A Disastrous Jump

Chuck Wilson chatted cheerfully as he and Nancy went up the chair lift to the station where they were to begin their ski lesson. But Nancy's thoughts were far away. She kept wondering about R. I. Channing and whether her hunch was correct. Was Mitzi Channing's husband really in Montreal? Was he the mystery jumper?

" Maybe I should have tried harder to find him, " she chided herself.

The ski instructor noticed her faraway look. When they reached their destination, he said:

" Time for class! Suppose you take off from here. I want to watch you do parallel turns down the practice slope."

Nancy gave a quick shove with her poles and glided away.

" Not bad. Not bad at all! " Chuck called as she completed her trial run. " You have self-confidence and a fine sense of balance. Have you ever done any wedeln? "

" Yes, " Nancy admitted. " But not very well."

" We can try some steeper slopes tomorrow, " her companion said, smiling. " You shouldn't have any trouble. Now take another run. Remember always to lean away from the hill. Keep your skis together all the time. You need more of what the French call—abandon."

" Abandon? "

" You know—relax." Chuck smiled. " Bend your knees, keep your weight forward. You have a natural rhythm. Use it when you wedeln. It is just half turning in rhythm all the way down the hill."

When the lesson was over, Nancy turned to her instructor. " Thanks for everything, " she said. " Tomorrow I'd like to try some jumping. But now I mustn't take any more of your time."

" My time is yours, " Chuck said. " I have no more lessons scheduled for today."

Nancy was pleased. Perhaps she could get Chuck to forget skiing and talk about himself.

" I'd like to take you out to dinner tonight, " he said, " and perhaps go dancing."

Nancy hesitated. The young man read her mind. " If your father would care to come—"

" Suppose I ask him, " Nancy replied. She liked Chuck Wilson.

" Then it's settled, " Chuck said. " I'll drive you back to the hotel now and be on hand again at six-thirty. Or is that too early? "

" Six-thirty will be fine, " Nancy agreed.

Mr. Drew was pleased when Nancy told him that Chuck Wilson had invited them to dinner, but he said that he would not go along.

" I'd rather have you encourage him to talk without me there, " he said. " Sometimes a young man will talk more freely to a girl than to his lawyer. I feel Chuck has been holding something back. See if you can find out what it is."

Promptly at six-thirty Chuck walked into the hotel lobby and greeted the Drews. He expressed regret that Mr. Drew was not joining Nancy and him.

" Your daughter can become a very fine skier, Mr. Drew, " Chuck observed. " All she needs is practice."

" I've no doubt of it." The lawyer smiled proudly. " But I guess Nancy will always be better on ice skates than she is on skis. She was fortunate to have a very fine teacher. I sometimes thought he might encourage her to be become a professional! "

" Why, Dad, you're just prejudiced, " Nancy protested.

" If you like skating, " Chuck spoke up, " how about going to see an exhibition that's being held here tomorrow night? I'm going to skate. If you could use two tickets—? "

Mr. Drew shook his head. " I'm afraid Nancy and I won't be here, my boy. Thank you, though. And now, I must leave you two."

Nancy wondered if her father's decision to depart from Montreal had anything to do with Chuck. Mr. Drew had said nothing about their time of departure. In any case, she had better get started on her work!

It was not long before Nancy and Chuck were seated in an attractive restaurant. " Chuck, " she said, " have you skated professionally very long? "

" Several years."

" Did you ever hear of a Mitzi Adele? "

" No, I never did. Is she a skater? "

Before Nancy could reply, the orchestra started a catchy dance number. Chuck grinned, rose, and escorted her onto the floor.

Nancy had never danced with a better partner. She was thoroughly enjoying it when suddenly Chuck seemed to forget he was on a dance floor. The musicians had switched to a waltz and Chuck became a skater.

He gave Nancy a lead for a tremendous side step backward which strained the seams of her skirt. Then he lifted her from the floor as if to execute a skating lift.

" Chuck thinks he's skating, " Nancy said to herself.

But with a laugh he gracefully put her down again, continuing to dance. " What next? " she wondered.

Chuck swung around alongside her and they glided arm in arm in skating style around the dance floor. He gave her a twirl, then the music ended. Chuck clapped loudly.

" Nancy, you're wonderful, " he said.

Back at the table, she remarked that he must have been dancing all his life. Chuck looked at her searchingly a moment, then said:

" My parents were dancers. Would you like to hear about them? "

" Oh yes."

" They were quite famous, but they were killed in a train crash when I was twelve years old. It stunned me and for a long time I wished I had died too. I had to go live with an ill-tempered uncle. He hated dancing, and would never let me even listen to music."

" How dreadful! " Nancy murmured.

" That wasn't the worst of it, " Chuck went on. He explained that only recently he had found out that his grandfather had left him an inheritance, but apparently it had been stolen from him by his uncle.

" Uncle Chad had a small ranch in the north country, " Chuck went on. " He gave me a miserable time in my boyhood. My only friend was a kindly old trapper. He took me on long trips into the woods and taught me forest lore. It was from him that I learned to ski and snowshoe and to hunt and fish, too. I guess Uncle Chad became suspicious that the old man knew about the money my grandfather had left me and might cause trouble. So he scared him away.

