The Phantom of Pine Hill, Page 2

  “Thank you,” said Nancy.

  “Before I go, would you be interested in hearing a little of the Rorick family history?” he asked.

  “Yes, indeed. It’s just possible there might be some connection between that and your phantom,” Nancy suggested.

  “Hmm,” said Uncle John. “I never thought of that. You may be right. Perhaps it has something to do with the lost gifts.”

  The girls listened intently as he went on, “When my ancestor, George Rorick, came to this country he brought a French bride with him—a young noblewoman. She kept in close touch with her family, and when her daughter Abigail was to be married, the relatives in France sent a chest of wedding gifts. But the steamship it came on had an explosion aboard and sank in the river not far from Settlers’ Cove. A short time before, a letter and a key came to Abigail from her uncle in France. I still have the key hidden away. The letter is hanging on the wall. I’ll get it.”

  He excused himself and went to the library, but returned in a minute with a framed letter. It was dated 1835, and was written in French in an old-fashioned, precise script. The girls tried to translate it but finally gave up. Many of the words were no longer in use.

  Uncle John turned the frame over. Pasted on the back was an English translation. The very gracious letter said the writer’s family sent felicitations and wished the bride-to-be and her husband great happiness. A chest containing presents—a wedding dress, veil, fan, slippers, and a very special gift—was being shipped on a freighter but should reach Miss Abigail Rorick in plenty of time.

  “How exciting!” said Bess.

  Nancy was still reading. Abigail’s uncle was at the time a member of the court of Louis Phillipe. The queen herself had selected the material for the gown and veil in Paris. The beautiful fan was a gift from her.

  “They must have been lovely,” Nancy said softly.

  George asked, “What was the family’s other gift to Abigail?”

  “No one knows, but I’m sure it was valuable,” Uncle John answered. “The report was that when the Lucy Belle sank, most of those aboard and the cargo were lost. A few of the passengers and crew were saved, but probably took only some personal possessions ashore—if any. We don’t know if the gifts went down or not. And in those days no one could dive deep enough to retrieve cargo. By now the lighter pieces would have shifted and been buried in mud.”

  “But it is possible that in recent times scuba divers may have removed the cargo,” Nancy remarked.

  Mr. Rorick smiled. “I doubt it. The story of the Lucy Belle has long since been forgotten.”

  Nancy asked thoughtfully, “Where did the people who were saved go, Uncle John?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe some of the old books in my library will tell you. There are many I’ve never read.”

  Bess asked if the Lucy Belle had come directly from France. Mr. Rorick shook his head. “The gifts were shipped across the Atlantic to Baltimore. Then they came overland by stagecoach to Pittsburgh. There they were put on the Lucy Belle and came up the Ohio and into this tributary. Abigail received notice of this.”

  Uncle John took the old letter back to the library, then went for his suitcase. Within minutes he was in his car, waving farewell and wishing the girls luck.

  But there was one more delay before Nancy could start investigating the library. A young detective arrived to take Nancy’s fingerprints, since she had been out the night before when he came to investigate the case of the missing necklace.

  After he had gone, Mrs. Holman unfastened the padlocked door and the girls went in. Like the living room, the library extended from the front of the house to the back.

  “Oh,” said Bess, “I’ve never seen so many books in one room. There must be thousands of them!”

  Every wall was lined with shelves from floor to ceiling and filled with double rows of books. Many of the volumes looked old and fragile. A quick survey indicated a wide variety of subjects.

  There were two windows on each of the outside walls, all of them securely locked. The fireplace was a duplicate of the one in the dining room and was back to back with it.

  Nancy again wondered if there were a passage between them. Then she noted the undisturbed ashes and bits of charred wood.

  “If there’s a secret opening,” Nancy reasoned, “the phantom hasn’t used it.” Nevertheless, she tested the brick facing, but found no sign of a hidden entrance.

  Next, Nancy studied the layout of the room. It contained a large desk which stood in the center, several small Oriental rugs, and a safe under one front window. A long red-leather couch and matching club chairs were scattered about.

