The Witch Tree Symbol Read online

  “Ow!” she moaned, sinking down again and putting a hand to her forehead. “I certainly gave my head a bang!”

  “All of us might have been killed!” George cried indignantly. “Who could have been so careless?”

  Nancy noticed an excavation for a building and a neat pile of the cinder blocks off to the side. She declared that the obstruction seemed to have been caused by more than carelessness. “I think it was done deliberately!”

  “The hex is at fault,” Bess muttered, sitting up cautiously.

  Nancy and George carried the blocks out of the way so they could drive on. Bess sat and watched them through the open door of the car. Suddenly a piece of paper stuck between two of the blocks caught her eye.

  Bess got out and picked up the paper. There was writing on it.

  “Listen!” she cried, and read, “‘Nancy Drew, witches are not wanted in Amish country.’ ”

  Nancy and George rushed to Bess’s side and read the note themselves.

  “This explains a lot,” Nancy said. “I bet that man who passed us was Roger Hoelt in disguise! He knew these blocks were here and threw them into the road and left this note!”

  The cousins gasped. “You’re right,” said George, “and we’re after him. Come on!”

  The girls quickly got into the car and started off. Bess remarked that the man had such a head start they would never be able to find him.

  “We’ll watch for his tire tracks in the dust,” Nancy said. She thought it should be easy to trail the man, for the road was not well traveled and was extremely dusty.

  As they rode along, Nancy said she had a new slant on the case. The couple for whom Manda might be working were Roger Hoelt and his wife.

  “You mean they’re posing as an Amish couple?” George asked.

  “Yes. Since he once lived here, he’d know just how to do it.”

  “I agree. But how long are we going to follow these tracks?” Bess asked.

  “If we don’t catch him by the time we get to the highway, we’re out of luck,” Nancy replied. “This road leads into it, according to the map, and Hoelt’s trail will disappear once he’s on the pavement.”

  The girls sped along for nearly a mile in that direction, but did not overtake the suspect.

  Finally Bess pleaded that they give up the chase. “I have a dreadful headache,” she said.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?” Nancy asked kindly. “We’ll go right back to Kreutzes’.”

  At the farm, Manda’s mother greeted the girls eagerly. “Did you find any trace of my daughter?”

  Nancy alighted from the car and told the woman about the Amish couple for whom Manda might be working. “Tomorrow we’ll try to locate them,” she promised.

  Mrs. Kreutz looked at Bess, who was being helped out of the car. “Why, look at your head!” she cried solicitously. “What happened?”

  “We had to stop suddenly and I bumped it,” Bess replied.

  Nancy told Mrs. Kreutz about the cinder blocks that had been thrown in the road, and said she had been unable to avoid hitting them. But she did not mention the note or her suspicions regarding the Hoelts.

  They all went into the house and George asked, “Have you something we can put on Bess’s head? It’s aching badly.”

  “Yes, I have some homemade liniment,” Mrs. Kreutz replied. “But I will do a little powwowing too. Come upstairs.”

  Bringing the bottle of liniment and a cloth to Bess’s bedroom, she told the girl to lie down. She sprinkled the folded cloth with the liniment and placed it on Bess’s forehead. Then she went for her Gabrauch Buch.

  In a low voice, Mrs. Kreutz began to read from the book in German. She gently stroked Bess’s head, then her arms. Finally the woman closed her eyes and began to mumble to herself. Nancy and George wondered if she were praying. A few minutes later Bess sighed, closed her eyes, and went to sleep.

  Mrs. Kreutz seemed to be unaware of anything but her powwow. But presently she stopped speaking, rose, and motioned to Nancy and George to follow her from the bedroom.

  “Bess will feel better now,” the woman said.

  Downstairs, Mrs. Kreutz’s mood changed abruptly. Smiling, she asked the two girls if they would like to help her prepare supper. “We will have moon pies tonight,” she said.

  “And I’ll bet they’ll taste out of this world,” George said with a laugh.

  “That is a good joke,” Mrs. Kreutz said. “And I suppose you never heard of them. Come. We will prepare a dozen.”

