The Hidden Staircase by Carolyn Keene Read Free Book Online Page B

one of the outbuildings on the property.”
    Nancy now told about the furtive figure she had seen dart from behind a tree. “I must find out right away if he was the ghost or the guard. I’ll do a little snooping around. It’s possible the guard didn’t show up.” Nancy smiled. “But if he did, and he’s any good, he’ll find me!”
    “All right,” said Helen. “But, Nancy, do be careful. You’re really taking awful chances to solve the mystery of Twin Elms.”
    Nancy laughed softly as she walked back to the girls’ bedroom. She dressed quickly, then went downstairs, put the back-door key in her pocket, and let herself out of the house. Stealthily she went down the steps and glided to a spot back of some bushes.
    Seeing no one around, she came from behind them and ran across the lawn to a large maple tree. She stood among the shadows for several moments, then darted out toward a building which in Colonial times had been used as the kitchen.
    Halfway there, she heard a sound behind her and turned. A man stood in the shadows not ten feet away. Quick as a wink one hand flew to a holster on his hip.
    “Halt!” he commanded.

CHAPTER VIII
    A Startling Plunge
    NANCY halted as directed and stood facing the man. “Who are you?” she asked.
    “I’m a police guard, miss,” the man replied. “Just call me Patrick. And who are you?”
    Quickly Nancy explained and then asked to see his identification. He opened his coat, pulled out a leather case, and showed her his shield proving that he was a plain-clothes man. His name was Tom Patrick.
    “Have you seen anyone prowling around the grounds?” Nancy asked him.
    “Not a soul, miss. This place has been quieter than a cemetery tonight.”
    When the young sleuth told him about the furtive figure she had seen from the window, the detective laughed. “I believe you saw me,” he said. “I guess I’m not so good at hiding as I thought I was.”
    Nancy laughed lightly. “Anyway, you soon nabbed me,” she told him.
    The two chatted for several minutes. Tom Patrick told Nancy that people in Cliffwood regarded Mrs. Turnbull as being a little queer. They said that if she thought her house was haunted, it was all in line with the stories of the odd people who had lived there from time to time during the past hundred years or so.
    “Would this rumor make the property difficult to sell?” Nancy questioned the detective.
    “It certainly would.”
    Nancy said she thought the whole thing was a shame. “Mrs. Turnbull is one of the loveliest women I’ve ever met and there’s not a thing the matter with her, except that once in a while she is forgetful.”
    “You don’t think that some of these happenings we’ve heard about are just pure imagination?” Tom Patrick asked.
    “No, I don’t.”
    Nancy now told him about the owl in Miss Flora’s bedroom. “The door was locked, every screen was fastened, and the damper in the chimney closed. You tell me how the owl got in there.”
    Tom Patrick’s eyes opened wide. “You say this happened only a little while ago?” he queried. When Nancy nodded, he added, “Of course I can’t be everywhere on these grounds at once, but I’ve been round and round the building. I’ve never stopped walking since I arrived. I don’t see how anyone could have gotten inside that mansion without my seeing him.”
    “I’ll tell you my theory,” said Nancy. “I believe there’s a secret underground entrance from some other place on the grounds. It may be in one of these outbuildings. Anyway, tomorrow morning I’m going on a search for it.”
    “Well, I wish you luck,” Tom Patrick said. “And if anything happens during the night, I’ll let you know.”
    Nancy pointed to a window on the second floor. “That’s my room,” she said. “If you don’t have a chance to use the door knocker, just throw a stone up against the screen to alert me. I’ll wake up instantly, I know.”
    The guard promised to do this and Nancy went back into