(#39) The Clue of the Dancing Puppet (9 page)

As soon as they had finished eating, she escaped to her room, weary and full of questions. When puzzled, Nancy liked to stretch out on the bed in the darkness and think things through. Right now she was extremely curious about Terrill, or Whipley, whichever his name was. Why was he interested in trying to get her away from the Van Pelt estate?

Before she had a chance to start undressing, there was a tap on her door.

“Nancy?” She recognized Mr. Spencer’s voice.

Nancy opened the door. In a whisper, the actor said, “I’m going outside and watch for the dancing puppet. I have a feeling she’ll show up again tonight. If she does, I’d like to let you know so you can be there.”

“But she’ll be gone by the time you warn me,” Nancy objected.

Mr. Spencer grinned. Reddening slightly, he said, “I’ve rigged up a bell system from the kitchen to your room.” He pointed to a crude arrangement on the bedside table.

Nancy chuckled. “You think of everything. Yes, I’d like to be notified if you see the dancing puppet. I’ll sleep with my ears wide open!”

Mr. Spencer said good night and went off. Nancy closed the door and soon was ready for bed in shortie pajamas. As she turned out the light and rolled up the window shade, the young sleuth thought, “The moon will be up late tonight, but it’s a perfect setting for a ghostly performance.”

At that moment there was another knock on her door, and Bess came in. “I know you must be dreadfully tired,” she said. “But I can’t resist telling you something. In the show tonight, Tammi pulled another one of her overdone love scenes with Bob Simpson. And that’s not all. He left the theater as soon as possible and literally ran toward his dressing room in the house. Tammi dashed after him. I had gone on ahead and saw this, so I hid behind a bush and watched. She said something to him—I couldn’t hear what it was—but he started running faster than ever, and called over his shoulder, ‘Don’t be silly!’ ”

Nancy burst out laughing. “I hate to say it, but it served Tammi right.” Then she became serious. “Tammi had quite an evening, first being ditched by Bob, then finding a man in her car whom she acted surprised to see and apparently had to go off with.”

“This place is full of surprises,” said Bess, yawning. “Just now I came past Emmet Calhoun’s room. The door’s open. He isn’t there, and his bed isn’t turned down!”

Nancy was amazed to hear this. “It’s a funny time of night for him to be going off,” she said thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, he wasn’t with us in the kitchen when we were having a snack. Where could he have gone? He doesn’t have a car.”

“Search me,” Bess said. “Well, good night.”

When Nancy finally settled down, she thought she would go over the chain of events in the mystery. But sleep overcame her immediately. She was deep in slumber when her subconscious mind became aware of a tinkling sound.

The newly rigged bell on her bedside table was ringing insistently!

CHAPTER XII

Puppet Snatcher

IN A MOMENT Nancy was wide awake. Thinking it best not to turn on the bedroom light, she felt for the chair near the window on which she had laid the dress she had worn that evening and pulled it over her head.

As she stepped into loafers, Nancy gazed out the window. Her heart began to beat faster.

In the center of the lawn, a life-size puppet in ballet costume was jerkily dancing across the grass!

To Nancy’s amazement, a flashlight was trained on the figure. The light came from some bushes along the driveway leading into the estate. Nancy could not see the person holding the light.

“I must hurry!” she told herself, and although it took only a few seconds to zip up her dress, it seemed like an hour to the excited young detective. She grabbed her own flashlight and dashed along the hallway toward the rear stairs.

“Cally old boy isn’t in yet,” she told herself, noting that his door was still open and the bed-covers still in place.

As Nancy leaped down the stairway, she wondered about the Shakespearean actor. Had he disappeared in order to put on the puppet show?

A moment later she reached the kitchen, sped across it, and out the door. At the foot of the steps, partially concealed by the bushes, stood Mr. Spencer. Nancy went to stand beside him.

“It’s unbelievable!” he whispered in an awed tone. “Nobody’s working that puppet, yet it acts as if it were human!”

Nancy strained her eyes to see if she could figure out any explanation for the movement of the jerky, yet at times graceful, motions of the dancing puppet. She could see nothing to indicate wires or string. Could it have a mechanism inside which was wound up?

