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  When Morgan opened the paper and saw the contents, his face turned white and he suddenly slumped to the floor.

  In the package lay a few stalks of blue larkspur!

  CHAPTER XI

  A Hazardous Drop

  QUICKLY Nancy knelt beside the unconscious servant.

  “Morgan!” she said urgently, and lightly slapped his cheek. He did not stir. She wet a clean towel at the sink and patted his face.

  A few moments later he moaned and muttered, “Last warning—tomorrow night—” Then his eyes opened and with Nancy’s help he managed to sit up.

  She called the others and while Mrs. Corning telephoned the doctor, the girls assisted the man to his room. Mr. Corning seated himself beside the bed, but Morgan would speak to no one.

  In a short time Dr. Bennett, an old friend of the family, arrived. He said the houseman had suffered a slight heart attack, and ordered him kept quiet.

  “That means no questions,” Nancy thought. She had been mulling over the significance of the larkspur in the package. She put them in a vase. When the doctor had gone, she led the rest of the group into the living room and told the whole story.

  “Larkspur again!” exclaimed George. “I don’t get it!”

  “That’s one of the clues in your other case, Nancy,” Bess said, puzzled.

  “Probably the two are connected,” the young sleuth replied. She told the Comings briefly about Mary Eldridge.

  Bess looked surprised. “Why, what could Morgan have to do with the old lady’s kidnappers?”

  “But Morgan has always been the soul of honesty,” protested Mrs. Corning.

  “Perhaps not always,” Nancy said gently. “I believe he may have a prison record—under another name, of course. It would explain why he needed forged recommendations. Now Adam Thorne wants repayment.”

  “Adam Thorne!” exclaimed George. “Why him?”

  “Because all the years Morgan worked for the Comings, no one bothered him, but after Adam Thorne broke out of prison, the friendship card arrived and the blue fire began.”

  Mr. Corning stirred uneasily. “You spoke of repayment. What did you mean?”

  “I think Thorne and his gang want to rob this house. Remember, the friendship card had no written message on it, but the picture showed a cottage with the door open.”

  “I see,” said Bess. “That was the message—open the door.”

  Mrs. Corning was pale. “Do you know when it is to be?”

  “Tomorrow night, I think,” replied Nancy. “I believe the larkspur was a signal to Morgan—his last chance to cooperate. Probably the gang showed the blue fire and abducted Morgan to intimidate him.”

  Mr. Corning’s face flushed with anger. “Scoundrels! We’ll get the police at once!”

  “Wait!” said Nancy. “This is only a theory. If we hold off until tomorrow night, we’ll see if we’re right. Maybe we can catch the thieves red-handed and solve both cases at once.”

  “But, in the meantime,” George said worriedly, “Morgan may have told the gang where you are.”

  Nancy nodded. “Yes, I’ve thought of that.”

  When Mr. Drew telephoned her a few minutes later he had disquieting news. The lawyer had reported to the police before flying to Chicago and asked them to keep in touch with him.

  “Lieutenant Mulligan informed me they had not been able to trace the kidnap car. Also, when they arrived at the Tooker estate it was deserted. The gang took the pigeons.”

  “I understand, Dad. My visit forced them to run. They’ll be more eager than ever to get me out of the picture.”

  An hour later Nancy, Ned, and their friends were watching the swimming races at Camp Hiawatha. In the fun and excitement she found it hard to remember the threat of danger. Cheers and singing filled the air as the young campers put all their high-spirited enthusiasm into the contests.

  When the swimming meet was over, she said, “It was great, Ned! Your little boys did so well!”

  “Thanks,” he said proudly. “Now we can go swimming. Burt and Dave and I have free time.”

  The boys showed their guests where to change into suits they had brought, then met them at the water’s edge. Tons of ocean sand had been transported overland to make a beach for the camp. A float was moored a few rods from shore with a tower and springboard for diving.

  The three couples swam out to the float on which a dozen young people were frolicking. Ned introduced everyone.

  “Oh, you’re the detective,” said one boy, playfully shielding his face with one arm.

