Table of Contents
Title Page
Acknowledgements
Copyright Page
CHAPTER I - The Perfume Cart
CHAPTER II - An Intriguing Story
CHAPTER III - Ghost in the Cave
CHAPTER IV - Nancy Vanishes
CHAPTER V - A Warning Message
CHAPTER VI - Suspicious Actions
CHAPTER VII - A Mysterious Malady
CHAPTER VIII - The Collector
CHAPTER IX - Cobweb Cottage
CHAPTER X - A Puzzling Disappearance
CHAPTER XI - The Chemist’s Report
CHAPTER XII - The Candlemaker Helps
CHAPTER XIII - The Runaway
CHAPTER XIV - AThreat
CHAPTER XV - Spanish Scheme
CHAPTER XVI - The Telescope Spy
CHAPTER XVII - Important Identification
CHAPTER XVIII - The Hidden Door
CHAPTER XIX - Trapped!
CHAPTER XX - The Bell’s Secret
MYSTERY OF THE TOLLING BELL
Nancy becomes involved in a maze of mystery when she accepts an invitation from Mrs. Chantrey, a client of Mr. Drew, to vacation at her cottage in a picturesque seaside town. Carson Drew has promised to join his daughter, but fails to arrive. The alarming disappearance of Mr. Drew and the odd circumstances surrounding his rescue are only the start of a series of highly dangerous adventures for Nancy and her friends Bess and George.
Mrs. Chantrey’s story about a nearby cliffside cave reputedly inhabited by a ghost intrigues Nancy and she decides to investigate. Several frightened townspeople claim to have seen an apparition and heard the weird sounds of a tolling bell just before water rushes from the cave. What Nancy discovers and how she outwits a ring of swindlers will thrill all admirers of the courageous young detective.
“This is what I had hoped to find!” Nancy exclaimed.
Acknowledgement is made to Mildred Wirt Benson, who under the pen name Carolyn Keene, wrote the original NANCY DREW books
Copyright © 1973, 1946 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 : 978-1-101-07724-5
2007 Printing
http://us.penguingroup.com
CHAPTER I
The Perfume Cart
“NANCY, aren’t we almost at Candleton? I’m tired of riding.”
An athletic-looking girl, with short dark hair and the boyish name of George Fayne, stretched wearily in the convertible as it sped toward the ocean.
Nancy Drew, eighteen and attractive, was driving. She shrugged her shoulders and breathed deeply of the tangy salt air. A gust of wind blew her reddish-golden hair across her eyes. Tossing it aside, she smiled at the two girls seated with her: Bess Marvin and George. who were cousins.
“A few more miles,” Nancy replied. “But it’s worth waiting for.”
“You mean because of the mystery at Candleton?” Bess asked teasingly. She was blond and pretty. “Right now I’m more interested in food.”
“You shouldn’t be!” George said bluntly, glancing at her cousin’s slightly plump figure.
Nancy laughed. “We have to eat, calories or not. Perhaps we’ll come to a fishing village where we can get some lobster.”
The three girls, who lived in River Heights, were en route to Gandleton on White Cap Bay. They had been invited to spend a brief vacation there as guests of Mrs. John Chantrey. She was a close friend and client of Nancy’s father, a well-known lawyer. He was to meet the girls at her home in the small town.
“I think your father was smart to make the trip by plane instead of riding with us,” Bess observed as the car swung around another sharp curve. “At least he won’t die of starvation.”
“This is really a business trip for Dad,” Nancy said. “Poor Mrs. Chantrey was swindled out of a lot of money. Dad’s trying to get it back.”
“How did it happen?” George asked.
“Dad didn’t tell me many of the details,” Nancy replied. “But he did hint at mystery. Mrs. Chantrey is a lovely person. I hope we can help her.”
“She runs a tearoom?” George inquired.
“Yes. Mrs. Chantrey opened a gift shop and tearoom to make a livelihood for herself after she lost most of her money.”
