Nancy Drew | Part 4 of 10 | Mystery Sleep Story

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Welcome to send me to sleep.

The place to find a relaxing stories for a good night's rest. My name's Andrew, thanks for joining me. Tonight I'll be reading Nancy Drew and the secrets of the old clock by Carolyn Keen. Chapters 8 and 9. In the previous chapters, Nancy had set up a conference with the two horn assistors and

“her father to see if they could discover more about the secret missing will.”

Other than the fact that Yzahia claimed to have made one, it learned very little.

Later on, however, Nancy had overheard a conversation with Yzahia and Aida, confirming that

the will had not yet been found, at least relieving her suspicion that it may have been destroyed. Then, with an inspiration to search for some of Yzahia's other relatives, she set out back to the farm of the horn assistors for more information. Before we begin tonight's story, let's get ourselves ready for sleep.

Start by taking a deep, relaxing breath.

“And settle your body and whatever way feels most comfortable.”

Now let any thoughts of the day drift away from your mind and simply follow the sound of my voice, so let your eyes form heavy, and your breath soften. As we settle in, for a peaceful night's sleep. Chapter eight, a discouraging day. After leaving her father's office, Nancy drew and went directly home.

Quickly, back in her room to stir from the garage, she set off down the river road, in the direction of the old farm where the horn girls lived. Before leaving the main highway, Nancy glanced and chesely at the sky, and was relieved that no clouds were visible. After my last experience, I don't intend to get caught in another storm, she had

monitored herself. The recent rain had made the roads rough, and Nancy bumped about in the roads to rather uncomfortably. At last, however, she came within sight of the farmhouse, and as she viewed it from a distance, noticed that it was even older and more ran down than she had previously thought.

The house was large and rambling, but apparently it had not been painted in years. Engels were falling from the roof, and the porch sagged. As Nancy's eyes travelled to the old bone, she wondered how it had managed to survive the recent storm. If Ali and Grace horn only had money, they could make the place attractive, she thought,

as she drove through the open gate. Walking chickens fled before her, as she stopped the roadster in the barnyard and switched off the engine. Springing lightly from the car, she ran up the walk towards the house.

Receiving no response, she went around to the front of the house, and knocked on another

door. There was no answer, nor did a tour of the yard reveal either of the horn or girls. Disappointment took possession of Nancy, she had driven nearly 15 miles and later found no one at home, and defeated at every turn, she thought, disconsolely, as she slowly walked back to the roadster.

It's certainly discouraging.

“Hello there, I've always called, were you looking for us?”

The shouted greeting reached Nancy, as she prepared to step into the roomster. One foot on the running board, she turned her head, and saw the horn a girls, hurling

towards her from the direction of the barn.

Early did not wait for her sister to open the barnyard gate, but swinging easily over it, ran to meet Nancy. We saw you, just as you were leaving the house, she cried enthusiastically. We wouldn't have missed you for anything. We were picking berries in the woods, grace explained, as she hurried up, slightly out

of bread. Proudly, she displayed a tin pale, which was filled nearly to the brim with raspberries. But look at our arms, and any laughed ruthlessly as she glanced down at the ugly scratches, which had been caused by brambles and sharp thorns.

“You must come into the house and have a dish of berries, Nancy, grace urged hospitably.”

They are good with sugar and cream. If you don't have them too often, early added, I can stop but a minute, Nancy declared as the three entered the house, and I came to talk about the will. Oh, then you have good news for us, early asked, hopefully. Are we really going to get some of the money?

I don't know yet, Nancy was forced to admit. So far, I haven't been able to learn a thing about this thing well. And his face fell, but she tried to hide her disappointment. We need the money so badly, she said, with an apologetic smile. Grace hasn't had a new dress in three years.

She makes all of our clothing out of all things we happen to have in the house.

“If our luck doesn't change soon, I'm afraid we'll be mistaken for rag pickers.”

We really didn't expect much of unclean-yaza's money, grace broken quickly. Less Nancy misinterpret her sister's remarks. We weren't related, you know. Well, you can hardly say the top of us were, for that matter, early declared.

They were third or fourth cousins.

We can get along without the money, grace said quietly. We managed very well when I have plenty of work. We're a little discouraged right now, because dress making has fallen off. It's a slack season. I guess people would rather go to the store and buy a dress ready made.

I wouldn't, Nancy declared impulsively. Grace, I'd like to engage you to make me a dress. Will you do it? I'll pay you well. Tears of joy came into grace's eyes.

Will I? Oh, you don't know how great for I am for the work. I haven't had anything to do for nearly three months. I don't mind poverty so much for myself, but for Ali, a voice broke. I promised mother I'd look after her.

