way to a fervent fit of wailing that made her traveling companions jump back in alarm.
The four girls accompanying her on the trip looked at each other in bewilderment. Just minutes before, Nancy had been leading the group in a merry sing-along, and now she was writhing on the hood of her 1959 canary yellow Chrysler convertible, tears streaming down her pretty face.
They had just finished a rousing round of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” when the car had hit a rather large rock and made the most awful clanking noise before rolling to a dead stop at the side of the road. And just when they had almost reached Pocatello, Idaho, where they’d planned to stop for a nice supper before driving across the border to the majestic mountain state of Wyoming.
Nurse Cherry Aimless, Nancy’s close chum and a native Idahoan, had warned them to use caution while traversing the roadways of eastern Idaho, but the five girls had been so engrossed in their own amusements, they had become careless. Cherry scolded herself for not paying closer attention. She knew from her many experiences during family car trips to keep an eye out for the rocky road ahead. Now, just hours into their trip, their automobile was damaged, perhaps beyond repair!
“And Nancy’s on the verge of hysteria,” Cherry noted with her keen nurse’s eye. “Not only that, she’s in danger of becoming downright mussed,” she thought in alarm.
Under normal circumstances, Nancy Clue, who had solved enough baffling mysteries to earn a well-deserved reputation as a first-rate sleuth, was the model of feminine decorum. She was accustomed to keeping a cool head while solving cases that baffled even the professionals, and emerged from every escapade with nary a hair out of place. For Nancy was as well known for her attractive hairstyles as she was for her ability to remain unruffled during the most trying circumstances.
But now the young sleuth was facing one of the most hair-raising experiences of her life.
Nancy was headed home to River Depths, Illinois, to confess to the murder of her father, prominent attorney Carson Clue, who had been found shot to death eleven days earlier in the tidy kitchen of his comfortable, three-story suburban brick house!
“I must get home and expose the terrible truth about my father, and free Hannah!” Nancy cried through her tears. She pummeled the hood of the fancy car with her small fists. “I … simply … must … get … home!”
The Clues’ longtime housekeeper, Hannah Gruel, had insisted on selflessly shouldering the blame for the death of Mr. Clue in order that Nancy might remain free, and so had confessed to shooting the popular attorney during a domestic dispute.
“I told that man time and time again to stay out of my kitchen while I was baking,” Hannah had declared as she was led away in handcuffs to the River Depths jail. There she remained, awaiting trial for murder, due to begin in just over two days’ time.
It was only because Nancy had been in such a state of shock after the shooting that she had agreed to Hannah’s scheme. At the housekeeper’s urging, she had headed for faraway San Francisco to start a new life. Once there, Nancy had been drawn into the exciting mystery of The Case of the Not-So-Nice Nurse, where she had become fast friends with the four girls who were now standing back helplessly as their new chum took out her frustrations on her nifty automobile. This fascinating case, which had started in San Francisco and led the girls to a dark dungeon outside the city, had ended on a happy note. Using just their wits and a pair of handy handcuffs, the five chums had managed to escape from their captors—a group of nefarious clergymen—free a convent of kidnapped nuns, and outwit the evil priest who had masterminded the devious plot to murder the nuns and steal their land.
Luckily, the five chums had been quickly exonerated in the priest’s subsequent death, and it was then Nancy had decided to go back home and set the record straight about what had really happened in the three-story, Colonial style brick house at 36 Maple Street. The startling news that Hannah had suffered a heart attack in prison had made Nancy even more determined to get home as quickly as possible, for Nancy was terribly afraid that Hannah’s weakened heart wouldn’t survive the strain of a courtroom drama.
“If only I hadn’t agreed to this scheme, perhaps Hannah wouldn’t have become ill,” she admonished herself over and over again, until she was sick with worry. She would do anything to get Hannah out of jail, even if it meant telling her terrible secret to all of River Depths!
Nancy was positive that once people heard the truth about her father, she would immediately be cleared of any wrongdoing in his death. “Once they hear how truly dreadful he was, there will be no question but that I did the right thing; the only thing I could have possibly done!” she had assured her companions. When her chums expressed their fear that she might be charged with murder, Nancy confidently brushed aside their doubts
“Any sensible person will certainly understand that I had to shoot Father,” she assured them. “Besides, everyone in River Depths knows I never lie. Why, Police Chief Chumley, who has called on me many times to help solve particularly baffling cases, has declared that he trusts me as much as anyone under his command.”
If truth be told, Nancy was one of River Depths’ most important girl citizens. Tales of her exciting adventures were reported by newspapers everywhere, and the young sleuth was recognized wherever she went for her keen logic, upstanding behavior, and attractive outfits. Why, just the year before, Nancy had received the coveted River Depths Outstanding Girl Award. True to her modest nature, she had been surprised and flattered by the accolade, and had promptly donated the twenty-five dollars in cash that had accompanied the bronze plaque to the River Depths Home for Troubled Girls, a worthwhile institution Nancy had visited on many occasions on missions of charity.
She assured her friends that in River Depths her word was as good as gold. “Besides, I have irrefutable evidence that proves my father’s crime,” she had told her worried chums, adding, in a confident tone, “Not that I’ll need it!” Safely hidden away in the secret bottom drawer of her hope chest at home were documents that would prove her father’s guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt—letters written in Carson Clue’s own hand. Once authorities saw this evidence, Nancy was sure she would instantly be absolved of any wrongdoing in his death!
“Little good that evidence does me here, though,” Nancy groaned. “I may as well be a million miles away,” she thought glumly as she slid off the hood of the car, not even caring that her travel outfit was now wrinkled beyond repair. “At the rate we’re going, Hannah will have been tried and convicted already by the time we get there. Or worse! I’ll never forgive myself if Hannah dies a murderess!” Nancy wailed. “Never!”
She fumbled through her summer straw handbag for one of the starched, white monogrammed handkerchiefs she always kept on hand. She discovered, with dismay, that she had run out of clean hankies!
“Could things get any worse?” Nancy wailed as she threw up her hands in despair. She jumped up and ran screaming from the car.
She didn’t know where she was headed, and, frankly, she didn’t care!
Cherry rushed after her distraught chum, a fresh hankie in one hand and her stainless steel travel thermos in the other. Cherry had thoughtfully purchased the sturdy, practical thermos earlier that day.
“A cool cup of water is just the ticket when dealing with emotional flare-ups,” she thought cheerfully.
Cherry knew that water, along with the right amount of rest and plenty of tasty, nutritious food, was an essential component to good health. So, unfortunately, was peace of mind—something Nancy hadn’t had in a very long time.