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Cancellation!






 

While Nancy stared at the unusual name she had written on a notepad, she also noticed a bright yellow flier poking through the morning mail on the hall table. It was an announcement from the River Heights Music Festival, which she opened quickly.

“Canceled? ” she said, mystified, as her eyes fell on the large stamp mark that obliterated the names of several artist groups, including the Jansen Theater Troupe, which was scheduled to perform that evening.

I wonder if Dad knows about this, the girl detective thought.

Carson Drew, however, had already left for a business appointment, and the only way she could get some answers was to go to the River Heights Theater herself. Taking a quick glance at her watch, she pocketed the flier and dashed to her car.

It was no surprise to Nancy when she arrived that at least thirty ticket holders to the festival had begun to descend on the box office. Many of them were carrying the cancellation notice and complaining angrily.

“Excuse me, ” the girl found herself saying over and over as she weaved through the crowd now queuing up into long lines.

“Hey, kid, ” one man snarled at Nancy when she stepped in front of him. “Where do you think you’re going? I was here first.”

“I only want to find out where the manager is, ” Nancy insisted.

“Don’t we all, ” he replied, as a tall, angular man strode into view.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am Mr. Hillyer, the manager, ” he said, “and I want you to know that none of the performances have been canceled. The notice is a mistake—”

“I’ll say it was! ” one irritated woman cut in loudly, causing the people around her to echo the complaint.

“Please—please. Let me explain, ” the manager replied. He raised his hand, signaling the crowd to be quiet. “Your tickets will be honored at every performance. Nothing has been canceled. Believe me.”

Somebody must’ve gotten hold of the festival’s mailing list and sent that announcement just to stir up trouble, Nancy concluded.

She waited for the crowd to disperse, then approached the manager.

“I’m Carson Drew’s daughter, ” she said brightly, watching the man’s relaxed demeanor fade.

Had the ill will of some of the townspeople toward the attorney filtered down to the festival management?

“What can I do for you? ” the manager answered coolly.

“Well, I was wondering if you had any idea about the person who sent that cancellation notice.”

“Why don’t you ask your father? ” the man snapped, and before Nancy could come to her father’s defense, he excused himself.

Now, more than ever, she was determined to vindicate the Drew name.

All the way to the restaurant where she was to meet George and Bess, the girl constructed her next move. When they were all finally seated at a vacant table, Bess’s eyes sparkled.

“You’re awfully happy today, ” Nancy commented.

Bess shook her head excitedly, while George smiled pleasantly. Had the cousins made some important discovery? Nancy wondered.

“Don’t keep me in suspense, ” she told them. “Did you find Cliff, or do you know where—”

“No, nothing that spectacular, ” George mumbled.

“But I think we’ve figured out an ingenious way to find his ring, ” Bess put in. “Since it’s so unusual—”

“And valuable, ” George added.

“All we have to do is put an ad in the newspaper, ” her cousin finished.

“But if the guy who ran off with it is a thief, why would he even consider selling it back? I’m sure he’s not stupid.”

“True, but I bet he’s greedy, ” Bess replied, “and if the reward is tempting enough, he might just fall into the trap.”

Nancy half agreed, but was far from convinced and changed the subject momentarily. She brought the girls up to date on everything that had happened so far, ending with the information about Dev Singh.

“Do you have time now to check out his address? ” Nancy asked her friends.

“Sure, ” George said. “Let’s go.”

The threesome ate their lunch quickly, then headed for Nancy’s car, as another idea occurred to Bess.

“Mr. Jhaveri’s store isn’t far from here, ” she noted. “I’d like to find out what he thinks Cliff s ring is worth.”

So the girls changed direction and walked a few blocks up the street. There were only four customers inside the store, and when they dwindled to one lone woman admiring the contents of a display case in the corner, Nancy and the girls spoke to the jeweler.

“How much would you estimate the ring we showed you is worth? ” Nancy asked.

“Oh, that’s hard to say. The gold itself could bring a handsome price.”

“Can’t you be more specific? ” Bess pressed him.

“Offhand, I’m afraid not. But if you give me a little time to think, I may be able to give you an answer.”

As he talked, Nancy thought she detected someone in the office behind the man. But then she realized it was only an unframed photograph that reflected in a wall mirror. She had not paid attention to it on previous visits. This time, however, she found herself transfixed. It was a picture of someone who bore an uncanny resemblance to Keshav Lal!

“Is something wrong? ” George whispered to the girl.

“N-no, ” Nancy said, blinking her eyes in another direction. Then, on impulse, she asked Mr. Jhaveri if he knew Lal.

“He’s my cousin, ” the man remarked with a touch of surprise in his voice. “You know him? ”

“I met him at the Swain Lake Lodge, ” Nancy said, stringing out her thoughts slowly. “It just hit me that you might have some information about the swami’s retreat.”

Mr. Jhaveri shook his head vigorously. “I’ve never been there, ” he said.

“But you are aware of it, ” Nancy said.

“Yes, of course. Many of us Indians are, but I personally am not a follower of Ramaswami.”

Nancy was even tempted to inquire if he knew someone by the name of Dev Singh, but decided not to until she had investigated him further. Instead, she continued her current line of questioning.

“Mr. Lal directed me to a trail, ” Nancy said, “but I’d bet there’s another, easier route.”

The man simply shrugged his shoulders, and as the lady customer came forward, he took advantage of the opportunity to escape from the girls.

They left, puzzling over their latest discovery.

“He seemed awfully nervous when you mentioned Lal’s name, ” George told Nancy.

“I know, but why? ”

No answer occurred to any of them as they drove to the address which the police said belonged to Dev Singh. When the young detectives reached it, however, they were completely stumped, because standing on the site was not a house or an apartment building, but a place called Hamburger Haven!

“Too bad we already ate lunch, ” George said, as their car hummed in the driveway.

“And too bad we’re not getting anywhere, ” Bess added with a sigh.

Nancy, too, had secretly begun to feel defeated, but she flashed an optimistic smile at her friends. “I have a hunch there’s an answer to this mystery just around the corner! ” she exclaimed.

 






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