Ali's brain from her chair and rushed to her sister. She flung her arms affectionately about her. Oh, Grace, I shouldn't have said what I did about needing money. I didn't mean it, truly I didn't. But it's the truth.

We'll get along, Grace. If only my chicken money came in faster, why can't a hen lay more than one egg a day?

Nancy took up the conversation. I'll bring the dress material with me the next time I come this way. She did not need a new dress, but she realized that there was no other way to help the horner girls for they were too proud to accept money. And now I want to ask you a few more questions about Gizara Crowley, Nancy told them.

“Do you know whether he ever visited other relatives besides the topants?”

Oh, yes, Ali returned promptly. He was only distantly related to the topants, you know.

There were third cousins I believe.

He had a number of other relatives whom he frequently visited. Before he went to live with the topants, they took turns keeping him, Grace informed her visitor. Can you tell me the names of these relatives? Let me see, Grace lost herself in thought, there are two cousins living in Masonville.

Matilda and Edna Turner, Ali prompted her, their regular own maid, but all from nice, they

“were wonderful to uncle Gizara when he was alive.”

Then there were two nephews, Grace went on, William and Fred Matthews, they have a farm on

this same river road, everyone thought they would get something.

How far do they live from here, Nancy and Clyde? Oh, not more than five miles, you could drive there in a few minutes, it's on the way to Masonville. Then, I'll be able to make two calls on the same trip, Nancy announced, as she arose to depart.

I must hurry along now, or it will be too late for me to stop there this afternoon. I'm hoping that by talking with the relatives, I may learn something which will help us to trace the missing will.

“And afraid there's not much chance we'll ever get anything, Grace said rather merosely.”

The top ones will never let the money slip out of their hands.

If we find the will, they won't be able to keep the money, Nancy declared, father will see to it that you girls get your dress to do. Oh, Grace, we forgot to tell Nancy about Abigail Rowan, Ali reminded her sister. She'd be apt to know more about the will than anyone else. That's right, you really should call on her, Nancy.

She took care of Uncle Azar one time when he was sick, and he thought the world of her. He often declared he intended to leave her something. Even a few hundred dollars would have meant so much to her, Ali added. Abigail is old and feeble now, she must be more than 70 years of age, and there's no one to look after her.

Where shall I find her, Nancy asked quickly. She lives over on the west lake roomed, Grace responded. It's a good many miles from here. You could make a great sum of the farmhouses along the road. I won't have time to go there today, but I'll surely call upon her as soon as I can.

As now, I must be going, or it will be dark long before I get back to River Heights. Nancy said goodbye hastily. The whole of girls accompanied her to the roadster and watched her drive away. As she looked back from the corner, they waved their handkerchiefs. Like your girls, Nancy thought, until today, I didn't realise how terribly they need help.

I simply must find a way to help them. She drove along the river road, heading in the direction of Masonville. Although it was growing late, Nancy whilst determined to visit the Matthews brothers, and if possible, material there and dead in a turn. After she'd gone perhaps five miles, she began to watch the male boxes, and presently noticed

The farmhouse was set back a short distance from the road, and Nancy drove the road

to down a narrow lane which led to it.

“As she stopped to the car, a man came out of the house,”

and regarded her questioningly, learning that the farm was William Matthews, and she quickly explained her mission. At first, a man was inclined to distrust her, but after he had made certain that she was not a friend of Richard Topham, he talked frankly of his eye crowning and told all that he knew concerning the will.

My brother and I have filed a complaint with the proper authority said the court house he explained.

"We feel certain there must have been another will, because uncle's eye always said

that he intended to leave us something." "Did you actually see the will?" Nancy questioned, hopefully. The farmer shook his head.

“"No, my brother and I haven't the proof that he ever made a second will, but we do know”

that he never had any particular laugh for the Tophams. He felt they took him in only because they were after his money, and I guess he wasn't wrong at that. Anyway, I am certain he had made up his mind to cut them off without a send. Perhaps he neglected to write the second will.

That wouldn't be like uncle's eye.

It was rather strange about little things, but he was always particular in attending to business

matters. "No, I'm more apt to think he made the will, and hid it somewhere. You have no idea where he could have concealed it. Not in the slightest, Miss. My brother and I will be glad to offer a substantial reward to anyone who can produce it."

Nancy asked a number of questions, "Mouth the farmer was unable to furnish information, which was of any value." "This appointed, she thanked the man for his troubles, and continued all my way to Masonville." "Ruma, Ruma, she said, "That's all I hear, and my next stop, I hope I'll acquire a few facts."