  The woman rolled the piecrust dough out on a table and floured it. Then she told the girls to cut it into round sections six inches in diameter. This done, she asked George to go outside to the small stone house through which a stream of cold water flowed. Here crocks of milk, cream, cheeses, and meats were kept cool.

  “Bring the roast of veal,” the woman directed. “It stands behind on the top shelf over.”

  When George returned with the meat, Mrs. Kreutz cut a generous piece from it. She put this into a wooden chopping bowl and cut it up fine with an old-fashioned chopper.

  The meat was now transferred to a skillet on the stove. Butter, cream, salt, pepper, and pickled relish were added. After it had cooked a while, Mrs. Kreutz directed the girls to butter the rounds of dough. Into half of each she put generous spoonfuls of the meat mixture.

  “Now pull the lids over and pinch the edges all around with your thumbs,” she instructed.

  “They look like half-moons!” George declared.

  Mrs. Kreutz spread more butter on top of each, and said the moon pies were ready for the oven. “Papa likes these for supper,” she said. “By the way, do not mention Manda to Papa. When he is ready to talk about her, he will ask you.”

  Within an hour, Bess came downstairs, saying she felt much better. “And doesn’t something smell good! Mm-mm!”

  George laughed. “Bess must be back to normal. She’s hungry!” She told her cousin of Mrs. Kreutz’s request not to mention Manda.

  During the meal Mr. Kreutz did not bring up the subject of his missing daughter. But as soon as the dishes had been washed, he called Nancy aside and asked her what she had learned about Manda.

  Nancy told him in detail, and added, “Mr. Kreutz, I think you should notify the police. They may be able to locate Manda easily.”

  “Not” Mr. Kreutz cried loudly. “I am an Amish man. We take care of family matters without the help of the police. I gave you my permission to locate my daughter. But no one outside the family, except you three, will be allowed to interfere.”

  The farmer then asked Nancy what else she and her friends had done that day. When the girl described the accident and the note in the cinder block, Mr. Kreutz exclaimed, “Du bin en hex maydel!”

  “I’m not a witch!” Nancy protested, amazed that evidently he now believed the superstition.

  Despite her denial, Mr. and Mrs. Kreutz at once became cool toward all the girls. The farmer said it was time to go to bed, and they both nodded a curt good night and left the room.

  The girls, nonplussed by the change in their hosts’ attitude, spoke in whispers. “This settles it,” said Bess. “We’ll move out in the morning.”

  “Yes, we’re certainly not wanted,” George agreed. “Imagine their believing that you’re a witch, Nancy!”

  Their friend, with a mystified expression, asked herself, “But why are the Kreutzes so convinced all of a sudden that I am a witch? There’s something to this they haven’t told us!”

  CHAPTER VII

  A Stolen Horse

  THE sudden change in the attitude of the Kreutzes toward the girls bothered them so much that they slept fitfully. The farmer had said he did not believe in hexing, yet when Nancy had shown him the note about witches, he had acted as if she were one!

  “If people around this area are going to be afraid of me,” Nancy thought, “I’ll have a difficult time trying to solve the mystery.”

  Although Nancy did not intend to give up the case becaus
e of such an attitude, Bess was of a different frame of mind. Sensitive by nature, she did not want to stay where she would be shunned. Besides, she felt that further work on the mystery would involve more danger all the time.

  “I’ll try to talk Nancy into leaving this Amish country,” she decided.

  As for George, she was angry with the Kreutzes. After Nancy and her friends had made their best efforts to locate a girl who had run away, her parents were now treating their guests as suspects!

  Early the following morning, Nancy and the girls packed their bags and went downstairs. Mr. and Mrs. Kreutz were already at the table, having breakfast. They nodded, but did not invite the girls to join them.

  “We’re leaving,” said Nancy. “I’m sorry that you’ve been disturbed by rumors about me and that you evidently believe them. I strongly suspect that Roger Hoelt is behind all of this. Some day he’ll be caught, then I’ll be cleared of these silly charges.”