  Nancy laughed. “I promise not to delve into any of your secrets.”

  George called, “But watch out, my friend!”

  Suddenly Ned asked, “How about a little diving?”

  One by one the group went off the high board. Presently it became an impromptu meet.

  “Nancy, show them that new one you just learned,” Bess urged.

  “I’ll try.” She smiled. “But I may flop.”

  As everyone watched, Nancy balanced upside down on the edge of the board for a breathtaking moment, then thrust herself off. Her body revolved in the air and straightened out so that her pointed toes cleaved the water like a knife. Down she plunged into the green waters of the lake, then bobbed to the surface to hear the cheers of the spectators.

  “Wonderful! Perfect!”

  Panting, Nancy climbed back onto the float. As she threw herself down in the sun to rest, Ned came over. “That was a beauty, Nancy.”

  “Just luck,” she insisted.

  Later, when Nancy swam ashore with her friends, she was met by Mr. Dennis, the camp director. “Great diving exhibition, young lady! How would you like a job as counselor?”

  “Thank you,” Nancy said, smiling, “but I already have a job.”

  “Well, you and your friends stay to dinner,” the man said cordially, “and the evening camp.”

  As he walked away, a bugle sounded. “We fellows must go now,” said Dave, “but we’ll take you home tonight after taps.”

  Nancy called Mrs. Corning to tell her they would not be home for dinner, then the girls went to the guest dining hall.

  During the meal two small boys appeared at their table with their arms full of parkas.

  “Ned and Dave and Burt sent you their coats,” piped the tallest.

  “ ‘Cause you didn’t bring yours,” said the other. They put the jackets on an empty chair and fled as the girls thanked them.

  It grew chilly after dinner and the trio were glad to put on the parkas and pull up the hoods.

  George flapped her dangling sleeves. “What a great fit this is!”

  “Now you can’t tell us apart,” said Bess.

  When it was dark, a long line of singing boys filed up a hill behind the camp. The girls followed their bobbing flashlights. At the top, the three stopped to look around. The wooded hill sloped steeply to a rocky drop-off. Fifteen feet below it was a huge bonfire.

  The girls watched the campers wind slowly down the path, and saw that the first ones were already seated on another slope to the far side of the fire.

  “Come on,” said Nancy, “but watch your step.”

  She went first, with George beside her and Bess on the right. As they picked their way downward they could hear the giant blaze crackling.

  Smoke billowed up and Bess paused, coughing. Suddenly a powerful push from behind knocked Bess off her feet.

  Screaming, she began to roll down the hill toward the drop-off and the leaping flames!

  CHAPTER XII

  The Crystal Garden

  “BESS!” George exclaimed, horror-stricken. “She’ll roll into the fire!”

  Nancy scrambled down the hill, George beside her. With a flying leap she threw herself on Bess and stopped her from rolling. At the same time, George skidded down and caught one of her cousin’s flailing arms. The girls lay gasping, only a few feet from the drop-off and the bonfire below.

  “Bess,” Nancy whispered, “are you hurt?”
/>   “N-no,” Bess said shakily. “Oh, Nancy, somebody pushed me! If you and George hadn’t...”

  Nancy looked grim. “I think someone mistook you for me. And I don’t want him to know he was wrong.”

  As she spoke, three counselors hurried down the hill toward them, calling, “What happened? Anybody hurt?”

  Nancy squeezed George’s hand. “We’ll pretend I am,” she whispered, then closed her eyes.

  “Yes,” George called out. “Nancy Drew! Please hurry. I’m afraid it’s bad.”

  “She’s unconscious!” quavered Bess.

  Moments later, a husky counselor was carrying Nancy up the hill while one of his companions ran ahead for the camp doctor.

  “And get Ned Nickerson,” George called.

  Forty minutes later Ned tenderly placed Nancy on the Comings’ living-room couch as Helen’s grandmother closed the draperies.

  “Okay,” said Ned. “All clear.” Only then did Nancy open her eyes and sit up.

  “You’re some actress, young lady,” said Mr. Corning.

