The Ghost of Blackwood Hall Read online

  Huber muttered after him, “You brainless muscled monkey!” Nancy thought wryly that the slight ranger had probably waited until Curran was underwater and out of earshot before he insulted him.

  Realizing she had no time to lose, Nancy looked around the cabin for some way to attract attention.

  Back at the cottage, neither Bess nor George slept soundly. They met each other in the kitchen.

  “Worried about our detective?” George asked her cousin.

  “Yes,” Bess admitted. “She’s been gone for hours. I know she doesn’t want anyone to know she’s at the station, but I’m scared something’s happened to her.”

  “I am too,” George agreed. “Let’s walk to the ranger station. If we don’t find Nancy there, we’ll tell the Coast Guard she’s missing.”

  George found a flashlight in a drawer but the battery was dead.

  “I’m afraid it’s going to be pretty dark out there,” she warned Bess.

  “I’m so worried about Nancy I don’t care if I run into every ghost on the island,” Bess declared stoutly. “Let’s throw on some clothes and march to the station.”

  The two cousins hurried as best they could in the total darkness. Once Bess heard a funny noise and clutched her cousin’s arm.

  “It’s only a toad,” George informed her.

  Bess apologized, then declared, “Toads or no toads, I’ll make it to the ranger station or bust.”

  When they reached the building, George knocked loudly and called Nancy’s name. There was no answer. The cousins rushed over to the Coast Guard station.

  “I hate to think what might have happened to Nancy,” Bess murmurred.

  Bess and George encountered the same coast guardsman whom Nancy had questioned the night before about Colin Hudson. The young man started in surprise when they told him about Nancy.

  “The night patrol is still out,” he informed them. “I’ll alert Captain Doyle about Nancy immediately. Those on land duty will start to search around the ranger station and harbor. People seem to be disappearing on Pelican all of a sudden,” he said in a puzzled voice. Then he called the night patrol on the large radio next to him.

  “Why don’t you girls accompany the land patrol?” he suggested. “I’m sure they’d appreciate any help you could give them,”

  Craning her neck to see behind her, Nancy spied a boat horn. Wasting no time, the agile sleuth twisted her body until her hip pressed against the horn. While Mr. Hudson watched in amazement, she beeped out SOS. The horn blared so loudly it almost deafened her.

  “What are you doing?” a furious Huber yelled at Nancy as he scrambled down into the cabin. “You’ll be overboard with your hands and feet tied if you pull another stunt like that.” The man stiffened as he heard a Coast Guard siren off in the distance. Cursing Nancy, the ranger turned on the boat radio. He put it on a rock station playing very loud music.

  “That’ll drown your screams,” he sneered at Nancy. Then Huber clambered back on deck to await the Coast Guard.

  “Ahoy there!” a hearty voice called out in a few minutes. “I’m Captain Doyle of the Coast Guard. We picked up your SOS.”

  “Sorry, Captain,” Huber said smoothly. “I just wanted to make sure the horn worked. I figured no one would hear it.”

  “Say, you’re one of the rangers, aren’t you?” Captain Doyle asked.

  “Yes,” Huber replied, “I guess I’m sort of a landlubber. I didn’t realize I had sent out a message.”

  “What are you doing on Curran’s catamaran?” the captain questioned him.

  “Gerald Curran said he found some World War II artifacts which he would let us exhibit at the station. I came out to have a look at the site,” Huber said.

  “Have you seen any sign of a reddish-blond eighteen-year-old girl?” Captain Doyle asked.

  “Sorry to say I haven’t,” Huber answered. “Is somebody missing?”

  “We had a radio message to be on the lookout for a Nancy Drew,” Captain Doyle explained.

  Fearing that the Coast Guard boat would pull away momentarily, Nancy thought quickly. Huber had moved the horn out of her reach. Nancy calculated that if she maneuvered her body into a shoulder stand she could get one foot in front of the porthole.

  Fortunately, a young sailor caught sight of Nancy’s foot. He went over to the captain and whispered in his ear.

