XXV
Captured
Nathan Gombet’s shifty eyes roved to the door, and, suddenly, he made a spring for it. One of the deputies caught him roughly by the arm and dragged him back.
“Oh, no, you don’t!”
“Handcuff him,” the sheriff ordered.
The miser saw that escape was cut off entirely. As the realization came over him, he wilted and offered little resistance when the handcuffs were snapped upon his wrists.
Nancy immediately lost interest in the miser and ran to her father. Frantically she began to work at the ropes which bound him to the chair.
“Oh, Dad!” she murmured brokenly, “are you hurt?”
“I’ll be all right,” Carson Drew forced a wan smile. “Couldn’t have stood it much longer, though. If you hadn’t come just when you did—”
With the aid of one of the deputies who had a knife, Nancy quickly cut the ropes and set her father free. In relief he stretched his cramped limbs.
Slowly getting upon his feet, he took a step forward and would have collapsed had Nancy not helped him. Wearily, he sank down upon the chair again.
“Legs feel paralyzed,” he complained.
“Don’t you want me to call a doctor?” Nancy asked, as she began to rub the cramped muscles.
Carson Drew shook his head.
“No, I’ll be all right after a while. I’m just weak. If only I could have a glass of water! That fiend hasn’t given me anything to eat or drink for more than twenty-four hours. My throat is parched.”
“I’ll get you a drink!” Nancy cried.
She darted from the room and hurried downstairs to the kitchen. Pumping a cold drink of water at the sink, she paused only long enough to step to the outside door and call Rosemary and Floretta Turnbull, who were still waiting anxiously in the roadster. They came in response to her summons, and followed her upstairs.
“Tell us everything, Dad,” Nancy begged, as she gave her father the glass of water.
Carson Drew set down the tumbler which he had emptied at one draught and fastened his eyes upon Nathan Gombet.
“That man induced me to come here by trickery,” he explained, a hard glint coming into his eyes. “He has tortured me here for several days trying to force me to sign over money to him.”
“Well, he won’t try any more of his tricks,” the sheriff broke in. “We’ll have him behind prison bars inside of twenty minutes.” He turned to the prisoner. “What have you to say for yourself?”
“Nothing,” Gombet muttered sullenly.
“Do you admit that you were trying to get money which did not belong to you?” Carson Drew questioned sharply.
Nathan Gombet did not reply.
“You’ll talk all right when we get you to the station,” the sheriff told him harshly. “It’s no use to deny your guilt. You were caught in the act.” He picked up a piece of paper from the table and glanced at it. “Is this the agreement he was trying to force you to sign, Mr. Drew?”
The lawyer nodded.
“Yes, he wanted me to turn over a large sum of money and then promise not to prosecute.”
The sheriff folded the paper and put it in his pocket.
“I’ll just keep this for evidence.”
“And don’t forget, he tried to force us from our home,” Rosemary Turnbull broke in. “We intend to file a charge against him.”
“I didn’t mean no harm,” Gombet grunted.
“Oh, no,” Rosemary retorted sarcastically. “I suppose those nightly visits of yours were merely friendly calls.”
“I thought I saw an easy way to make a little money. I offered to buy your house.”
“Yes—at your price,” Floretta sniffed.
“It was a cowardly trick—to try to cheat two women,” Carson Drew observed.
“He nearly succeeded, too,” Rosemary declared feelingly. “If it hadn’t been for Nancy Drew, we would have been forced to give up our home. We couldn’t have stood it there another day.”
For some time Nancy had remained silent, but now she turned to the old miser.
“When did you first discover the hidden staircase?” she questioned curiously.
Nathan hesitated as though debating whether or not to tell.
“You’d better make a clean breast of everything. It will go easier with you if you do,” the sheriff warned him.
“It was two months ago,” Nathan muttered. “Found the hidden spring by accident.”
“You explored the staircase and discovered that it led to the Turnbull mansion?”
Gombet nodded.
“How many openings are there into this house?”
