Password to Larkspur Lane by Carolyn Keene Read Free Book Online

pink bow to keep it in place, gazed skyward. “There he goes!”
    The pigeon was flying low along the street in front of the house. Nancy started the motor and began to follow slowly.
    “I don’t think this will work,” Effie said, “because we have to stay on the streets and the pigeon can fly in any direction.”
    “Maybe you’re right,” Nancy said grimly, “but we’re going to try!”
    “He’s turning left,” Effie announced. Quickly Nancy turned left onto a side street and followed the bird until it veered again.
    “Lucky he’s flying low and slow,” said Effie.
    Now and then the bird fluttered to a rest on a roof or tree branch, but the girls managed to track it until they had reached open country beyond the suburbs of River Heights.
    “My neck is stiff from watching,” Effie said with a sigh. “Where’s he going, anyway?”
    “Home to its owner,” Nancy replied. “Where is it now?”
    “He went that way,” said Effie, pointing across a field, “but I can’t see him because of those trees.”
    “Oh, we mustn’t lose it!” Nancy exclaimed. She stopped the car and scanned the sky.
    Effie gulped. “I’m sorry. I can’t see him. Oh, I could cry!”
    “Well, don’t,” Nancy commanded. “That pigeon is one of my best clues. I must find it!”
    Suddenly she spotted the large gray bird flying out of the dump of trees. “There he goes!” Nancy exclaimed.
    Luckily the pigeon flew parallel to the road and Nancy drove along behind it.
    “Please watch the bird, Effie,” Nancy implored as her companion looked away.
    “I’m not even blinking both eyes at once,” Effie assured her. “I blink one eye at a time.” After a mile, Effie suddenly pointed to a grove of elms that towered over the flat fields. “Look! He’s going round and round over those trees. I think he’s dizzy.”
    “No,” Nancy said, and felt a quiver of excitement. “That’s where it lives. I see buildings in the grove.” A second later the pigeon disappeared among the trees.
    Nancy halted the car beside a stone wall over which honeysuckle tumbled. A short distance ahead was a driveway.
    “Listen, Effie,” Nancy said firmly, “we are going in there and you are not to say a word about our keeping the pigeon or following it here.”
    Effie’s eyes were wide. “Is there a gang of kidnappers in there?” she asked timidly.
    “I don’t know who’s there,” Nancy replied. “But we must be prepared for anything.” Then, seeing that Effie was trembling, she said, “Would you rather wait here?”
    “Oh, no! I don’t want to stay alone! But maybe I—I could hide in the trunk.”
    They got out of the car and Effie scrambled into the luggage compartment. She left the lid open an inch so there would be fresh air.
    Nancy slipped behind the wheel again and turned off the little-used, sandy road onto a well-kept gravel driveway. It swept in a great curve toward a long rambling white house.
    Nancy drove nearly a quarter of a mile. Then the path dipped under the trees, and Nancy saw that the house was a mansion. Whoever occupied it must be very wealthy. White columns supported the overhanging roof of a porte-cochère.
    The young sleuth did not stop there, but headed toward the outbuildings, to the far right of it. She pulled up in front of a stable.
    Quietly Nancy got out of the car. Her sweeping glance took in a nearby shed and a large coop beside it containing a number of pigeons. On the roof rested the pigeon Nancy had been following.
    The yard was empty. Except for the cooing and flutterings of the birds, the place was silent. Was it deserted? Nancy wondered.
    Suddenly she was startled by a noise that sounded like a pistol shot. She whirled. In the shadow of the stable doorway stood a dark, thin-faced man wearing a riding habit. He carried a long, knotted, leather whip which he cracked again.
    With an unpleasant grin, he said, “Scared you, didn’t I?”
    Keeping her voice cool and even, Nancy said, “Good