Upon reaching Masonville, Nancy made inquiry, it was directed to the home of the Turner sisters. They lived alone at the outskirts of the city, although not in poverty, they did not have any more money than they needed. Nancy found them at home, and when they learned the purpose of her visit, they greeted her cordially.

They were very pleasant ladies, and she spent nearly an hour at their home. But although they answered her questions willingly, she learned nothing which had a direct bearing on the missing will. Matilda and Ed Natana insisted that desire Crowley had intended to disinherit the topms, but they had no idea what could have become of the later will.

They had been led to expect a small inheritance, the would disappointed that everything was going to the topms.

“"Why didn't you talk with Abigail Rowan, Natilda suggested that the conclusion of the interview?”

She took care of his eye once when he was sick, and he thought a lot of her. He knew more about his strange ways than any other living person. I don't believe it would do a particle of good, Ed Natana in the post. Abigail is getting along many years, and her memory isn't what it used to be. It was after dark when at last Nancy took leave of the Turner sisters and headed her

ownster towards home. She was tired and hungry as well as discouraged. So far I've only wasted my time, she thought despondently. I'm no closer to finding the will, than I ever was, and I'm sure there is one. I've often heard father say that no real mystery is solved without a lot of hard work, that

I'm ready to believe it. In the exception of Abigail Rowan, Nancy had called upon all the Crowley relatives. From what the Turner sisters had told her, she was down from but a visit to her cottage would be worthwhile. "Oh well, I suppose I may as well go there tomorrow, Nancy decided, after a mental debate.

Chapter 9 Vital Information

This must be the house.

“It certainly fits the description given me.”

As she spoke, Nancy drew him paused before a square, one story frame building, which stood dejectedly in the centre of a yard, overgrown with weeds and dandelions. The cottage was sadly in need of paint and pickets were missing from the sagging fence which enclosed it. A boardwalk which led to the front porch had begun to rock away and offered treacherous

footing. The place looks deserted, but I'm sure Abigail Rowan must live here, Nancy

assured herself as she made her way up the walk, gingerly avoiding loose boards which

threatened to fly up at her. Early that morning she had left with a high, sinhuff final quest for information concerning the Crowley will. Nancy did not know exactly where Abigail Rowan lived, but she had taken the west lake road and made him grow along the way.

“The cables had assured her that she could not miss the place as it was the most run down”

house along the road. If Abigail can't help me, I'm at the end of my string, Nancy thought, as she wrapped on the front door.

There was no response to her nog and she wrapped a second time.

She was about to turn away in disappointment when a slight noise within the house attracted her attention. She was certain her app had been heard. "Who's there? A muffled voice called.

If you're a peggler, I don't want anything." "I'm not a peggler, Nancy called out reassuringly. Won't you let me in, please?"

“There was a long silence, and then the quavering voice replied,”

"I can't open the door. I've hurt myself and can't walk." Nancy hesitated an instant and pushed open the door. As she stepped into the dreary living room, she saw the pitiful figure on the couch. Abigail Rowan lay her thought under a ragged old shawl, a withered face drawn with pain.

"I am Nancy, Drew, and I've come to help you, Miss Rowan. At the word, the old lady turned her head and regarded Nancy with a stare which was almost a child like, "You've come to help me," she repeated unbelievingly. "I didn't think anyone would ever trouble themselves about all that began again." "Here, let me arrange the pillows for you."

"Gently, Nancy moved the old woman into a more comfortable position." "Yes, today, I fell down the cellar stairs, Abigail explained. I hurt my hip and sprained my ankle. I can't take a step without it nearly killing me." "Haven't you had a doctor?" Nancy asked in a storage window.

"There ain't a song being near me," Abigail said. "I've just laid here on my bed and wondered how soon the end would come, and getting along in years now, and it won't be long." "None since, Nancy protested bristly, for she saw that the old lady's trouble had made her morose.

You have a good many happy years yet before you. "Can you walk at all? Are you certain your hip isn't broken?" "I couldn't walk a little, but it hurt something awful when I do. Then your hip isn't broken, Nancy said in relief.

"Let me see your ankle. Why? You don't even have it wrapped up. Where are the bandages? I'll fix it for you."

"There's a white rag in the closet in the kitchen, Abigail told her, "Nancy shook her head sternly." "A rag won't do. You have a bad spring and it must be taken care of properly.

I can't afford it, Abigail murmured, "Let me pay for it, Nancy begged."

“Abigail shook her head sternly, "I'll not take charity, but rather die in my bed."”

"Well, if you're set on not having a doctor, I'm going to the nearest drug store to get bandages, and a number of other things, Nancy insisted." "But before I go, I'll make you a cup of tea." "Poor ain't any tea in the house. Then I'll get some.

