Drop that purse!” Nancy cried out.

The man pulled out the contents, flung the bag away, and darted through a door opening into an alley. Nancy snatched up the purse, then resumed the chase. The alley was dark and she could not see the man. Disappointed, but aware that it was hopeless to pursue him, she turned back.

From the museum lobby came the sound of voices. Among a group of people Nancy saw the guard. Behind him were her father and the elderly lady whose bag she had retrieved.

When the woman saw the purse in Nancy’s hand, she exclaimed, “Oh, I’m so thankful you recovered my bag. The contents are precious to me.”

“I’m sorry the thief escaped, ” Nancy said. “And I’m afraid he took whatever was inside the purse.”

She handed it over. Nervously the woman opened the bag. It was indeed empty!

“Oh, my money is gone! And a letter and a photograph that mean a great deal to me! ” she cried.

“I’ll call the police, ” the guard offered.

“No! ” the woman insisted. “Thank you, but I do not want any publicity.”

Mr. Drew said the authorities should be notified. “No thief should be allowed to go free.”

“Very well, ” the woman agreed reluctantly. “I suppose the report must be made in my name. I am Mrs. John Struthers of Kenwood Drive.”

Mr. Drew asked if she could identify the purse snatcher.

“I scarcely noticed him, ” she confessed.

Nancy spoke up. “He was about thirty years old with a mottled complexion and piercing black eyes. He walked with a slight stoop and wore evening clothes that were too large for him.”

“You’re observant, miss, ” the guard said. “Come to think of it, I know a fellow who looks like that. Let me see—it must have been when I was custodian at the bank. Yes, that’s it.”

“He worked there? ” Nancy asked, amazed.

“No. He used to come in to see one of the tellers. They got mixed up in some crooked scheme. The teller was fired. I don’t know what happened to his buddy, but I heard he was a professional pickpocket.”

“How long ago was that? ” Mr. Drew asked the custodian.

“Six months or more. Excuse me. I’ll phone the police.”

Mrs. Struthers had regained her poise but a faraway look had come into her eyes. “If it hadn’t been for that gypsy music—” She broke off as if she regretted having revealed something.

The woman turned to Nancy and added, “I am very remiss. I haven’t thanked you for all your trouble, and I really am most appreciative. May I know your name? ”

“Nancy Drew, ” the strawberry blond, blue-eyed girl replied. “And this is my father, ” she added, introducing tall, handsome Carson Drew.

Mrs. Struthers smiled and said, “I see now why it was you, Nancy, who spotted the thief. You are often written up in the papers for your cleverness in tracking down unscrupulous people.”

Nancy laughed, brushing aside the compliment. She asked if the Drews could be of any further help to Mrs. Struthers.

“I believe not, thank you, ” the woman replied. “I must find my granddaughter, Rose, who came with me. We were invited to Madame Mazorka’s reception for Mr. Blackwell. But I hadn’t planned to go on account of Rose.”

“You really shouldn’t miss it, ” Nancy said. She felt that the social affair might take the woman’s mind off her loss. “Perhaps—”

The young detective’s remark was cut short by a strikingly pretty girl of about twelve years of age, who unexpectedly pirouetted among them. Coal-black wavy hair fell to her shoulders and dark eyes sparkled brightly, though they looked as if they were capable of blazing with temper.

Mrs. Struthers said to the Drews, “I should like you to meet my granddaughter Rose.”

“Hi, ” Rose said as she finished her dance with a pert curtsy. “Wasn’t the recital super? ”

“It certainly was, Rose, ” Nancy remarked. “I’m thrilled that we’re going to Madame Mazorka’s to meet Mr. Blackwell.”

“We’ve been invited, too, so we can all go together! ” Rose suggested.

“Please, dear, ” Mrs. Struthers remonstrated.

“Perhaps the Drews have other plans. We can take a cab.”

“We’d be delighted to have you ride with us, ” Mr. Drew said. “I’ll get the car.”

Without waiting for the others, Rose went along with him and hopped into the front seat. While she chatted gaily with Mr. Drew, Mrs. Struthers sat in the back with Nancy and confided to the girl that she would like her assistance in solving a mystery.

“Would it be possible, my dear, for you to come to tea at my home tomorrow afternoon? ” Mrs. Struthers asked eagerly. “I’d like to talk to you privately.”

“I’d love to. May I bring a dear friend along? She often helps me on cases.”

The woman agreed and suggested that they meet at four o’clock. There was no chance for further conversation as Mr. Drew pulled up in front of Madame Mazorka’s home.

The charming hostess received her guests graciously. She introduced them to the violinist. As he shook hands with Nancy, Alfred Blackwell’s eyes twinkled. “Are you not the young lady who was carried away by my encore? ” he teased.

“That’s a very kind way of looking at my interruption, ” she replied, laughing. “I wish I’d been as skillful in my performance as you were in yours.”

As Nancy told the artist she hoped to have the pleasure of hearing him play again soon, Rose suddenly rushed forward. “How about my meeting Mr. Blackwell? ”

She shook hands with the musician, then spun away, twirling dangerously close to a portly gentleman who was trying to carry a plate of sandwiches and a glass of punch in one hand. To the strains of a three-piece orchestra Rose began to dance in the middle of the floor.

Many of the guests were staring coolly at her exhibition. Nancy realized that the best way out of the awkward situation would be for the girl to depart. She turned to the distressed grandmother.

“I believe my father is ready to leave now, Mrs. Struthers, ” she said. “We’ll be glad to take you home.”

The woman, greatly relieved to escape, retrieved Rose. After the Drews had left them at their home, Nancy told her father of Mrs. Struthers’ invitation to talk over a mystery.

“Have you any idea what it might be? ” she asked.

“I’ve heard very little about Mrs. Struthers, ” the lawyer said. “I understand she and her granddaughter have lived in River Heights two years. Mrs. Struthers is reputed to be wealthy and has traveled a lot. But it’s said she now stays at home all the time. She’s sad and very secretive about her affairs.”

“It should be an interesting case, ” Nancy speculated. “I wonder if it could have anything to do with Rose.”

“That child should be taught to behave better, ” Carson Drew declared, frowning.

“Maybe her actions are the result of pent-up energy, ” Nancy ventured. “Who knows, she may have some hidden talent! ”

“Perhaps you’re right, ” Mr. Drew said.

The following day Nancy drove to the Struthers’ home, accompanied by slender, attractive George Fayne. She was as excited as Nancy over the prospect of a new mystery.

Nancy parked the car in front of a large brick house, which stood some distance from others in the neighborhood. It was surrounded by lawns and a high iron fence.

The two friends started up the long walk to the front door. Suddenly a shout behind them made Nancy and George turn.

Too late! Before they could tell who or what was coming, the girls were knocked to the ground.