  Nancy’s hope that her words might convince Mr. and Mrs. Kreutz was not fulfilled. The farmer and his wife merely nodded again, and did not rise or even say good-by. Nevertheless, each of the girls thanked the couple for their hospitality, then walked out the kitchen door. In silence they got into Nancy’s convertible and drove off.

  “Well, I’ve never been so badly treated by nice people in all my life!” George stormed.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t blame them too much,” Nancy suggested. “There may be more to this than we realize. But I intend to find out what it is!”

  “Will you keep on looking for Manda?” Bess asked Nancy.

  “Certainly. If she’s working for a thief, I want to warn her as soon as possible.”

  “Maybe,” Bess surmised, “the Kreutzes think you know where Manda is and won’t tell them.”

  “That’s possible. They may have been told a witch is responsible for Manda’s disappearance and now they believe I’m that person.”

  “I’d like to bet,” said George, “that if we bring Manda back, the Kreutzes will do an about-face.”

  Bess wanted to know where Nancy was heading. Nancy said she thought they might try New Holland. It was a good base from which to work.

  “I’d like to make some inquiries around that area.”

  In New Holland they found a place to eat and ordered breakfast.

  “We’d better keep this witch business to ourselves,” Nancy advised, “or we may not find a place to sleep.”

  Bess and George smiled, and Nancy asked the woman in charge if she could recommend a boardinghouse. The woman suggested a place about a mile out of town.

  “Papa Glick had a bad accident two years ago and had to give up farming,” the woman said. “Now he is a schumacher. Mama Glick will rent rooms sometimes. The Glicks are Church Amish. You will be very comfortable there.”

  When the visitors finished eating, they went directly to the farm. It was well kept, although many of the fields were in pasture. The house was of red brick. The wooden barn was also red.

  A pleasant-faced woman, wearing a green dress and the traditional Amish cap and apron, opened the door. When Nancy stated the reason for the girls’ call, Mrs. Glick invited them in.

  “I have four rooms empty,” she said. “Make your choice between.”

  The interior of the house, with its homespun draperies and floor coverings, was quaint and attractive. The second-floor bedrooms were spanking clean and just as cheerful. The girls were delighted and at once chose the rooms they would take.

  “You are sightseeing in New Holland?” Mrs. Glick asked.

  “Yes, we are,” Nancy replied. Feeling she could confide in this pleasant woman, she added, “And we’re also here for another reason.” She told Mrs. Glick about the stolen furniture for which they were looking and their suspicion that the thief might be hiding in Amish territory.

  At this moment the girls heard footsteps on the stairs and a boy and girl appeared. Mrs. Glick introduced them as Becky, aged ten, her daughter, and Henner, eight, her son.

  “They’re adorable, and how healthy looking!” Bess exclaimed.

  Both children had big brown eyes and very straight bodies. Their hair was cut and combed in the Amish style.

  Becky wore a prayer cap just like her mother’s and carried a black bonnet over her arm. She wore a long black smock with a white blouse underneath, and a white apron but no kerchief.

  Henner held an Amish boy’s hat in his hand. The boy’s blue shirt, black trousers, and wide homemade suspenders were exactly the same as those the girls had seen all the Amish men wearing.

  “Henner,” said his mother, “I’m sorry to see you so dirty when we have visitors. Did you fall?”

  His sister answered for him. “Henner, he goes by horse stall down. Iss er net schuslich?”

  “Yes, he is careless,” his mother agreed. “Henner, go scrub yourself.”

  The girls went downstairs to get their luggage and then unpacked. Half an hour later they were ready to take up their sleuthing.

  Just as Nancy, Bess, and George were leaving, they heard hoofbeats and saw an Amish carriage coming up the lane. The horse’s sleek body gleamed and so did the highly varnished black vehicle he was pulling. The carriage was plain, with no dashboard or other trimming. It had a front and rear seat, and was almost completely enclosed.

  “Papa kumpt hame!” the children cried, and ran to meet him.

  Mrs. Glick went outside with the girls and introduced her husband, a nice-looking kindly man, but pale compared to Amish farmers they had seen.

