10 Password to Larkspur Lane

CHAPTER IV
Frightened Grandparents
SEVERAL quick-acting pedestrians caught
Nancy just before she hit the pavement.
“Are you hurt?” exclaimed a middle-aged
woman as she helped the girl to her feet. “I
saw that awful woman push you. Were you
trying to catch her?”
Nancy took a deep breath and said, “Yes. She
stole my purse,” then added, “I’m all right.
Thanks so much.”
Suddenly Nancy spotted the thief hurrying
into Brent’s Department Store down the

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street.
She dashed after her and hastened through the
revolving doors.
Looking around quickly, Nancy saw a flash
of pink near the bank of elevators. By the
time she reached them, the woman had gone
up in one of the cars.
Nancy darted to the nearby escalator and
rushed up, two steps at a time. On the second
floor she sped to the elevators but saw by the
indicator light that the car she wanted had
already left. The woman was not in sight.
“What luck!” Nancy murmured, darting back
to the escalator.

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A few moments later she arrived breathless
on the third floor. As Nancy looked toward
the elevator, the door was starting to close.
No one was inside. The woman she was after
must have stepped off here!
“May I help you?” asked a salesgirl. “We
have some lovely—”
“No, no!” Nancy panted. “I’m after a thief! A
woman in a pink print dress. Did you see her
get off the elevator?”
The girl’s eyes grew wide. “A thief!” she
exclaimed. “Why, yes, I did see her, but I
don’t know where she went. What did she
take?”
“My purse,” said Nancy.

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“I’ll get my supervisor,” said the salesgirl.
Nancy glanced around the third floor, where
many customers were examining racks of
dresses. Where could the woman be hiding?
“Dressing rooms,” Nancy decided. She saw
that the Fall Clothes Department had fewer
customers than the others. “I’ll start there.”
16
She hastened across the floor and peered
through an archway into a narrow aisle.
There was a row of curtained cubicles along
one wall.
Quietly Nancy peeked into the first room.
Empty! In the next a stout woman was
struggling into a tight dress. She did not see

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Nancy. Quickly the young detective moved
along the row of dressing rooms. In the fifth
room she found the thief!
The woman was leaning against the wall,
panting. Nancy’s open handbag lay on a shelf
beside her and in one hand the woman
clutched the gold-chain bracelet.
“I’ll take that!” Nancy said, stepping into the
cubicle.
The woman froze in amazement for a
moment, then swiftly seized the handbag and
hurled it at Nancy. As the girl ducked, the
contents scattered and the woman tried to
dash past.
Nancy seized her wrist and caught hold of the
bracelet.

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“Help! Thief!” she shouted.
Instantly the woman let go of the gold chain,
broke free, and raced into the corridor, with
Nancy at her heels. The thief darted through
the arch, but as Nancy reached it, two
saleswomen arrived, blocking the way.
“What happened?” one asked.
“That woman in pink!” Nancy exclaimed. “I
must stop her!” She darted around the
salesladies and ran toward the elevators.
Too late! She saw the thief board a car just
before the door closed.
How to stop her? Suddenly Nancy spotted a
store telephone behind a nearby counter. She
hurried to it and picked up the receiver.

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“Operator, this is an emergency! Ring the
phone nearest the entrance on Main Street,
please!”
In a second a voice said, “Silverware!”
“Listen carefully,” Nancy said tersely. “A
large woman in a pink print dress will
probably come rushing toward you any
minute now, heading for the door. Stop her!
She’s a thief!”
“Just a moment,” said the clerk. There was a
pause, then the speaker said, “The woman
you described passed my counter as we were
talking. I ran after her, but she hopped into a
taxi and it sped off. Shall I notify the store
detective?”
“No, thanks,” said Nancy. “It’s too late.”

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17
Disappointed, she hung up, as a voice behind
her said, “What’s going on?”
Nancy turned around. It was Mr. Mahoney,
the store manager. He was surrounded by
salesladies. One gave Nancy her handbag
with all the contents restored.
“Oh, hello, Nancy,” said Mr. Mahoney.
“What’s this about a thief in the store?”
Nancy took him aside and explained briefly.
“I don’t think the woman is an ordinary purse
snatcher. She’s probably mixed up in a case
I’m working on.”
“Well, I hope you catch her,” Mr. Mahoney
said. He waved good-by and walked off.

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Nancy examined her handbag. The strap had
been cut. “I doubt if that woman knew I had
the bracelet with me before she saw it through
the jeweler’s window.” The young detective
suspected that Adam Thorne had engaged the
thief to trail her.
“I believe she recognized the bracelet,”
Nancy told herself, “and she’ll tell Thorne
about it. I hope the old lady who owns it
doesn’t get into trouble for slipping it to Dr.
Spire.”
Deep in thought as she walked down the
street, Nancy did not see a petite, dark-haired
young woman hurrying toward her.
“Nancy! What luck to run into you!”

