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Authors: Carolyn G. Keene

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BOOK: The Strange Message in the Parchment
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The girls raced down the driveway to the rear of the property, where there was a hedge. Nancy’s jacket lay on the ground in front of it! Togo pulled it along the ground, growling all the time.
Nancy picked it up. “Togo, you’re marvelous! You scared that girl into discarding the jacket when you took a piece out of her skirt!”
“Let’s go on!” Junie urged. “Maybe we can catch her.”
The girls parted the hedge and went through. The thief was not in sight. Trying to guess which direction she had taken, they ran into the adjoining yard. Here the two searchers separated, one going along the left side of the house, the other to the right.
Within a few seconds they met on the front sidewalk and looked up and down the street. There was no sign of the person they wanted.
Nancy heaved a sigh. “Anyway,” she said, “I’m thankful to have my beautiful jacket back. And Togo got a good clue we can take to the police.”
The little dog was jumping and barking. Junie looked puzzled.
“Togo is asking for further instructions from me,” Nancy explained. She leaned over and patted him once more. “He’s eager to continue the case. I—”
Nancy stopped speaking abruptly when Togo barked again. This time he leaped to the pavement and ran alongside a car that was speeding down the street.
“What’s Togo doing that for?” Junie asked. Without replying, Nancy started running also. Her first thought was to keep Togo from being killed if the driver, either accidentally or deliberately, swerved and hit him.
“Togo, come backl” she cried out.
The little dog paid no attention. Suddenly Nancy caught a glimpse of the young woman on the passenger side and realized why. The dress matched the sample Togo had snatched from the thief’s skirt!
The car’s driver, evidently sensing the situation, put on speed. Out of breath, Nancy stopped. She was in time to catch the number on the license plate and memorize it. Togo had given up the chase, too, and returned to Nancy on the sidewalk.
“Thank you, Togo,” she said, hugging him. “Now we’ll go.”
Junie hurried up to them and was told of Nancy’s discovery. She was astounded at the rapidity with which clues were mounting.
“All you have to do,” she said, “is report the license number to the police. They’ll learn who the car’s owner is, the name of his passenger, and catch the thief.”
“I hope it will be that easy,” Nancy said. “But—”
“But what?” Junie asked.
“The driver may not be the owner of the car.”
“You mean, he might have stolen it?”
“Right. If he did, he’ll probably abandon it. Another possibility is that the driver does not know his passenger. She could have hitchhiked and not given her name.”
Junie’s look of hope faded. “And here I thought it would be easy. Well, it may still be. Let’s think positive, Nancy, and go to the police with a report.”
CHAPTER II
Triple Creek Farm
 
 
 
“LET’s go back to the house first and get my car,” Nancy suggested. “It’s some distance to the police station. Then we’ll show Chief McGinnis the shred from the thief’s dress and the jacket. He’s a good friend of mine.”
Junie asked, “What can the police find out from the jacket?”
“Sometimes they discover the most amazing facts about the person who wore a garment.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, the blood type, kind of skin, height, weight, male or female—”
By this time her friend from Triple Creek Farm was laughing. “Don’t tell me any more. I’m lost already.”
When they reached the house, Nancy took Togo inside and told Hannah where they were going. Then, taking along the new jacket, Nancy backed her sleek blue car out of the garage and drove to headquarters. Chief McGinnis greeted the girls enthusiastically.
“Nancy, I know you have come to tell me about a mystery. I see it in your eyes. What is it this time?”
Nancy grinned, then introduced Junie. She told the middle-aged, good-natured man she was trying to track down a thief.
“Junie brought me this beautiful jacket from her father’s sheep farm, but a short while later, a girl sneaked into our house and stole it.”
Chief McGinnis looked puzzled. “You say
this
jacket was stolen?”
“It was. But we got it back.” Nancy told him about the whole incident and produced the piece of material from the thief’s skirt. Her eyes twinkled. “You see, Chief McGinnis, I even have Togo trained to be a detective.”
