Password to Larkspur Lane Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  CHAPTER I - Singing Horses

  CHAPTER II - A Golden Clue

  CHAPTER III - A Chase

  CHAPTER IV - Frightened Grandparents

  CHAPTER V - Blue Fire

  CHAPTER VI - Mysterious Morgan

  CHAPTER VII - Unfriendly Keeper

  CHAPTER VIII - Over the Wall!

  CHAPTER IX - Surprises

  CHAPTER X - An Unwelcome Gift

  CHAPTER XI - A Hazardous Drop

  CHAPTER XII - The Crystal Garden

  CHAPTER XIII - Baiting a Thief

  CHAPTER XIV - The Matching Necklace

  CHAPTER XV - Daring Plans

  CHAPTER XVI - Sleuthing

  CHAPTER XVII - Attic Hideout

  CHAPTER XVIII - The Underground Cell

  CHAPTER XIX - Caught!

  CHAPTER XX - The SP

  PASSWORD TO LARKSPUR LANE

  Blue bells will be singing horses! This strange message, attached to the leg of a wounded homing pigeon, involves Nancy Drew in a dangerous mission. Somewhere an elderly woman is being held prisoner in a mansion. Nancy is determined to find and free Mrs. Eldridge.

  While working on the case, the young detective’s close friend, Helen Archer, begs her to solve a weird mystery. Helen’s grandparents, the Cornings, are frightened by a sinister wheel of blue fire that appears after dark in the woods outside their home at lonely Sylvan Lake. When Nancy discovers the significance of the eerie signal, she also learns that her two mysteries are connected.

  How the clever young detective fathoms the meaning of the strange message, how she locates the stronghold of a ruthless ring of swindlers, and how she rescues the gang’s victims makes absorbing and exciting reading.

  “There’s that spooky blue flame again!” Mr. Corning gasped

  Copyright ® 1994, 1966, 1933 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved.

  Published by Grosset & Dunlap, Inc., a member of The Putnam & Grosset Group, New York. Published simultaneously in Canada. S.A.

  NANCY DREW MYSTERY STORIES® is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-07711-5

  2007 Printing

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  CHAPTER I

  Singing Horses

  “IF this were two thousand years ago—!”

  Nancy Drew paused on the flagstone path of her garden in front of a border of beautiful larkspur. For a moment the attractive titian-haired girl of eighteen watched the tall blue plumes waving in the breeze. Then she turned to the middle-aged woman behind her.

  “I must select the very best for the flower show, Hannah,” she said.

  The Drews’ housekeeper and Nancy paused to look up at a passing airplane. They were startled to hear its engines cut out. As Nancy and Hannah watched in alarm, a wounded bird plummeted down and landed among the flowers.

  “A homing pigeon!” Nancy exclaimed, seeing the tiny metal tube attached to its leg. “Maybe the bird’s carrying a message!”

  Hannah Gruen’s eyes were on the plane. “Oh, Nancy!” she gasped. “It’s going to crash!”

  Nancy gazed upward and saw that the twin-engine craft was flying very low. The plane was tan color and had a curious design outlined in black on the fuselage.

  “It looks like a winged horse,” Nancy thought, but she could not be sure, since the sun was shining in her eyes.

  Suddenly the coughing engines roared to life and the plane nosed upward, then zoomed away.

  “Whew!” Hannah exclaimed. “I thought that thing was going to fall right onto our house!”

  “I wonder if the plane hit this pigeon,” Nancy said, and once more turned her attention to the bird, which was panting feebly.

  “You poor dear!” she said, picking it up. Gently Nancy felt for broken bones, but found none. “The pigeon may only be stunned,” she said.

  “What a miracle that it’s alive!” Hannah said.

  Nancy nodded. “I’d better see if the pigeon’s carrying a message. It might be something important that we ought to report to the bird’s owner.”

  While the housekeeper held the pigeon, Nancy removed the top of the capsule on its leg and slid out a thin piece of paper. She unrolled the message and read aloud:“ ‘Trouble here. After five o’clock blue bells will be singing horses. Come tonight.’ ”

  Nancy and Hannah looked at each other in puzzlement. “It’s a strange message,” the housekeeper said. “What in the world does that mean?”

