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Where Is Carson Drew?






 

Nancy's face was stricken, her lower lip trembled, and she was on the verge of tears. As the lights were switched on in the warehouse, she heard a detective shout, " Don't touch anything! Don't touch anything! "

Señ or Segovia was white with anger, the muscles in his jaw twitching. Nancy saw his lips moving and knew that he was saying something in Spanish but she didn't know what. When he had gotten some control over himself, he came over to where she was standing.

" I don't know what could have gone wrong, " he said. 'Tm sure your father was here! " He beat one clenched fist into the palm of his other hand.

" I know it, too, " Nancy said. She was staring at a stack of cartons with different names printed on them. On one, the letter D had been scribbled with a ball-point pen.

" You see—'' Nancy traced the outline with her finger, " —how the lines are extended a bit? That's our signal. Dad made this mark to let us know he was here.''

Señ or Segovia studied the letter. ''You are right! " he cried out excitedly. ''That proves he was here. So my informant wasn't wrong. We just weren't quick enough! "

Nancy nodded. " I'd like to check around some more. Perhaps there's another clue we haven't found yet."

" Sure. Let's go ahead."

But an extensive search by both Nancy and the detectives brought nothing to light. When everyone was ready to leave, Señ or Segovia turned to Nancy. " ril have to stay in Miami and contact various people who might know something about this. Do you want to drive the Volkswagen home or shall I have the police take you? "

" I'll drive, thank you, " Nancy said. " I remember the way quite well."

" Good. I'll call you as soon as I have more information."

The search party left the warehouse, and minutes later Nancy was on her way back to the mansion. Her mind was racing and something was nagging her about the clue she had found, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Finally, she realized what it was. She remembered storage cartons in the warehouse all standing neatly in a row. Different names were printed on them. The one with the letter D bore the inscription " Belfont.'' Had her father chosen that particular carton for a reason? Was Belfont the place he had been taken?

" Belfont, " Nancy said aloud. ''It sounds like a hotel. Maybe it's out of business and the company that owns the warehouse bought things from them. I’d better find out! "

She pulled up in front of a restaurant and went inside to use the telephone. Quickly, she dialed the Miami police department. A sleepy voice answered and she asked for Señ or Segovia.

" He isn't here, " was the curt answer.

''May I speak to Detective Gomez, please? " Nancy said.

''He's not here, either. Who is this? "

" Nancy Drew."

" Well, you'd better call back in the morning."

" Tell me, where's the Hotel Belfont? " Nancy pressed.

" Belfont? There's no such thing. There was a hotel in town by that name, but it's been closed for several years now, " the policeman replied.

" Can you tell me where it is? "

" I don't remember the street. All I know is that it's in a rundown area."

" Perhaps someone else knows the address? " Nancy continued, not wanting to give up.

There was a moment of silence, then the officer came back on the line. " It's on Huston Street. But as I said before, it's in a bad part of town. You wouldn't want to go there, especially at night."

" Thanks, " Nancy said, and hung up. She went into the dining room and asked several people how to get to Huston Street. Finally, one of the patrons was able to give her directions. Before he, too, could warn her about the neighborhood, she thanked him and ran back to her car.

On the way to the hotel, she became worried. Maybe I should have told that policeman what it's all about and asked for an escort, she thought. Oh, well, it's too late now. I don't want to waste any more time. Dad might be in bad trouble!

Finally, she found herself in the middle of broken and sagging buildings. Trash cans were knocked over on the sidewalk and two cats started a fight down an alley to her right. She stopped the car and let her eyes sweep all around her while her ears picked up each new and strange noise of the night. From somewhere, she could hear a radio and she saw shadowy lights here and there. But there were no other human beings in sight and no building that had been painted or cared for during the past several years.

On the opposite side of the street a bit further down, her headlights picked out the letters BE FON HOTEL. She shivered. What a terrible place for her father to be held captive! She got out her flashlight and walked away from the car.

Crash!

Nancy almost jumped out of her skin. Wide-eyed and breathing hard, her back against a wall, she looked quickly left and right to see what had made the dreadful noise. Then she recognized the source of the racket. A garbage can rolled out of an alleyway, teetered on the edge of the curb, crashed into the gutter and came to rest.

A cat or dog probably knocked it over, Nancy thought. But she couldn't be sure and she felt the palms of her hands grow moist. What a difference between this scene and the huge bathtub at the Segovia mansion, with the black soap and the lovely, soft towels!

She was beginning to feel despair and panic now. Suppose the Belfont clue was not correct after all? Suppose Señ or Segovia had already found out where Carson Drew was really being held? Suppose someone came out of the dark and attacked her?

But Nancy resolutely pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Squaring her shoulders, she walked up to the decrepit building that had once apparently been a respectable hotel. When she got there, a new shock awaited her. Every door and window was boarded over with wood and metal. There was no way to get in!

Once again, Nancy felt like giving up on her lonely effort. She considered calling the police, but finding a phone booth in this neighborhood was like trying to find gold. There simply were no phones visible.

She continued to examine the Belfont, bit by bit. Finally, she walked up on the big, decaying porch, feeling the boards sag under her feet. She carefully checked the doors and windows to see if there were some crack, some opening where she could pry away the boards and the metal in order to squeeze inside. But there was nothing.

Then she went back and looked up at the second story. There was a roof over the first-floor porch, and the windows on the second floor were not boarded. But she saw that it would be impossible to climb up the shiny, smooth pillars that supported the roof.