“He’s very clever. Maybe you ought to put him into our Canine Corps!” the chief replied. Then he promised to alert his men and have them track down the thief, using the shred of cloth she had brought as a clue. Nancy told him the license number of the car in which the girl had escaped.
“I’ll trace it at once,” Chief McGinnis said.
Nancy explained that the thief had actually worn the coat and run in it for several blocks. “Then she saw a policeman ahead, and Togo was close to her heels. So she threw the jacket onto a hedge. Do you think you might find any clues to her from this?”
“I don’t know. But if you’ll leave it here, together with the cloth, I’ll have our lab inspect them carefully.”
Nancy thanked the officer and the two girls said good-by. That evening Mr. Drew was amazed to hear the story, and wondered how the thief had entered their home. Nobody could explain it and for several seconds there was silence in the living room, where the family had gathered with their guest.
Suddenly Togo, who had been lying on the floor with his ears cocked, jumped up, stood on his hind legs, and walked around.
Junie laughed. “How cute!” she remarked. “Not only is he a detective dog, but a trick dog!”
Nancy explained that there was more to the gesture than that. Whenever Togo was trying to convey a message to anyone in the family, he would do this. The little dog now dropped to all fours and hurried to the front door. Nancy followed and asked the others to join her.
As they watched, Togo got up again on his hind legs and held the handle of the door in his fore-paws. Next he put his teeth around the handle and presto! the door opened. The Drews and Junie looked at the animal in astonishment.
“You little scamp!” Nancy said to him. “You’re the one that left the door open so the thief could come in!”
Togo acted very pleased with himself. He danced around some more and gave several short barks.
“That was a neat trick,” Mr. Drew remarked, “but I think we’ll have to put an extra lock on the door. One that Togo can’t reach and open for burglars.”
Togo seemed to understand. His tail dropped, a sad look came to his eyes, and he lay down.
As Nancy patted him, she told her father about the invitation to Triple Creek Farm. “Bess and George and also Ned, Dave, and Burt are to be invited for a house party up there.”
The lawyer’s eyes twinkled. “With a mystery to solve and a house party included, I don’t see how you could refuse.”
Nancy kissed her father, then immediately went to call her friends and give them the exciting invitation. Nancy would go ahead with Junie; the other guests were to follow later.
While she was on the phone, Mr. Drew said to Junie with boyish pride, “I have a few sheepskins of my own. Come with me and I’ll show them to you.”
He led her into his study. Between bookcases and pictures hung framed diplomas. One was from high school, another from college, and the third and most impressive was from law school.
“I see you graduated from all three places with honors,” Junie said. “My congratulations!”
“Thank you,” the lawyer replied. “The other day we were discussing the laws governing the ownership of sheep in your state. If you have a flock and any of the sheep are killed by wild animals, will the state reimburse the owner for his loss?”
“Yes,” Junie replied. “And wild dogs are also classed under the heading of wild animals. It has always amazed me how dogs differ. Wild dogs will kill sheep and eat them, but those that have been reared from puppies by human beings love the sheep. They guard them and take care of them. We have several sheep dogs at the farm. My favorite is Rover.”
The conversation was interrupted by Nancy, who reported that all of their friends would be able to visit Triple Creek Farm.
“Bess and George can make it next weekend,” she said, “but the boys are uncertain when they can come. They’ll try to visit at the same time as the girls.”
Nancy went on to say that her friend Ned Nickerson had told her about an interesting artist who lived in the vicinity of Triple Creek Farm. She asked Junie if she had ever heard of Vincenzo Caspari.
Junie shook her head. “I never have, but my parents may know him. Why did Ned mention him?”
“I was telling Ned about the strange phone call regarding the parchment. He said this man might be able to help us.”
The girls went to bed early and were up at seven o’clock, packing their bags. By nine they drove off, with good wishes from Mr. Drew and Hannah Gruen. They took turns driving Nancy’s car, since it was a long ride. Afternoon shadows were lengthening as the travelers finally reached the six-hundred acre Triple Creek Farm.
“What a wonderful place!” Nancy exclaimed, as Junie turned into a long lane that led to the farmhouse.
