A Chinese Puzzle

NANCY recovered her senses in a few minutes and got up. There was a dull throbbing in her forehead, but her memory cleared at once.

Her first thought was of George. There was no sign of her. The maroon coupé was gone, and for an instant Nancy was fearful her friend might have been kidnapped. But she discarded the horrible thought at once.

“More than likely George was knocked out too, ” she reasoned.

Picking up her handbag, which lay on the ground, she began calling George’s name. To Nancy’s relief, the shout was answered.

“I’m over here! Blindfolded! My hands are tied! ”

Nancy traced the sound. George stood with her back to a tree, rubbing her wrists against the bark to tear off the belt of her dress with which they were bound. Nancy quickly freed her and removed the blindfold. George’s story differed only slightly from Nancy’s.

“It all happened so fast! ” George said. She took a deep breath. “I thought I’d lost the men. When I turned around to go back to you, one of them jumped out of the bushes and tied my scarf over my eyes. I screamed and tried to tear it off. But another man bound my hands and told me to keep still! ”

“Did you see either of them? ” Nancy asked.

“Not enough of their faces to identify them.”

Nancy led the way out of the woods to the road. The girls, disappointed and chagrined, but thankful nothing harmful had happened, climbed into Nancy’s car and headed for home.

Suddenly George shook off the mood and grinned. “Those fellows were pretty dumb, ” she said. “You have their license number.”

“And they left some other evidence.” Nancy told of the pieces of the bowl still in her purse. “One of the men might have been Manning.”

Some time later Nancy stopped in front of George’s house, and her friend got out. “See you tonight at Helen’s birthday party.”

“You bet. I wouldn’t miss it for anything! ”

Nancy drove to the motor-vehicle office to learn the name of the owner of the maroon coupé, if possible. The man in charge knew her, and after hearing her story, obligingly telephoned state headquarters for the information.

“You just got here in time, ” he said, while holding the telephone. “We’re about to close.”

He found that the license plates had been issued to a Paul Scott of Masonville, and that the coupe had been reported stolen that very afternoon!

“I’ll bet those men planned to hide the car in the woods until they could paint it another color and put different license plates on it, ” Nancy said to the man. “May I call the police? ”

“Sure thing. Use my desk phone.”

After Nancy had talked to Police Chief McGinnis, she drove to Dick Milton’s shop and told him about the leaning chimney in Masonville. Dick was disappointed that the clue had not led to a China clay pit. Then Nancy left him and headed for Mr. Drew’s office. She had promised to pick up her father at six o’clock.

Fortunately an automobile pulled away from the curb in front of the building where Carson Drew had his law office. Nancy skillfully guided the convertible into the vacant spot. As she was about to get out, she saw a short Chinese gentleman with spectacles and a tiny goatee emerge from the building.

“Mr. Soong! ” she called.

The Chinese smiled and came over to her.

“You’re just the person I want to see! ” Nancy greeted him. “Can you spare a minute? ”

Mr. Soong nodded. He looked very natty in a gray felt hat and a blue pin-striped suit. He carried a handsome Malacca cane. Nancy opened the door and he seated himself beside her.

“May I drive you home? ” she asked.

“That would be very kind. I must hurry to keep an engagement.”

On the way, she told Mr. Soong of her day’s adventures. The Oriental gentleman’s face reflected his amazement. He could not identify John Manning, but he begged Nancy to be extremely careful in further investigations.

When Nancy pulled up at Mr. Soong’s home, she opened her bag and took out the wrinkled newspaper which held the broken fragments of a Chinese bowl. But first she showed Mr. Soong the symbols she had copied.

“I hope they’re not as mystifying to you as they are to me, ” Nancy remarked.

“It is no mystery what they mean, ” he replied.

“It is no mystery what the symbols mean, ” Mr. Soong replied

He translated the first set of symbols on the sheet, pointing his finger at each character as he spoke. “Made in the studio of deep peace.”

Nancy looked at him, perplexed, but he went on to the second group of characters. “Made for the hall of fragrant virtue, ” he translated.

Mr. Soong smiled at Nancy’s puzzled expression. “Each set of symbols is a sort of Chinese hallmark, ” he explained. ”That is to say, they’re like the little mark an American manufacturer sometimes stamps on his products.”

“I know what you mean, ” Nancy interposed. “I’ve seen such marks on silver and gold.”

Mr. Soong nodded in quick agreement. “Such symbols have been used for centuries by the Chinese to designate an article as authentic and of fine workmanship, ” he said. “They go back centuries to the great Sung, Ming, and Ch’in dynasties.”

“How interesting! ” said Nancy.

Mr. Soong peered again at the symbols. “These particular sets of markings are very old and famous, ” he said. “They are from the Ming dynasty and are well known to all experts on porcelains.”

“Oh! ” exclaimed Nancy. “I’m learning more than I had hoped! ” Her brow knit in a frown. “But what use would Manning have for copies of the markings? ” she persisted. “And why should he take such pains to conceal them? ”

Mr. Soong gave a gentle shrug and smiled. “That I do not know.”

Nancy showed him the Chinese newspaper she had taken from the attic in Masonville. It was a Chinese daily published in New York, Mr. Soong told her.

“This Mr. Manning may work with Chinese in New York, ” he suggested.

Next, Nancy opened the wrinkled newspaper which held the fragments of the broken bowl. The paper, Nancy saw, was the same as the other.

Mr. Soong examined the pieces with interest, but they were so small he could tell only that the bowl had been made of excellent clay. He looked at Nancy inquiringly, as if to ask for more information. But she shook her head with a sigh.

“They’re all the leads I have—this time! ” she replied.

Mr. Soong stepped from the car and gravely shook Nancy’s hand.

“You have done very well, Miss Drew, ” he said softly. “With the help of both members of your illustrious family, I am confident that my unworthy problems will soon be solved.”

The Chinese bowed slightly, then turned and went up the walk to his front door. Nancy looked after him, puzzled. “Now, what did he mean by that? ” she asked herself.

Nancy hurried back to her father’s office building. While she was trying to squeeze into a parking space, a familiar voice said:

“Mind if I take you home? ”

Nancy looked around swiftly. “Dad! ” she cried.

She planted a kiss on his cheek as he got in. Carson Drew was a tall, handsome man of middle age, with alert blue eyes like those of his daughter, Like Nancy’s, too, they twinkled when his sense of humor was aroused.

The relationship between Nancy and her father was warm and companionable. No matter how busy Mr. Drew was with his own criminal cases, he always found time to discuss Nancy’s cases.

Now, driving home, the distinguished-looking attorney and his attractive daughter talked about her latest adventures. As Nancy swung the convertible into the driveway of the Drew home, she suddenly remembered Mr. Soong’s parting words. Nancy repeated them to her father and asked if he knew what they meant.

“You bet I do. Mr. Soong paid me a visit today. He wants you and me to undertake a search.”

“A search? ”

“That’s right. A Chinese puzzle that goes back five years! ”

He got out of the car and Nancy quickly followed him.

“Dad, stop keeping me in suspensel” she begged. “What’s it all about? ”

“I’ll tell when we get inside, ” he promised, mounting the steps to the porch. “It’s the story of the missing Engs! ”