" If Dad's really in there, the crooks must have taken him through some kind of entrance, " she said softly. " Of course, they'd make sure it's well hidden. If only I could find it! "

She stepped back on the porch again and suddenly felt her heel sink into the flooring. Startled, she leaped to the side. Then she carefully shielded her flashlight and turned it on the spot where the wood had given way.

Of course! Trying to go through the doors and windows was foolish because the wood was relatively new and the galvanized metal was firmly in place. But the original wood of the hotel, particularly the floor of the porch, was badly rotted. Perhaps she could get in by simply pulling away a few boards!

Eagerly, Nancy dropped to her knees and felt around. She found the spot with the hole, reached in with her fingers, and got a grip on the edge of the broken board. Then she pulled. Groaning, the board came up, broke, and sent her sprawling backwards!

 

Rats

 

To Nancy, the noise was like a Fourth of July firecracker. For a full ten seconds, she lay back against the wall, convinced that she had awakened the entire neighborhood. If the crooks were actually holding her father in the Belfont, they must surely be looking for her by now!

But then Nancy took a deep breath. " Get hold of yourself, " she whispered. Probably, the noise had not been nearly so loud as she thought. Apparently, it had done nothing to arouse the neighbors, since not even a dog barked in response.

Carefully, she got back up on her knees and felt for the hole she had made. She found that it was a good six inches wide and almost two feet long. Thank heavens for the big, wide boards they used in those old buildings! If she could pry loose one more, she could probably squeeze through the opening.

She felt around for the next board. Luckily, it was almost completely rotted away. It came loose in her hands with half of it crumbling. She noticed a whiff of musty air rising out of the hole. Now, if she could just squeeze through!

''Oh! " Nancy groaned. ''If only I had dieted a little more the night before we left River Heights, instead of eating all that pizza and pistachio ice cream! "

She started to put her feet through the hole, and then stopped. What was she doing, dropping through a hole on the porch of this terrible, old hotel? How did she know what was waiting for her below? It could be anything!

Hastily pulling her feet back, she reached for her flashlight and flicked it on. There was a dirt floor not far below her. Of course, she thought, there's just a crawlspace under the porch. The real basement probably starts back ten feet at the hotel wall.

Nancy again put her feet through the hole and disappeared under the porch. Then she moved slowly toward the building, looking for an opening. What if they had nailed up everything down here, too? But she dismissed that idea when a worse thought struck her. Suppose the place had no basement? Houses were often constructed that way in Florida because the closeness of the sea made it hard to keep the water out.

But to her relief, she found an unboarded window with all the glass broken out. She shone her flashlight through and detected the basement floor about four feet down. Quickly, she crawled through the opening, and felt a heavy pipe just to her right. Putting her hands around it, she pulled her hips and legs through the window, hung for a moment, then dropped to the floor.

She found herself in the dirtiest cellar she had ever seen. It was heaped with boxes and barrels and cans. Every known type of junk and refuse was piled and thrown about in heaps and hillocks. The dust lay almost a half inch thick, sending up clouds when she moved.

" Boy, " Nancy said, half aloud. " If Hannah could see this. What a cleaning she'd give it." But thinking of the Drews' beloved housekeeper made her remember her father. He probably was somewhere in this awful place, and she had to find him!

Carefully, Nancy got to her feet and began moving through the debris. She had taken two or three tentative steps when she heard an uproar of snarls and squeals. A dozen soft but heavy-feeling bodies exploded around her, banging into her legs. Nancy knew from the horrible sound emerging from under her right foot that she had stepped on the tail of a rat! Apparently, she had walked directly through a nest of rats that now seemed on all sides of her!

Somehow, she had the presence of mind not to scream. Instead, she simply took off as if she were running the hundred-yard dash, diving through the tangled jungle of the basement until she had put some distance between her and the rats.

She had learned about rodents as a result of a school study she had done on their habits. Therefore, she was aware of the fact that people's fear of rats often got out of control. Rats avoided humans whenever they could and never attacked anyone if they could run away instead. But a rat whose tail had been stepped on had every reason to believe that if was being attacked. Nancy considered it a real miracle she had not been bitten before getting away from the nest.

She now shone her flashlight everywhere as she walked, not only on the floor but along the shelves, where a rat might be strolling or sitting. But the animals had been warned, and she felt more and more assured that they had all gone into hiding.

Again her thoughts went to her father. Suppose he were tied up, helpless, somewhere? Suppose he had been left on the floor with those rats around? They wouldn't bother anyone who could move, but what would happen to a person bound hand and foot?

Nancy shuddered and climbed up the stairs to the first floor. She hurried from room to room, shielding her light, listening cautiously, waiting for some sound or sight that would give her a clue as to Carson Drew's whereabouts.

Then, up ahead, she saw a faint light. It was only a tiny sliver of yellow under a door. Her heart pounded. It had to be her father and his captors! Who else would be in this place at this time of night?

Creeping slowly up to the door, Nancy put her ear to it and listened. She heard rough, guttural voices. She strained to hear her father's among them, but in vain. Out of desperation she grew bold and pushed the door slightly to create a crack to see through.

Peering in, she gasped. Her father was sitting upright in a chair to which he was bound. There was a cut on his head, and some blood had dried on his forehead, but otherwise he seemed unhurt.

Nancy's heart beat loudly and her hands began to shake.

Two men were in the room with Mr. Drew. One, an extremely tall, thin man looked like a cadaver since his skin was so white that it was almost transparent. The other, also tall, was swarthy, with a mustache and beard.

Desperately, Nancy searched her mind for some way to distract the crooks so she could free her father and escape. But before she could put any of her schemes into action, she felt a powerful arm grab her right wrist. Her hand was forced up behind her back and she was propelled into the room, a captive!

 


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