10 Password to Larkspur Lane
Yüklə 0,64 Mb. Pdf görüntüsü
|
|
CHAPTER I Singing Horses “IF this were two thousand years ago—!” Nancy Drew paused on the flagstone path of her garden in front of a border of beautiful larkspur. For a moment the attractive titian- haired girl of eighteen watched the tall blue plumes waving in the breeze. Then she turned to the middle-aged woman behind her. “I must select the very best for the flower show, Hannah,” she said. The Drews’ housekeeper and Nancy paused to look up at a passing airplane. They were startled to hear its engines cut out. As Nancy and Hannah watched in alarm, a wounded bird plummeted down and landed among the flowers. “A homing pigeon!” Nancy exclaimed, seeing the tiny metal tube attached to its leg. “Maybe the bird’s carrying a message!” Hannah Gruen’s eyes were on the plane. “Oh, Nancy!” she gasped. “It’s going to crash!” Nancy gazed upward and saw that the twin- engine craft was flying very low. The plane was tan color and had a curious design outlined in black on the fuselage. 1 “It looks like a winged horse,” Nancy thought, but she could not be sure, since the sun was shining in her eyes. Suddenly the coughing engines roared to life and the plane nosed upward, then zoomed away. “Whew!” Hannah exclaimed. “I thought that thing was going to fall right onto our house!” “I wonder if the plane hit this pigeon,” Nancy said, and once more turned her attention to the bird, which was panting feebly. “You poor dear!” she said, picking it up. Gently Nancy felt for broken bones, but found none. “The pigeon may only be stunned,” she said. “What a miracle that it’s alive!” Hannah said. Nancy nodded. “I’d better see if the pigeon’s carrying a message. It might be something important that we ought to report to the bird’s owner.” While the housekeeper held the pigeon, Nancy removed the top of the capsule on its leg and slid out a thin piece of paper. She unrolled the message and read aloud:“ ‘Trouble here. After five o’clock blue bells will be singing horses. Come tonight.’ ” Nancy and Hannah looked at each other in puzzlement. “It’s a strange message,” the housekeeper said. “What in the world does that mean?” “I wish I knew,” Nancy replied, “but it sounds urgent—and mysterious.” She slipped the message into her pocket. “I’ll wire the International Federation of American Homing Pigeon Fanciers and give them the number stamped on the bird’s leg ring. All homing pigeons are registered by number so the owners can be traced.” She examined the ring containing the digits 2- 21-12-12, then hurried off to phone the telegraph office. By the time she returned, Hannah had placed the bird in a cardboard box lined with cotton. Nancy brought an eyedropper and with it gave the pigeon water. Then she put some wild-bird seed in the box. “Do get well,” she said softly. “How are pigeons trained to carry messages?” Hannah asked as Nancy placed the box on a garage shelf. “They have a home loft. No matter where the birds are released, they always fly back there.” 2 “Did you ever hear how fast they can fly?” “I read about some pigeons who raced from Mexico City to New York, averaging a mile a minute.” Nancy glanced at her watch. “I’d better hurry or I won’t get to the flower show on time.” She continued snipping prize larkspurs and putting them in a basket. “Before all the excitement began,” said Hannah, “you were saying, ‘If this were two thousand years ago—,’ but you didn’t finish. What did you mean?” Nancy smiled. “I was thinking that if I had lived two thousand years ago I might have been a Grecian maiden. And in that case, I might be praying right now in the Temple of Apollo at Delphi. I always imagine flowers around there. Maybe delphinium—that’s another name for larkspur.” “What would you be asking for?” said Hannah. “That my father’s olive groves would bear extra well, that his vines would be loaded with grapes and his nets heavy with fish every morning.” Hannah laughed heartily at the thought of her employer, Carson Drew, the well-known lawyer, picking olives or hauling in a fish- filled net. While talking, Nancy and Hannah had been cutting stalks with the finest flowers and before