XXI
Capturing the Robbers
Eagerly, Nancy Drew tore the little notebook from the hook. The light was dim, but by holding the book directly under the dashlight, she could make out the words on the cover: “The Property of Josiah Crowley.”
“I’ve found it at last!” she cried.
Quickly turning the first few pages, she saw that they were yellowed with age. The writing was fine and cramped, and the ink had faded. These pages were crowded with business notations, but in the poor light it was next to impossible to make out the words.
Nancy was excited, for she was positive that the notebook would disclose what Josiah Crowley had done with his will. Yet, she realized that she could not hope to read through the book without a considerable loss of precious time. If she were to report the whereabouts of the robbers to the police, she must not delay another instant.
“I’ll read the notebook later,” she decided.
Hurriedly replacing it on the hook inside the clock, she tacked on the face again. Then dropping the timepiece on the seat beside her, she covered it with a blanket.
Starting the engine, she skillfully backed the roadster and headed for the main road. Reaching the highway, she cast an anxious glance in the direction the robbers had taken. There was no sign of a light on the road. The moving van had disappeared.
“I must travel some now,” Nancy told herself grimly. “Those robbers have at least ten minutes start, and I may have trouble finding the marshal and his deputies.”
Bending low over the steering wheel, she deliberately stepped hard on the accelerator. The roadster leaped forward as though it, too, comprehended the need for haste.
“If those men reach Garwin before the marshal overtakes them, there won’t be one chance in a hundred of capturing them,” Nancy thought. “It was foolish of me to take time to look at the clock.”
Presently reaching the fork in the road, she selected the right hand turn, and with undiminished speed rushed on. She had gone several miles beyond the fork when far ahead she caught sight of an automobile headlight. Nancy promptly reduced the speed of the car.
“The marshal and his deputies may have given up the search and are coming back,” she reasoned. “I must be careful not to pass them.”
As the automobile approached, Nancy slowed her roadster practically to a standstill. Then as she recognized the police car, she brought her own automobile to a halt. As the marshal and his deputies flashed by, she cried out for them to stop.
There was a loud screeching of brakes as the police car came to an abrupt halt. Springing from the roadster, Nancy ran forward.
“Quick!” she called to the marshal. “The robbers have taken the road to Garwin! If you hurry you can overtake them! Go on and I’ll follow!”
Without waiting for more, the marshal and his deputies drove off at top speed. The automobile rounded a bend and was lost to view.
For an instant Nancy Drew stood looking after it. Then, springing into her roadster, she, too, was off.
Following close behind the police car, the girl sped down the road in pursuit of the robbers. The two automobiles passed the roadhouse beyond the fork and raced toward Garwin.
“We should have overtaken the robbers by this time,” Nancy told herself anxiously, after a number of miles had been traversed and still there was no sight of a moving van. “They can’t have gone very far.”
Ten minutes passed. Then, unexpectedly, she caught a glimpse of a red tail light on the road far ahead.
“It must be the van!” Nancy thought. “The light doesn’t appear to be moving fast enough for an automobile.”
Evidently, the marshal and his deputies were of the same opinion, for at that moment the police car slowed down.
“Don’t fire unless it’s necessary,” the marshal ordered his men. “But if they resist, pepper them!”
Cautiously, the police car approached. As the headlight played upon the rear of the van, Nancy saw the license plate clearly and recognized the numbers.
Then as the van pulled over to the side of the road, the police car drove alongside.
“Halt!” came the order.
The van did not stop. Instead, it put on additional speed and crowded the police car toward the ditch. Nancy’s heart was in her mouth as she watched, for it seemed certain that the marshal and his deputies were doomed.
At the very edge of the road, the police car by a sudden spurt of speed forged ahead and averted disaster.
“Halt!” rang out the warning cry a second time. “Halt or we’ll fire!”
There was a sharp crack of a revolver as the robbers fired the first shot.
The marshal and his deputies answered with a quick volley. One of the shots found its mark—the front tire. The van swerved in the road, and as the two side wheels went off into a steep ditch, toppled over.