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“Helen Corning! Oh, I’m sorry,” Nancy said
with a grin. “I can’t get used to your being
Mrs.
Archer. How’s everything?”
“Oh, just great, except for one thing. Nancy, I
was going to call you this very afternoon.
How about solving a mystery for me?”
Seeing her friend’s look of interest, she
chuckled. “I thought that would catch you.
Could you come to my apartment tomorrow
evening at six? I’ll tell you all about it then.
Besides, Jim would love to see you.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Nancy replied, “but I
think it’s only fair to tell you I’m already
working on a mystery.”

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Helen smiled. “Then this is just one more.
You’re so clever, Nancy, I’m sure you can
solve both at once!”
Nancy laughed. “Give me a hint.”
Helen explained that her Grandmother and
Grandfather Corning had recently moved to
Sylvan Lake. “They have a dreamy stone
house on a hill. It is beautiful. But now Gram
and Gramp are afraid to stay there because of
something queer that keeps happening.”
“What is it?” Nancy asked.
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Helen glanced at her watch. “I’d love to tell
you, but I must run. See you tomorrow. We’ll

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drive out to the lake and have dinner with
Gram and Gramp. Thanks a million, Nancy!”
As Helen Archer hurried away, Nancy stood
on the sidewalk musing. “Um—another
case.”
Then she turned toward home.
When Nancy reached it, Effie opened the
front door. “I heard you drive in,” she said in
a loud whisper. “The pigeon man’s here.”
She gestured toward the living room. “He’s
very good-looking.”
“Thank you,” said Nancy, and went to greet
the caller, hoping he had not heard Effie.
A tall blond man in his twenties got up as she
entered. He introduced himself as Donald

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Jordan, secretary of the local branch of the
Pigeon Fanciers association. He showed her
his credentials.
“I’m so glad you came,” said Nancy. “Please
sit down. I’ll get the pigeon and the
message.”
Nancy hurried to the garage and saw with
relief that the bird seemed stronger.
“Oh, I hope Mr. Jordan won’t take you
away,” she murmured to the bird. “I want you
to get well enough to fly to your home loft.
Then I’ll follow you!”
Nancy carried the pigeon to the living room.
Mr. Jordan examined the bird gently, noting
especially the number on its leg band. Then

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Nancy took the message from her purse and
handed it to him.
“This is the second pigeon seen in this area
with an unregistered number,” he said. “The
other was found dead on the highway. I
mentioned it to a detective friend of mine. He
thought criminals might be using this means
of communication, thinking it safer than
telephone or telegraph or letter.”
Nancy nodded and told him she had reported
the incident to the police.
“Good. That saves us the trouble.” The
young man arose. “Well, thank you for
notifying me, Miss Drew. Now I’ll take the
bird and—”
“Oh, please don’t!” Nancy exclaimed.

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Mr. Jordan looked surprised. “Surely you
don’t want to be bothered with a sick
pigeon?”
“I don’t mind,” said Nancy. “I’d like to try to
nurse it back to health.”
The young man shook his head. “I’m afraid
there’s not much chance, but if that’s what
you want, it’s okay with me.”
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He made copies of the leg-band number and
the strange message, then wished her luck
and left. Nancy returned the pigeon to the
garage. She immediately went to Hannah
Gruen’s room to tell her about the latest
developments in the case.

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“And about time,” said the housekeeper. “I
never hear any news up here.”
“How are you feeling?” Nancy asked.
“Much better. If it wasn’t for that fussy
doctor, I’d be up and working like I should.”
Nancy laughed. “You just take it easy while
you have the chance!”
Late in the afternoon Mr. Drew called to say
that he could not be home until nine o’clock.
To keep Hannah company, Nancy and Effie
ate supper on trays in her room and afterward
watched a television play.
At the end, Effie sniffed in disappointment.
“Not enough love,” she commented. “Now
that handsome Mr. Kyle should have—”

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She stopped speaking as the front doorbell
rang. “Dad must have forgotten his key,”
Nancy remarked. “I’ll go.”
She hurried down the stairs and started to
open the door. Instinct told the young sleuth
to be cautious. She flicked the wall switch to
turn on the porch light, then opened the door
a crack. The porch was dark! Nancy thought
the bulb must have burned out.
“Dad?” Nancy called quickly.
There was no answer, but from somewhere in
the shadows came the sound of heavy
breathing.

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