Mystery of Crocodile Island (2 page)

“Oh, stop!” Bess begged.

Mr. Drew grinned. “But I’m not finished. In this country crocs were formerly found around the southernmost tip of Florida, but because so many people went to live on Key Biscayne, the crocs moved into the Everglades. They have webbed feet and can walk on soft ground.”

“How fast can they run?” George asked.

“Very fast. Like horses!”

“Forget it!” Bess declared. “I’m staying home. Who wants to be eaten?”

“American crocodiles occasionally do attack animals and people,” Mr. Drew admitted. “A croc can twist a large animal to pieces by seizing one part of it, then turning rapidly in the water.”

George grimaced. “I think I agree with Bess!”

“Don’t worry,” Mr. Drew said. “You probably won’t meet any wild crocs. What I’m talking about is a farm where they’re bred in captivity. There’s a mystery connected with the place that I hope you girls can solve.”

“What kind of mystery?” George asked.

“I’ll tell you in a minute.” Mr. Drew looked at the shoe box. “I see you did the errand, George. Thank you very much. I thought you girls might want to study a rubber crocodile to get acquainted with its looks.”

He rose and walked over to the table and removed the lid. George suggested that he lift the box and tap the bottom. He did, and once more the baby crocodile wiggled its tail and opened and closed its jaws.

“This is certainly a good imitation,” Mr. Drew remarked. He sat down again and went on with his story. “Mr. Gonzales has stock in the crocodile farm, which is called Crocodile Ecology Company. He doesn’t live or work there, however. He’s a silent partner, so to speak.

“Recently he has become suspicious that the business arrangements on the island are not what they should be, and that his partners are up to something dishonest.”

Nancy asked, “And this Mr. Gonzales has requested that we investigate Crocodile Island?”

“That’s right,” her father replied. “However, he doesn’t want his partners to know it, so you girls are not to visit his home or his office, or even phone him. Roger Gonzales is afraid his partners are spying on him, and in some way may find out he’s starting an investigation.”

Mr. Drew told the girls they should pretend to be just tourists. “I’d even suggest that while you’re there you act like silly young girls, so that the Crocodile Ecology people won’t catch on. The last thing you want them to know is that you all have high detective IQ’s.”

Bess laughed. “That’ll be easy enough for me. I can act silly any time, but Nancy will really have to play the part.”

Mr. Drew asked to be excused. “I must get back to my office for another case.”

After he had gone, the telephone rang and Nancy hurried to answer it in the hall.

“Is this the Drew home?” a man’s voice asked.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“The River Heights Trick Shop. I want to speak to the girl who bought the crocodile.”

Nancy motioned to George and handed her the receiver.

“Hello?” George said.

“Are you the girl who bought the crocodile?”

“Yes. Why?”

“You’re in great danger!” the man told her. “The boy who was working here gave you a live one by mistake.”

“What!” George cried out.

“Bring it back right away,” the man ordered. “If you don’t, the police will arrest you!”

George was aghast. She could be put in jail for five years or be fined twenty thousand dollars!

Nancy, who had overheard the conversation, looked toward the box on the table. Her father had not bothered to put the lid on after examining the crocodile. Now the reptile was climbing out of the container!

It opened its jaws wide. Though the crocodile was only a baby, there was no doubt about its viciousness. It could easily snap off someone’s finger!

Just then the other girls in the room noticed that the crocodile had escaped from its container. As Nancy dashed toward it, George froze and Bess screamed in fear!

 

 

 

MRS. Hannah Gruen, the Drews’ housekeeper, heard the commotion and rushed in from the kitchen. By now the baby crocodile lay at the edge of the table, making low hissing sounds.

Hannah backed away in alarm, even though she usually had plenty of courage when confronted with a crisis. A middle-aged woman, she had brought Nancy up after Mrs. Drew’s death, when Nancy was three years old. Since then kindly Mrs. Gruen had fostered the girl’s natural instinct to face danger without flinching.

“Wh—what on earth is going on here?” Hannah asked.

Before anyone could answer, Nancy’s bullterrier Togo slipped into the room behind the housekeeper. As soon as he spied the little reptile, he began to bark wildly. He jumped up in the air, trying to reach the crocodile with his paws.

