Mystery of the Ivory Charm by Carolyn Keene Read Free Book Online Page B

workmanship. Some are very rare indeed. If I am not mistaken, that charm you are wearing came from India.”
    “It was given to me,” Nancy said. “I’ve been very curious about its history.”
    “May I look at it?”
    Nancy removed the charm from her neck and handed it to the professor for his inspection. He gazed at it so long without speaking that she began to feel uneasy.
    “This is an unusual charm,” he said at last in a tone that was almost reverent. “I have never seen one of better workmanship or quality. The ivory is pure, and I should judge very old. It has been carved by an expert. Nancy, you have a treasure!”

CHAPTER VIII
    Woman in a Trance
    “I HAD no idea the carving was so valuable,” Nancy said.
    “Unfortunately, I am not an ivory expert,” Professor Stackpole said with a frown. “Yet it is obvious even to one with my slight experience that this charm at one time must have belonged to a person of great wealth—probably a maharaja. At any rate, your charm is valuable and should be safeguarded.”
    “I’ll take good care of it,” Nancy promised.
    “The ancient ones are especially interesting,” Dr. Stackpole remarked. “Some of them are said to have contained precious jewels; others held a poison to be used against enemies; and some, a unique life-giving balm.”
    “How could one tell the difference in the nature of the fluid?” Nancy asked curiously.
    “The poison was dark in color, the life-giving balm of light hue. But, of course, such things belong to the past. The modern charms have no cavities.”
    Nancy had been fascinated by Professor Stackpole’s tales of India, but she did not forget the purpose of his visit. Rishi was summoned to meet the distinguished gentleman.
    The boy’s behavior was regal. Upon entering the room he joined his hands in front of him, palms together, fingers pointing upward, and bowed respectfully to the professor. Then, seating himself cross-legged upon a cushion, he conversed with the teacher in his own language. Professor Stackpole nodded approvingly from time to time.
    After the boy had been dismissed, the tutor said warmly to Nancy, “It will be a pleasure to instruct him. He is unusually bright for his years, and I feel confident that he will make quick progress with our language. His English may be faulty but in his native Hindi he speaks with poetic beauty.”
    While Hannah served tea and cakes, Nancy finally brought up the subject of payment for Professor Stackpole’s services. The gentleman named a sum so low that she felt inclined to protest.
    “I tutor only because I enjoy the work,” the professor explained. “If I had not thought Rishi could do it, I should have declined the task.”
    Before Dr. Stackpole left the house, arrangements were made for Rishi to begin his studies soon. The following day, after church, Nancy accompanied the boy to the professor’s home, where he secured a list of the books that would be required.
    “Rishi, you must study hard,” she told him earnestly. “Kind Professor Stackpole will not teach you otherwise.”
    “Rishi burn much midnight oil.” The boy smiled.
    “If you learn other things as quickly as you do American phrases, I’m sure the professor will be highly pleased.” Nancy laughed.
    In the days immediately following, Rishi delighted everyone by devoting himself to his studies with great zeal. When he was not working about the garden, he would retire to his room, where he could often be heard reciting his lessons aloud.
    The Drews were still worried about Rishi’s so-called father, Rai. Nothing had been heard from him, and the police had no inkling as to his whereabouts. Since the animal trainer had vanished, tracing him was proving to be very difficult.
    Nancy thought it might be wise in the meantime to visit the abandoned house again and see how Jasper Batt was. She also wanted to question the old caretaker about his knowledge of Mrs. Allison and Rai. Recalling her promise to Mr. Drew not