Though the building had many wings and extensions in every direction, it was attractive and inviting. Mr. and Mrs. Flockhart were there to welcome the girls.
The owner was a large, handsome man with graying hair. Nancy thought his beautiful gray eyes looked as if they had stars
shining
in them.
Junie’s mother was small and dainty. Although her daughter resembled her, Junie was already half a head taller than Mrs. Flockhart.
After making Nancy feel very much at home in the roomy, comfortable house, which was furnished with beautiful antique
furniture,
Mr. Flockhart tweaked Junie’s chin. “It’s high time you got home, young lady,” he said. “The lambs are crying for you.”
Junie laughed and explained to Nancy that she worked for her father. Her job was to look after the newborn sheep. These were kept in a special barn with individual stalls, so they would not be endangered by other animals.
As the group walked into the living room, Nancy noticed a framed, glass-covered picture hanging over the fireplace mantel. It measured about twelve by twenty inches.
“Is this the mystery picture?” she asked.
“Yes,” Mr. Flockhart replied. “Nancy, it’s all yours to solve. We’ve given up.”
“But let’s not start now,” Mrs. Flockhart begged. “Dinner is ready.”
After the meal was over, Nancy looked at the parchment paintings again. The first of the four was of a beautiful woman; the second a young man with his back to the viewer. Nancy was intrigued by the third picture. It portrayed a group of angels surrounded by clouds. The figure in the center was holding an infant. The last painting depicted a collision between a steamer and a sailing vessel.
Junie and her father had walked up behind Nancy. “What thoughts are going through your mind, young lady?” Mr. Flockhart asked. “I’ve never had the pleasure of being this close to a detective in action before. I’d be interested in hearing your ideas.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t much to offer at the moment,” Nancy said. “My first reaction is that the picture tells a story about a family. There was happiness in the beginning, but then tragedy struck. I think there is a connection between the second and last paintings. Perhaps something happened to the man at the time of the accident.”
“Do you have an inkling of what the strange message might be?” Junie queried.
“I haven’t the faintest notion,” the girl detective replied, “but give me a little time. When I’m on a case, the facts are foremost in my mind. I refer to them off and on. My best thinking hours seem to be late at night or early in the morning.
“By the way, Mr. Flockhart, have you met an artist named Vincenzo Caspari, who lives in this area?”
The answer was no, and Junie’s father asked why Nancy wanted to know.
“Ned Nickerson thought he might be able to help us,” she said.
Mr. Flockhart went to the phone and called the artist. A woman who answered said Mr. Caspari would be out of town for a few days.
“I’ll call again,” Mr. Flockhart said.
Nancy and Junie were weary from their long ride and retired early. The following morning they dressed in shirts and jeans, had a quick breakfast, then went to the barn where the newborn lambs were. Nancy fell in love with each baby as she came to it.
Suddenly she exclaimed, “Why, here’s a pure black one lying down! Isn’t he darling?”
The man in charge walked up to the girls, and Junie introduced him as Finney.
“Something happened to this poor little fellow,” he reported. “Maybe he got stepped on. Anyway, he can’t stand up. I guess we’ll have to send him over to the slaughterhouse.”
“Not yet,” said Junie quickly. “Let me look at him.”
She entered the stall. As Nancy and Finney watched her, she manipulated the lamb’s legs, massaging them, then rubbing the little animal’s body. To the onlookers’ amazement the little black lamb stood up and bleated
“Baa!”
“Well, I’ll be—he’s gonna be all rightl” Finney exclaimed.
“I think he will be,” Junie said jubilantly, watching the black lamb closely. Then she explained to Nancy that she had had some training in animal massage.
Nancy had noticed that outside there was a great deal of activity, carts and trucks going in both directions. Most of them contained full-grown sheep. Wishing to watch this part of the operation more closely, she walked out of the barn. Junie followed.
Just then a high-powered car roared around the corner of the barn, put on speed, and headed in the girl’s direction. The driver made no attempt to swerve out of their path.
BOOK: The Strange Message in the Parchment
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