  “Could you come on board for a minute and sign some routine papers, Ranger Huber?” the captain requested. “Regulations, regulations,” he complained. “With all this paperwork, it’s a miracle I ever get to the open sea.”

  Huber unsuspectingly boarded the Coast Guard boat. Two sailors took his arm as if to help him aboard but then held the ranger firmly in their grasp.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Huber protested, writhing in the grip of the burly sailors.

  “One of my men caught sight of some unusual cargo,” Captain Doyle said sternly. “Unless you can convince me that teenage girls are World War II artifacts, I think you’re going to be in a lot of trouble.”

  Huber went limp. “It’s all Curran’s fault,” he whined piteously.

  “You must be quite a contortionist,” Captain Doyle complimented Nancy as he untied her.

  “I’ve learned a few gymnastics tricks,” Nancy explained modestly to the attractive, bearded captain.

  “I’m glad you did,” he replied, “or we might never have found you. There are countless tiny islands around here where Huber and Curran could have abandoned you.”

  “I’m quite delighted myself that Nancy came along,” Mr. Hudson spoke up as he vigorously rubbed his hands and feet where the ropes had been. “I never thought an old sea dog like myself would get sick of being on a boat, but this is one boat I’m eager to quit for good.”

  “Did Curran give you anything to eat?” Nancy asked.

  “No,” Mr. Hudson answered. “I think he was afraid that if he undid the gag I would yell—and I would have, too.”

  “We haven’t seen Curran,” Captain Doyle informed them.

  “He dived down to the wreck,” Nancy said. “He’s picking up the doubloons they stole from the ranger station.”

  “Curran and Huber stole the gold?” the captain gasped.

  Nancy nodded. “Perhaps if I confront Huber he’ll confess.”

  Captain Doyle approved Nancy’s plan. They climbed out of the hatch. Unassisted, Nancy jumped off the catamaran onto the Coast Guard boat.

  Huber sat, sour and sulky, between the two sailors. They were so much bigger than the ranger that he looked like a naughty child.

  “Curran and Huber were partners,” Nancy began. “Working nights, Curran cut a hole in the ranger station floor from the water below. Huber drove thin spikes through the floor under his desk so Curran would know where to cut. The ranger also covered up any marks and made the latch for the trapdoor.”

  “Why didn’t we see Curran?” Captain Doyle asked.

  “He submerged and surfaced in the middle of his catamaran,” Nancy explained. “After the trapdoor was finished,” she continued, “Huber pretended he had left his glasses in the station so he could run back in. Then he dropped the chest of gold through the trapdoor and replaced it with the skull.”

  “Where did they get the skull?” Captain Doyle questioned Nancy.

  “From the Lancaster,” Nancy replied. “Curran dropped the headless skeleton on me when I went down there.”

  “The idiot!” Huber cried out angrily.

  Nancy continued to ignore the ranger. “Curran picked up the gold as soon as it got dark and hid it in the wreck at dawn. When the Coast Guard searched his catamaran the next day they found nothing.”

  “That’s when I entered the scene,” Colin Hudson volunteered. “I ran into Curran that morning after I talked to you, Nancy. He overheard me telling of my interest in the Lancaster and offered to take me to her.”

  “You must have found the gold,” Nancy commented.

  “Yes, I did,” the old sailor affirmed. “
I know the insides of the Lancaster better than I know myself. After I found it, this chap Curran, who hadn’t bargained on me ever finding his loot, gave me rather a nasty knock on the head and, I guess, hauled me back to his catamaran.”

  “We must have searched it already,” Captain Doyle said.

  “Curran tried to stop me from exploring the wreck by dropping the skeleton on my head when I went out there the following morning,” Nancy added. “That gave me an idea about where the skull had come from. Then I thought of a trapdoor. I thought Blackbeard had come to get me for a moment there!”

  “You ruined everything,” Huber exploded.

  “Curran should surface any minute now,” Nancy warned Captain Doyle.

  “We’ll make sure to grab him when he does,” the captain declared.

  Caught red-handed after surfacing with the gold and seeing his partner in custody, Curran confessed his part in the theft and kidnapping.