“Don’t hurt it!” Nancy exclaimed. She grabbed Togo by his collar and tried to keep him from nipping the little creature.

“I’ll take Togo,” Hannah offered.

Nancy walked up to the table and turned the shoe carton on its end. Then, with the lid, she gently pushed the crocodile back toward it. Apparently the dog’s barking and yapping had frightened it, and the little reptile willingly crawled into the box.

“Thank goodness!” Hannah Gruen said with a sigh of relief as Nancy put the lid back on.

“I’m glad that’s over!” Bess added. “If one little baby can scare us like that, what’ll we do when we get to a farm full of great big crocs?”

Mrs. Gruen laughed. “No doubt the reptiles are kept in pits and can’t get out,” she said. “Don’t worry, Bess.”

Togo continued to bark and jump, so Nancy led him outside and put him in his run. The dog had helped her many times in her detective work, which had started with
The Secret of the Old Clock.
Recently she had unraveled
The Strange Message in the Parchment.

Meanwhile, Hannah had found a sturdy cord to secure the shoe box. When Nancy returned to the living room, she suggested that the three girls go downtown and deliver the baby crocodile to its owner.

“I second the motion,” Bess said. “The sooner we get this creature out of here, the better I’ll like it!”

When they reached the store, Bess stayed in the car, while Nancy and George went inside the shop. The owner, Noly Reareck, greeted the girls with a look of relief.

“You have no idea what a load you’ve taken off my mind,” he said. “You see, I have a license to keep Crocky as a pet and have agreed to keep it in suitable surroundings and never to abuse it, kill it, or sell its hide.”

Mr. Reareck explained that it was unfortunate the little reptile had been sold to George. “I had to go to the post office,” he said, “and asked a neighborhood boy to watch the shop for a few minutes. He decided to play a joke on me. Instead of selling you a rubber crocodile that can be made to wiggle and open its mouth, he gave you my pet. It’s a good thing you told him it was for Carson Drew, or I wouldn’t have been able to trace it. I’m mighty relieved that Crocky didn’t bite anyone.”

Bess, who was waiting in the car, wondered why the girls did not come back and walked into the shop. George explained about the switching of the crocodiles, then Nancy asked Mr. Reareck where the young reptile had come from.

“Crocodile Island in Florida,” he said.

The girls looked at one another in amazement.

“Crocodile Island?” Bess blurted out. “Why, that’s where—”

She stopped suddenly because George stepped on her toes. Nancy was relieved. If Mr. Reareck had any connection with Crocodile Island, she did not want him to know about the girls’ mission.

The three thanked the shop owner and left. Nancy dropped Bess and George off at their homes, then returned to her own house. With Hannah Gruen looking on and offering advice from time to time, Nancy chose a wardrobe to take on the trip. Among her summer clothes were two bathing suits, a terry-cloth beach robe, and a jump suit.

After she finished packing, Nancy learned from Hannah that her father had come home. She went into his room, where he was reading.

“Dad,” she said, “Mr. Reareck told us that he got his pet from Crocodile Island. It would be a good idea if you could find out if he has any connection with the Crocodile Ecology Company other than just having bought Crocky.”

Her father promised to do so. “I’m glad you told me.”

The next day Nancy and her friends climbed into a plane bound for New York, where they would change for a nonstop flight to Miami. After they landed in New York, the girls hurried into the huge airport building and up to a counter to arrange for seats on their jet to Florida.

The clerk smiled at Nancy and said, “You are Miss Nancy Drew?”

“Yes, I am.”

“We received a message that you are to get in touch with your father at once. It’s possible your trip will be canceled.”

Puzzled, Nancy hurried to a phone and was soon talking to Mr. Drew. “Is something wrong, Dad?” she asked, worried.

The lawyer replied that his friend Roger Gonzales had called him to say that his suspicions about the Crocodile Ecology Company had been unfounded. “He told me there is no need for legal or protective action,” Mr. Drew explained, “and he has canceled your motel reservations.”

