XVIII
Notifying the Police
It was probably fortunate for Nancy Drew that the traffic police were not patrolling the road, for as she opened the throttle wider and wider, her roadster responded with a surge of power that sent the car along at breathtaking speed.
“Dis ole bus can suah step,” observed Jeff. “ ’Spose it turns turtle?”
“Don’t worry, Jeff. It won’t. I know this roadster.”
Nancy Drew did know the limit to which she dared go. She guided the car skillfully and in a short time they were entering the outskirts of Melborne, the nearest town to the Topham bungalow.
“Bettah slow down now, Miss,” Jeff cautioned. “De marshal of dis town is mighty persnickitty about how folks acts. He’s run me in mo’n once.”
“For speeding?”
“No, just fo’ enjoyin’ myself.”
“Then I suppose you can tell me where the jail is.”
“ ’Deed I can, Miss. I suah can! Fact is, dis is my favorite jail. You goes right down Central Avenue to Maple Street and turns to de left, and dar you is.”
The roadster stopped in front of the building with a lurch, and Nancy stepped out briskly, with Jeff following at a more leisurely gait.
“I must see an officer,” Nancy announced as she entered the office. “I want to report a robbery.”
A buzzer rang and soon a marshal, followed by several men, entered. Nancy quickly told them all she knew about the Topham robbery, and to corroborate what she had said, she called Jeff for his version.
“She speaks de troof,” testified Jeff, “ ’cept she don’t make it strong enough. First thing dey kidnaps me so I won’t be around to raise no ruckus. Den dey gives me some kind of a sleepin’ powdah and pahks me in a ho‑tel. But I comes to and goes back, and dar I find dis gu’l cooped up in a closet just as she told you. And dey wrecked Mis’ Topham’s house and stole all de furniture.”
The marshal and his men listened attentively, and plied Nancy with questions to clear up certain points.
“Have you any idea which road they took?” the marshal asked her.
“Yes, sir. I examined the tire tracks where the thieves had backed a truck up to the house and noticed the pattern they made in the turf. When we passed the road-crossing a few miles out of town, I saw the same tracks just off to the side of the road where they had slipped off in turning their truck northward.”
“Can you lead the way?”
“Yes, I’ll do everything in my power to help.”
The marshal terminated the interview by giving curt orders to his deputies.
“Get your automobile started,” he directed Nancy. “We’ll follow in the police car.”
“Hurry!” Nancy begged as she turned toward the door. “Those men have nearly an hour’s start of us now!”
Hastily, she ran to the street and sprang into the roadster. Starting the motor, she waited impatiently for the marshal and his men to appear. After a seemingly interminable wait, they came out, buckling on holsters.
They piled into the “police car” which stood at the curbing and the marshal took the wheel. After several unsuccessful attempts he started the motor. Jeff Tucker, who had followed the men from the office, would have inflicted his person upon the already overburdened car, but as he attempted to gain the running board, he was forced gently but firmly back upon the sidewalk.
“Follow me!” Nancy cried to the marshal.
Shifting gears, she started off down the road. At the corner she looked back to see that the police car was following, and caught a glimpse of Jeff Tucker who stood gazing mournfully after the departing automobiles.
At the edge of town, Nancy selected the road which she felt certain the robbers had taken. Her high-powered roadster was built for speed and several times she was forced to slow down in order that the marshal and his men might keep her in sight.
Nancy had gone perhaps eight or nine miles when unexpectedly she came to a fork in the road. Uncertain which branch-off to take, she brought the roadster to a halt. The police car pulled up alongside.
“What’s the matter now?” the marshal called out.
“I don’t know which way to go.”
The marshal and his deputies sprang from their automobile and began to examine the tracks in the road. But if a moving van had passed that way, the tire marks had been obliterated by other vehicles. There was no clue to indicate which route the robbers had selected.
“They must have taken the righthand fork,” the marshal hazarded.
Nancy shook her head doubtfully.
“Doesn’t the lefthand road lead to Garwin?” The marshal nodded.
“Then it strikes me the robbers would have taken that road. It seems reasonable that they would head for a large city where they could dispose of the stolen goods.”
“Maybe you’re right,” the marshal admitted reluctantly.
“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” Nancy proposed, as she had an inspiration. “You take the righthand road and I’ll head for Garwin.”
“And if you should overtake those rascals, what would you do?” the marshal demanded in some amusement. “You couldn’t expect to stop them single-handed.”
“I wouldn’t try. I’d race back and give the alarm. Hurry! Every minute that we delay gives them just that greater advantage!”
Without waiting until the marshal had returned to his automobile, Nancy Drew backed her car and headed down the lefthand road. The highway was smooth, and as there was a clear stretch ahead, she drove rapidly. She realized that already the robbers had a big start, and that if once they reached Garwin she could not hope to overtake them.
“I’m sure I’m on the right trail,” she told herself. “That other road doesn’t lead anywhere in particular.”
After she had traveled several miles, Nancy became less confident. Although she had passed a number of side roads, she had kept to the main highway, and she realized that it would have been easy for the moving van to elude pursuit by taking any one of the branches.
“Still, the robbers can’t know that they are being followed,” she reasoned. “It’s likely they’ll be off their guard.”
Fifteen minutes passed, and Nancy began to fear that after all she had selected the wrong road at the fork. Presently, as she noticed a man with a team of horses approaching, she determined to question him.
“Have you seen a large moving van on this road?” she called out as she stopped the roadster alongside the wagon.
“A truck passed me about twenty minutes ago,” the farmer told her. “The big road hog tried to push me into a ditch!”
Highly elated at the information, Nancy thanked the farmer and drove on.
“At the rate I’m going I should overtake the robbers in a few minutes,” she thought. “Oh, if only I could get my hands on the Crowley clock before the police confiscate the stolen goods!”
Ten minutes passed and then another ten. As Nancy gazed anxiously down the road she could see no sign of the moving van.
“I’ve missed them somewhere,” she decided, in disappointment. “There’s nothing to do but go back.”
Nancy Drew recalled the fact that she had passed a roadhouse less than a mile back, and it occurred to her that possibly the robbers had stopped there.
“I’ll go back there and make inquiry,” she thought. “I haven’t gone by a single cross road since I talked with that farmer, so if the robbers didn’t stop at the roadhouse I can’t imagine what became of them. If they were on this road I am certain I would have passed them by this time.”
Dusk was approaching, and Nancy Drew knew that if she were ever to find the robbers it must be within the next hour. Skillfully, she turned the roadster around in the road. A few minutes of fast driving brought her within sight of the roadhouse.
The place was of disreputable appearance, and Nancy suspected that it might be a bad resort to visit. It stood back from the road a short distance, and was half-hidden by tall trees. The building was large and rambling, but rather old and sadly in need of paint. A sign on the gate read: “The Black Horse.” Beyond the inn, Nancy caught a glimpse of a garage and a large stable.
She did not enter the private driveway which led to the inn, but stopped her car at the side of the road. Before starting to walk toward the roadhouse, she hesitated.
“I don’t like to go in there, but there’s no other way,” she decided.
She walked briskly up the path, glancing about in all directions for a sign of a moving van. The door of the garage was closed as was the door of the barn, and the thought occurred to her that perhaps the robbers had parked their van inside one of the buildings.
As she drew near the inn, Nancy approached cautiously. As she stepped upon the veranda, coarse laughter reached her ears. She tiptoed to a window and peered inside. What she saw caused her to start in surprise.
In a dingy, dimly lighted room, three men were seated about a table, obviously engaged in a drinking orgy. They were the three men who had robbed the Topham bungalow!