The Clue of the Dancing Puppet Read online

  The amateur actresses took their stations in the wings, and the rehearsal began. Bess, book in hand, came on, reading her lines as the maid. In a few moments, Margo Spencer clapped her hands. Bess stopped speaking.

  “Never turn your face away from the audience!” the actress told her. “And speak your lines distinctly!”

  George whispered in Nancy’s ear, “I’ll bet Bess’s knees are shaking.”

  Nancy nodded. “Maybe Bess is embarrassed because we’re here. Let’s go outside—where we can hear her but not be seen.”

  They had just reached the front of the theater when Bess walked off stage. George grinned. “That was a small part,” she said. “If we’d closed our eyes we would have missed her. I wonder if my aspiring actress cousin will come on again!”

  She and Nancy went out the front door and circled around to the rear of the building, directly off the wing of the stage. There they collected the scenery still to be painted, and went to work. From what the girls could hear through the open stage door, it was evident that the rehearsal was progressing badly. The young actresses could not remember their lines and were being prompted constantly. When they did remember them, Margo or Hamilton Spencer would tell them that they were putting no spirit into the parts.

  The only person on stage who seemed to be doing well was Tammi Whitlock. Nancy and George, despite their dislike of the girl personally, were spellbound by her performance.

  “Tammi’s good. No doubt about it,” said George. “Say,” she added, as a sudden thought came to her, “do you think Tammi could have had anything to do with the witch scare?”

  Nancy became thoughtful. “She could have, I suppose, but I don’t see any particular motive.”

  “I wouldn’t put anything past her,” George declared. “Why, she might even be back of the dancing puppet business!”

  Nancy stared into space. George had a point! Yet Nancy felt that there was nothing to go on, so far, but a hunch. She smiled and said aloud, “My dad has always reminded me of the legal tradition, ‘A man is presumed to be innocent until proved guilty.’”

  The conversation of the two girls was suddenly drowned out by a tirade from Hamilton Spencer aimed at the amateur actresses.

  “I’m about ready to give up,” he exclaimed in exasperation.

  Then Margo began to talk also. “It’s hopeless, absolutely hopeless,” she declared. “I’d be ashamed to have the townspeople come to such a performance!”

  “The show will have to be postponed!” Hamilton Spencer announced.

  At this, Tammi flew into a rage. “You mean you’ll close this theater for a couple of weeks? No, you won’t! I’ll see to it that you’re out of here before that happens!”

  “Quiet!” Mr. Spencer ordered her. “You have an idea that the Footlighters cannot get along without you as leading lady in the play. Well, Tammi, you’re greatly mistaken.”

  By this time Nancy and George were peering through the doorway at the scene inside the theater. Most of the young performers looked as if they were ready to cry.

  Tammi stood on stage, her feet planted wide apart and her face red with anger. “You get rid of me and the whole show will fall apart!” she exclaimed. “If you’re inferring that Kathy Cromwell can ever take my place, you’re talking like a madman!”

  At this, Kathy, now seated again in the front row, began to sob. “Tammi is right,” she said. “Oh, please, all of you, please stop the argument. I’m sure we can all do better. We promise to work hard. But Tammi must remain as our leading lady. I know I’m no good as an understudy. We’ll just have to pray that nothing happens to Tammi, and then I’ll never have to play her part.”

  Kathy’s pleading struck home. Her friends rallied around her. Tammi stood smug, but smiling.

  Finally Mr. Spencer said perhaps he had been too hard on the girls. “I get carried away sometimes, forgetting you’re not professionals.” He begged everyone to go home and concentrate on learning the lines and gestures as he had directed.

  The incident had whetted Nancy’s appetite to learn Tammi’s part, not for the forthcoming play, but for the one being currently produced several evenings a week. “Something could happen to Tammi, and if Kathy can’t take her place—well, I could try.”

  When Bess left the theater, Nancy asked her to get a copy of the Civil War play. Nancy closeted herself in her bedroom, and by suppertime had mastered Tammi’s lines in Act One.

