“Nobody I know,” the woman answered. “Tourist agency sent him here. Said his name was John Lane and he was from New York City. I don’t know anything about him. Why are you asking all this?”
“This young lady here thinks the man was driving a stolen car,” the officer explained. “It’s a serious charge, and if you’re keeping back any information about your boarders, you may find yourself in difficulty with the police.”
Hearing this, the woman lost her bravado. Over and over she repeated that she knew nothing about the man. Nancy asked her if she could give them a description of Mr. Lane. When this had been done, Nancy said:
“The description fits the man who stole my convertible!”
“I’m sure Mr. Lane won’t come back,” the boardinghouse mistress said. “But if he does, I’ll let you know.”
As the policeman went down the steps with Nancy, he assured her that the police would do everything in their power to track down the thief. Nancy and George followed Alex to the parking lot and once more they pulled their automobiles into position.
Since Donna Mae and Bess had left, Alex offered to show the other girls something of the newer part of New Orleans. He pointed out Canal Street, one of the widest thoroughfares in the world. He said that originally there had been a canal in the center of it which had been used to drain off excessive rain water.
Many people were walking on the street and along the adjoining side streets. Alex explained that thousands of tourists came from all parts of the country to help celebrate the Mardi Gras.
“The parades always disband on Canal Street,” he told the girls.
At twelve o’clock they went to Broussard’s restaurant. Donna Mae and Bess were waiting for them and insisted upon a full explanation of where they had been.
When Donna Mae heard the story, she remarked, “What a shame! I’m sorry you had bad luck not finding out about your car, Nancy. But why bother about it? Goodness, I wouldn’t want to ride in a car that had been driven by such an awful man.” Then she lapsed into silence.
As the group began to eat, Bess told of buying several attractive souvenirs to take home. “Mostly pralines and pecan nougat,” she confessed. “But I did get some lovely prints of New Orleans.”
Donna Mae remained very quiet. What little she said seemed to be forced. But as the dessert was served, she suddenly became animated.
“I’ve just had the most wonderful idea,” she announced. “I’m going to invite Ned Nickerson, Burt Eddleton, and Dave Evans down for the Mardi Gras!”
Nancy smiled. “That’s very sweet of you, Donna Mae, and of course we’d love to see the boys. But I doubt that they could take the time away from college.”
A gleam came into Donna Mae’s eyes. She said meaningly, “They won’t dare refuse!”
CHAPTER XIII
Mississippi Mishap
THE IMPLIED threat in Donna Mae’s remark angered Nancy, Bess, and George. All of them were sure what the girl had in mind: She did not want either Alex or Charles to make any dates with Nancy and her friends. She was going to make the boys from Emerson College so jealous they would not dare refuse to come to New Orleans!
None of the three girls expressed their thoughts aloud, however. Instead, Bess said sweetly, “Oh, I’d adore to see Dave Evans!”
“There’s no one I’d rather date than Burt Eddleton,” George spoke up quickly.
Nancy added, “I’m sure the boys would have a wonderful time here if they can come. And I must admit that I prefer Ned to any other escort.”
George grinned. “I’ll tell you one thing, Donna Mae. Burt will never consent to putting on the costume of a fairy prince for your ball!”
Her remark eased the tension and everyone laughed.
The subject was dropped when Alex announced, “Now for some more sight-seeing. I’ve rented a launch and we’ll show you girls the river.”
“That sounds alluring,” Bess commented. “The Mississippi is such a romantic river.”
“It’s more than that,” Alex told her. “It’s one of the busiest.”
They drove through several narrow streets until they came to the waterfront, lined with docks and ships at anchor. Donna Mae said it was one of the most important shipping points in the world.
“Millions of tons of cargo go through here every year. One thing is of particular interest. The New Orleans port is known as a foreign trade zone. This means that foreign vessels coming in here can unload and have the cargo transferred to another ship going out of the United States without payment of customs duty.”
By this time, they had reached the dock where the rented launch was tied up. It was a trim craft with a small cabin. The group eagerly climbed aboard and Alex took the wheel.