  “Caught by a girl,” he muttered dejectedly.

  That evening, Nancy, Bess, George, and Mr. Hudson enjoyed a tasty dinner prepared by the grateful Ranger Lane and his wife.

  “If you’ll take a walk with me, I have a surprise for you,” the ranger announced when they finished, his eyes twinkling.

  He led his guests to George Habab’s store. The old fellow sat on the porch grinning, his banjo in his hands. Without saying a word, he began to play and sing. “Here’s the ballad of Nancy Drew,” he began. The song went on to describe Nancy’s adventures on Pelican Island.

  Captivated, she and her friends listened intently. When the islander finished, they clapped loudly.

  “It’s even better than my Blackbeard song,” George Habab claimed.

  “You promised to play that for me,” Nancy reminded him. The banjoist began, and Bess’s eyes widened as the song told the story of Blackbeard’s bloody death.

  Nancy smiled and nodded her thanks, then asked, “Would you mind playing your British sailor song for Mr. Hudson?”

  “Where is Mr. Hudson?” George asked. Everyone looked around. The old man had disappeared. Nancy finally told her friends how she had found the British man’s name on the list of deceased at the cemetery.

  “Reckon he came back to help us out, to kind of return the favor for us building that British cemetery,” George Habab whispered softly.

  “Without him, no one would have thought to go to the Lancaster,” Nancy commented.

  Then she looked at Bess, whose face had turned pale. “That’s okay,” Bess assured her friend, “I guess I can handle nice ghosts.”

  The Ghost Jogger

  One evening, Nancy and her close friends, Bess and George, joined the young people of River Heights who gathered in the park to jog. The three girls became separated, however.

  Nancy found herself running beside a figure wearing a long white cape, with a hood that completely covered his face.

  Weird jogging outfit, she thought.

  A moment later, the figure stuck his hand out, holding in it a folded note. The young detective quickly grabbed it, and unfolded it as she ran. The ink was mysteriously faded. But after staring at it closely she read:

  NANCY, FIND THEM IN THE EMPTY BARN WITH THE FLAMING HORSE ON IT.

  —THE FAMILY GHOST

  “Who are you?” she asked, turning abruptly.

  The ghostly being had disappeared!

  Nancy’s pulse skipped a beat. What was this strange vision?

  Nancy tried to find the hooded ghost, but he had vanished in the evening dusk. She ran up to passing joggers and asked if they had seen him. Most of them said no, but two pointed off among some trees.

  Nancy ran to the wooded area, but failed to locate the mysterious figure. As she started back, her pulse skipped another beat. For a moment, she thought she saw a flash of white in between the trees, but when she arrived at the spot there was nothing there.

  Anxiously, the girl detective hurried back to the joggers, joined them to the park entrance, then dashed outside. Minutes later she reached home and burst into the living room.

  Hannah Gruen, the motherly housekeeper for Nancy and her father, was in the den watching a newscast on TV. She looked up quickly and gasped.

  “Nancy, you’re as white as a sheet. This jogging is too much for you. You’d better ease up a bit.”

  “Oh, Hannah, dear, I’m all right. I just had a little scare, that’s all.”

  “A mugger?” Mrs. Gruen asked nervously.

  “No. A ghost.” Nancy told Mrs. Gruen about the incident.

  “I wonder …” the housekeeper said, but did not go on.

  “You wonder what?” Nancy prodded her.

  “If a story on the news could tie in with your adventure.”

  “What was the newscast about?” Nancy asked.

  “That two children, a brother and sister, aged eight and ten, are missing. It’s not known if they ran away deliberately, wandered off and are lost, or were kidnapped. The police have no clues.”

  “How dreadful!” Nancy replied, then perked up. “And you think, Hannah, that the ghost jogger may know something about it?”

  Mrs. Gruen smiled. “I’ll go a step further. I think he wants you to solve the mystery!”

