The Secret of the Old Clock - Carolyn Keene [36]
“Gone!” Nancy groaned. “Oh dear! Has my luck run out?”
Could it be, she wondered, that the Tophams had discovered the notebook only to destroy it? Nancy discarded this thought as quickly as it came to mind, for she recalled the conversation she had overheard between Ada and Isabel. No, the Tophams were as ignorant as herself concerning the location of a later will.
It was more likely that Abby Rowen had been confused in her story. After all, she had not declared that the notebook would be found inside the clock. Nancy herself had made the deduction.
“I was almost certain I’d find the notebook,” she murmured in disappointment. But a moment later she took heart again. “It must be here somewhere,” she told herself.
Turning the clock upside down, Nancy gave it a hard shake. Something inside moved. Hopefully she repeated the action.
“Unless I’m wrong,” Nancy thought excitedly, “there’s something inside this clock besides the works!” She examined it more closely. “An extra piece of cardboard back of the face! And something in between the two! The notebook maybe!”
After a vain attempt to remove the heavy cardboard face with her fingers, Nancy took a small screw driver from the glove compartment. With the tool it required but an instant to remove the two hands of the clock and jerk off the face.
As the cardboard fell to the floor, Nancy peered inside and gave a low cry of joy.
There, at one side of the clock, attached to a hook in the top, dangled a tiny dark-blue notebook!
CHAPTER XVI
The Capture
EAGERLY Nancy removed the little notebook from the hook. By holding the book directly under the beam of her flashlight, she could make out the words on the cover:
Property of Josiah Crowley.
“I’ve found it at last!” she thought excitedly.
Quickly turning the first few pages, she saw that they were yellowed with age. The writing was fine and cramped, and the ink had faded. The pages were crowded with business notations, and it was difficult to make out the words.
Nancy was thrilled, for she was positive that the notebook would disclose what Josiah Crowley had done with his last will. Yet, she realized that she could not hope to read through the book without a considerable loss of precious time. She must not delay another instant in reporting to the police.
“I’ll read the notebook later,” she decided, and tucked it into her pocket. Then she put the clock together.
Hurriedly laying the timepiece back on the car seat, Nancy covered it with her coat and slid behind the wheel. Starting the engine, she swung the convertible onto the highway. Nancy cast an anxious glance in the direction the thieves had taken, and watched for side roads down which the men might turn to avoid the main highway.
“Perhaps I’d better phone the State Police from the first service station or store I come to.”
Then suddenly she noticed a sign: Alternate route to Garwin. Main road under repair.
Reaching the intersection, she stopped to see if the familiar tire marks of the van indicated it had turned onto this dirt road. It had!
“Now what shall I do?”
As Nancy debated, she saw a car coming toward her. Her hopes soared. She could not be mistaken—it was a police prowl car with a red revolving roof light!
Instantly Nancy grabbed her own flashlight and jumped from the car. Standing at the side of the road, she waved her light and in a few minutes the police sedan stopped.
“I’m Nancy Drew,” she said hurriedly to the two men inside. “Are you looking for the furniture thieves in the van?”
“Yes, we are. You’re the girl who reported them?”
Nancy nodded, then pointed down the side road. “I think those are their tire marks. The men were at the Black Horse Inn, but left.”
“You can identify them?” the driver asked.
“Oh, yes.”
“Then please follow us. I’ll radio for a car to approach the thieves’ van from the other end of the road.”
The police car sped