  Nancy smiled. “I didn’t have to do anything. Ned and Bess and George were the real actors.”

  Bess giggled. “And the camp director and the doctor were good actors, too. Mr. Dennis insisted that we use his station wagon to bring Nancy home.”

  “I just hope we fooled the one who pushed Bess,” said Nancy.

  “Morgan must have told the gang you were here,” said George, “and one of them trailed us to the camp, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.”

  Ned frowned. “Someone probably is still watching this house. To make our act look really good, we ought to call the doctor for Nancy.”

  Mrs. Corning hurried off to put in the call. Soon she returned, and she reported that Dr. Bennett would be glad to cooperate.

  Nancy chuckled. “We’ll make the gang think I’m out of action. Then they’ll pay no more attention to me and I can work freely.”

  George spoke up. “I have a suggestion. If someone is watching this house, he’ll probably plan to speak to Morgan. How about Bess and me letting ourselves out the back door and watching?”

  “I’ll do it,” Ned offered.

  “No,” Mr. Corning said. “That would look too suspicious. I often take a little stroll outside before going to bed. In a few minutes one of you can follow me. While I’m out there no gangster will come to talk to Morgan through the window.”

  He waved aside objections and left the room.

  His wife said worriedly, “Oh, I hope everything will be all right. But suppose they strike here tomorrow night?”

  “I have a plan,” Nancy replied, “if Ned and Burt and Dave will help us.”

  “Sure we will,” said Ned. “It’s not our night off, but I know three fellows who’ll switch with us.”

  “The thieves probably will go for the safe,” said Bess.

  Mrs. Coming shook her head. “I’m afraid they’re after something very special. Come,” she added, seeing the questioning expressions of her guests, “I’ll show you.”

  As their hostess led the way down the hall, Nancy quietly outlined her plan to Ned. “I’ll tell the others later.”

  Across the hall from the kitchen, Mrs. Coming opened a door and flicked a wall switch. The room remained dark, but at the far side a tall glass cabinet lighted up.

  Bess gasped. “Oh, how beautiful!” She and the others stared, amazed. Inside was a sparkling array of crystal flowers and butterflies set on shelves lined with black velvet.

  “My husband gave me one of each on our wedding anniversaries,” Mrs. Corning explained as she led them to the case. “They are made in France. Every flower contains at least one valuable jewel.”

  Nancy noted a ruby glowing in the heart of a rose and a topaz set in a daffodil. The butterflies had diamonds for eyes.

  “How could the thieves have heard about these?” George asked.

  “My crystal garden was written up in a magazine some time ago,” Mrs. Corning replied.

  Nancy examined the case carefully. “Do you have a key for this?”

  Mrs. Corning showed her a tiny gold one which she wore on a chain around her neck.

  Just then the doctor arrived. He listened to the story of what had happened, then went to check on Morgan, who was much better.

  When leaving, Dr. Bennett called back through the open door for the benefit of any outside listener. “Miss Drew must remain in bed for at least forty-eight hours.”

  Ned followed the doctor and went to join Mr. Corning. Inside the house Nancy said to her friends, “Dr. Bennett played his part well.” Then she told them her plans for the next day.

  Half an hour later Mr. Corning and Ned reported no prowler near Morgan’s window. Ned said good night and returned to Camp Hiawatha.

  Shortly before dawn, Nancy ate a light breakfast, then slipped into the garage and hid behind the front seat of her car. At eight o’clock the other girls came out with a packet of sandwiches. George took the wheel and they drove off.

  When she was sure they were not being followed, George pulled to the side of the road and Nancy took the driver’s seat.

  “Now for the larkspur house!” she said happily.

  “But where is it?” Bess asked.

  Nancy said that since the Tooker estate lay southeast of River Heights and the pigeon and airplane both flew over it, the other headquarters were probably to the northwest.

  “I’ll try that, anyway.”

  After a while the road narrowed and there were no houses to be seen. The countryside was generously sprinkled with patches of woodland and open fields.

