Walnut.
The tree had a small hollow space in its trunk. It contained no message, however. She had been about to turn back when a piece of paper on the ground had caught her eye. Examination had revealed that it was a half sheet torn from a catalog.
“It matched that scrap of paper I found in the clearing near the Humphrey Walnut,” Nancy said.
Obviously the sheet had been ripped from the catalog of a supply house for magicians’ equipment. One advertisement offered spirit smoke for sale.
While Nancy had been reading, she had heard footsteps and looked up. Through the woods, some distance up the path, she had seen a young woman approaching. Hastily Nancy stepped back, intending to hide behind the walnut tree.
At that moment something had struck her from behind.
“That’s the last I remember,” she added ruefully.
“Who would do such a wicked thing?” Mrs. Gruen demanded in horror.
“It’s easy to guess,” Nancy replied. “The tree must be another place where the members of the gang collect money from their victims. I probably had the bad luck to arrive here at the moment a client was expected.
“You mean the same fellow who had the reaching rod hit you to get you out of the way?” Bess asked. “Oh,” she added nervously, “he still may be around!”
“I doubt it,” Nancy said. “He probably took the money that girl left, and ran.”
“I’m going to inform the police!” Hannah Gruen announced in a determined voice.
Nancy tried to dissuade her, but for once her arguments had no effect. On the way home with the girls, Mrs. Gruen herself stopped at the office of the State Police. She revealed all she knew of the attack upon Nancy.
As a result, troopers searched the woods thoroughly; but, exactly as Nancy had foreseen, not a trace was found of her assailant. However, when they searched the interior of the cabin, they found evidence pointing to the fact that its recent residents were interested in magic.
When they reached home, Mrs. Gruen told Nancy about the telephone call from a clerk at the Claymore Hotel. She went to see him at once, and was given a letter addressed to Mrs. Egan. It was signed by Mrs. Putney!
The note merely said that the services of Mrs. Egan would no longer be required. The spirit of Mrs. Putney’s departed husband was again making visitations to his former home to advise her.
Taking the letter with her, Nancy mulled over the matter for some time.
The next morning, she decided to pay Mrs. Putney a visit, hoping she would be able to see her this time. But Mrs. Putney was not there, and a neighbor in the next house told Nancy she had been gone all morning.
“Doesn’t Mrs. Putney ever drive her car?” Nancy asked, seeing it through a garage window.
“Not since her husband died.”
“Does she have someone else drive her?”
“Oh, no! She won’t let a soul touch the car.”
Nancy was puzzled. Someone must have taken the car without Mrs. Putney’s permission.
“If that woman we saw in the back seat was Mrs. Putney, maybe she didn’t know where she was or what she was doing, any more than poor Lola did when she walked into the river!” Nancy told herself.
Nancy thanked the woman and withdrew. She hurried back to the garage to look for evidence that the car had been used recently. Fortunately the door was not locked. She examined the car carefully. It was covered with a film of dust and the rear axle was mounted on jacks. It had obviously not been driven for some time.
Something else struck Nancy as peculiar. The license plate bore a number that was different from the one registered as Mrs. Putney’s.
“Hers must have been stolen and someone else’s plate put on her car!” the young detective thought excitedly. “Maybe this number belongs to one of the racketeers and he used Mrs. Putney’s to keep people from tracing him!”
Nancy dashed off in her convertible to the Motor Vehicle Bureau office. There she learned that the license on the widow’s car
The tree had a small hollow space in its trunk. It contained no message, however. She had been about to turn back when a piece of paper on the ground had caught her eye. Examination had revealed that it was a half sheet torn from a catalog.
“It matched that scrap of paper I found in the clearing near the Humphrey Walnut,” Nancy said.
Obviously the sheet had been ripped from the catalog of a supply house for magicians’ equipment. One advertisement offered spirit smoke for sale.
While Nancy had been reading, she had heard footsteps and looked up. Through the woods, some distance up the path, she had seen a young woman approaching. Hastily Nancy stepped back, intending to hide behind the walnut tree.
At that moment something had struck her from behind.
“That’s the last I remember,” she added ruefully.
“Who would do such a wicked thing?” Mrs. Gruen demanded in horror.
“It’s easy to guess,” Nancy replied. “The tree must be another place where the members of the gang collect money from their victims. I probably had the bad luck to arrive here at the moment a client was expected.
“You mean the same fellow who had the reaching rod hit you to get you out of the way?” Bess asked. “Oh,” she added nervously, “he still may be around!”
“I doubt it,” Nancy said. “He probably took the money that girl left, and ran.”
“I’m going to inform the police!” Hannah Gruen announced in a determined voice.
Nancy tried to dissuade her, but for once her arguments had no effect. On the way home with the girls, Mrs. Gruen herself stopped at the office of the State Police. She revealed all she knew of the attack upon Nancy.
As a result, troopers searched the woods thoroughly; but, exactly as Nancy had foreseen, not a trace was found of her assailant. However, when they searched the interior of the cabin, they found evidence pointing to the fact that its recent residents were interested in magic.
When they reached home, Mrs. Gruen told Nancy about the telephone call from a clerk at the Claymore Hotel. She went to see him at once, and was given a letter addressed to Mrs. Egan. It was signed by Mrs. Putney!
The note merely said that the services of Mrs. Egan would no longer be required. The spirit of Mrs. Putney’s departed husband was again making visitations to his former home to advise her.
Taking the letter with her, Nancy mulled over the matter for some time.
The next morning, she decided to pay Mrs. Putney a visit, hoping she would be able to see her this time. But Mrs. Putney was not there, and a neighbor in the next house told Nancy she had been gone all morning.
“Doesn’t Mrs. Putney ever drive her car?” Nancy asked, seeing it through a garage window.
“Not since her husband died.”
“Does she have someone else drive her?”
“Oh, no! She won’t let a soul touch the car.”
Nancy was puzzled. Someone must have taken the car without Mrs. Putney’s permission.
“If that woman we saw in the back seat was Mrs. Putney, maybe she didn’t know where she was or what she was doing, any more than poor Lola did when she walked into the river!” Nancy told herself.
Nancy thanked the woman and withdrew. She hurried back to the garage to look for evidence that the car had been used recently. Fortunately the door was not locked. She examined the car carefully. It was covered with a film of dust and the rear axle was mounted on jacks. It had obviously not been driven for some time.
Something else struck Nancy as peculiar. The license plate bore a number that was different from the one registered as Mrs. Putney’s.
“Hers must have been stolen and someone else’s plate put on her car!” the young detective thought excitedly. “Maybe this number belongs to one of the racketeers and he used Mrs. Putney’s to keep people from tracing him!”
Nancy dashed off in her convertible to the Motor Vehicle Bureau office. There she learned that the license on the widow’s car
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