  Coming from her room, she went across the hall to speak to George and Bess. “Let’s drive back to my house to dinner,” she said. “I want to hear what Dad has found out about the people here.”

  Bess giggled. “You mean there’s a chance we might have one of Hannah’s marvelous dinners?” Bess loved to eat.

  Nancy chuckled. “We could, of course, but there’s a certain young lady who’s been asked to play a part in the new show. If she gained too many pounds, she might lose her chance.”

  Bess considered this. Finally she said, “I won’t eat dessert.”

  Nancy telephoned Hannah Gruen. “How nice to have you girls come to dinner!” Hannah said enthusiastically.

  By the time they arrived, there was a delicious aroma of broiling steak, and macaroni and cheese coming from the kitchen.

  As the group ate, Mr. Drew reported that he had found the Spencers above suspicion. “They have a very fine reputation in the theatrical world.”

  “And what about Emmet Calhoun?” Nancy asked.

  The lawyer shrugged. “So far, I have found out little about him. Seems to be a roving character. He may be harmless, but on the other hand he may not be. I suggest you keep an eye on him.”

  Conversation turned to the girls’ adventures since last night.

  Hannah Gruen was particularly interested in Tammi Whitlock. “She sounds like a Tartar,” the housekeeper said. Then Mrs. Gruen chuckled. “I always understood that the best way to lose a boy is to chase after him!”

  “You ought to see how she acts,” George said in disgust: “Tammi’s so bold on stage and off that it makes me sick!”

  Bess kept her promise and ate none of the delicious strawberry shortcake. But she had asked to be excused from the table to avoid temptation, and was looking at a television program when the telephone rang. She answered the call and said it was for Nancy.

  “Hello,” said Nancy, when she reached the phone.

  “This is Joe—down at the garage,” the caller said excitedly. “Say, Nancy, can you come right down here?”

  CHAPTER IX

  Shadowing

  “JOE, what happened?” Nancy asked the young mechanic.

  “I have something to show you,” Joe told her. “It’s important!”

  “I’ll come right away,” Nancy promised.

  She returned to the dinner table and told the others about the message. Then Nancy, Bess, and George said good-by to Mr. Drew and Mrs. Gruen and hurried off to the garage. When they reached it, Joe led them to a car which he said had been brought in a short time before.

  “It needs front bumper and headlight work,” he said significantly. “Nancy, maybe this belongs to the fellow you’re looking for—the one who rammed into your convertible!”

  For several seconds Nancy, Bess, and George gazed at the damaged car, a late-model, black four-door sedan. Its bumper had been jammed back, and both headlights were broken.

  “If the man who ran into you,” said George, “is the owner of this car, how in the world did he make his getaway without headlights?”

  Joe laughed. “When people are desperate, they’ll take chances. This guy probably drove off in the darkness and hid his car some place until daylight.”

  “I notice this car has California license plates,” Nancy remarked. “Who is the owner?”

  “He gave his name as Owen Whipley,” Joe replied.

  “And where is he staying?” Nancy prodded.

  Joe looked a bit sheepish. “He didn’t say, and I didn’t bother to ask. He told me he’d be back for the car in a
bout three days. Oh, yes, he also said he was just passing through this area. Somebody got in his way, he said, and he swerved into a tree.”

  “Of course his story could be true,” Nancy said. “But I’m going to make two tests. First, I’ll back up my car and see if our fenders are the same height from the ground.”

  She did this, and they came together exactly. Next, she took a magnifying glass from the glove compartment of her convertible and trained it on the front of the black sedan.

  “Flecks of light-blue paint on here,” she reported. “Joe, you take a look and see if you think they match the paint on my car.”

  The garageman made a careful examination and confirmed Nancy’s suspicion that this was the car which had run into her convertible on the lonely country road.

  “I’ll call Chief McGinnis at once,” Nancy said. “He’ll probably send men here to take samples of the paint and give them a laboratory test. That’s the only real way to be sure.”