“Only the one in the room where I keep my birds.”
“There’s one more thing I want to know,” Nancy continued. “It was you who sent me the threatening note, warning me not to come to the Turnbull mansion, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, I sent it,” the man grunted.
“How did you learn that I was going there?”
“Hid in the staircase and heard the old ladies talking about the letter you’d sent.”
“Just as I suspected. And now where are the things you took from their house?”
“What things?”
“Oh, you needn’t pretend,” Floretta broke in, enraged. “You took our silver urn and a diamond pin.”
“And a pocketbook and a silver spoon, to say nothing of Floretta’s silk dresses,” Rosemary added severely.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, yes you do,” Nancy told him quietly. “It won’t do you any good to deny it, for we intend to search the house from cellar to garret. You may as well tell us what you have done with the things.”
Nathan Gombet debated the question silently and then muttered reluctantly:
“You’ll find ’em in my room.”
“Which room is that?”
“Straight across the hall.”
Nancy hurried from the room without waiting for more. Rosemary and Floretta followed her eagerly. As they flung open the door of the bedroom they gave a little cry of pleasure, for on the dresser stood the silver urn.
“What a relief!” Rosemary cried, rushing forward and snatching it up. “It’s a wonder he didn’t try to dispose of it.”
Floretta, who had been investigating the closet, triumphantly brought out an armload of dresses.
“But where is the diamond pin?” Rosemary demanded. “That is the most valuable of all.”
“Is this it?” Nancy, who had opened a bureau drawer, held up a tiny object.
Eagerly, Floretta reached for it.
“That’s it. Oh, I’m so glad.”
“And here is the spoon,” Nancy continued, removing it from the drawer. “And the pocketbook. The money is gone though.”
“Oh, we don’t care about that,” Rosemary said quickly. “There wasn’t much in the pocketbook, anyway.”
“Then everything is here,” Nancy declared.
Armed with the booty, the three returned to the chamber across the hall and disclosed their findings.
“It’s a clear case of theft, all right,” the sheriff said, as he examined the articles. “We’ll take this fellow to jail and lock him up. He’s a dangerous character and ought not to be at large.”
“How about the negress?” Nancy questioned.
“She is an accomplice,” Mr. Drew put in. “Take her along.”
The sheriff grasped Nathan Gombet roughly by the arm and shoved him toward the door. Two of the deputies helped Carson Drew downstairs.
The old miser and the negress were put into the police car, and the sheriff and his men drove away, leaving Nancy and her father to say goodbye to the Turnbull sisters.
“We’ll see to it that the various openings into the staircase are boarded up,” Rosemary told the lawyer. “With Nathan in jail, we probably will never be bothered again.” She regarded Carson Drew anxiously. “You don’t look a bit well. You’re in no condition to return to River Heights tonight.”
“I think I can make it,” Carson Drew replied.
“Nonsense. You must spend the night at The Mansion. Floretta and I will be delighted to have you. A good rest will do wonders for you. You need a good meal, too.”
“To tell the truth, I don’t feel very strong,” the lawyer admitted. “Are you certain it won’t inconvenience you if I stay?”
“Of course not. What a thing to ask, after all your daughter has done for us! No, it’s all settled. You must stay at The Mansion until you have recovered your strength.”
“And we’ll promise you there will be no ghosts to trouble you,” Floretta added, with a laugh.
So it was decided. Nancy helped her father into the roadster and drove him to The Mansion. As soon as she saw that he was comfortably settled on the sofa, she returned for the Turnbull sisters.
Although Carson Drew had suffered a great deal at the hands of Nathan Gombet, he had received no permanent injury. His strength gradually returned and he began to walk with less difficulty. Food and rest accomplished wonders. After a good night’s rest he appeared at the breakfast table and announced that he felt able to travel.
“Oh, we were hoping you would stay another day,” Floretta said regretfully, after the lawyer had announced his decision to return to River Heights that morning.