  After greeting him, Nancy told Mr. Glick what had brought the girls to Pennsylvania Dutch country. The cobbler had not heard of Roger Hoelt, and was sorry to learn about the stolen furniture.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Glick, do you know Manda Kreutz?” Nancy asked.

  The couple exchanged glances, then Papa Glick said, “Yes,” and added, “We do not approve of young girls running away from home. But maybe her father was too strict. Now she has taken up with Amish strangers.”

  “Please tell me about it,” Nancy begged. “Where is Manda?”

  “I do not know,” Mr. Glick replied. “But she was seen riding in a carriage with a couple who told a friend of mine, Mr. Weiss, they are from Ohio.”

  “Is he sure they are Amish?” Nancy inquired.

  “My friend wonders,” the cobbler answered, “because of their speech. He thinks they might be English.”

  When Nancy inquired what Mr. Glick meant by the last remark, he explained that among his sect, any non-Amish people were called English, meaning foreigners.

  “This pair wore Amish clothing,” he said, “and had an Amish carriage, but maybe they were just putting on.”

  Nancy was excited over this latest piece of information. Her hunch had probably been right. The couple were Mr. and Mrs. Roger Hoelt! If Manda Kreutz became too friendly with them, she might get into serious trouble with the law!

  “We’re trying to find Manda,” Nancy told the Glicks. “I know it’s hard to believe but her father has had a change of heart and now both parents want their daughter to come home. Can you give us any other clues?” she asked the cobbler. He regretfully said no.

  Nancy had a sudden inspiration. “If the Hoelts are masquerading,” she said aloud, “they probably bought a horse and carriage around here recently.”

  “Unless they stole them,” George interposed.

  “That could easily be done,” Mrs. Glick spoke up. “Amish carriages all look alike. It is difficult to distinguish one from another.”

  Then she smiled a little. “The owners have funny ways of telling them apart—a bullet hole from rifle practice or a high board on the floor for a short-legged wife.”

  Mr. Glick insisted that an owner did not even need earmarks to tell his carriage from others, “We chust look at ‘em. We know ’em!” he said. “Nobody can fool us.”

  Nancy told Mr. Glick that she suspected the man masquerading as Amish might be the furniture thief, and she would like to inquire at local carri
age factories about any recent purchase by an out-of-state man. The cobbler gave her the name of a factory five miles away, and the girls set off at once for the place. There Nancy spoke to the manager and stated the reason for her call.

  “You have come to the right place,” the man said. “But the carriage was not purchased. It was stolen!”

  “Stolen!” Nancy gasped.

  “Do you know who took it?” the manager asked.

  “No. By the way, have you ever met Roger Hoelt?”

  “Never heard of him.”

  Nancy remarked that maybe the thief had also stolen a horse to go with the carriage.

  “You have the nail on the head hit,” the man said. “My uncle, who lives a few miles from here, has a lot of horses. He missed one the same day my carriage was stolen.”

  “Quite a coincidence,” Nancy declared. “What color was the horse?”

  “Black.”

  “Thank you very much, sir. You’ve been very helpful.”

  Nancy excitedly hurried outside to tell Bess and George what she had learned. They, too, were enthusiastic about the latest development.

  “So now,” said George, “we start roaming the countryside, looking for a fake Amish man driving a black horse and carriage.” She chuckled. “Who wants the honor of pulling off his false beard?”

  CHAPTER VIII

  Disturbing Rumors

  “THERE’s one thing I’m glad of,” Bess said as the girls drove back toward New Holland. “We don’t have to return to the Kreutzes’ and tell them that their daughter has taken up with a thief.”

  “If Manda really is with the Hoelts,” Nancy stated, “I’m sure she has no idea that they’re thieves.”

  George pointed out that the Amish girl might have to testify in court if the Hoelts were apprehended. “That would crush her proud parents,” she said.

  Presently Nancy noticed that they were near the road that led to the Zinn house. She suggested they stop and tell Mr. Zinn what they had learned about the Hoelts. He might have additional news for them.