Password to Larkspur Lane by Carolyn Keene

stepped into a hole, and I—I think my ankle is sprained,” George said, her face white.
    Nancy’s heart sank. If any of them should become helplessly injured, detection would certainly follow.
    “Oh, it’s all my fault,” whispered Bess. “I’m sorry, George. I thought I stepped on something alive.” Her eyes filled with tears.
    George managed a grin. “Take it easy. I’m not dying.”
    Nancy knelt beside George, and with deft fingers felt the injured ankle, wishing that Dr. Spire were with them now!
    “I’m sure it’s not broken,” she said softly.
    George rubbed her ankle gingerly. “Go on, you two. I’ll wait for you here.”
    “You sure you’re all right?” Nancy asked.
    “Yes. Go on, please.”
    Nancy and Bess resumed their cautious advance to the top of the rise. There they had a full view of all the grounds.
    Surrounding the house was a wide lawn with gravel walks and flower beds. In the rear was a huge meadow which Nancy surmised was used as a landing field for the airplane. The craft was not in sight.
    Just below the brow of the hill, and connected with the house by a long arbor, was a group of outbuildings—a carriage house evidently converted into a garage, a good-sized barn, and a chicken yard.
    “Listen,” Nancy said, raising a finger. “I heard cooing.”
    “Pigeons!” Bess exclaimed.
    The girls moved ahead until they were behind the carriage house, where they saw a small wooden building which had no window on their side. Here they rested in the shade until aroused by soft cooing and the sound of a man’s voice.
    “You’re getting better!” the listeners heard through the wooden walls. “I guess you’ll be able to work again if we keep you warm with this electric light. That’ll cure you!”
    There was more cooing. Then the unseen man said, “You ought to be ashamed taking a couple of days getting to the boss’s place and arriving there lame at that! And why did you go to Drews’, you half-witted barnyard goose?” A door closed and all was silent.
    “Did you hear what that man said?” Bess asked with a catch in her voice. “He mentioned your name!”
    “Yes. That was the man I met at Tooker’s estate. I recognized his voice,” Nancy said as she walked ahead.
    Once past the outbuildings, the girls saw a lichen-covered sundial surrounded by a grassy court. In it stood a number of wheelchairs, each occupied by an old lady.
    A large woman in a nurse’s uniform had her back to the girls. She seemed to be administering to one of the elderly women.
    “It looks like a real nursing home,” Bess whispered. “Perhaps our suspicions are all wrong.”
    Nancy put a finger to her lips. The nurse turned and walked toward the fence.
    “That’s the woman who stole my handbag!” Nancy exclaimed softly.
    “The one who took the bracelet?”
    “Yes. She’s in league with Thorne and Tooker, I feel sure.”
    “One of those old ladies may be Mrs. Eldridge,” Bess said, “but how can we find out?”
    “I don’t know yet, but I’ll think of something,” Nancy replied. “Meanwhile, we’d better go back and help George to the car. If she were discovered, she’d have no way to escape.”
    The girls hurried back to their companion and the three made their way down the hill. George limped along as quickly as she could, but progress was slow. When they had nearly reached the gatehouse, the girls paused and George sat down on a stump to rest.
    Suddenly Nancy seized Bess’s arm and pointed among the trees. On the other side of the wire barrier was an old woman, dozing in a wheelchair.
    “Stay here,” Nancy whispered. “I’m going closer.”
    Bess clung to her friend’s arm. “No! Suppose they catch you!”
    “I must talk to that old lady,” said Nancy. “She may be able to help us.”
    Nancy crept cautiously toward the fence. When she was a few feet away, still screened by bushes, she stifled a gasp. The elderly lady wore a necklace which looked like the gold bracelet Dr.