long had a basketful. Nancy took it into the kitchen and carefully fashioned an exquisite arrangement in an old English vase. She carried it to her convertible parked in the circular driveway. She thought, “My car was a good-looking one until that horrid man ran into it last week.” Ruefully she surveyed the dent. “It’s a strange message, Nancy,” the housekeeper said “Good luck with your entry,” Mrs. Gruen said. “Hope it wins a prize!” “Hannah, you’re a darling!” Nancy exclaimed and kissed her. The two had deep affection for each other. The girl’s mother had died when Nancy was very young and the housekeeper had helped Mr. Drew bring up his only child. As Nancy drove across the town of River Heights, she mulled over the strange message on the homing pigeon. Was it a code? Suddenly it occurred to Nancy that the pigeon might 3 have been released from the plane which accidentally struck it. She wondered what the reply would be from the Homing Pigeon Fanciers association. “Maybe,”’ she thought excitedly, “I’ve stumbled upon a new mystery!” By this time she had reached the Blenheim estate on the outskirts of River Heights. The broad tree-shadowed lawn was filled with women setting up displays for the annual charity flower show. Nancy had been assigned a spot in the greenhouse behind the mansion. As she set her larkspur arrangement in place, the chairman came up to her. “My, Nancy, your delphinium are gorgeous,” Mrs. Winsor said. “Thank you,” Nancy replied. “I just adore larkspur,” the woman said. “Such a lovely old-fashioned flower. My grandmother had them in her garden. She always had hollyhocks and bluebells, too.” Bluebells! Nancy’s mind leaped to the mysterious message. Could the blue bells in it mean flowers? Aloud she said, “Mrs. Winsor, I hope the judges like my flowers as much as you do!” Nancy hurried back to the convertible. She was eager to get home and see if a reply to her telegram had come. To make better time, Nancy turned off the main highway onto a little-traveled shortcut. As she drove down the narrow road, Nancy saw an old black sedan parked along one side. The dusty leaves of some sprawling bushes lay across the top of the automobile and hung down over the windshield and other windows. It was impossible to see inside. “That’s really an old-timer,” Nancy thought, and wondered if anyone were in it. After she had passed the car, her eyes shifted to the rear-view mirror. Slowing up, she studied the license plate, which was so mud- splattered that only four digits showed: 2-21- 1. Nancy’s interest quickened at once. These were the first four numbers on the pigeon’s leg band! Was there a connection? She gave the license plate another fleeting glance and noted by the color that it was from out of state, but she could not see the identifying initials. A moment later an oncoming car passed her. The driver raised a hand and called, “Hello, Nancy!” “Dr. Spire!” she exclaimed. 4 The famous bone specialist, a friend of the Drew family, was often called out on local emergencies. Glancing back again, Nancy was surprised to see Dr. Spire pull up in back of the old sedan. Wondering if she could be of help, Nancy stopped at the side of the road and watched as the physician walked toward the parked car carrying his black bag. As he reached the sedan, a rear door swung open. Dr. Spire put one foot inside and leaned forward. With a sudden movement he vanished into the car and it roared away. “That was strange!” Nancy said aloud. “It seemed as if someone jerked him into the back seat. He may have been kidnapped!” On a hunch, Nancy backed her convertible to the physician’s car, then braked and leaped out. Dr. Spire had locked his car and the keys were gone. “I guess he expected to be met,” Nancy told herself. “He probably jumped into the old sedan. But the whole thing is peculiar.” When Nancy reached home, Mrs. Gruen opened the front door. “It’s here. Came a few minutes ago.” She handed over a telegram. Nancy tore open the envelope. The wire was from the Pigeon Fanciers association. It read:LOCAL REPRESENTATIVE WILL CALL. BIRD NOT REGISTERED. SUSPECT TROUBLE. KEEP MESSAGE SECRET. Yüklə 0,64 Mb. Dostları ilə paylaş:
|