Read The Secret of the Forgotten City Online
Authors: Carolyn G. Keene
The Secret of the Forgotten City (2 page)
ads
“It is still a puzzle as to what the history is, but I’ve done the best I could,” Mrs. Wabash replied. “Many symbols could have two or more interpretations. For instance, the mark of a hand with twisting, turning lines emerging from it could have indicated a journey’s end; or it could be the artist’s signature. I have heard you are clever at codes and thought maybe you could solve this mystery.”
As the Indian finished speaking, the phone began to ring. When Nancy answered it, a man’s deep voice said, “Is Mrs. Wabash still there? Yes? Tell her I have her stone tablets and papers and won’t give ’em up. As for you, Miss Drew, don’t try to help her. You’re quick, but you’re no match for Fleetfoot Joe. My spying on Mrs. Wabash has paid off. Now the Great Flying Bird is carrying me away.” The man hung up.
Nancy stood lost in thought for a few moments, then returned to the living room. “Mrs. Wabash,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm, “do you know a Fleetfoot Joe?”
“I’ve heard of him out in Nevada. He’s only part Indian. A bad man. He steals things, then sells them to tourists as old artifacts he claims to have found himself.”
Suddenly Nancy jumped from her chair, excused herself, and hurried to the telephone, repeating the words, “‘The Great Flying Bird.’ Surely that’s an airplane. But is it privately or commercially owned?”
She dialed the number of the River Heights Airport, got the information desk, and asked whether a plane had just left for New York.
“Yes,” was the answer.
“Did anyone make a reservation for someplace in Nevada?”
Nancy waited while the assistant checked. The answer was no, and the woman could not recall from Nancy’s description any passenger who resembled the suspected robber.
The young detective now asked, “Did a private plane take off?”
She was transferred to another office. There she learned that a privately owned plane had left ten minutes earlier. Its destination was St. Louis.
“The owner is named Robert Wapley,” the speaker concluded.
“Thank you,” said Nancy.
Before leaving the phone she called her friend Police Chief McGinnis and gave him a word-for-word account of what had happened since her previous report. He was astounded and said he would get in touch with security officers at the St. Louis airports, public and private.
Then he added, “Great work, Nancy! Well have this Fleetfoot Joe in custody in no time!”
Once more Nancy returned to the living room. Everyone was standing, and Mrs. Wabash was saying good-by.
“Mrs. Wabash,” said Nancy quickly, “what was your real purpose in coming to see me?”
“It’s no use now,” the Indian woman replied. “All the papers and most of the plaques I planned to show you are gone. I have no clues to offer.”
“Clues to what?” Nancy asked.
Mrs. Wabash looked at the girl with tears in her eyes. “Clues to a lost treasure in the Forgotten City.”
CHAPTER II
Safari Plans
EVERYONE in the Drew living room leaned forward in his chair, eagerly awaiting more of Mrs. Wabash’s story.
“There are many, many pictures cut into the stolen tablets,” she said, “but the main theme seems to tell when and where a treasure of gold was hidden. As you know, the ancient Indians in the United States did not use gold to any extent. Probably one reason was that it was too difficult to work with, and their tools were crude.
“It is a great mystery as to the exact nature of this treasure, but from what I can judge, the tablets depict several golden sheets. How big they are, one cannot tell. And when they were made and where they came from is also a mystery.”
Just then someone pounded on the front door, and the bell rang loudly. Puzzled, Nancy went to open the door.
“Hi, Nancy! Surprise!” cried four voices together.
Nancy beamed. Bess Marvin, George Fayne, and their dates were standing there, grinning.
“The surprise is great,” Nancy replied. “Come in. I have a surprise of my own to show you.”
George, a girl who enjoyed her boyish name, walked in first. She was slender and athletic looking and wore her hair short. Bess in contrast was blond with longer hair. She was slightly plump and pretty.
Burt Eddleton, George’s date, was a stocky brunet and one could surmise at a glance that he was a football player. Dave Evans, Bess’s friend, had dark hair and eyes, and though he too was a football player, he had a much slighter build than Burt.
The young people walked into the living room and were introduced to Mrs. Wabash. “I am very glad to meet you,” she replied. Smiling, she added, “I am Nancy’s surprise.”
