Carolyn Keene - The Clue in the Crumbling Wall

"Did you mention Juliana's name?"

"Yes. Mr. Hector stressed that he was still searching for her."

The Heath Castle mystery was no nearer a solution than before. Eager as Nancy was to revisit the estate that afternoon, she found it impossible. Her father had made her promise not to go there alone. Neither Bess nor George was free to accompany her until the next day.

The next day, after Sunday church services, the three girls set out in Nancy's car, carrying a picnic lunch. On the way Nancy explained the latest developments in the mystery. She added, "Nothing must drive us away from the castle grounds until we've investigated every nook and corner!"

Soon the familiar ivy-covered front boundary wall loomed ahead. Nancy parked beneath a cool tunnel of overhanging trees. The car was well hidden.

She and her friends got out and walked to the rusty gate and peered between the bars. The grounds seemed as deserted as ever, but suddenly the girls heard dogs barking.

"Listen!" Nancy exclaimed. An instant later she added, "They're inside the grounds!"

"And coming closer," Bess said nervously. "That settles it. We can't possibly go in now!"

She wanted to return to the car, but George and Nancy lingered, reluctant to leave. Soon they glimpsed two large black-and-white hounds.

"Dangerous-looking brutes," George commented. "Evidently they've been left here on guard."

When the dogs saw the intruders they barked louder than ever. One of them came to the gate, growled fiercely at Nancy, and clawed the iron bars with his front paws.

Instead of retreating, she spoke soothingly to him. "Hello, old fellow. When did you come to live here?"

To the amazement of Bess, the animal began to wag his tail. Nancy reached a hand through the gate and patted his head.

"Be careful!" Bess warned sharply.

The other dog had stopped barking and now came forward, too. Nancy stroked his head.

"These dogs are not vicious," she said. "Girls, I'm sure we can explore the grounds safely."

"I'm willing to try if you are," George said.

Bess was afraid of the dogs but agreed to go.

"I'll climb over first," Nancy said. "If they don't attack me, you two follow."

George and Bess watched uneasily as their friend climbed the crumbling wall. On the ledge she hesitated a moment. The dogs had set up a loud barking again. Nancy realized that although the animals had been friendly to her on the opposite side of the enclosure, there was no guarantee they would let her enter the grounds.

"Don't attempt it!" Bess called.

Nancy spoke gently but firmly to the hounds. Then, taking a chance, she lowered herself gradually. One of the dogs leaped up to her. Nancy's heart began to beat wildly, but she showed no fear.

"Easy, boy," she murmured. To her relief, the animal became friendly once more.

"It's all right," Nancy called to her friends, and continued to pat the hounds. She talked to them as George climbed the wall and leaped down. The dogs did not make a fuss. As soon as Bess's head appeared, however, they began to snarl.

"They'll leave you alone if you don't show any fear," Nancy assured her.

But it was impossible for Bess to do this. "Go on without me," she said after two vain attempts. "I'll wait in the car."

"All right," Nancy agreed, adding with a grin,

"Don't eat up all the lunch while we're gone!"

She and George set off. The dogs remained behind. Soon the girls located the avenue of trees which led to the loggia.

"Here's a path that may go to the castle," Nancy said as they came to a forked trail.

"Maybe." George smiled. "But here's a sign that reads To the Goblin Gallery ."

"Let's see where it goes," Nancy urged.

They passed a finely chiseled statuette in a wall niche, lingered a moment to gaze at a rose garden choked with weeds, then went on to a clearing. Before them rose an artistic structure. The sides were formed of slender twisted stone columns, while sprawling over them was a roof of untrimmed vines supported by thick stalks.

"How pretty!" Nancy said dreamily.

George, surveying the gallery closely, remarked practically, "It looks as if Father Time has taken over here instead of the goblins. Those stone columns might tumble down any minute."

Remarking that she was amazed stone could be damaged so greatly by weather, Nancy stooped to inspect the base of one of the pillars. "George!" she exclaimed suddenly. "Someone has deliberately tampered with these columns. See the marks? They've been weakened-probably with a pickax!"

"Why would anyone do that?" George asked.

As the girls looked over the other columns, Nancy told George about the note she had found at the Heath button factory and the word* "in a wall."

"I'm sure someone is searching various walls of that old building for an article of value," she said.

"But why try to destroy these lovely columns?"

"Maybe the person didn't find what he wanted in the walls, and was looking in the columns."

George was not listening attentively to her friend. Instead, she was gazing down the path as if transfixed.

"What do you see?" Nancy asked in a low voice.

George motioned toward the bushes. "It's an old man!" she whispered. "He's pointing his finger at something ahead of us!"

Nancy was startled too when she saw the man amid the heavy shrubbery. Her pulse quickened as she moved toward the figure. Nearing it, she laughed softly.

"Why, it's only a life-size statue, George!"

Embarrassed, her friend went over to inspect the figure.

"That pointing finger might have a special significance," Nancy said, noting the path ahead. "Let's see where this takes us."

The trail had been nearly obliterated by weeds. It twisted in and out among the trees and seemed to lead nowhere. The girls were about to turn back when Nancy caught a flash of water in sunlight.

The girls made their way through the undergrowth and came out on the shore of a very large pond dotted with rank grass. George hurried ahead to look at it.

"Why do you suppose someone pointed the statue to this? It doesn't look like any-"

Her words ended in a little scream as the soft bank beneath her feet gave way. Before Nancy could grab her, George had slipped into the water. It was not deep but she was soaked.

"Hypers! Look at me! I'm a mess!" George cried out. "And say, this water is kind of salty."

Nancy helped her friend scramble up the slippery bank. She gazed about her and noticed a stone house nearby. Apparently it once had been used as a tool shed.

"Go in there and get out of your wet clothes," she advised George. "I'll lay them in the sun. They shouldn't take long to dry."

Quickly George ducked into the stone house. She tossed her slacks, shirt, and sneakers through an open window. Nancy spread them on the bank in the sun, then started walking around the pond. Suddenly she noticed something shiny on the bank. It was the shell of a whelk.

"How beautiful!" she thought, picking it up. The mother-of-pearl lining gleamed with a blend of delicate pink and purple.

After a moment's hesitation Nancy stripped off shoes and socks and waded into the shallow water. When she dipped her hands into the sand, she discovered that the bottom was thick with mussels. Among them were discarded shells with the same lovely blending of colors. Nearby on the shore she spotted a large pile of cracked shells and went to examine them.

"Why are they here?" she wondered. "These are seashore whelks." Then Nancy remembered what Salty had told her about dye being obtained from this type of shellfish and that Walter Heath had spent much of his time on scientific experiments. "Suppose he was using the whelks to make a special kind of dye!"

Nancy tucked two unbroken shells into her shirt pocket. As she put on her shoes she thought of the hacked stone columns and the explosion at the factory. "Someone may be looking for a secret connected with Walter Heath's experiments!"