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Spook in Armor






 

Wide-eyed, the girls looked at each other in alarm. Shakily, Bess whispered, " Oh, Nancy, quick, call Mr. Baxter! "

George, white-faced and nervous with her eyes glued to the door to the corridor, chimed in, " That's a good idea! "

Nancy switched on the walkie-talkie and spoke to the night watchman. " Mr. Baxter, this is Nancy Drew. Come quickly, please! "

There was no response.

The clanking footsteps had stopped and the doorknob was slowly turning as she called more urgently, " Mr. Baxter! Someone's coming into the storage room! Answer please! "

Again there was no reply from the walkietalkie.

Transfixed with fright, the three girls watched as the door swung open. They could hardly believe what they saw next.

The metal-shod intruder who clanked slowly into the room was a ghostly figure in armor!

Earlier in the evening, after looking over the paintings and uncrated art objects, the girls had shut off all except one of the bright fluorescent ceiling lights. The shadowy gloom added to the spooky appearance of their strange visitor.

" Oh, no! " Bess gulped in a squeaky whisper. " We must be seeing things! "

In one gauntleted fist, the spectral knight was clutching a halberd, a spearlike weapon with a broad ax close to its pointed tip. The figure's visor was down, preventing them from seeing any face inside the helmet.

Bess and George backed away in terror as the armoured specter came stalking toward them. Suddenly it swung the long weapon, knocking the walkie-talkie out of Nancy's hand with the flat side of the ax blade!

Her own knees weak with fright, Nancy yielded to panic and followed her two friends. The girls retreated into a small side room used for record-keeping and filing. But they were still not safe, as they quickly discovered when they tried to lock the door.

" There's n-n-no key! " George hissed, fumbling frantically in the dark.

In desperation, all three girls leaned against the door, waiting to hold it shut should the weird intruder try to come after them.

Minutes passed and... nothing happened!

By this time, Nancy had regained her calm. Bravely she decided to open the door and confront the armored spook.

" No, Nancy! " Bess begged. " Don't go out there! Let's just wait in here. Maybe it'll go away! "

" Don't worry, I'll be careful, " Nancy promised. Putting her fingers to her lips, she slowly opened the door and peeked out.

The figure in armor was just turning away with a faint chuckle, evidently satisfied that he had frightened the three girls enough to keep them from giving him any trouble. He had laid down his halberd on a crate just behind him, and now was about to look through some of the paintings.

If only she could reach the halberd without being heard!

Taking a deep breath, Nancy tiptoed back into the main storage room. Step by step, she crept stealthily toward the weapon.

Just as she reached out and put her hand on the halberd, the ghostly knight turned! He had pushed up the visor of his helmet, and a pair of eyes glittered fiendishly out at her!

Swiftly Nancy snatched up the weapon and swung it. The flat of the ax smacked against the knight's helmet, staggering him!

He lurched toward the door, apparently dazed. Nancy darted in pursuit and whacked him again, this time almost knocking him down. But he managed to plunge out the door and slam it shut behind him!

Nancy uttered a faint groan of dismay as she tried the knob again and again but could not turn it. By this time, George and Bess had ventured out of their hiding place and were hurrying to join her.

" We're locked in! " she told them.

" Oh golly, Nancy, you were so brave! I was too petrified to do anything! " Bess said.

" Same here, " George admitted a bit sheepishly. Putting her hands on her hips, she gazed all around, looking for another exit through which they might reach the stairway leading up to the main floor. " What do we do now, sit and wait? "

Nancy shook her head vigorously. " No, I'm going to get this door opened! "

" How? " asked Bess, none too hopefully.

" Just let me get my purse, and maybe I can show you."

Her friends followed Nancy across the room to where they had left their purses on one of the worktables. Then the other two watched as she began rummaging through her bag.

" What are you looking for, Nancy? " asked George.

" Oh, gosh... a bobbypin, a hairpin, a nail file, " Nancy said as she emptied out the contents of her brown leather shoulder bag. " Something I can use to pick that door lock."

Bess and George now followed suit and began to search their own bags.

" I might just have a bobby pin in here somewhere, " Bess said. " It's been so long since I emptied this out..." Her voice trailed off.

" Eureka! This may do it, " Nancy exclaimed, holding up a paper clip.

Going back to the door, she unbent the clip and inserted one end in the lock. Then she began to probe delicately, moving the wire this way and that.

