A New Lead

“QUICK, Ned! ” Nancy cried, seizing her paddle. “She’ll be in over her head in a minute. We must save her! ”

Her companion needed no urging. He sent the canoe forward with powerful strokes.

“Lola, stay where you are! Don’t move! ” Nancy called to her.

The girl did not appear to hear. On she waded, holding her hands in front of her.

As Nancy had feared, the shallow water ended abruptly. The next instant Lola had stepped in over her head. The ducking seemed to bring her out of her trance, and now she began to struggle frantically. If she knew how to swim, she gave no evidence of it.

Fortunately, the canoe was soon alongside her. Quickly Ned eased himself into the water, while Nancy steadied the craft. He seized the struggling and terrified girl, then began to swim toward shore. In a moment they were in shallow water.

Nancy was waiting with the canoe, and the sputtering Lola was lifted into the bottom of the craft. The girl was only half conscious. Nancy bent low over her and caught the words, “the beckoning hand.”

“Gosh! ” Ned observed uneasily. “She’s in a bad way! ”

“We must get her home right away, ” Nancy decided. “And you, too, with those wet clothes.”

Paddling as fast as they could, she and Ned started toward the picnic grounds where he had left his car. Midway there, Lola seemed to recover her senses. She sat up and gazed at Nancy as if recognizing her for the first time.

“Lola, why were you wading out into the water? ” Nancy asked.

“I can’t tell you, ” Lola answered weakly.

“You said something about a beckoning hand.”

“I did? ” Lola’s eyes opened wide and an expression of horror came over her face.

“You thought someone was calling to you? ”

Lola spoke with an effort. “I’m grateful to you for pulling me out of the river. But I can’t answer your questions! ”

Nancy said no more. Taking off her sweater, she put it around the shivering girl.

Later, when they reached the picnic grounds, she hurried Lola in secret to Ned’s car, as the college group made joking remarks to Ned about his bedraggled appearance.

At the White home Nancy and Ned lingered only long enough to be certain that Lola had suffered no ill effects from her immersion.

“Please don’t tell anyone what happened, ” Mrs. White pleaded. “Lola went out this evening without telling me where she was going. I can’t imagine why she would go to the river.”

“Perhaps to meet someone, ” Nancy suggested.

“So far as I know, she had no date. Oh, I do so need your help to clear up this mystery, Nancy! ”

“I’ll do everything I can, ” Nancy promised.

Upon returning home, the young detective sat for a long while in the Drew library, reflecting upon the events of the evening.

Nancy mused also about the many unrelated incidents that had taken place the past week. Into several of these the mysterious Howard Brex seemed to fit very naturally. Yet of his whereabouts since his release from prison, nothing was known.

Penning a brief note to Mr. Johnson, Brex’s former boss in New Orleans, she described the crossed-twig sign, and asked if by chance it had any connection with the suspect and his jewelry designs.

For several days after the letter had been sent, Nancy and her friends kept a fairly close watch on the black walnut tree at the edge of the clearing. But so far as they could determine, no one visited the tree, either to leave money or to take it away.

“We’re wasting time watching this place, ” Ned commented after the third day. “Whoever it is you’re looking for knows you’ve discovered the walnut-tree cache, and has probably moved to a safer locality.”

Nancy was inclined to agree with him. She felt very discouraged, for it seemed that she was making no progress whatever in solving the stolen jewelry mystery. Because she could report no success to Mrs. Putney, she avoided calling upon her.

But a letter from Mr. Johnson, the jewelry manufacturer, brought startling results. He wrote:

The crossed-twig design you described was never used in any work Brex did for us. We have also looked through other jewelers’ catalogs, but do not find anything like this design pictured.

However, some time ago, a simple-minded janitor in this office building received from Chicago a letter bearing an insigne of crossed twigs. The man was urged to invest money in stock of the Three Branch Ranch on the promise of doubling his funds. The scheme sounded dishonest, and I persuaded him to ignore it. I would have reported the stock sellers to the authorities, but unfortunately the janitor destroyed the letter before I had a chance to examine it.

Nancy took Mr. Johnson’s letter to her father, who read it carefully, then offered a suggestion.

“Why not notify the postal authorities? It’s against the law, as you know, to use the mail to promote dishonest schemes.”

“Will you do it for me, Dad? Your letterhead is so impressive! ”

“All right, I’ll dictate a letter to my secretary this afternoon, ” the lawyer promised.

Nancy decided to write a letter of her own to the Government Information Service to inquire if they had any record of a Three Branch Ranch. Three days later she received a reply. She was told that no such ranch was listed.

“This practically makes it certain the stock scheme is a swindle! ” she declared. “The headquarters of the outfit may be in Chicago, but I’ll bet salesmen are working in other places.” Yet it was difficult for her to connect Brex, a clever designer of jewelry, with a crooked stock promotion.

Even though she had no conclusive information to convey, Nancy decided to call upon Mrs. Putney to ask a few questions. Just as she was about to leave the house, however, a taxi stopped in front, and the widow herself alighted.

Mrs. Putney looked even more worried than on the previous occasion.

“Poor thing, ” Nancy said to herself. “I’d like to be able to help her! ”

Nancy met Mrs. Putney at the front door, and cordially escorted her into the living room.

“I’ve come to see you, because you never come to my house, ” the visitor scolded Nancy mildly.

“I haven’t been to see you lately, because I had nothing to report, Mrs. Putney. I intended to call today.”

“Then I’ll forgive you, my dear. If you were coming, you must have a clue.”

“Several of them, I hope. Before I tell you what I suspect, I must ask you a rather personal question, Mrs. Putney. Do you own any stock in the Three Branch Ranch? ”

Nancy’s question seemed to take the widow completely by surprise.

“What—what do you know about the Three Branch Ranch? ” she asked in a voice which quavered with emotion. Her faded eyes reflected stark fear.