Soon the launch was out in the middle of the stream. The sight-seers looked up and down the river at the great docks, where vessels of various sizes and kinds were moored.
“See that white boat over there?” Donna Mae pointed. “That’s a banana boat. It’s painted white so the sun will be reflected. In this way the hold where the fruit is stored remains cool.”
They passed a small puffing tug which was pushing a string of cargo boats. George remarked that the little tugs must have tremendous power.
“They do,” said Alex. “And of course the flowing river helps a little. It’s only when the tugs go upstream that they have to work hard.”
Part of the tour led past huge grain elevators. Alex remarked, “Those long conveyors you see can load eighteen thousand bushels an hour onto the ships.”
“Yes,” Donna said, and added, “The grain barges can hold as much as three thousand bushels!”
“I suppose,” said George, “that the bananas are incoming cargo and the grain is outgoing.”
“That’s right,” Donna Mae replied. “The grain goes to countries in many parts of the world.”
The New Orleans girl now proudly said that the United States engineers had conquered the problem of floods for the city.
“It used to be perfectly frightening when the old river overflowed and the levees broke,” she said. “When the Mississippi goes on a rampage now, some of the water is pumped into Lake Pontchartrain miles above here. The excess is carried through steel-reinforced concrete tunnels to a point fifteen miles below the city. You wouldn’t believe it, but there are a thousand miles of pipe!”
Presently Alex turned upstream and Donna Mae said she wanted the girls to see some of the plantation homes along the upper river. Soon they left the area of traffic. Only now and then they passed a boat.
“What a divine place to live!” Bess remarked, gazing at pecan orchards framing a lovely old house.
Presently Nancy glanced at her watch. “I think we’d better turn back now,” she suggested, thinking of the girls’ dinner engagement at the Bartolomes. “It’s getting late.”
“Oh, no!” Donna Mae protested. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
George laughed. “I’ve seen so much, I’m sure I won’t be able to remember it all.”
Nevertheless, Alex went on for several miles more, with Donna Mae pointing out the high concrete levees in some places and farm land running right down to the river in others. Again Nancy asked Alex to turn around.
“Okay,” he agreed, making a wide sweep in the river and coming about at five hundred yards from the far shore. Suddenly the motor began to sputter and the next moment it stopped.
“Goodness, what’s the matter?” Donna Mae asked.
Alex gave a great sigh. “We’re out of gas!”
Nancy was angry. Why hadn’t Alex checked the tank before they left? Aloud she merely said, “There must be an emergency can on board.”
All the young people searched. They opened every locker, but there was no extra fuel in any of them.
“Well, this is a fine mess!” George exclaimed in disgust.
The three River Heights girls looked at one another, the same thought in all their minds. Had Alex and Donna Mae planned this on purpose to keep them from going to the Bartolome home to dinner?
“If they are guilty, I’m not going to let them get the better of me,” Nancy determined silently. Aloud she cried out, “Help! Help!”
Bess and George yelled also. Alex and Donna Mae sat still, smiling amusedly. When no one appeared in answer to the girls’ call, George looked at Alex and demanded:
“Well, aren’t you going to do something?”
“What can I do?” the young man replied, shrugging. “We’ll get back sooner or later. The stream will carry us down slowly and we’ll meet someone who will give us gas.”
Such a delay was not to Nancy’s liking. She decided to do something at once. “I’m going for help,” she announced.
Standing up, she kicked off her shoes and then unfastened the skirt of her three-piece ensemble. Before the others could object, she dived overboard, and began swimming with strong strokes for shore.
“She’s crazy!” Alex exclaimed. “She may never make shore. And if she does, there’s probably not a house for miles around.”
Bess was almost persuaded to his viewpoint. But George said confidently, “Nancy will make it all right.”
Nancy did swim the five hundred yards easily. She crawled up the low levee, then disappeared from view. The others waited anxiously.
Presently they heard the hum of a motor starting up, and from around a bend in the river came a small motorboat. In it were Nancy and a middle-aged farmer. On a seat stood a five-gallon can of gas.