“I was hoping the mystery at Candleton would be about something more romantic than money,” Bess remarked in disappointment.
Nancy’s eyes twinkled. “There’s another mystery!” she said. “Mrs. Chantrey mentioned in her letter that ghostly and unexplainable things happen along the coast of White Cap Bay.”
George was interested at once. “Are you going to work on that, too?”
“All three of us are!” was the reply.
Nancy’s young life had been crammed with adventure. Daughter of an eminent criminal lawyer, she was unusually sensible, clever, and talented.
Mrs. Drew had died when Nancy was three years old and Hannah Gruen had become the Drews’ housekeeper. The kindly woman was like a mother to Nancy and was constantly warning her to be cautious while solving mysteries.
“If the three of us can’t solve the two mysteries—” Nancy began.
“Look!” Bess interrupted, pointing to a sign. “Fisher’s Cove! We’re coming to a town!”
The road curved and twisted, then abruptly a cluster of quaint, unpainted houses came into view. Fishnets were drying on lines in the back yards. Children stopped their play and stared at the car.
“Apparently few tourists come into town this way,” Nancy commented, steering carefully to avoid a street peddler who carried a basket of fish on his head. “We seem to be curiosities!”
The girls looked hopefully for a place to eat. As Nancy turned left onto Main Street, they saw two hotels and several restaurants. Bess noted a sign with the name Wayside Inn and an arrow pointing up a narrow lane.
“Let’s go there,” she suggested.
Presently they came to a freshly painted, white house overlooking the surf. It proved to be cool, clean, and inviting. Although it was late for luncheon, the woman in charge assured the girls she could serve them.
The trio found the meal very appetizing. In addition to lobster and puffed shrimp there were tomatoes, coleslaw, potatoes, hot biscuits, lemonade, and apple pie.
“I know I’ve gained a dozen pounds!” Bess moaned as they paid their bill and left the inn.
“I feel like a puffed shrimp myself!” groaned George. “Let’s walk around Fisher’s Cove awhile for exercise before we drive on.”
Although eager to reach Candleton, Nancy agreed to the suggestion. They took a path which led from the sandy shore to the shopping area of the village.
Here the girls found an interesting combination of the old and the new. An ancient surrey rattled past, drawn by a tired-looking white horse. The reins were held by an elderly man with a long, flowing beard.
Then a high-powered sports car sped by, a pretty girl at the wheel. Natives were a striking contrast to members of the summer colony who wore scanty beach clothes.
“Look!” cried Nancy suddenly as the girls reached a corner. “Isn’t that attractive?”
From a side street came the musical tinkle of a bell. Then a dark-haired, heavy-set woman pushing a flower-decked cart came into view. Seeing the girls, she moved briskly toward them.
“Wonder what she’s selling,” Bess said in an undertone.
Dangling from a wire stretched between two poles on either side of the cart
were strings of tiny red metal hearts and a little bell. The woman, who looked to be of foreign birth, wore a red skirt and white blouse with a large red heart embroidered on one sleeve. As she came alongside the girls, she addressed them in a torrent of words.
“You buy from Madame? I sell all zese articles for beautyment. Come see.” She held up a bottle of perfume, some face powder, and a lipstick. Then she rolled her eyes and smiled. “Zese products make mademoiselle adored by the boy friend!”
Bess, intrigued by the display of cosmetics, fingered a large heart-shaped compact.
“Very chic—very cheap,” the woman said in a singsong voice. “Seven dollars, please.”
“But I don’t wish to buy,” Bess stammered, putting the compact back on the cart.
“You like better the perfume?” Before Bess could retreat, the woman had uncorked a tiny heart-shaped flask which she waved beneath Bess’s nose. “One drop of this, and piff! The boy friend is yours!”
By this time a large number of persons had gathered about the cart. Many in the crowd were young girls.
“Just like in New York,” Madame announced proudly. “Sold only in the best salons.”