  The chief greeted Nancy with a warm hello. He listened attentively to her story, then said, “I’ll dispatch two detectives at once to make an investigation.”

  When the officers arrived they told Joe that he was not to permit the suspected car to leave the garage.

  “Drain all the fuel from it,” one of them ordered, and this was done at once.

  “I guess we can’t do any more now,” Nancy said as the officers packed up their equipment preparatory to leaving.

  The three girls drove off and returned to the Van Pelt house. The evening’s performance was still in progress, so they decided to go into the theater and watch it. Noiselessly the three friends slid into seats at the back and listened attentively.

  “Sounds pretty good,” George remarked admiringly.

  Whenever Tammi Whitlock was on stage, Nancy watched her intently. Without moving her lips, Nancy repeated the lines after the actress. She wished she dared to imitate the other girl’s gestures as well, but felt she should not do this for fear of being misunderstood. However, she scrutinized carefully each movement which Tammi made.

  “She’s graceful and moves her body in rhythm with the meaning of the play, as a dancer does,” Nancy thought.

  Presently Bess smiled. She leaned over and whispered to the girls, “Kathy’s magnificent tonight. You know what I think? I think Bob Simpson likes her and she’s thrilled at the attention he’s paying her.”

  George and Nancy nodded. Then George, with a low chuckle, whispered, “But watch out for fire-works from the leading lady when it dawns on her!”

  As the show was drawing to a close, Nancy turned to the cousins and said, “In connection with our mystery, I’d like to find out where each one of the actors and actresses goes after taking off the grease paint and changing out of costume.”

  “Okay,” said George. “What are Bess’s and my assignments?”

  Nancy suggested that Bess hurry backstage and watch what went on there. “Maybe you’ll hear some of them say where they’re going.”

  George was to cover the dressing rooms in the house. “I’ll take the special section of the parking lot reserved for the Footlighters,” Nancy concluded.

  As the entire cast was taking bows from the enthusiastic audience, the three girls hurried off to their posts. Nancy decided to keep out of sight, and hid behind a large truck which belonged to the Van Pelt estate. It was rarely used now and not likely to be moved at this time.

  As Nancy watched, she noticed that the first actors and actresses to leave the dressing rooms were young married couples.

  “They’re probably going home,” Nancy decided.

  Other performers came out alone or in couples. Among these was Kathy Cromwell, walking beside Bob Simpson. The two were laughing and looked very happy as they climbed into a station wagon and went off together.

  “Bess’s hunch was right,” Nancy thought.

  The last person to come out was Tammi, who went directly to her car. To Nancy’s amazement, the leading lady seemed surprised to find a young man in the driver’s seat.

  “Chuck!” Tammi hissed, then added angrily, “I told you not to come here! Suppose somebody sees you!”

  To Nancy’s further amazement, the stranger behind the wheel said to Tammi icily, “Shut up and get in! Remember? We have a job to do!”

  As Tammi and her strange companion pulled away from the parking lot, Nancy came out of hiding. She was puzzled by the remarks between the couple.

  What kind of job did they have to do? Where were they going? Did it have anything to do with the mystery of the dancing puppet?

  “I have half a mind to follow them!” Nancy told herself. “But it might not be safe to go alone. Oh, dear, if only Bess or George would come out!”

  As if in answer to her wish, George appeared from the house. Instantly Nancy called to her, “Hurry! We haven’t a moment to lose!”

  CHAPTER X

  An Excited Patron

  GEORGE sprinted across the parking lot to the convertible. Nancy had already jumped into the driver’s seat and started the car. Two seconds later the girls were on their way.

  Nancy sped out the driveway to the main road, then stopped. She looked left and right. In the distance to her left, she saw the taillights of a car and turned in that direction.

  As she sped up the road, George asked, “What’s the mad rush for? I should know where I’m going!”