Nancy was stunned by the news, but before she could express her dismay, Mr. Drew went on, “I’m afraid that Roger was forced to make that call, and needs help. That’s why you should go ahead with your trip. But don’t get in touch with him until you hear from me.

“I have arranged for you to stay at the home of friends of mine, named Mr. and Mrs. Henry Cosgrove in Key Biscayne. They have a sixteen-year-old son, Danny, who’s an excellent sailor and familiar with the keys. He can take you around in their motorboat. I’m sure he’ll be of great help to you in your sleuthing.”

“Oh, good,” Nancy said. “I’m glad we don’t have to give up the trip.”

Mr. Drew urged his daughter and her friends to be very careful.

“We will,” Nancy promised, then asked, “Have you had a chance to speak to Mr. Reareck?”

“Yes. He saw an ad in the paper about the Crocodile Ecology Farm and wrote to them, ordering the pet. He doesn’t know the partners or anything about them, Well, good-by, dear, and have a great time.”

When Nancy joined Bess and George, they were worried about the turn of events.

“Do you suppose,” Bess asked, “that somehow the people on Crocodile Island found out that we were coming, and that you’re an amateur detective, Nancy?”

“That’s possible,” Nancy replied. “Anyway, since Dad wants us to go ahead, let’s get our seat numbers.”

The girls did, then went to the lounge and settled on three seats away from other waiting passengers to discuss what they would do when they reached Key Biscayne.

George said, “Perhaps we should disguise ourselves with wigs and quick-tanning lotions. Bess could become a brunette, I could be a blond, and Nancy a gray-haired old lady.”

“Thanks.” Nancy laughed. “It would be fun, but the suspects on Crocodile Island have never seen us before. What good would a disguise be?”

After a few moments’ thought, Bess spoke up. “You’re right, they haven’t seen us. But they evidently know who we are. Do you think it would be safer if we changed our names? We could use pseudonyms when necessary.”

“What names do you suggest?” George asked.

Nancy smiled. “Suppose I call myself Anne, and Bess can be Elizabeth, and George—”

Quickly George interrupted her. “Not Georgia!” she exclaimed.

Bess laughed. Georgia was her cousin’s real name, but she would never allow anyone to call her by it.

“I’ll be Jackie,” George declared.

The girls discussed a last name and finally decided on Boonton, which was Mrs. Marvin’s maiden name.

Nancy looked at her watch. “I’ll have time to phone Dad and tell him our new names. He can inform Mr. Gonzales.”

When she returned, George said. “Okay, Anne. Our section of seats has been called to board. Let’s go!”

Bess grinned. “Oh, Jackie, dear,” she said, “You have such brilliant ideas!”

The girls entered the giant airliner in a happy mood, and sat down side by side. During the flight they teased one another, using their assumed names. They passed part of the time reading magazines and eating a delicious lunch.

In the middle of the afternoon they arrived in Miami and went to the baggage-claim area. As they retrieved their suitcases, a young man walked up to them.

“Pardon me,” he said, “but are you the girls who are visiting the Cosgroves?”

“That’s right,” George said. “And you?”

“My name is Steven. They sent me to drive you to their house. We’ll get a porter and have him bring your bags.”

Steven led them to a beautiful gold-colored car.

“Does this belong to the Cosgroves?” Nancy asked.

“No, it’s mine,” he said and opened the doors for them.

“It’s yummy,” Bess remarked and plopped into the cream-colored, velvety back seat. George climbed in next to her, while Nancy rode in front with Steven.

On the way the girls admired the sprawling, large homes and the glistening bay. Steven, who was not very talkative, answered their questions merely with a yes or no, so after a while they gave up including him in their conversation.

He drove over the causeway and through Key Biscayne. At last they came to an area of beautiful homes that occupied large pieces of property. Steven turned into a long driveway and approached an elegant mansion. He stopped at the front door and offered to carry the bags up to the girls’ rooms.

Nancy rang the bell. The door was opened by a middle-aged couple.

“You must be Nancy Drew,” the woman said. She was cordial but did not smile. “And these are your friends, Bess and George.”

Nancy nodded and asked, “And you are Mr. and Mrs. Cosgrove?”