  “Pretty cozy place to browse,” George remarked. “Well, Nancy, where do we start hunting for the phantom?”

  “I suggest you begin looking through the books for a clue to why the phantom is interested in this room. Mrs. Holman, will you see if anything is missing? Bess, help me roll up these rugs. There may be a trap door underneath.”

  Presently the housekeeper reported that nothing was gone so far as she knew. Nancy and Bess did not discover a trap door, and relaid the rugs. Mrs. Holman was about to leave the room, when George suddenly cried out:

  “Wow! Guess what I’ve found!”

  CHAPTER III

  Photo Finish

  As Mrs. Holman, Bess, and Nancy hurried across the library, George held out an open book. In it was a sizable heap of bills.

  “My goodness!” the housekeeper exclaimed. “Did you find all that money in the book?”

  George nodded. “I noticed the volume was standing upside down. When I took it out to turn it around, this is what I found.”

  Quickly Mrs. Holman counted. “A hundred and fifty dollars!” she exclaimed.

  Nancy, her eyes on the open page, noticed that the number was 150. She brought this to the attention of the others. As the money was returned and the book closed, they all read the title. It was The Roaring Twenties.

  Nancy chuckled. “I’ll bet Uncle John hides his money this way. The word roar—or roaring—may help him recall the book because of his name Rorick.”

  The housekeeper suggested that they check on Nancy’s theory and everyone began searching. They noticed a number of books with roar in the title on the shelves to the left of the fireplace. “Uncle John keeps them all in this section, I’ll bet,” said Nancy.

  “Look here!” said Bess, holding out a volume.

  The title of it was The Roaring River, and on page 200 were ten crisp twenty-dollar bills! In a moment George came upon The Roar of the Wilderness. On page 50 lay a fifty-dollar bill.

  There was no question now in anyone’s mind but that Uncle John used this method to hide money. Had the phantom somehow found this out? And had he been removing bills?

  “But,” Mrs. Holman said, “that still doesn’t explain how he gets into this room. Well,” she added, “I’ll leave that to you girls and go back to my chores.”

  After she left, they continued their investigation and found several more books with the word roar in the title. The total amount of money they had uncovered was over a thousand dollars!

  Bess sighed. “This is the most unique bank I’ve ever been in—not that I’ve been in many. I’m afraid my allowance and the money I’ve earned don’t find their way to a bank account!”

  “Shame on you, Cousin Bess” said George with mock severity.

  A clock on Mr. Rorick’s desk chimed the hour of eleven. “We’d better go and dress,” said Bess. “We’re due at the Omega House at twelve.”

  “That’s right,” Nancy agreed. “And the crew race won’t wait for us.”

  During the afternoon there was to be the final race of the season. Emerson would be pitted against Wellbart. Ned Nickerson was stroke for Emerson. Since each crew had already won six races, the competition was high.

  Nancy padlocked the library door, returned the key, and the girls went to dress. They put on simple but attractive sports clothes, then set off in Nancy’s car for th
e fraternity house. They found it filled with an excited crowd. Everyone was rooting for Emerson to win and the din was deafening.

  Ned said to Nancy, “If I don’t get out of this noise, I won’t have any energy left for the race. Let’s go out under the trees to eat. I’ll get a couple of plates of food from the kitchen.”

  He led Nancy outside to a large oak some distance from the fraternity house, then went back. A few minutes later he returned with two paper plates heaped with food. Grinning, he said, “I won’t dare eat much of this or I’ll sink the shell! ”

  Nancy laughed and Ned asked, “Have you caught the spook yet?”

  “I almost did,” Nancy answered, and told him about the episode of the previous night.

  She was about to mention the hunt in the library when a wasp landed in the midst of her food. As she jumped up to flick it away, she caught sight of Fred Jenkins standing behind the oak tree.

  Ned, too, saw him. “What are you doing here?” Ned demanded.

  Fred’s face turned red and he stammered, “I—I was just coming to see if I could bring you anything else.”