“We must capture the puppet!” Nancy declared. “Come on!”

With no pretense of moving stealthily, the two dashed across the grass. By this time the mysterious figure was not far from the trees where the flashlight shone on it.

“We’re gaining!” Nancy thought in delight Any moment now she might solve the mystery surrounding the dancing puppet!

Suddenly the bright flashlight ahead went out. For a few seconds Nancy and Mr. Spencer could not see the dancing figure, but as soon as their eyes became accustomed to the pale moonlight, they detected her still dancing jerkily across the lawn.

Nancy doubled her speed. She was still some distance from the puppet, when suddenly she was startled to see a long-robed, black-hooded figure emerge from among the trees. The person, with his back to her, reached out and grabbed the dancer. Tucking her under his arm, he made a wild run for the road and disappeared in the darkness.

“Good heavens!” Mr. Spencer cried out, trying to catch up to Nancy.

The heavy line of trees and bushes along the curved driveway had swallowed up the puppet and her abductor. Nancy followed doggedly. At the point where she reached the driveway, it curved ahead sharply. The black-hooded figure was not in sight. Nancy hurried around the bend. Still no sign of the mysterious person.

“Where did he go?” she asked herself. She listened for the sound of a car but heard none. “He must be escaping along the main road.”

Nancy dashed all the way to the end of the driveway and looked up and down. The dancing puppet and the person carrying her were not in sight.

Before going farther, Nancy decided to wait for Mr. Spencer and see what he had to suggest The actor, when he caught up to her, was out of breath and disgusted. He felt there was little more they could do. “We can train our flashlights among the trees,” he said. “The fellow may be hiding.”

Nancy and the actor made a thorough search, casting their lights back of every tree and bush. Their quarry was not behind any of them.

“He made a clean getaway,” said Mr. Spencer. “I suppose we may as well go back to the house and get some sleep.”

Intent on searching the ground, Nancy did not reply.

Mr. Spencer went on, “I don’t mind confessing to you, Nancy, that this puppet business has me extremely worried. It was bad enough when just the dancer was involved, but now that we know there is a flesh-and-blood puppeteer who doesn’t want his identity known, I’m more worried than ever. Have you any theory?”

“Just one, Mr. Spencer. We haven’t yet learned why the puppet is made to perform, but I’m sure the reason is one that involves another mystery.”

“Oh, dear!” Mr. Spencer sighed.

Suddenly Nancy found what she had been looking for—the footprints of the hooded figure. She pointed them out to the actor.

“Here are some deep, well-formed prints,” she said. “I’ll ring them with stones and then ask Chief McGinnis to send men out here to make moulages of them.”

“You mean in the morning?” the actor asked, and Nancy nodded.

He helped her find some small stones, and they encircled several of the footprints.

Mr. Spencer heaved a sigh, then chuckled. “You certainly
are
a detective, Nancy,” he said. “I’m delighted your father suggested that you help me solve the mystery of the dancing puppet.”

“Better save your thanks until I really do something,” Nancy replied, smiling, as she and Mr. Spencer started back to the house.

As Nancy began to drop off to sleep once more, she could not help wondering again about Emmet Calhoun. She had meant to ask Mr. Spencer where he was, but had forgotten to do so.

“Oh, well, I’ll find out in the morning.”

There was no further disturbance that night, and everyone slept soundly. As usual, the Spencers were not up when Nancy and her friends came down to breakfast. While Bess was scrambling eggs, Nancy telephoned Chief McGinnis and told him about the circled footprints.

“Very good, Nancy,” he praised her. “I’ll send a couple of men out there to make moulages.”

“I’ll meet the officers at the gate,” Nancy offered, “and show them the exact spot. What time will they be here?”

“Nine-thirty,” the chief replied.

Promptly at that hour Nancy was at the entrance gate of the Footlighters’ property. When Officers Jim Clancy and Mark Smith arrived, she led them to the spot where she and Mr. Spencer had carefully laid the small stones.

Footprints and stones were gone!

Thinking she had made a mistake in the location, Nancy searched for further footprints similar to those she had ringed. There was not a sign of one of theml The two police officers, holding the equipment they had planned to use, stood in silence watching her. Finally she admitted that the footprints had been removed.