With little ado, the fuel was poured into the tank of the rented craft and Alex paid the man. Nancy thanked the farmer for all his trouble and climbed back into the launch. Alex started the motor and headed for New Orleans.
“Oh, Nancy, you’re wonderful!” Donna Mae said. “Simply wonderful! I’d never have had the nerve to do that.”
Bess and George looked at their chum admiringly, adding their praise also. Alex, however, kept silent.
Nancy herself merely laughed. “I must be a sight,” she declared. “Bess, lend me a dean handkerchief, will you?”
With it, Nancy tried to wipe the muddy water from her face, neck, and arms, but with little success. The wind soon dried her hair and clothes.
After she had put on her skirt and shoes, Nancy noticed that the launch was going very slowly. She urged Alex to speed up. He made no comment, but did give the craft more power.
As soon as they reached the dock, Nancy, Bess, and George hopped out. “Thank you so much for a grand trip,” Nancy said. “Now we must hurry. If you don’t mind, we’ll grab a taxi back to the parking lot. Then we’ll hurry on home.”
By the time the girls reached Sunnymcad, it was already six-thirty. Only half an hour before dinner at the Bartolomes’!
“Bess,” said Nancy, “will you please call Charles’s mother and explain why we’ll be a little late. I’ll dash right upstairs and wash the Mississippi mud out of my hair. And, George, will you get some clothes we can wear on our bayou trip tonight and hide them in the trunk of the car?”
A few minutes later Bess came to Nancy’s room. She reported that Mrs. Bartolome had graciously said she would postpone the dinner hour to eight o’clock. George said the sports clothes and shoes were in the car.
By seven-thirty the girls were ready to leave. As they walked into the hall, Donna Mae, looking very attractive in a peach-colored organdy, came from her room.
“Have a wonderful time, girls,” she said. “I should warn you, though, that Mrs. Bartolome goes to bed early. You’ll be back here by ten.”
George flushed with anger. She said icily, “We’ll be here when we get here!”
Donna Mae looked as if she had been stung. To ease the tension, Nancy said quickly, “Do have a nice time at your dinner party.”
The three girls hurried from the house and went to Nancy’s car. Bess got in front with Nancy, while George seated herself in the rear. As they drove off, Bess said severely to her cousin:
“Why in the world did you talk like that to Donna Mae? Do you want to spoil everything for us? If the situation around here gets much worse, Aunt Stella and the Colonel may ask us to leave.”
“I’m sorry,” said George, “but Donna Mae makes me positively ill when she gets on her high horse!”
“She certainly has changed,” Bess admitted. “I’ll bet Alex is putting her up to a lot of these things.”
Nancy was very quiet. So many unexplained things had occurred that now she was alert for trouble at any moment.
“Cat got your tongue, Nancy?” George spoke up.
The girl detective laughed. “No,” she replied, “but I have a feeling that we should be extra-cautious tonight.” Then Nancy added, “I’ve been thinking over what you girls said about Donna Mae. She did seem very different today, especially when we were on the launch. Up to now I hadn’t thought that she was interested in anything but herself. Actually, she’s a very intelligent girl.”
At that moment the girls reached the long, tree-lined driveway of Oleander Manor, the Bartolome estate.
Nancy began to breathe more easily. She relaxed and leaned back in her seat.
“Isn’t this an attractive—?”
She never finished the sentence. From among the low branches of the tree she was just passing a stone hurtled toward her!
CHAPTER XIV
Ghost on Board
FLYING through the open car window, the large stone grazed the side of Nancy’s head. It continued to the back seat, narrowly missing George, who ducked just in time to avoid injury. The rock landed with a thud against the rear cushion.
“Oh!” Bess screamed.
Nancy quickly braked the car to a stop. As the girls looked back, they saw a man running away from the tree and down the driveway.
“We must catch him!” George urged, as Nancy began to back up.
The lean stranger, realizing that he was being pursued, dashed across the lawn to some bushes and disappeared.
As Nancy opened the door to step out, Bess held her back. “Don’t you dare go after him! He’ll probably throw another stone.”