XVI
The Stranger
Nancy Drew, hoping that she had hit upon a genuine clue at last, determined to lose no time in gathering evidence concerning Mary Mason. Yet, in considering her next move she scarcely knew how to proceed. Probably it would prove futile to question the girl, but she decided to try the method at last.
Deciding not to wait until after luncheon, she hurried out to her roadster. She started the motor, but before she could pull away Mrs. Carter thrust her head out of the front window and called to her.
“Miss Nancy, if you’re going down town will you stop at the corner grocery and see why they haven’t delivered the things I ordered?”
“All right, I will,” Nancy promised, though she would have preferred not to have been detained.
Reaching the neighborhood store, she stopped to do the errand. Upon being assured that the groceries would be delivered immediately, she went back to the roadster.
She was just stepping into it again when her attention was attracted to a man who was walking down the opposite side of the street. Ordinarily, she would not have given a stranger a second glance, but there was something about this man that commanded her attention.
It was not his clothing which held her eyes, though he was dressed in a flashy suit, but rather his entire bearing. The man walked with an exaggerated swagger which unmistakably marked him as a tough.
From where she stood, Nancy Drew could not see the hard facial lines, but quite without realizing it she took note of the man’s hooked nose.
Walking rapidly, the stranger continued down the street. Watching him more from curiosity than anything else, Nancy was about to turn away when she saw something white flutter from his pocket.
“Oh! He lost something!” she thought. “Perhaps it’s an important letter! I’d better run after him and tell him!”
She dashed across the street and snatched up the bit of white. To her disappointment it was only an old envelope which the stranger had dropped.
“Sold, that time!” Nancy laughed.
She was on the verge of tossing the envelope into the gutter when she noticed that it bore a name and address written in a cramped hand. She scanned it carelessly and her eyes opened wider.
The name was “Mr. B. Mason” and the address was a street in Dockville.
“Mason! I wonder if he can be any relation to Mary Mason!”
Startled at the thought, she glanced down the street and was just in time to see the man turn at the corner.
“I wonder where he’s going?” she questioned. “I believe I’ll see if I can find out.”
Hurrying after the man, she turned the corner and again caught sight of him. Though she walked as swiftly as she could, she found it impossible to overtake him.
“I believe he’s heading for the interurban station,” she decided.
Nancy had guessed correctly. A moment later the stranger turned in at the station, disappearing inside the building.
“It will be simple to find out where he’s going,” Nancy told herself. “I’ll just saunter inside the station myself and wait until he buys his ticket.”
However, her plans were not destined to be carried into effect, for at that moment a long, piercing whistle reached her ears. The people standing on the platform began to gather up their packages and baggage, and the stranger, who had just entered the station, came hurrying out. Obviously, he had not had sufficient time to purchase a ticket.
Nancy began to run. She reached the tracks almost breathless, and dashed across to the platform only an instant before the interurban cars thundered into the station.
“All aboard,” the conductor shouted.
The stranger was one of the first to enter the coach.
“Oh, I’d give a nickle to know where he’s going,” Nancy thought desperately. “I know he didn’t have time to buy a ticket.”
“All aboard,” the conductor called again, glancing inquiringly toward her.
“I feel it in my bones he’s some relation to Mary Mason. There wouldn’t be more than one Mason family in Dockville,” Nancy went on to herself. “If I let him get away I may have passed up a valuable clue.”
She came to with a start as she saw that the train was slowly moving out of the station. Forced to a sudden decision, she ran forward and impulsively swung herself upon the last coach. The deed done, she considered her action with a little misgiving.
“What a foolish thing to do!” she accused herself. “I probably won’t have enough money to take me where that man is going, and I’ll land in some town stranded. Then Dad will have to come after me and I’ll get the parental ha-ha!”
The train was still moving slowly and Nancy could have changed her mind, but though she was not certain that she had done a wise thing, she had no intention of turning back. Walking through the train she caught sight of the stranger and slid into a seat directly behind him. The man picked up a newspaper and fell to reading.
Peering over his shoulder, Nancy Drew observed that he turned to a page on which there was a reference to the Willoughby robbery. He read the item through and then tossed the paper aside.
Presently, the conductor came into the coach, taking up tickets. Confronted with a situation which might prove embarrassing, Nancy Drew dug down into her pocketbook. By rounding up all the nickles and dimes, she found that she had exactly six dollars and eighty-five cents. Not a great deal, but perhaps it would take her as far as she wanted to go.
To her relief, the conductor paused beside the stranger before coming to her. She heard the man explain that he had not had time to buy a ticket.
“Where to then?” the conductor demanded gruffly.
“Winchester.”
In relief Nancy settled back into her seat. Winchester was a large city some fifty miles from River Heights. She knew she would have enough money to take her there and back easily.
When the conductor came to her she had her cash fare ready and received her ticket without attracting the attention of the man she was following.
“I hope he doesn’t discover I’m trailing him,” she thought. “If he does, I won’t learn a thing.”
The man did not pay the slightest attention to her, but stared out of the window with a blank expression. Some time later when the porter called “Winchester” he sprang to his feet and hurried down the aisle to be one of the first out of the coach. Nancy followed as closely as she dared, but nearly lost him in the crowd on the station platform.
To her relief the man did not call a taxi, but set off on foot. Again he walked rapidly, and it was all she could do to keep him in sight.
Nancy Drew had frequently visited Winchester and in general was familiar with the city. She had not walked far until she became aware that the stranger was leading her into the poorer section, a district frequented by pawnbrokers, fences, criminals and down-and-outers. Once the man she was following glanced around, and for a moment Nancy thought that she must have been seen. But as he continued again she decided that she had been mistaken.
She saw the man turn a corner, and hurried faster so as not to lose sight of him. Turning the same corner a moment later she found to her amazement that he had vanished.
“Now where could he have gone so quickly?” she asked herself. “He couldn’t have dodged into an alley, for there isn’t one close.”
The only alternative was that the man had entered one of the pawnbroker shops along the street.
“I’ll wait until he comes out,” Nancy decided, with a chuckle. “Then, after he’s out of sight, I’ll go in myself and give the pawnbroker the third degree. Who knows? I may track down those jewels this very afternoon!”
Nancy waited patiently for twenty minutes and then, because she was attracting attention, crossed the street and walked a short distance only to retrace her steps. She waited another fifteen minutes, and still the stranger did not appear.
“I guess I’ve lost him,” Nancy told herself, in disgust. “He probably saw that I was following him and decided to give me the slip. No use waiting any longer.”
Because she was not willing to give up easily, she entered several of the pawnbroker shops on the street and inquired if a man answering the description she gave had been seen. Usually her polite question was answered with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders, and at last Nancy decided that she was wasting her time.
“Just the same, I believe that man went into one of those places,” she thought, as she slowly made her way back to the interurban station. “If only I had been a trifle more alert I might have found out something important.”
Reaching the station, Nancy consulted a timetable and found that a train for River Heights would leave in ten minutes. She bought her ticket and sat down to wait, discouraged at the turn her adventure had taken.
“Well, I don’t consider the time wholly wasted, anyway,” she defended herself. “I’m more than ever convinced that I’m on a track that will get me somewhere. Tomorrow I’ll drive to Dockville and see Mary Mason. And if she isn’t willing to tell me what I want to know, I’ll find a way to make her tell. I must solve that mystery of Lilac Inn!”