  “I wish I knew,” Nancy replied, “but it sounds urgent—and mysterious.” She slipped the message into her pocket. “I’ll wire the International Federation of American Homing Pigeon Fanciers and give them the number stamped on the bird’s leg ring. All homing pigeons are registered by number so the owners can be traced.”

  She examined the ring containing the digits 2-21-12-12, then hurried off to phone the telegraph office. By the time she returned, Hannah had placed the bird in a cardboard box lined with cotton.

  Nancy brought an eyedropper and with it gave the pigeon water. Then she put some wild-bird seed in the box. “Do get well,” she said softly.

  “How are pigeons trained to carry messages?” Hannah asked as Nancy placed the box on a garage shelf.

  “They have a home loft. No matter where the birds are released, they always fly back there.”

  “Did you ever hear how fast they can fly?”

  “I read about some pigeons who raced from Mexico City to New York, averaging a mile a minute.” Nancy glanced at her watch. “I’d better hurry or I won’t get to the flower show on time.”

  She continued snipping prize larkspurs and putting them in a basket.

  “Before all the excitement began,” said Hannah, “you were saying, ‘If this were two thousand years ago—,’ but you didn’t finish. What did you mean?”

  Nancy smiled. “I was thinking that if I had lived two thousand years ago I might have been a Grecian maiden. And in that case, I might be praying right now in the Temple of Apollo at Delphi. I always imagine flowers around there. Maybe delphinium—that’s another name for larkspur.”

  “What would you be asking for?” said Hannah.

  “That my father’s olive groves would bear extra well, that his vines would be loaded with grapes and his nets heavy with fish every morning.”

  Hannah laughed heartily at the thought of her employer, Carson Drew, the well-known lawyer, picking olives or hauling in a fish-filled net.

  While talking, Nancy and Hannah had been cutting stalks with the finest flowers and before long had a basketful. Nancy took it into the kitchen and carefully fashioned an exquisite arrangement in an old English vase. She carried it to her convertible parked in the circular driveway.

  She thought, “My car was a good-looking one until that horrid man ran into it last week.” Ruefully she surveyed the dent.

  “It’s a strange message, Nancy,” the housekeeper said

  “Good luck with your entry,” Mrs. Gruen said. “Hope it wins a prize!”

  “Hannah, you’re a darling!” Nancy exclaimed and kissed her. The two had deep affection for each other. The girl’s mother had died when Nancy was very young and the housekeeper had helped Mr. Drew bring up his only child.

  As Nancy drove across the town of River Heights, she mulled over the strange message on the homing pigeon. Was it a code? Suddenly it occurred to Nancy that the pigeon might have been released from the plane which accidentally struck it. She wondered what the reply would be from the Homing Pigeon Fanciers association.

  “Maybe,”’ she thought excitedly, “I’ve
stumbled upon a new mystery!”

  By this time she had reached the Blenheim estate on the outskirts of River Heights. The broad tree-shadowed lawn was filled with women setting up displays for the annual charity flower show. Nancy had been assigned a spot in the greenhouse behind the mansion.

  As she set her larkspur arrangement in place, the chairman came up to her. “My, Nancy, your delphinium are gorgeous,” Mrs. Winsor said.

  “Thank you,” Nancy replied.

  “I just adore larkspur,” the woman said. “Such a lovely old-fashioned flower. My grandmother had them in her garden. She always had hollyhocks and bluebells, too.”

  Bluebells! Nancy’s mind leaped to the mysterious message. Could the blue bells in it mean flowers?

  Aloud she said, “Mrs. Winsor, I hope the judges like my flowers as much as you do!”

  Nancy hurried back to the convertible. She was eager to get home and see if a reply to her telegram had come.

  To make better time, Nancy turned off the main highway onto a little-traveled shortcut. As she drove down the narrow road, Nancy saw an old black sedan parked along one side.

  The dusty leaves of some sprawling bushes lay across the top of the automobile and hung down over the windshield and other windows. It was impossible to see inside.

  “That’s really an old-timer,” Nancy thought, and wondered if anyone were in it.