In an instant the marshal and his men were out of the police car and had covered the three robbers. So easily had the van tipped on its side that the men were not injured, but the unexpected jar had thrown them off their guard.
“Take their guns!” the marshal ordered.
A deputy relieved the three men of their revolvers and searched their pockets for other dangerous weapons. Another deputy handcuffed them.
By this time Nancy, who had stopped her roadster at the side of the road, reached the scene. As she came running up, the marshal turned to her.
“Can you identify these men?”
As a light was flashed upon each of the robbers in turn, Nancy nodded.
“There is the man who locked me up and left me to starve,” she declared, pointing to the leader of the robber band. “And the stolen goods are in the van.”
“They’ll get ten or twenty years for this,” the marshal promised. “We’ll hold them on several charges. You are willing to testify against them, I suppose?”
“Yes, if it is necessary,” Nancy promised reluctantly. “But I don’t live in this county and I’m anxious to get home right away. It seems to me you have enough evidence to convict them.”
“Well, if you don’t want to I guess there’s no need for you to go back with us,” the marshal admitted. “I’ll take your address and if your testimony should be required later I’ll get in touch with you.”
As Nancy told the marshal her name and address, he glanced at her with new interest.
“So you’re the daughter of Carson Drew! I see you’re following in his footsteps. Starting in young, aren’t you?”
Nancy laughed.
“It was only an accident that took me to the Topham bungalow at the critical moment,” she protested modestly. “I don’t deserve any credit for the roundup.”
“Not many girls would have used their brains the way you did,” the marshal observed. “Unless I’m mistaken, these robbers are old hands at the game. They have been plying their trade around Moon Lake for a number of seasons. The residents will be mighty grateful for what you’ve done. And that Mrs. Topham you spoke of—she ought to give you a liberal reward for saving her household goods.”
Nancy shook her head.
“I don’t want a reward.”
“Just the same you’ve earned one,” the marshal insisted. “If you’re shy about blowing your own horn, I’ll take it up with this Mrs. Topham myself.”
“You don’t know her as well as I do,” Nancy remarked. “She’ll not offer a reward, and even if she did I wouldn’t accept it. In fact, I must ask you not to mention my name to her at all.”
“You don’t want any credit for capturing the robbers?” the marshal gasped in astonishment.
“No, I would prefer that my name not be mentioned in connection with the affair. I have a particular reason for making the request.”
“Well, you’re a queer one,” the marshal remarked. “You’re the first person I ever saw who didn’t want to take all the glory that was coming to him.”
“You’ll not mention my name?”
“No, I’ll keep it mum,” the marshal promised. “And if you’re anxious not to figure in the case, I guess we can get along without your testimony.” He turned toward the moving van. “I’ll just have a look inside and see if everything is here.”
Taking the keys which one of the deputies had turned over to him, the marshal unlocked the rear doors of the van and carelessly glanced inside.
“It’s all here,” he announced.
Nancy smiled and thought of the clock which at the moment was hidden under a blanket in her roadster less than a dozen yards away.
“Let’s be getting away from here,” the marshal directed briskly. He singled out one of the deputies. “You stay here and guard the stolen goods until we can send another truck after it. I’ll see to it that these robbers land behind bars, and then I’ll come back.”
“Just a minute,” Nancy interposed as the marshal was about to escort the three robbers to the police car. “I want to ask a few questions.”
She turned to the leader of the robbers.
“It was you who stole the keys from Jeff Tucker after getting him drunk, wasn’t it?”
“What if I did?” the robber growled. “I wish I’d finished him!”
Unceremoniously, the three prisoners were crowded into the police car. One of the deputies took the steering wheel and another stood on the running board, covering the robbers with his revolver. There was no room left for the marshal.
“Are you going back through town?” he asked Nancy.
“Yes, it’s right on my way to River Heights,” she responded without a thought as to the purpose of the question.
“Then if you don’t mind I’ll ride back with you. There isn’t room in the police car.”
“Why—why, of course,” Nancy stammered.
At once she thought of the clock which she had left on the seat of the roadster. What if the marshal should discover it?
Even as the thought came to her, the marshal started toward the roadster.