After many breathless moments, the three heard a click!

Nancy removed the paper clip, then turned to Bess and George, putting one finger to her lips. " I doubt if that spook is still out there, but let's not take any chances."

Very quietly, she opened the door a crack and peered out. She could see no one in the corridor. Encouraged, she cautiously pushed the door open the rest of the way.

Their unpleasant visitor was gone.

" Thank heavens! " George breathed in relief.

The only trace left of the phantom knight was a carelessly discarded pile of armor.

Nancy telephoned the police. Then, confident that the intruder or intruders had fled, the girls began a hasty search for the missing watchman. They found him on the second floor as they passed the open doorway of the curator's office.

" There he is! " Bess gasped fearfully.

Mr. Baxter lay sprawled on the floor near the curator's desk. There were two telephones on the desk. The receiver of one was hanging over the edge, dangling at the end of its cord.

The girls hurried to attend to the unconscious watchman. George knelt beside the elderly man and felt his pulse.

" Is he all right? " her cousin asked, holding one hand pressed anxiously to her cheek as she watched.

George nodded. " I think so. Smells as if he's been chloroformed or given ether."

Nancy hurried off to the water fountain in the corridor and moistened her handkerchief. Just as she returned to the office, Mr. Baxter began to groan. George raised his head and shoulders slightly while Nancy bathed his forehead with the cool, damp cloth.

Presently the watchman's eyes flickered open and he struggled to sit up. Once he had gotten his bearings, he told the girls that while he was patroling inside the building, he had heard the phone ringing in the curator's office.

" I went in to answer it, and just as I picked up the receiver, someone grabbed me in a bear hug from behind. Then another guy held a cloth over my nose and mouth. That's that last I remember until now."

At the girls' insistence, the elderly man sat resting in an armchair until the police arrived.

A cruiser was first on the scene, followed soon afterward by a squad car from police headquarters. Two detectives listened carefully to the girls' story and promised that the armor would be dusted for fingerprints. Then a uniformed officer escorted them to Nancy's parked car. The young policeman even wanted to have the cruiser shepherd them safely home, but Nancy laughingly declined.

Next morning over a breakfast of sausages and pancakes, Nancy told her father and Hannah about the night's events at the museum.

Carson Drew looked thoughtful and remarked, " I believe I'll drop in on Police Chief McGinnis today and see what they've found out."

The housekeeper's kindly face had taken on a worried expression. " Nancy, this case sounds as though it's getting dangerous, " she said.

The sleuth grinned across the table. " Not really. It's just getting exciting."

A few moments later she finished her coffee, got up from her chair, and kissed her father good-bye. " I'm going to follow your suggestion, Hannah, " Nancy announced, " and pay a visit to the River Heights Historical Society."

Soon afterward, she was pulling up her car in front of its destination. The historical society was housed appropriately in an old Victorian mansion bequeathed to it by a long-dead member.

Inside, Nancy was greeted by the friendly, white-haired secretary of the society, Mr. George Teakin. He listened to her request and seemed delighted at a chance to help the famous young detective.

" Let me just make a note of what you're after, " he said, pulling a small, leather-bound notebook out of his coat pocket. After jotting down the details, he added, " This may take a while, Miss Drew, but I'll check through all the old newspapers of that period and see if I can find any news items about the Duvals."

'Td really appreciate it, Mr. Teakin. Thank you ever so much."

Slipping behind the wheel of her sports car again, Nancy headed back to the River Heights Art Museum. As she drove through the busy morning streets, she reviewed last night's happenings in her mind.

If only I'd been able to catch that crook in armor, she thought, I'd have the answer to one mystery right now!

Arriving at the museum, Nancy inquired for Mr. Gregory and was told that he was down in the basement storage area. In a few moments she was opening the door of the big, brightly lit, cement-walled room.

The curator was nowhere in sight, but a dark-haired young woman in a smock was sorting out a group of paintings. Nancy recognized her as his assistant, Jane Heron.

" Is Mr. Gregory around? " Nancy asked, walking toward her.

Miss Heron looked up and greeted her with a smile. " He was here just a minute ago, " she replied. " He must have stepped out somewhere."

Nancy caught her breath as she suddenly noticed a painting which the curator's assistant had just laid aside.

It showed a sphinxlike statuette and a gray cat in a desert landscape, with the moon rising eerily behind them!

 






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