Ned laughed. “Well, kids, the joke is on us. We thought we were going to keep a secret from Nancy Drew, and I find she’s way ahead of us. She has a wonderful lead.”
“What is it?” George asked eagerly.
Nancy requested Mrs. Wabash to repeat the part of her story she had already told, and then to continue with the rest of it.
“You probably wonder how I happened to come to see Nancy Drew. A friend of mine who sometimes lectures at the University of Nevada, Professor Donald Maguire, has been trying to help me decipher the petroglyphs. The tablets came into my possession a few months ago. We concluded that the pictures indicate that several golden sheets were hidden, probably in the desert.”
Dave spoke. “Mrs. Wabash, have you any idea how old the gold sheets are?”
The woman shook her head. “I am hoping that when they are found, they will contain symbols that will tell us their age and where the gold came from.”
The whole story intrigued Nancy, who wanted to start out at once to hunt for the precious treasure. Each new case fascinated her from the time she first was asked to solve The Secret of the Old Clock through many adventures up to the most recent one,
Mystery of the Glowing Eye.
Mystery of the Glowing Eye.
Mrs. Wabash went on, “Don Maguire heard at the University of Nevada that Nancy was going on a dig out in the desert.”
“I was what?” Nancy interrupted.
The other young people laughed and Ned said, “That was really the surprise we had for you. Some Emerson students and their friends are joining a group from the University of Nevada and going into the desert to search for a forgotten city, or at least some of the artifacts the ancient people may have left.”
Nancy’s eyes sparkled. “How wonderful!” she exclaimed. “You all did manage to keep the secret, and even though I accidentally came upon what may be a clue, you did surprise me. I think this is exciting. When do we leave?”
Ned replied, “We consulted your dad and he said you may go any time, but you will probably want to finish a little job he has given you. He thinks it will take two or three days.”
Mrs. Wabash said, “Professor Don Maguire told me that Nancy is the finest amateur detective in the country, and that is the reason why I came all the way to River Heights to see her.”
She informed Nancy’s friends about the theft of her dictionary and her precious stone tablets and concluded by saying, “I don’t know whether I have an enemy or the thief merely wanted to get hold of the tablets. With them he could try solving the mystery himself and find the gold.
“In any case, I have decided to leave this one tablet with you, Nancy. See what you can figure out, and if you can possibly trace the others, it will make me very happy.”
“Thank you,” said Nancy. “I’ll make a drawing of this plaque and keep the original in a safe place. When I come out to Nevada, I’ll return it to you.”
Before saying good-by the Indian told the young people that a young woman in Nevada named Miss Antler might be of great help to them. “Try to locate her when you get out there.”
Dave offered to drive Mrs. Wabash back to the motel and she accepted. Nancy’s thoughts returned to the tablet, which she picked up to study.
Suddenly the young sleuth wondered if her eyes were deceiving her. A small figure in the lower left-hand corner was glowing. It looked like a scorpion, its head raised high.
“Look, everybody!” Nancy cried out.
As her friends crowded around the tablet, the figure faded. Though Nancy tried hard to explain what she had seen, the others thought the girl detective was joking.
“Nancy Drew, you’re imagining things,” Bess said. “I don’t see a thing there. All those funny little pictures are on the other parts of this tablet.”
No more was said, but Nancy wondered about the strange occurrence. The scorpion did not light up again, but through her magnifying glass, Nancy could see the arachnid plainly. She continued to study the scorpion. Had some trick of the sunlight coming into the room suddenly made it glint? She tried holding the tablet in the exact position she had held it before. Nothing happened.
“What is the thing you saw?” Bess asked.
Nancy shrugged and said she would get a book on wild animal life in the southwestern United States. Presently she came to the conclusion that what she had thought was an arachnid was a chuckwalla, a sixteen-inch lizard, which was harmless, although it looked menacing. She reported this to her friends.
“Here’s something amazing about it,” Nancy said. “The chuckwalla can wedge itself into a crevice and then inflate its body. This makes it almost impossible for an enemy to drag the creature out. By the way, it says here that at one time the chuckwalla was used as food by the Indians.”
“Maybe,” George said, “there was a group who called themselves the Chuckwalla Tribe.”
Afterward, Nancy begged her friends to tell her more about the trip they had planned. Ned explained that it would be a caravan.