  “Why, Hannah, you’re becoming a regular armchair investigator,” Nancy commented with a grin. “I wonder if you could possibly be right,” she added, turning her attention to the newscast and hoping the segment about the children would be repeated. It was not. She turned the dial on the set to several other channels but learned nothing more about the case.

  Nancy turned off the television and sat lost in thought. What should she do? Work on the clue the ghost had given her, or wait until she saw him again? A few minutes later, Nancy picked up the phone and called George. “No, I’m all right,” Nancy spoke from her end of the line, “but I had a terrible scare in the park after we were separated. Can you go with me tomorrow morning to chase down a clue or two?”

  “Sure. A new mystery?”

  “I think so. Okay. I’ll pick you up at ten. Is Bess free?”

  “No. I think she has plans tomorrow.”

  As soon as George was in Nancy’s car the next day, she asked for a full explanation of where they were going and why.

  “We have to find a deserted barn with a flaming red horse on it.”

  “Sounds rather hard to find,” George commented. “What’s the story?”

  “I’m not sure, but possibly those two missing children are being held there.”

  “Wow!” George exclaimed. “And you expect me to help you rescue them?”

  “You guessed it.”

  “I’ll take a raincheck,” said George with a joking smile. “If this is a kidnapping case, what’s the ransom?”

  For an answer Nancy told her friend about the ghostly being that passed a note to her. “Then Hannah heard the broadcast about the missing children and put two and two together. We may be on a wild goose chase, but if you’re game—”

  “You mean a wild horse chase!” George chimed in. “Okay, Nancy, let’s go. But where to?”

  “I wish I knew,” Nancy replied. “Just keep your sharp eyes open.”

  She drove for several miles into the country before they saw a barn that appeared deserted.

  “Look!” cried George. “A hex sign with a flaming red horse.”

  Nancy stopped the car behind some bushes near the entrance to a weed-filled driveway. “We’d better walk in,” she said.

  As they neared the old barn the girls became aware of voices inside. “I don’t want to go to the lake. I want to go home!” cried a high-pitched voice. I wonder if it’s a child’s, Nancy thought.

  Nancy and George quietly sneaked up to a side door of the old barn. They were just in time to see two men and a woman. One man was holding a little girl, who was struggling to get away. The other man, dark-haired and heavy-set, carried a boy, who was kicking and punching his captor.

  “Stop that, you brat!” the man commanded, but the boy did not
obey.

  “Help! Help!” the little girl cried out.

  The two men, grasping the children tightly, rushed out the big front door of the barn toward a waiting dark-colored station wagon. They put the boy and girl in the back, then jumped into the front seat. The woman had gone ahead, started the car, and now sent it roaring off.

  “Quick!” Nancy exclaimed. “Let’s go!”

  She and George raced back to her car and in seconds were following the station wagon along the country road. Suddenly Nancy groaned. Her convertible was slowing down. The needle on the gas gauge pointed to EMPTY. As the engine finally died, Nancy turned the car off the road.

  While this was going on, George kept her eyes focused on the fleeing station wagon. At a fork in the road just ahead it took the branch to the left and disappeared.

  “Rotten luck, Nancy, and we never got close enough to get the license number,” George exclaimed. “If only we knew where they were headed. Those poor children. That gas gauge must have been stuck. It registered almost full when we started.”

  “I know,” Nancy replied with concern. “We’ve got to track those people down somehow. I guess now my only chance is seeing the ghost jogger tonight in the park.”

  George stepped out of the car and waved down an oncoming truck. The kindly driver offered to stop at a service station. There he arranged for an attendant to bring back a can of gasoline to the girls, which he did promptly, poured the fuel into the thirsty tank, then left.

  At the first opportunity they called the police with the information. But as Nancy suspected, with nothing but the station wagon as a lead, there was little hope of finding the children.

  This time George took the wheel and soon was pulling up in front of her house. “Call me later, Nancy, and let me know what happens—and be careful!”

  “I promise,” Nancy replied, moving over to the driver’s seat to head home.

  Once there, she quickly changed into her warm-up suit and by seven o’clock was down at the park. The weather had turned cool and it was now drizzling.