Carolyn Keene - The Secret of Red Gate Farm

Joanne's face brightened instantly, but she was reluctant to accept the favor. "I've really troubled you enough."

"Nonsense! We'll start right away!" Nancy turned to Bess and George. "Want to come along?"

Bess and George both declined, since they were expected home. The cousins gathered up their packages and all the girls went to the car.

Nancy dropped Bess and George at their own homes, then took the highway leading to the next city.

"I do hope I get there in time," Joanne said worriedly. "The job will mean so much to Gram and me!"

"You'll get there," Nancy assured her. "Have you ever applied for a job before?"

"No. I've always helped Gram run the farm until now," Joanne explained. "I felt I was more needed there than anywhere else. We keep a farm hand, but a great deal of the work still falls upon me."

The girls soon reached Riverside Heights, and Nancy had no trouble finding the address mentioned in the advertisement. It was in a run-down section of the city, but Nancy did not mention this to her companion.

"Here we are," Nancy said cheerfully, stopping the car in front of a dingy-looking office building.

Joanne made no move to get out of the car, but sat nervously pressing her hands together.

"I'm a terrible coward," she confessed. "I don't know what in the world to say when I go in. I wish you'd come with me."

"I'll be glad to," said Nancy, as she turned off the ignition and locked the car. They entered the building. There was no elevator, so the girls climbed the dimly lighted stairway to the third floor. Soon they came to Room 305, which had been mentioned in the advertisement.

"There's no name on the door," Nancy observed, "but this must be the right place."

As they stepped into the reception room, Nancy noted that it was dirty and drab. The two girls glanced at each other, exchanging expressions of disappointment.

At that moment a man came from the inner office and surveyed the girls sharply. He was tall and wiry, with hostile, penetrating eyes and harsh features. His suit was bold in pattern and color, and his necktie was gaudy.

"Well?" he demanded coldly.

Joanne found sufficient courage to take the advertisement from her pocket.

"I-I saw this in the paper," she stammered. "I came to apply for the position."

The man stared at Joanne critically, then at Nancy.

"You lookin' for the job too?" he asked.

Nancy shook her head. "No. I'm here with my friend."

The man looked at Joanne again and said with a shrug of his shoulders, "Go on in the other room. I'll talk to you in a minute."

Joanne cast Nancy a doubtful glance and obediently stepped into the inner office.

"Look here," the man addressed Nancy, "wouldn't you like that job? I could use a good- lookin' girl like you."

"I'm not looking for work, thank you," Nancy returned aloofly.

The man was about to make a retort when the telephone rang. He scowled and went over to the table to answer it. As he lifted the receiver he looked nervously back toward Nancy.

"Hello," he growled into the phone. "This is Al. Shoot!"

Nancy listened to his end of the unbusiness-like conversation and watched him reach for paper and pencil and begin to scribble down a line of figures. This in itself would not have seemed so peculiar, except that he continued to eye Nancy suspiciously.

He kept on copying figures. All the while Nancy watched him curiously.

"O.K., Hank," he muttered just before he hung up. "You say you've found a girl? . . . Fine! We can't be too careful in this business!"

All this time Nancy was wondering what kind of transactions went on in this office. There had been no indication on the door of what business the man was engaged in and nothing in the room gave her any clue. She realized now that Joanne's chances of getting the position were slim, and Nancy was actually relieved. She was very suspicious of the whole setup.

"I was just taking down some stock-market quotations," the man remarked lightly as he crossed the room toward Nancy.

"This isn't an investment house, is it?" she asked.

"No, you wouldn't call it that exactly," he answered with a smirk. "We run a manufacturing business."

"I see," Nancy murmured, though she really did not understand at all. "What do you manufacture?"

The man pretended not to hear and moved on to the inner office where Joanne was waiting. In haste to escape further questions, he forgot to pick up the sheet of paper with the numbers on it.

Nancy was curious about the telephone conversation and could not resist the temptation to take a peek at the notation. She stepped silently over to the telephone table and glanced at the sheet. Strung out across the top and bottom of the page were numbers. The top row read:

_ ~

1653 112 129 1562 16 882 091 5618

--

"Stock quotations, like fun!" Nancy told herself. "Why did he lie about it? He must have been afraid I'd discover something!" As usual. Nancy was intrigued at any hint of a mystery. She studied the row of odd figures. Suddenly it dawned on her that they might be a message in code!

Nancy looked quickly toward the inner office. The door was open, but the man sat with his back toward her. She did not dare pick up the paper. If only there was enough time to copy the code!

With one eye on the office. Nancy took a sheet of paper and frantically scribbled the numbers, carefully keeping them in their right order. She could hear Joanne's soft voice, then her prospective employer talking loudly, and realized the interview was coming to an end.

She had copied only the top row of numbers, but dared not spend any more time at it. She put the copy into her bag and slipped back into her chair just a moment before Joanne and the man emerged from the inner room. He glanced toward the telephone, gave a start, and rushed across the room. With a muttered exclamation he grabbed the paper and thrust it into his pocket.

Nancy's heart was beating madly as she forced herself to remain outwardly calm. He stood with a cold look on his face, his eyes fixed on Nancy.

CHAPTER III Work on a Code

Had the man heard her rush from the telephone table? Nancy wondered. Was he suspicious of her actions during his absence? If so, what reason did he have and what business deal was he hiding in this dingy excuse for an office? Nancy pretended not to notice his penetrating, questioning eyes, but she was ill at ease.

The hostile man spoke up. "You girls better get out of here!" he blurted. "I got no more time to waste. And don't bother to come back !"

Nancy and Joanne looked hastily at each other and moved toward the door. Once outside the building. Nancy breathed a sigh of relief and turned toward Joanne, who was close to tears.

"Don't feel bad because you didn't get the job," Nancy said gently as they walked to the car. "You wouldn't have wanted it, I'm sure."

"That man was detestable!" Joanne shuddered. "I had just given my name and address when he started to shout. You must have heard him."

Nancy nodded. "I think he had already found another girl to work for him," she said. "At least I heard him say something like that over the phone."

"I knew I wouldn't get the job." Joanne sighed dejectedly. "He told me I wasn't the type!"

"I'd count my blessings if I were you," said Nancy soberly. "There's something strange going on in that office and I'd like to know what it is."

"Why, what do you mean?" Joanne asked quizzically.

"Well," Nancy began carefully, "I'm not sure my suspicions are just, but I have a hunch there's something shady about the telephone message he got when you were in the inner office." Nancy explained about the series of numbers on the sheet of paper and how she suspected they might form some sort of code.