“I don’t recall seeing the brand name before,” Nancy remarked, observing that all the cosmetic containers bore the French words Mon Coeur.
“It means ‘my heart,’ ” translated Madame.
“How much?” inquired a rather unattractive, large-boned girl with blond hair.
The woman named a high figure.
“That’s a lot of money,” the blond girl commented.
“I give you demonstration to go with it.”
Madame took the bill offered her, then quickly applied the cosmetics to the girl’s face. The woman’s sales talk convinced other bystanders. They bought the Mon Coeur products freely, while the blond girl walked to a shopwindow and looked in the side mirror. To the surprise of Nancy and George she liberally put on more of the cosmetics. Then, apparently satisfied but vulgarly conspicuous, she went down the street.
Bess was intrigued by Madame and could not resist the temptation to buy. “I’ll take a small bottle of perfume,” she decided.
Madame snatched the money.
“Bess!” remonstrated George. “You don’t know a thing about Mon Coeur products!”
“My things are of the finest,” Madame retorted.
“Bess, do come away,” Nancy urged.
Quick as a flash Madame thrust the bottle into Bess’s hand and snatched the money the girl had taken from her purse.
“Is this perfume the same as in the sample bottle?” Bess asked.
“They all the same,” snapped the woman. She quickly gave Bess the change, then hurriedly walked down the street with her cart.
In her haste to get away, Madame cut directly across the road. The little bell jangled and the heart-shaped decorations swung back and forth.
At the same time the surrey with the old white horse which the girls had seen earlier jogged down the street. Its driver dozed at the reins. Suddenly a car backfired, frightening his mare. She gave a startled snort. Before the elderly driver realized what was happening, the animal bolted straight toward the woman and her cart!
With a scream of terror, Madame abandoned the cart and raced for safety. The horse plunged along wildly, pulling the surrey over the curb, then back into the roadway again. All the pedestrians had run for cover.
The flower-decked cart stood in the middle of the street, directly in the path of the runaway horse. Nancy darted out and wheeled the cart to safety. An instant later the horse flashed by. Not until the mare had gone another block did the driver regain control.
“Nancy, you might have been killed!” Bess cried out. She was trembling.
“It was a courageous thing to do, but silly!” George said. “Madame’s cosmetics aren’t worth the risk you took!”
“I agree with you,” Nancy said, parking the cart under an awning. “I acted impulsively.”
“Let’s go!” George urged.
Without waiting for Madame to return, the three friends started to cross the street. As Nancy stepped from the curb an excited woman rushed up and seized her arm.
“You’re the one!” she screamed. “I’m goin’ to have you arrested!”
Startled, Nancy retreated a step. But the stranger held tightly onto her arm.
“You’re a thief, and you’ve got no business in this town!” she shouted. “You’ve ruined my daughter and taken her money! Police! Police!”
CHAPTER II
An Intriguing Story
NANCY pulled herself free from the excited woman. By this time Bess and George, seeing that their friend was in difficulty, darted to Nancy’s side.
“Police! Police!” the woman screamed again. “My daughter’s been robbed!”
“Who is your daughter?” Nancy asked her.
“You should know! You sold her that stuff to put on her cheeks and lips and eyelids! It made her look like a freak!”
Nancy now understood. “Then your daughter is one of the girls who bought several things from Madame with the cart.”
“That’s right. The big blond girl,” the woman replied, “and it’s you she bought them from. You needn’t look so innocent! I saw you wheeling that cart when the horse ran away!”
Nancy explained that Madame sold the cosmetics, not she. Bess and George supported her story, but the woman would not listen.
“I want my money back!” she stormed. “My husband and I saved it up raisin’ chickens. We gave Minnie fifteen dollars to buy a pair o’ shoes and some other things she needed. Then along you come with that awful stuff and rob her! What’s worse, you encourage her to paint herself up like an Indian warrior! I’ll have the law on you!”