  The girls explored every side road. Most of these were merely lumber trails which ended within a short distance. At other times the searchers found a cabin and inquired if there was a sanatorium in the neighborhood. The answer was always No, and again Nancy would go on.

  Stopping only to eat their sandwiches, the girls rode all day, exploring the network of winding lanes. All three were tired, their nerves tense with the strain of being constantly on the alert.

  Finally Nancy glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Ten minutes past five,” she said. “We’d better go back.”

  Nancy turned the car and began retracing the route to the main highway. Suddenly she pressed down on the brake and they stopped short.

  “Sorry,” Nancy said, “but we just passed a sign that I didn’t see when we drove along here before.”

  She backed a dozen feet and halted opposite a narrow dirt road. Nailed to a tree was a crude, hand-lettered board: L. S. LANE.

  “What about it?” Bess asked. “That probably leads to the cabin of a lumberman whose name is L. S. Lane.”

  “And on the other hand,” said Nancy, “it could mean Larkspur Lane, and be a guide for the crooks.”

  “It’s worth investigating,” George remarked.

  Nancy turned into the narrow roadway, wide enough for only one car. But here and there the side bank had been cut to allow a vehicle to park while another passed it.

  Proceeding cautiously over ruts and bumps, Nancy presently pulled into one of the wider places on the right. She stopped the car close to the trees.

  “This might be the right place, so we had better go on foot,” Nancy said.

  She led the way among the trees, keeping parallel with the road. The girls trudged through the underbrush for nearly a quarter of a mile but saw nothing unusual. The only sounds were the crackle of twigs breaking underfoot.

  Suddenly Nancy halted. “Look!” she exclaimed softly. “Larkspur!”

  A dozen yards ahead the trees ended. Just beyond was a high wire-mesh fence. Inside it grew a long border of exquisite tall larkspur.

  To the girls’ left a large gate across the lane shut off the entrance to the grounds. Next to it stood a small brown lodge.

  “This is it!” Nancy whispered gleefully, and her friends nodded.

  Beyond the gate the ground sloped gently. A gravel roadway led to the top of the rise, where a large
white colonial dwelling with a broad veranda was visible among some trees.

  “It’s a beautiful place,” Bess said in a low voice. “I can’t believe crooks live here.”

  “We’ll soon find out,” said Nancy.

  Cautiously the three girls moved forward, taking advantage of every tree trunk and bush for concealment. There was no sign of habitation. If anyone was inside the gatehouse, he was not to be seen at the moment. Then, for an instant, a flash of white appeared in the distance near the brow of the hill.

  “Did you see that?” George whispered tensely. “I’m sure it was a nurse’s uniform.”

  “Listen! Do you hear a plane?” Nancy asked.

  The girls peered upward. Several minutes passed before the aircraft became visible. Then it shot overhead, flying low.

  “It’s the same type plane that wounded the bird!” Nancy said quickly. “And it’s like the one the hotel manager said flew into the Tooker estate. ... Yes, there is that flying horse on the fuselage. This is the place!”

  “Sure enough,” said George. “Down he goes. The landing field must be behind the house.”

  The plane dipped low, lost altitude rapidly, and vanished behind the roof of the mansion.

  “Now what do we do?” Bess asked.

  “There is only one thing left,” Nancy answered. “Somehow we must get inside!”

  CHAPTER XIII

  Baiting a Thief

  GEORGE frowned. “You’re not going to try getting into this place now, are you?”

  “No,” said Nancy. “I’d probably end up a prisoner.” She thought of the old lady who was being held against her will.

  “It’s getting late,” Bess put in. “We’d better go back to the Comings’.”

  “Yes,” Nancy agreed reluctantly. “We have our work cut out for us tonight.”

  “Why don’t you just tell the police where the sanatorium is?” Bess asked nervously. “Let them rescue Mrs. Eldridge.”

  Nancy shook her head. “We must get her to safety before the police raid starts. Otherwise, the gang might harm the poor woman to keep her from talking. We’ll have to find out exactly where they’re keeping her prisoner in the mansion.”