  Quickly Nancy told her chum of the conversation between Tammi and the unknown young man. George whistled. “I don’t wonder you want to follow them. Sounds ominous, doesn’t it?”

  The car ahead was making good time, but Nancy was able to keep it in view without any difficulty. It went on and on.

  Nancy did not say a word. But presently George spoke up. “We may travel for hours,” she said. “Bess and the Spencers will wonder where we are.”

  “If we stop to telephone,” said Nancy, “we may lose Tammi.”

  Just as she was wondering whether she should give up the chase and turn back, the car ahead turned into the grounds of a country restaurant.

  “‘Green Acres,’ ” George read the sign aloud. Then she added, “This is a very exclusive place.”

  “Which means we shouldn’t go in without escorts—or money,” Nancy said with a sigh.

  “If we don‘t,” George answered, “how are we going to find out what the ‘job’ is?”

  “I’ll park here near the end of the drive,” Nancy decided. “Suppose you stay in the car so you can move it if necessary.”

  “And what are you going to do?” George asked.

  “Scout around a little,” Nancy replied. “As long as I’ve come this far I may as well find out what I can about the plans of Tammi and her escort!”

  As she walked toward the Green Acres Restaurant, Nancy admired the fine lines of the old colonial building. Once a home, it had been converted into a fashionable restaurant. It was white, with tall pillars at the entrance and heavily curtained windows. The grounds were beautifully planted.

  “It’s a lovely place,” Nancy thought.

  Seeing an attendant at the door, and wishing to avoid being questioned, she skirted the large wooden building. “Perhaps one of the curtains won’t be drawn over the window and I can peer inside!” Nancy hoped.

  To her dismay, all views of the interior were completely blocked off. “Now what am I going to do?” the young sleuth asked herself.

  At this moment the dance band began to play, and in a few seconds a man started to sing.

  Nancy listened with pleasure, one foot tapping the pavement. “Nice voice,” she thought.

  Just then a diner seated near one of the windows peered outside. For a few seconds he held one of the draperies open far enough for Nancy to get a good look at the interior of the dining room. At one side were the orchestra and the singer.

  Suddenly Nancy gasped. The singer was Tammi Whitlock’s companion! The girl detective almost laughed aloud. So this was the job he had mentioned at the parking lot!

  �
��I’ve certainly come on a wild-goose chase,” she told herself.

  Nancy was about to turn toward the driveway and rejoin George when another thought struck her. The singer who had spoken to Tammi so unpleasantly at the Van Pelt estate had said, “We have a job to do!” What could Tammi’s job be?

  “If she’s singing here, then she’s not an amateur,” Nancy reflected. “And she has no right to be in the Footlighters!”

  Nancy decided to stay at the restaurant a little longer to see if Tammi did appear in some professional act, such as a monologue or skit. The young man stopped singing, but the band continued to play.

  “Maybe I should ask the door attendant about the performers,” Nancy thought.

  As she moved from the side of the building toward the front entrance, she became aware of a sudden disturbance at the door. Two men rushed out and dashed toward one of the parked cars.

  “Hold on!” the door attendant said. “I’ll get your car for you.” The men paid no attention. A second later Nancy noticed a well-dressed, middle-aged woman also dash from the entrance. She was wearing a low-cut evening dress and gleaming emerald earrings and bracelets.

  Pointing ahead, the excited patron cried out, “Stop thieves! Stop thieves!”

  “She must mean those two men who ran out!” Nancy thought.

  They had already started their car and were backing around. Quick as lightning, Nancy dashed up the driveway, calling at the top of her voice, “George, block the driveway!”

  George obeyed orders instantly. She moved the convertible back so that it would be impossible for anyone to leave the grounds in a car. By this time Nancy, the woman who had been robbed, the attendant, and two other men were running after the suspects’ car. When the men in it saw their escape blocked, the driver stopped short.

  “Get out of the way!” he yelled at George.

  “I can’t,” George replied, pretending that the car was stalled.

  “Good old George!” Nancy thought.