" Later on, as soon as I was old enough, I ran off to Montreal, " Chuck continued. " And now I've asked your father to be my lawyer. I want him to bring suit to recover my inheritance."

" Dad can help you if anybody can, " Nancy said confidently.

" Yes, I know that. But -it's such a hopeless case. I have no legal proof of my uncle's dishonesty, Nancy. My one witness has disappeared."

" You mean the old trapper? " Nancy asked.

" Yes." Chuck nodded. " And there never was a finer man than John Horn."

John Horn! The name of the missing witness! Could there be another such man besides the one in River Heights?

Nancy decided to say nothing to Chuck of the possibility that she knew the one person who could help him. After all, there was no need of arousing false hopes until she had made a definite check.

Four hours later, after an exciting evening of conversation and dancing, Chuck left Nancy at her hotel, with a promise to meet her at the ski lift the following morning. She hurried to her father's room to tell him her discoveries. The lawyer was not in, so Nancy decided to make a long-distance call to her home in River Heights. Hannah Gruen answered the telephone but there was little chance for conversation.

" I can't hear a thing you say, Nancy, " the housekeeper protested. " There are two jaybirds chattering at my elbow. I'm so distracted I can hardly think."

" Oh, you mean Bess and George? " Nancy laughed. " Put them on the wire, please."

" Nancy, I'm so happy it's you! " cried Bess an instant later. " George and I came over here to spend the night because we thought Hannah might be lonely."

" Besides, we had a feeling you might call, " George put in on the extension phone.

" Tell us what you've been doing. Tell us everything! " Bess urged eagerly.

" Well, I had a skiing lesson this afternoon. My instructor was a client of Dad's named Chuck Wilson."

" And what did you do this evening? " Bess persisted.

" Chuck and I had dinner together, and danced, and talked."

" Hypers! " George whistled. " So you're calling him Chuck already."

" And I suppose this Chuck Wilson is young and very good-looking? " Bess asked. Nancy could detect disapproval in her tone.

" He is." Nancy chuckled. " But I don't see—"

" I'm thinking of Ned Nickerson, " Bess reproached her. " Don't you break Ned's heart, Nancy Drew! "

" Nonsense, " Nancy countered. " Now listen carefully, Bess. I have a job for you and George. I want you to see that old trapper, John Horn. Ask him if he ever knew a boy named Chuck Wilson."

" We'll do it first thing tomorrow, " Bess promised.

Nancy was up early the next morning. At breakfast she told her father Chuck's complete story, ending with the item about the old trapper.

" That's a stroke of luck for us." The lawyer nodded. " If your man proves to be our missing witness, Chuck Wilson may really have a case. You've done a fine job, my dear. Are you seeing Chuck today? "

" I'm meeting him at the ski tow at ten."

" Well, have a good time. I'll join you at lunch. By the way, we have reservations on the five-o'clock train."

" I'll be ready."

Chuck Wilson was waiting for Nancy at the ski lift. " You're going to enjoy jumping, " he predicted. " It's a great thrill and it might come in handy someday if you're schussing a mountain and you suddenly come upon a sizable hummock.

" Now there's a slope with middle. Moguls, " he explained, " are big lumps of snow formed from many skiers turning in a certain path on a steep slope. The more the steep area is used for turning, the bigger the lumps or moguls become. Suppose we climb up there and have a go at it."

" Just tell me what to do, " Nancy urged.

" The first thing to remember is that when you hit a bump it will lift you into the air, " Chuck cautioned. " Your job is to crouch down before you hit your obstacle. You spring upward and sort of synchronize your spring with the natural lift the bump gives you. Is that clear, Nancy? "

" I think so."

" Good! Then here are a few other rules, " Chuck continued as they reached the crest of the little hill. " Try to pull your knees up under your chest as you jump, Nancy. And push down hard on your heels so that the points of your skis won't dig into the ground and trip you. Hold the upper part of your body erect and balance with your arms outstretched."

" That's a lot to remember, " Nancy replied. " I'd feel better if there weren't so many people milling about the hill. When I come down, I want a clear track."

" Oh, you'll be okay, " Chuck assured her. " All you need is practice. Well, Nancy, this is it. Don't use your poles. I'll hold them. Get-set-GO! "

In an instant Nancy was off. Flying gracefully a big mogul in the as a bird down the long, smooth slope, she watched the snow-covered bump ahead of her loom larger—LARGER. And then, suddenly, her heart skipped a beat, and she gave a gasp of dismay.

" A snow bunny! " Nancy exclaimed.

The inexperienced skier ahead floundered directly into her path, stumbled, and fell just over the edge of the mogul. Nancy had to choose between jumping over his prostrate body or crashing into him.

She must jump!

Nancy crouched and sprang upward, jumping as fax as she possibly could. She came down in a heap.

Chuck Wilson cried out as she spilled, and sped down the slope to his pupil's rescue.

" Nancy! Nancy! "

The girl lay motionless!