“I’m afraid I must go,” the lawyer returned. “My business has been neglected the past week, you know. By the way, have you heard anything more about Nathan Gombet?”
“The entire story is in the morning papers,” Rosemary turned to Nancy with a warm smile. “Haven’t you seen them?”
“Not yet,” Nancy admitted.
“You’re certainly in the limelight,” Floretta told her. “Evidently the reporters learned everything from the sheriff.”
Nancy caught up one of the papers, and as her eye scanned the story on the front page a deep flush crept into her cheeks.
“Mercy! I don’t deserve all the credit!” she protested modestly.
“Indeed, you do,” Rosemary told her firmly. She glanced significantly at Floretta, who nodded firmly. “I hardly know how to begin,” she went on, addressing Nancy with some hesitation. “But I want you to know how much Floretta and I appreciate what you have done for us.”
“I was glad to do what little I could,” Nancy declared graciously. “It was really fun for me. I thoroughly enjoy a mystery—though for a time I thought this one would prove my undoing.”
“We want to reward you for what you did,” Rosemary went on earnestly.
“Oh, I don’t want any reward!” Nancy exclaimed. “You know, we discussed that before.”
“We were afraid you wouldn’t take money,” Floretta sighed.
“So we’ve decided to give you a little gift as a remembrance,” Rosemary continued. “We want you to accept our silver urn.”
“Your urn!” Nancy gasped. “Oh, I couldn’t do that! Why, it’s a valuable heirloom and you prize it highly!”
“We want you to have it,” Floretta insisted stubbornly. “We’ll feel hurt if you don’t take it.”
“It will serve as a reminder of your adventure in The Mansion,” Rosemary coaxed. “Please take it.”
As she spoke she picked up a wrapped package from a table and handed it to Nancy.
“If you insist, I’m afraid I can’t refuse,” Nancy said, as she accepted the urn. “There’s nothing in the world I’d rather have! This will make my second trophy! I’ll keep it on the mantel with the clock!”
After thanking the Turnbull sisters for the gift and for their generous hospitality, Nancy and her father departed. Floretta and Rosemary watched them until they had disappeared down the road.
For a time Nancy and her father rode in silence, and then Carson Drew turned to his daughter with a look of deep admiration in his eyes.
“That was a neat piece of detective work you did,” he said.
“Everything turned out all right,” Nancy admitted. “But when I was going through that dark tunnel the night I discovered it, I told myself I’d never dabble in another mystery as long as I lived if I ever got out of there alive!”
“Do you intend to live up to that?”
“Not if I can help it! Now that you are safe and the mystery is solved, I’m aching for another one. I suppose that’s all the good it will do be, though!”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Mr. Drew smiled. “This affair has won you quite a reputation.”
Indeed, Nancy Drew’s days of adventure were by no means over. Before many months had elapsed she was destined to be involved in another mystery case, equally as baffling as the one she had just solved. Readers who wish to follow her strange adventures may do so in the next volume of this series, entitled The Bungalow Mystery.
But as Nancy Drew drove along the smooth road she had no idea of what was in store for her, and so it was that a semi-melancholy expression settled over her face. Carson Drew, who noticed the look, laughed aloud.
“You’re a true daughter of your old dad all right, Nancy! Pining for another mystery before you’re well out of this one!”
“Oh, I wasn’t pining exactly,” Nancy declared gayly, resolutely shaking off the mood of despondency which had claimed her for the moment. “I just couldn’t help thinking that perhaps this would be my last chance to solve a mystery. And I do enjoy detective work!”
“Don’t worry; opportunity will come knocking at your door sooner than you expect,” her father told her lightly. “A good detective is always in demand.”
“Meaning that I am that?” Nancy demanded, a happy light in her eyes.
Carson Drew nodded and gazed tenderly upon his daughter.
“Meaning that I am mighty proud of you, Nancy. From this day on I intend to turn over my mystery cases to you.” His eyes twinkled mischievously. “As a detective, you have me backed completely off the map!”