to her father and asked if the police should be notified.

“Not yet,” the lawyer said. “That would only scare them off. I want to find out what they’re up to.”

“I have an idea,” said Nancy, and told him what had happened the night before and during the day. “The keeper passed along the pigeon story, of course, so they know I’ve seen one of their hideouts. And they probably suspect I have the note that was in the capsule. I think they tried to force their way in here to intimidate me so that I wouldn’t call the police—or to take revenge on me if I had.”

Mr. Drew frowned. “Nancy, you are in great danger. You must get away—and secretly.”

“Shall I go to the Comings’?”

“Good idea.”

“But how can I leave secretly, Dad?”

“I have the solution to that problem,” he replied. “I’ll give you my surprise present now.”