Nancy's Mysterious Letter Part 2

Nancy was horrified. Did the thief know this and was it the reason he had waited for a chance to steal the mail?

"Where was the letter from?" she asked. "Isn't it unusual for people to send money through the mail nowadays?"

"Indeed it is, and a very bad thing to do," the lawyer replied. "I suspect that this registered letter may have come from a client of mine, Mrs. Quigley. I take care of most of her affairs and she sends me money every so often. I've told her repeatedly to mail me only checks, but I have a hunch that she has ignored my advice again."

"Does she always send her letters to the house?" Nancy asked.

"Usually," Mr. Drew answered. "I'll call her at once and find out if-Hold the line a moment, Nancy."

She waited several seconds, then her father came back on the line. "My secretary has just buzzed me to say that Mrs. Quigley is in the outer office. I'll talk to her and call you back."

While waiting, Nancy told Bess and George about the client who insisted upon sending large amounts of money through the mail. It was not long before Mr. Drew called back.

"h.e.l.lo? Nancy? ... What I feared is true. Mrs. Quigley feels very bad about the whole thing. We are sure it was her letter that was stolen."

"Oh, Dad, this makes an embarra.s.sing situation for you, doesn't it?" Nancy queried.

"Yes, it does," her father replied. "Having my client's money stolen from my house!" Then he added, "How's Ira Nixon?"

Nancy put down the phone and hurried toward the living room, calling out, "Mrs. Gruen, my father is on the line. He wants to know how Mr. Nixon is."

"He's coming around," the housekeeper answered. "The doctor says he'll have to go to the hospital, though, for a complete checkup."

Nancy ran back to the kitchen and reported this to her father. He sighed in relief. "I'm glad the poor old man is regaining consciousness," he said. "Well, I must talk to Mrs. Quigley now. See you at dinner."

Mrs. Gruen came to tell the girls that they might return to the living room. Dr. Amundson explained that he must get back to his office immediately to see a number of patients who were waiting.

"Mrs. Gruen has kindly offered to get in touch with Mr. Nixon's regular doctor," he said. "She will ask him to make arrangements for an ambulance to come from River Heights Hospital and take Mr. Nixon there. He's recovering nicely, but he shouldn't go home yet."

Ira's physician promised to be at the hospital by the time his patient reached there. The ambulance would arrive at the Drew home in about twenty minutes. Nancy was eager to ask the carrier some questions, but realized he was in no condition to discuss his brother. "Especially one who is so mean to him," she thought.

Ira Nixon himself brought up the subject of the missing letters. "I feel better now. Guess that doctor's shot put new life into me. Sorry I can't tell you where your father's registered letter came from. I didn't notice."

Nancy asked gently, "Did you, by any chance, see the return address on the envelope to me?"

Ira Nixon closed his eyes and his brow furrowed as he tried to remember. Finally he said, "Seems to me your letter was not from one person. It was more like three names."

"A business firm," Nancy suggested.

Again the mail carrier tried hard to remember. Finally he shook his head. "It's not much hope I guess. My head's getting too old to remember things very long. But I seem to recall the first word in the name. It was-"

Nancy and the others waited expectantly. They could see Ira Nixon's lips move as if he was murmuring several names before saying one aloud. Finally a faint smile spread over his face.

"I remember now," he said. "Clear as a bell. The first word was Malmsbury."

"That's a wonderful help," Nancy told him. But she was thinking there probably were a lot of Malmsburys in London or its vicinity. It would take her a long time to find out who the sender of her mysterious letter was.

Just then the ambulance arrived and two interns came into the house with a stretcher.

Ira Nixon brushed the stretcher aside. "Long as I got two good legs, I'm gain' to walk," he insisted.

"I'm sorry, sir," one of the interns said, "but it's a hospital rule."

The letter carrier frowned. "You mean it's a law I've got to ride on that thing? What'll people think?"

The others smiled. The interns helped Ira Nixon onto the stretcher and carried him to the ambulance.

"We'll follow in my car," said Nancy.

She hurried to her car and the three girls hopped in. As soon as Ira Nixon was comfortably settled in the hospital, the girls said good-by and left. Nancy first took George, then Bess to their homes.

"What a morning!" Bess remarked as she waved good-by. "Keep us informed on what happens."

"I will," Nancy promised.

She had been in her own house only long enough to say to Hannah, "What's for lunch?" when once again the front doorbell rang. Nancy went to answer it.

A young man stood there. He introduced himself as Mr. Horace Moore, an investigative aide to the River Heights' postal inspector.

"Are you Nancy Drew?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes, I am."

The young man stared at her hard. Then he said, "Young lady, you've broken the law. You're in trouble with the authorities!"

CHAPTER III.

A Baffling Note

MR. MOORE'S accusation left Nancy speechless for a few seconds. Finally she asked him how she had broken the law.

The young man looked at her superciliously. She judged that he was not very many years older than she and his att.i.tude annoyed her. But out of respect for his position she said nothing.

"Miss Drew," he began, "you may not be aware of this, but it is against the law to invite mail carriers into your home while they are on duty."

"I see," Nancy replied. "But don't you think this case was an exception? Poor Ira Nixon had been battling the wind for a long time and he was exhausted. Anyway, he didn't bring his mailbag inside our house. He left it in this vestibule where you are standing."

"That's even worse," the aide told her. "Our carriers know the rule-they must keep their bags with them at all times. But this doesn't excuse you."

"Perhaps not," said Nancy. "I shall take the matter up with my father and he will come to your office."

Moore was not to be dismissed so easily. In a pompous manner he asked, "What does your father have to do with this?"

Nancy looked him straight in the eye. "The law says that when anyone is accused of a crime he may consult his lawyer. My father is a lawyer."

Her caller blinked. "I-I suppose you're right. When the inspector returns, I shall pa.s.s the information along to him."