What else do you need?" I need most everything, and I can't afford to pay for it.

You might get me some tea, and the loaf of bread.

That's enough. You'll find the money in a jar in the cupboard.

“It's not very much, but it's all I have.”

I'll be back in a few minutes, Nancy promised. She stopped in the kitchen long enough to examine the cupboard, as she had suspected, they were practically empty. With the exception of a little flower and sugar, and a cheap old can of soup, there appeared to be nothing in the house to eat.

Nancy discovered the money jar, but an investigation revealed that it contained less than $5. "It's probably every scent poor Abigail has in the world," she thought. "Nancy did not take any money from the jar, but quietly slipped out the back door. Howling into the roadster, which he had left at the roadside, she drove to the nearest

“door, and ordered nearly $10 worth of groceries.”

She wished that she might take a dunk to back with her, but she realized that Abigail was set in her ways, and would not accept the service since she could not pay for it." Before she returned to the cottage, Nancy stopped at the drugstore and purchased bandages and linements. The carried the supplies into the house, and quickly set about making Abigail more comfortable.

She bathed the song and ankle, and mound it neatly with the clean bandage. It feels better already, Abigail told her gratefully, "I don't know what I'd had done if you hadn't come when you did." As soon as she attended to the woman's immediate need, Nancy built a fire in the kitchen range and put on a tea kettle.

While she was waiting for the water to boil, she raised the drawn shades and permitted the warm sunshine to flood into the room. While she did this, she told Abigail rowing something about herself. After the tea had steeped, she poured Abigail a cup and urged her to eat the nourishing meals she had prepared.

She was gratified to observe, almost immediately, the old woman became more cheerful and seemed to gain strength. She had sat up on the couch and appeared eager to talk with Nancy. There ain't many folks that are willing to help on all the woman. If his eye crowly had lived, things would have been different, she declared.

It strange that he didn't provide for you in his will, and sir applied quietly. She did not wish to excite the old woman by telling her real mission, yet she was eager to find out what Abigail knew about the missing will. He hoped that she might lead her tactfully into a discussion of Josiah Crown is affairs,

without raising hopes which might never be realised.

Its my opinion that Josiah did provide for me, Miss Rowan returned impressively. Many a time he said to me, "Abby girl, you'll never need to worry. And I'm gone, you'll be well taken care of by my will, and then everything was left to the topms, Nancy encouraged her to proceed. That was according to the first will, but there was another one, and I don't know what

became of it. They you saw there was another will, Nancy inquired, almost too eagerly, for Abigail looked at her rather sharply.

You saw it, Nancy gasped, the old woman nodded gravely, and I didn't see what was in

the will, one day as I came in where I was sitting in my rocking chair, right off I noticed he had a piece of paper in his hand. "Abby girl," he said, "I've made my will, I've found them lawyers and wrote it myself. How long ago was that, Nancy asked quickly? Let me see, Abigail frowned thoughtfully.

"No, I can't remember the exact date.

It was about the time you as I went to live with Richard and Cora. "Well, to go on with what I was saying, when you as I showed me the will, he seemed mighty tickled about it, mind he didn't show me what was inside, but he hinted that he'd done well by me.

“"But as I said to him, are you sure it's legal to write it yourself?”

Of course it is, he said to me, a lawyer told me it was all right, just so long as I had it witnessed. Do you know who witnessed the will, Nancy broken? "No, I didn't ask him, and he didn't say, he just went out of the room, chuckling in that funny way he had.

Haven't you any idea what became of the will, Nancy asked, hopefully? I reckon he hid it somewhere, that would be just like his eye. "But I remember he did say something about putting it, when nobody can get it, unless they have legal authority. So I didn't know what became of it, for all I know he may have turned it over to a lawyer.

“"Are you certain that was all he said, Nancy and quiet gently?”

She knew that Abigail had grown rather childish, and that their memory was failing. It seems to me he did say something about what he was going to do with that will, but I can't just recollect, Abigail shook her head and sighed. Many a night I've laid awake, just trying to think what it was. It seemed to Nancy that a victory was almost within her grasp, it had been snatched from

her, undoubtedly Abigail went and held the secret of the Crowley will locked in her brain,

and it was equally unlikely that she would never be able to recall the vital information,

unless in some unusual way a memory was given a particular stimulus.

“Try to think, Nancy begged, I can't remember Abigail murmured hopelessly, I've tried”

and tried, she leaned against the cushion, closed her eyes as though the effort had exhausted her. At that very moment, the clock on the mantle chined three, Abigail ruins eyes fluttered open, and an old expression passed over her face, for an instant she stared straight before her, and then slowly turned her head and fastened her eyes on the clock.

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