“The person who made them must have come back and brushed them all away, Indian style, with tree branches,” she remarked.

The officers did not comment, nor give any sign that they thought she had brought them out on a wild-goose chase. They knew Nancy Drew by reputation and felt sure she would not purposely report a false alarm to the police department. They helped her search.

“Probably,” said one of the men, “the fellow came back here in stocking feet. He sure doesn’t want you to find out who he is.”

“Nor the police,” Nancy added.

Suddenly she turned her gaze upward among the trees. “I have a theory. I believe the man we were chasing last night climbed one of these trees and overheard everything Mr. Spencer and I said.”

“You’re probably right,” said the other officer. “Well, Jim, I guess we may as well go back to headquarters.”

“Wait a minute!” Nancy pleaded. She was not ready to give up yet, and furthermore she wanted to compensate for having called them on a futile errand.

Quickly she began examining the tree trunks in the area where she had found the deepest footprints. Presently she exclaimed, “This trunk looks as if the bark had been newly peeled off!”

Before the two officers could reach the tree to verify her statement, Nancy began to climb the trunk. Soon she was lost to view among the branches. A few seconds later the men heard her cry out.

“What is it?” one of them called up.

Nancy’s excited voice came back. “I’ve found a clue!”

CHAPTER XIII

A Surprising Command

“I’VE FOUND the hiding place of that puppeteer!” Nancy exclaimed from her perch in the tree.

“What’s up there?” asked Officer Clancy. “Wait until I pick up the clues. I’ll show them to you,” Nancy replied.

There was silence for a minute or two, then Nancy started down the tree.

“Will you catch these—and please be careful of them,” she called to the men below.

Through the air floated a piece of black cloth, a jagged square of gray suiting, and several bits of pink tulle.

“What in creation are these?” Officer Smith asked in amazement.

When Nancy reached the ground she explained. “The man we were trying to catch last night wore a long black-hooded robe. I’m sure this is a piece torn from it. The gray one is from his suit.”

“But he certainly wasn’t wearing pieces of pink net,” Officer Clancy spoke up.

Nancy grinned. She was pretty sure these men knew nothing about the dancing puppet. For this reason, she merely answered, “Chief McGinnis will understand. Please give these to him. Have you something in which to wrap the pieces?”

“Yes,” Officer Clancy replied, “in the car.”

Officer Smith opened the door and brought out a waterproof bag. He drópped the evidence into it and promised to take the bits of cloth at once to Chief McGinnis.

“Please ask him to let me know if he tracks down the owner of the gray suit,” Nancy requested.

“Righto,” Officer Clancy said, as the men started to drive off.

Relieved that a valuable clue had made the officers’ visit worth while, Nancy returned to the house. She entered the kitchen, smiling broadly.

At once Bess and George wanted to know what had happened. “You haven’t caught the villain, have you?” Bess asked teasingly.

“I wish I had, but I did find a piece of his suit and his black robe. The puppet left a clue too. I sent the police a piece of her tulle skirt.”

As Nancy paused and sniffed the aroma of muffins in the oven, George said, “Don’t stop there. Go on with your story.”

“Tell you what,” said Nancy. “I’ll trade the whole story for a good breakfast.”

“It’s a bargain,” said Bess, giggling, as she opened the oven door and took out a pan of blueberry muffins.

“Umm, they look delicious,” said Nancy, and helped remove them from the pans to a warm plate.

Soon the three girls were seated in the dining room enjoying sliced oranges and bananas, crisp bacon, and muffins. Nancy had just finished briefing her friends on what had happened while the police were there, when Emmet Calhoun stalked into the room.

“Good morning, ladies,” he said jovially. “Prithee, fair maidens, extend a hungry man a crust to lift his spirits.”

The three girls chuckled and invited him to sit down. Bess said she would get some oranges and bananas for him.

“Aren’t you up pretty early for an actor?” George needled him. “Especially for someone who stayed out all night?”

Emmet Calhoun blinked. “You knew I was away?” When George nodded, he went on, “Friends from town phoned that they had news of a possible role for me in
King Richard III
and would pick me up late. I stayed with them overnight, but in order to get a ride back, I had to come early.”