By this time a group of curious onlookers had gathered about them.
“Oh—oh, here comes a policeman!” George muttered to Nancy.
“What’s going on, ladies?” the patrolman asked as he hurried up to the group.
“This girl robbed me!” the woman accused Nancy.
“That is untrue, Officer. This woman has mistaken me for someone else,” Nancy said quietly.
“Then where is the other person?” demanded Nancy’s accuser.
The girls turned to gaze toward the spot where they had left the cart. It was gone! Madame must have taken it away.
“I want my money back!” the woman resumed her tirade.
“See here,” the policeman said sternly, “you’re creating an unnecessary disturbance. Exactly what is your charge against this young lady?”
“That she sold my daughter a lot of worthless things the girl doesn’t need!”
At that moment a man stepped up to the group, introduced himself as Professor Atkins, and said he had seen the whole episode from down the street. Smiling at Nancy, he told how she had saved the flower-decked cart and had not received so much as a thank-you from its owner.
The woman turned pale. “I–I guess I’ve made a mistake,” she muttered.
She retreated hastily. Nancy thanked the professor. Then, eager to leave, she quickly led the way to her car and drove out of town.
En route to Candleton, Bess opened the bottle of Mon Coeur perfume she had bought. After she had sniffed the perfume, the girl gazed at her companions a bit sheepishly.
“I’m afraid I was gypped,” she said. “This isn’t as good as the sample.”
“It’s fragrant, anyway,” Nancy remarked as Bess held the bottle under her friend’s nose.
Then George sniffed at the bottle. “Take my advice and throw it away.”
“And waste all my money?” Bess recorked the bottle. “No. I’ll keep it.”
The road no longer offered the monotonous scenery it had on the other side of Fisher’s Cove. Instead it ran lazily along moors carpeted with low-growing juniper, and at points the rocks split into colorful masses over which the sea’s filmy spray leaped playfully.
“We’re not far from Candleton now,” Nancy declared as c
liffs loomed in the distance.
The car rounded a sharp bend, and the girls caught their first glimpse of White Cap Bay. Never before had they seen such a stretch of beautiful water. Once only a fishing town, the little village of Candleton was now a fashionable summer resort with gleaming white cottages and fine hotels.
Mrs. Chantrey’s attractive home stood some distance from the beach, just beyond the business section of the town. Nancy pulled to a stop in front of the house.
A woman about fifty opened the door, and smilingly said that she was June Barber and lived with Mrs. Chantrey. She helped the girls carry their luggage to the guest room, and explained that her friend was at the tearoom. Mrs. Chantrey had left word that the visitors were to make themselves at home.
“Has my father arrived?” Nancy asked.
“Not yet,” June replied.
“I guess he was delayed,” said Nancy, hoping that nothing was wrong.
“Let’s go down to the tearoom,” George suggested.
The girls quickly changed their clothes and set out, taking a short cut that led directly to the beach. Wandering slowly along the waterfront, they saw many old-time fishermen’s houses which had been converted into artists’ studios. Men and women sat in the dazzling sunlight, sketching the boats which lay at anchor in the bay.
“What can the mystery be that’s disturbing Candleton?” Nancy mused. “Everything seems very peaceful here.”
“Yes, it does,” Bess agreed.
Presently the girls saw Mrs. Chantrey’s tearoom, the Salsandee Shop. Bright-colored umbrellas dotted its outdoor dining area and garden. Every chair was taken.
“What a clever name Salsandee is!” Bess observed, after Nancy explained the tearoom specialized in salads and sandwiches. “What does the ‘dee’ stand for?”
“I don’t know. We’ll have to ask Mrs. Chantrey.”
The girls went inside. They were delighted by the cozy decor and the beautiful flower candles on the tables. The room was just as crowded as the garden.
A harassed waitress moved swiftly about, trying to take a dozen orders. Nervous and confused, she showed her annoyance as Nancy stopped her to inquire for Mrs. Chantrey.