“There’ll be trucks, cars, Land Rovers, and even a whole kitchen on a truck chassis.”
George grinned and looked at Bess. “That’s the place for you, cousin. You can cook all the goodies you want.”
“Okay,” Bess retorted. “I’ll fix you. I’ll make a tasty dish just for you and fill it with red peppers!”
The others laughed, and Burt remarked, “I guess that will hold you for a while, George.”
At that moment the young people heard a car turn into the driveway. Mr. Drew was arriving home. In a few minutes the tall, attractive lawyer entered the living room and greeted Nancy and her friends.
When he heard how Nancy had received advance information about the treasure hunt, he laughed. But his smile turned to a frown a little later, when he was told about Fleetfoot Joe and his attack on Mrs. Wabash.
“I’m sorry to hear this,” he said. “Nancy, of course you’ve notified the police.”
“Yes, Dad. They promised to call if there were any leads on the thief, but I haven’t heard from them.”
Ten minutes later Hannah Gruen came into the living room and announced dinner. Everyone went into the dining room, where the housekeeper had set a lovely table.
Nancy gave the motherly housekeeper a hug. “Now I know why you wouldn’t let me in the kitchen,” she said. “How attractively you’ve arranged the flowers! And what a delicious-looking salad!”
This was to be the first course. After everyone was seated, Mr. Drew said grace, then the meal started.
The group was about halfway through dinner when Togo began to bark frantically. He raced from the kitchen through the dining room and into the living room. Here he jumped onto a chair and gave a series of short, quick barks. Then he ran to the front door and barked again insistently. Nancy left her chair and followed him.
“What’s the matter, Togo?” she asked. “Do you hear another dog outside, or is somebody at the door?”
The bell had not rung, but Nancy opened the door and let Togo out. Seeing no one, she was puzzled and ran after Togo.
Suddenly a man’s voice cried out from the darkness, “Don’t follow me! And call off your dog, or I’ll shoot him!”
CHAPTER III
Vanished Guests
WHISTLING loudly and clearly, Nancy hoped Togo would hear her and come back. She called his name, clapped her hands, and whistled some more. The little terrier did not return.
Suddenly she heard a shot. Nancy’s heart sank. Had the dreadful man carried out his threat?
“Oh, it just can’t be true!” she told herself. Again she called loudly, “Togo! Togo! Where are you?”
By this time Nancy’s friends and Mr. Drew had rushed outdoors. They could not see Nancy but could hear her, and set off in the direction from which the sounds came. Finally they reached her.
“What happened? What’s up?” Ned asked.
Quickly Nancy explained and there were murmurs of anger and sympathy. Ned and George had brought flashlights, and now everyone searched for footprints. Apparently the fugitive had been standing in mud, and it was easy to follow the indentations left by his shoes. Right beside them were Togo’s tiny prints. The group hurried on. Finally all the impressions ended at a main road.
Mr. Drew said, “The man must have entered a car here.”
Bess’s eyes were filled with tears. “Do you think he took Togo with him?”
The lawyer said he had no idea, but there was one thing of which he was sure: up to this point the dog had not been shot.
“Let’s hope,” said Bess, “that the man didn’t take Togo away and kill him somewhere else.”
It was a doleful group that walked back to the Drew home. Hannah had prepared a delicious apple-snow pudding with raspberry sauce. Everyone ate it, though there was little conversation.
When everybody had finished, Nancy said she wanted to examine the man’s footprints. From a casual first glance at them, she was sure they would match those that had been left before by Fleetfoot.
Mr. Drew said, “After you do that, I think we’d better call the police, especially if the footprints do match those in our yard.”
All the young people went outdoors, some to follow Nancy and the others to look at the prints at the rear of the Drew home.
“There are good impressions near the hedge,” Nancy told the group, as she beamed her flashlight on the latest series. She was convinced they belonged to the same man, Fleetfoot Joe.
ads
Other books
Lovestruck by Kt Grant
Sweet Nothing by Mia Henry
The Last Queen of England by Steve Robinson
Thornghost by Tone Almhjell
The Middle Kingdom by David Wingrove
Just One Drink by Charlotte Sloan
Looking Glass 4 - Claws That Catch by Ringo, John
What He Didn't Say by Carol Stephenson
Hemingway's Boat by Paul Hendrickson
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest by Stieg Larsson