  After she had passed the car, her eyes shifted to the rear-view mirror. Slowing up, she studied the license plate, which was so mud-splattered that only four digits showed: 2-21-1.

  Nancy’s interest quickened at once. These were the first four numbers on the pigeon’s leg band! Was there a connection?

  She gave the license plate another fleeting glance and noted by the color that it was from out of state, but she could not see the identifying initials.

  A moment later an oncoming car passed her. The driver raised a hand and called, “Hello, Nancy!”

  “Dr. Spire!” she exclaimed.

  The famous bone specialist, a friend of the Drew family, was often called out on local emergencies. Glancing back again, Nancy was surprised to see Dr. Spire pull up in back of the old sedan.

  Wondering if she could be of help, Nancy stopped at the side of the road and watched as the physician walked toward the parked car carrying his black bag. As he reached the sedan, a rear door swung open. Dr. Spire put one foot inside and leaned forward. With a sudden movement he vanished into the car and it roared away.

  “That was strange!” Nancy said aloud. “It seemed as if someone jerked him into the back seat. He may have been kidnapped!”

  On a hunch, Nancy backed her convertible to the physician’s car, then braked and leaped out. Dr. Spire had locked his car and the keys were gone.

  “I guess he expected to be met,” Nancy told herself. “He probably jumped into the old sedan. But the whole thing is peculiar.”

  When Nancy reached home, Mrs. Gruen opened the front door. “It’s here. Came a few minutes ago.” She handed over a telegram.

  Nancy tore open the envelope. The wire was from the Pigeon Fanciers association. It read:LOCAL REPRESENTATIVE WILL CALL. BIRD NOT REGISTERED. SUSPECT TROUBLE. KEEP MESSAGE SECRET.

  CHAPTER II

  A Golden Clue

  “ANOTHER strange message!” remarked Hannah Gruen. “What do you think now, Nancy?”

  “That a real mystery has dropped into my lap.” Nancy grinned. “And about time! I’ve been longing for one ever since I solved The Sign of the Twisted Candles. I can’t wait to tell Dad about this!”

  Carson Drew had always been close to his daughter, and often discussed his cases with her, because she grasped the issues so clearly and quickly.

  Nancy reread the telegram and said to Mrs. Gruen, “The pigeon isn’t registered. That’s so its messages can’t be traced to the sender.”

  Hannah replied, “Well, it takes all kinds of folks to make a world. What’s more, pigeons, planes and telegrams aren’t getting tonight’s dinner ready. We’re having hot biscuits and chicken, one of your father’s favorites.”

  “And mine,” said Nancy.

  “Mr. Drew likes sweet pickles too,” Hannah added. “I’ll go down to the cellar and get a jar.”

  Nancy’s thoughts returned to the odd message which had been attached to the pigeon’s leg. She took the note from her pocket and studied it again. The words were neatly printed in black ink.

  For safekeeping, Nancy slipped the note and the telegram into her purse, and set it on the hall table. At that moment she heard a thumping noise and a cry from the cellar.

  “Hannah!” she called. There was no answer.

  Nancy dashed to the kitchen and looked down the cellar stairs. A huddled figure lay on the floor.

  “Oh!” Nancy exclaimed and ran down the steps.

  The housekeeper managed to sit up. “I slipped,” she said shakily. “Oh, my back!”

  “Hannah!” Nancy exclaimed anxiously. “Are you badly hurt?”

  “No,” the housekeeper replied. “I can get up, I’m sure. Just give me a hand.”

  Nancy put one arm around Hannah and helped the woman to her feet. Mrs. Gruen stood still a few moments to catch her breath, then said:

  “I guess I didn’t break anything, thank goodness. But I’m afraid I’ve strained my back.”

  “I’ll drive you to Dr. Spire’s,” Nancy said, “and let him examine you.” With the girl’s help, the housekeeper slowly climbed the stairs.

  “I have to get dinner,” Hannah announced.

  “That can wait,” Nancy said firmly. “We’ll leave a note telling Dad where we’ve gone.”

  As they drove toward the doctor’s residence and office, Nancy hoped that he was back from his mysterious call. When they reached the house, Mrs. Spire told them her husband was out.