  “If we want more food we’ll get it,” Ned told him. “You’re supposed to be serving in the house. Hadn’t you better get back on the job?”

  After Fred had gone, Nancy remarked, “He certainly acted guilty of eavesdropping. Since he works for Mr. Rorick, do you suppose he knows something about the mystery?”

  Ned grinned. “If he didn’t, he does now. Probably he heard every word you said. I only hope he won’t go telling it all over town.”

  Glancing at his wrist watch, Ned said that it was time for him to dress for the race. Then he escorted Nancy back to the fraternity house. “Remember, your seats are in the front row. I’ll be listening for your cheering!”

  Shortly before two o’clock the five young people found their places on the shore front below the college buildings. A band was playing a lively tune. Emerson and Wellbart banners were being waved.

  Bess was chalk-white. “I’m so nervous,” she said, then explained to Dave, “I always get nervous at races.”

  “To tell you the truth, I don’t feel so calm myself,” said Dave. “The Wellbart crew is mighty good.”

  Minutes later, the announcement of the race was made. Nancy could feel herself tensing up and held on tightly to the sides of her chair. A pistol sounded. The contestants were off!

  Everyone stood up to watch the two crews. They were neck and neck as they sped across the river. Then one shell shot in front.

  “Oh dear, Wellbart’s ahead!” Bess said dolefully.

  The words were hardly out of her mouth when the Emerson crew pulled forward. “Emerson’s going to win!” cried George.

  As the two shells entered the cove, the Wellbart crew caught up and rowed nearly half a boat length beyond their opponent.

  “Ned! Ned! Come on!” shouted Nancy.

  Emerson did catch up, and with the coxswain working his men hard, his crew pulled ahead ever so slightly. Nancy and her friends felt encouraged and screamed at the top of their voices.

  Wellbart backers were equally excited. “Don’t let ‘em win!” cried one youth, waving a banner wildly. “Show ’em what you’ve got!”

  The next moment the two shells were exactly even. The screaming and rooting increased.

  “Oh, Ned!” Nancy cried out. “Get ahead! Get ahead!”

  Both shells were nearing the finish line now. Still they looked as if they were even. The two coxswains, moving forward and backward in a frantically fast rhythm, were shouting snappy orders.

  Nancy’s heart was thumping madly. The excited girl was almost too choked to breathe and cry out any more. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands and never took her eyes off Ned. To herself she said, “Stroke! Stroke! You’ve got to win!”

  Suddenly both shells slid across the finish line. Instantly people began to call out, “Who won?”

  “It’s a photo finish!” Dave cried out. “We won’t know for a few minutes.”

  A sudden hush had come over the crowd as everyone waited for the result. The heaving men in the shells sat quiet and tense, their paddles raised.

  Presently the head judge stepped to the microphone. He smiled. “I know you are all eagerly awaiting the results so I will not prolong my speech except to say that personally I have never seen a better race. I congratulate every man on his good sportsmanship and fine performance. The result according to the high-speed camera shows that the winner—is Emerson University!”

  “Yea! Yea!” a shout went up, then the Emerson rooters gave the college yell. The Wellbart men gave theirs, ending it with, “Emerson! EMERSON! EMERSON!”

  The crew saluted with their paddles, then rowed to their boathouse.

  “I’ve never seen anything so exciting in my life!” said Bess. “I’m exhausted!”

  After a round of hugs and enthusiastic chatter, the five young people sat down to await Ned. He came in about half an hour and received excited congratulations from his friends.

  “Thanks,” he said. “That race sure was a tough one. To tell you the truth, I thought we had lost.” He grinned. “I’m all in favor of high-speed cameras!”

  After the excitement had died down, he asked Nancy if she would go out with him in a canoe. “Oh, I’d love to,” she replied. “Let’s visit the area where the Lucy Belle is supposed to have sunk.”

  They said good-by to the other two couples and went to the boathouse. Nancy offered to paddle, but Ned only laughed, saying this would be an easy task after the grueling race. He started across the large cove and then hugged the shore line on the opposite side.

