Carolyn Keene - The Clue in the Jewel Box

“Katherine designed and made it for me,” Helen said proudly. “We met in Europe, and I talked her into coming to this country and staying with Jim and me for a while.”

Nancy learned that Helen’s guest hoped to open a fashion shop in town.

“Each time I go any place I’ll wear a dress designed especially for me,” Helen said. “Everyone will ask where I bought it, and I’ll tell them of Katherine’s work. The orders should roll in!”

“You Americans!” The European girl smiled. “You sweep me off the feet!” The others laughed.

“I could use a new dress,” said Nancy, grinning. “Would you make one for me?”

“Katherine can measure you now,” Helen said at once. “As her business manager, I accept the order. We’ll give you a special discount.”

Nancy went to get a tape measure from the sewing basket. Katherine made various notations on a slip of paper, and sketched a few ideas. As Nancy tried to decide which one she liked best, she casually hummed a few bars of the nightingale’s song. The young designer listened attentively.

“That melody!” she murmured. “What is its name?”

“So far as I know, it has none,” Nancy answered. “I’ll try to sing the words, but I don’t know what they mean.” She sang a few syllables.

“They sound like words in my native language,” Katherine announced. “But they make no meaning to me.”

Nancy gazed at the girl with startled eyes. Did the nightingale’s song contain a message?

“Katherine, you’ve given me a wonderful idea!” she exclaimed. “You may be able to help me solve a mystery!”

“I gladly do anything.”

“You’re a dear,” Nancy said, squeezing the other’s hand. “There is someone I want you to meet-Mrs. Marie Alexandra. I’ll ask her if I may take you to see her tomorrow.”

After the two girls had left, Nancy lost no time in telephoning Mrs. Alexandra. The woman graciously assured Nancy that she might bring her friends to tea any afternoon she chose, but asked that her real identity not be revealed.

“I should like to come tomorrow,” Nancy replied and said good-by. As she stood near the phone wondering about the meeting, Mrs. Gruen called:

“Nancy, if you can descend to earth for a moment, I wish you’d go to the soda shop for some ice cream.”

“Glad to,” Nancy replied.

She found so many customers in the store there was a long delay before it was her turn to be waited on.

“I guess Dad will be home by the time I get back,” Nancy thought as she reached the house.

She was right. His car stood in the driveway. As Nancy walked toward the kitchen door, she noticed her father in his study. She was just about to call “Hi” through the open window when she saw a frightening sight.

A man seated in a chair opposite Mr. Drew was pointing a revolver at him!

“You’ll be sorry if you don’t pay my price!” the man was saying to Mr. Drew.

Nancy did not wait a second. Dropping her package, she seized a rock from beneath the window and threw it at the gun. The weapon went spinning from the man’s hand.

In a flash Nancy scrambled through the window, snatched up the gun, and handed it to her father.

“Why, Nancy,” said Mr. Drew, “you-!”

“This man is the pickpocket who stole Francis Baum’s wallet!” she told her father.

Nancy threw a rock at the gun

“No, I’m not,” the man said quickly. “That gun isn’t loaded, and I meant no harm.”

Nancy was unconvinced, even when her father opened the weapon to show it contained no bullets.

“I guess my life wasn’t in danger,” Mr. Drew said, trying to relieve the situation, “but I do appreciate your trying to save me, dear.”

“It’s all a mistake,” the caller insisted. “I came here to meet you, Miss Drew.”

Nancy was bewildered. “But I did see you pointing the revolver directly at my father!”

“I was merely trying to sell the gun to him. It’s a rare one.”

“That’s true,” said Mr. Drew. “He noticed my collection of antique firearms on the wall, and thought I might like to add this one to it.”

“He’s wanted by the police,” Nancy insisted. “Or is it possible,” she said, turning to the caller, “that you’re the man who looks so much like the pickpocket?”

The stranger crossed the room and she noted that he walked with a long stride and not short, quick steps.

“Yes, I am. My name is Dorrance-David Dorrance. You saved me from arrest. I asked the policeman for your name and address and came here to thank you.”

“Nancy, I think you owe Mr. Dorrance an apology,” Mr. Drew said. “I’m afraid this time you’ve made a mistake in your sleuthing.”

“I truly am sorry,” she replied.

“Oh, I can’t blame you for acting as you did,” the caller said, accepting the revolver which Mr. Drew handed him. “I’ve been mistaken for that other fellow several times.”

“He resembles you closely,” Nancy remarked. She tried to memorize Dorrance’s features to avoid any future misunderstanding.

“It’s hard on me having the police and young lady detectives always after me,” Dorrance resumed. “Why, your friends chased me a block, no doubt mistaking me for the pickpocket.”

“Was that when you left an apartment house on Oster Street yesterday?”

“Oh, no, I haven’t been near there since the day my wallet was stolen. The chase was about an hour ago.”

“Why did you run?” Nancy asked.

“I didn’t. It was only after I’d boarded a bus that I realized they were after me.”

Nancy decided that she had been unduly suspicious of him, especially after he explained that he bought and sold antique weapons as a hobby. The revolver she had knocked from his hand had been purchased only a short time before, he said. Nancy recalled having seen a similar one at Mr. Faber’s shop.

“I don’t see how I made such a mistake,” she said in apology. “Is there a way to avoid that happening again?”

“Why not arrange a set of signals?” Dorrance suggested, grinning.

“If I ever mistake you again for the thief, wave a handkerchief,” Nancy said. “Then I’ll know who you are.” The young man agreed.

A moment later he left. Nancy went at once to retrieve the ice cream and placed it in the freezer, then returned to her father.

“What do you think of David Dorrance?” she asked.

“I wasn’t impressed,” the lawyer replied. “However, I must say he took your accusation in a rather sporting way.”

Nancy perched herself on an arm of her father’s chair. “I dislike him,” she said. “I’ll always remember that man pointing a gun at you!”

“I’m as grateful as if you’d actually saved my life, Nancy,” Mr. Drew told her. “Well, here’s Hannah, so dinner is ready. Let’s forget this unpleasant episode,” he added, tucking Nancy’s arm under his own and walking to the dining room with her.

The following afternoon Nancy took Helen Archer and her house guest, Katherine, to call on Mrs. Alexandra. To Nancy’s delight, the girls made a favorable impression. More than that, Katherine soon realized who the woman was, and an animated conversation between the two began at once in a foreign tongue.

“Mrs. Alexandra and I-we are from the same country,” Katherine announced to the girls. “Please excuse-we have much to talk about.”

The other two did not mind being excluded. They were pleased because Katherine was so happy. Nancy pointed out the various art objects in the room to Helen, who was fascinated.

Before they left, Anna, who had served tea, took the gold-encrusted Easter egg from the curio cabinet and pressed the tiny spring. The nightingale sang its strange little song.