  “Is he still on that case out near the Blenheim estate?” Nancy asked. “I passed him on my way home from the flower show.”

  “Yes, he is, but he should be home soon.” She and Nancy helped Hannah to a couch in the office. Then Mrs. Spire excused herself to get dinner, and asked Nancy to answer the office phone if it should ring. Twenty minutes later it buzzed.

  Nancy lifted the receiver, but before she could say “Hello,” a muffled voice asked if Dr. Spire had returned. When Nancy said No, the caller directed her to write down a message.

  As she wrote, a strange expression crossed her face. At the end of the message, the speaker abruptly hung up.

  “Can I believe my eyes?” Nancy wondered as she looked at the message she had jotted down.

  “If you say blue bells, you will get into trouble, for they are no longer used here.”

  “Blue bells again!” Nancy told herself. Was Dr. Spire somehow involved in the mystery of the message attached to the pigeon’s leg? Could it be more than coincidence that the numbers on the license plate of the black sedan matched the first four digits on the bird’s leg band? Her suspicion that the doctor had been pulled forcibly into the sedan came flooding back.

  Nancy was about to tell Hannah what the anonymous caller had said, when brisk footsteps were heard outside the door. Dr. Spire, a lanky, balding man, strode into the office. Although he looked worried, his thin, intense face lighted with a smile.

  “Well, Nancy, we meet again!”

  Hiding her surprise and relief at seeing him safe, Nancy replied with a cheerful greeting.

  The physician turned to Hannah. “Mrs. Gruen, my wife has told me of your accident. I’m sorry to hear about it. I’ll take a look at you now.”

  Fifteen minutes later the doctor announced that she had a sprained back. “Rest in bed a few days. I’ll write a prescription for you. In ten days you’ll be feeling like your old self.”

  “I’ll see that she rests,” Nancy promised.

  She helped Hannah to the car and settled her comfortably in the front seat. Then she excused herself and hurried back inside. The doctor was seated at his desk, gazing into space. He looked at Nancy inquir
ingly.

  “I jotted down this phone message for you,” she said. “It is important that I ask you something about it.”

  The doctor’s lips tightened as he read the message.

  “Does it make sense to you?” Nancy asked.

  “Yes,” he said grimly.

  Dr. Spire stood up and strode across the room. Then he turned and faced Nancy. “I need help in solving a strange mystery. There’s nobody with whom I’d rather discuss it than you and your father. Will you help me?”

  “Of course,” Nancy replied.

  “Then will you both come back later?”

  Nancy agreed. “I’m eager to hear your story. I think the mystery may be linked to one I’m working on.”

  The doctor looked amazed, but before he could ask what she meant, Mrs. Spire came to tell him that dinner was ready. Nancy quickly excused herself.

  When she and Hannah reached home, Carson Drew, a tall, distinguished-looking man, was eagerly waiting for them. He was sorry to hear what had happened to the housekeeper and helped her upstairs. After Mrs. Gruen was settled in bed, Nancy brought her a tray of food, then prepared dinner for her father and herself.

  While they ate, Nancy told him about the strange occurrences. Mr. Drew shook his head and chuckled. “You attract mystery like nectar in a flower attracts a bee, Nancy.”

  She grinned. “In this case, I’ll be the blossom and hope the villain will come my way!”

  “I’ll go with you tonight,” he agreed, “and I’ll do anything I can to help.”

  With a twinkle in her eyes Nancy said, “Then you can start clearing the table. I’ll scrape the dishes and put them in the washer.”

  Carson Drew laughed. “You caught me that time, young lady!”

  But he was Nancy’s willing helper and it did not take the father-daughter team long to tidy the kitchen. Then they set off for Dr. Spire’s office. He greeted them cordially and indicated deep leather armchairs.

  Mr. Drew said quietly, “Suppose you tell us what’s worrying you, Richard.”

  “It’s a strange story,” the physician said. “I almost can’t believe it myself. This afternoon I had a phone call saying that a patient of mine, Mrs. Manning Smith, had been in a minor car accident on Hollow Hill Road. She wanted me to meet her there and if necessary take her to the hospital.