  “After talking with you about the Lucy Belle last night, Nancy, I recalled something that happened in our college library a couple of weeks ago. I noticed two men standing behind one of the stacks of books. I’m sure they didn’t belong to the university. At first I paid no attention to them, but when one of them, who had a deep, hoarse voice, mentioned ‘the Rorick treasure,’ I listened. Then they left.”

  Nancy was interested at once. “I wonder who they were. Did you see them?”

  “Sorry. I didn’t. But I did notice a book on the table which I’m sure they were looking at. It was a history of early Ohio River boats.”

  “They must have been looking up the Lucy Belle,” said Nancy. “Ned, if you ever happen to see those men again, try to find out who they are.”

  Ned smiled. “At your service, Miss Detective.”

  She now told him about Abigail Rorick’s wedding chest. “Maybe those men believe it is not lost! They might even think it was buried, and be hunting for it in the woods back of Uncle John’s house! That would explain the phantom’s light.”

  “Could be,” Ned replied.

  “I wish I knew more about the sinking of the Lucy Belle,” Nancy said.

  “I don’t know anything about the boat, but I can tell you a few stories about the history of this area that might give you a clue. Would you like Professor Nickerson to lecture?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye.

  “Please do,” Nancy begged.

  “‘Way back in 1807 the inhabitants of the Ohio Valley found it difficult to get cash. Silver dollars were scarce and the practice grew of dividing them into eight equal wedge-shaped pieces. These fractions got the nickname of bits and from this came the phrase ‘two bits,’ meaning one-quarter or two-eighths of a dollar!”

  Nancy smiled. “I’ve always wondered when I hear people mention ‘two bits’ where the name came from. Tell me another bit of history.”

  Ned said that Ohio River ports were stations for prospectors on their way to California during the Gold Rush of 1849. This was where they stocked up with provisions, including salt.

  “Did you know that the first mineral product of the Ohio Valley was salt?” Ned asked. When Nancy shook her head, he went on, “As you know, salt has been an essential food for man and animal since the beginning of time. In prehistoric days salt attracted not only human inhabitants to this area,
but also animals like the giant sloth, the mammoth elk, deer, and buffalo.”

  “That’s fascinating,” said Nancy. “Don’t stop.”

  “Professor will relate one more story and that’s the end of his knowledge.” Nancy giggled and Ned went on, “The Indians here were fearful that the white men would take away all their territory, so they raided and burned settlements. It was not until the American Army took over that the raids were stopped, around 1794.”

  By this time Ned was nearing Pine Hill. Nancy happened to look up the high embankment at the woods which ran to the Rorick garden. Suddenly she caught a flash of sunlight on glass.

  “Ned,” she said, “somebody is watching us with binoculars! See him up there among the trees?”

  Ned turned to look, resting his paddle. “You think that’s your phantom?” he asked.

  Nancy shrugged as they squinted into the afternoon sun, trying to see what the man looked like.

  Both she and Ned had heard the sound of a motorboat but had paid no attention. Suddenly they realized it was very close to them. The two turned and were horrified to see the craft bearing down on them.

  Ned dug his paddle into the water and tried to get out of the way as Nancy shouted and waved her arms to the pilot of the motorboat. But the man, crouched low behind the wheel so that his face could not be seen, paid no attention.

  A moment later he sideswiped the canoe. It shot out of the water and capsized, tossing Nancy and Ned overboard!

  CHAPTER IV

  Mysterious Thumbprints

  SMACK! Nancy and Ned hit the water and disappeared beneath the surface for a few seconds. Then both clawed their way to the top.

  “You okay?” they asked in unison.

  Each nodded Yes, but declared that they certainly had had a fright.

  They swam toward the overturned canoe which was badly scraped on one side. The paddle Ned had been using was smashed and the extra one that had been in the bottom of the canoe had floated away.

  “What a mess!” Ned said in disgust.

  Treading water, the couple talked over what to do. Since they were close to shore, they decided to swim in and tow the canoe. Then they would climb the embankment and trek through the woods to the Rorick home for dry clothes.