The Secret in the Old Attic by Carolyn Keene Read Free Book Online Page B

in the attic. I’m sure Fipp didn’t have them. The old melodies had been hummed to him so many times he knew them by heart.”
    The clue was sufficient to start Nancy on another intensive search. As soon as she washed the dishes, Nancy put the new battery in her flashlight and went to the attic. She began poking around in boxes. One of these was filled with interesting newspapers, some of which dated back a hundred years.
    “I’m reading more than I’m working,” the young detective scolded herself with a laugh. “I’d better get on with the hunt.”
    Going hurriedly through the remaining papers, Nancy came at last to the bottom of the box. Her gaze fastened upon a ribbon-tied roll of parchment.
    “This may be the very thing I’m after!” she thought excitedly.
    Unwrapping it, she discovered the sheet contained the music and words of a song! She hummed the first few bars. They were not familiar.
    She started to investigate another box which stood nearby. As Nancy eagerly plunged her hand down, something sharp buried itself in her finger. With a sinking heart Nancy wondered if she might have been poisoned the way Effie had been!
    Gingerly she pushed aside the papers, looking for a black widow spider. Then Nancy laughed as she saw what had pricked her finger. Men’s antique shoe buckles!
    “What gorgeous ones!” she thought, lifting out several pairs of the old silver ornaments. They were studded with semiprecious stones, one of which had a sharp prong on it.
    Nancy was happy over the find. The buckles would bring a nice sum of money for Mr. March. After wrapping them carefully in paper, she put the buckles in her pocket.
    At that instant the flashlight which Nancy had laid on the floor rolled away and clicked off. As she leaned forward to pick it up, something landed with a soft thud against her hand.
    Out of nowhere floated a few eerie notes of music like the faint strumming of a harp.

CHAPTER VIII
    The Strange Secret
     
     
     
    NANCY, in the pitch-black attic, kept perfectly still. She hardly breathed. Chills ran up and down her spine.
    The music had ceased, but from nearby came the sounds of stealthy footsteps. These were followed by muffled rapping sounds.
    “There isn’t a harp or a piano here,” Nancy told herself, trying to regain her composure. “Maybe this is just a trick to keep people out of the attic.”
    The rapping had stopped now. Nancy reached again for the flashlight. This time she found it, but to her dismay it would not light.
    “The store clerk must have sold me a defective battery,” Nancy said to herself, frowning.
    She was too far from the stairway to get there safely in the dark among the maze of boxes and trunks.
    “What am I going to do?” Nancy thought.
    Suddenly she heard her name murmured. “Naa-ancy! Na-a-ancy!”
    “It must be Mr. March,” she concluded as the call became louder. “Thank goodness. Now there’ll be a light.”
    She stood up, then froze to the spot as a new thought struck her. If someone really were in the attic, he might harm anyone coming up the steps! Summoning all her courage, Nancy called out loudly:
    “I’m in the attic. Don’t come up! Just hold a light for me at the foot of the stairs!”
    Nancy had expected a hand to be clapped over her mouth, but nothing happened. In relief she called out again, saying her flashlight was not working.
    A few seconds later a light shone up the stairway. Mr. March was speaking to her cheerily.
    Nancy gingerly found her way across the attic. Soon she was back on the second floor. Mr. March took hold of her arm.
    “You’re white as a sheet,” he said. “Something happened. What was it?”
    “Did anyone touch the piano downstairs?” she asked.
    “The piano? No. Why?”
    “I thought I heard a few notes of music,” Nancy replied.
    “You’re not telling me all you know,” the elderly man said. “I want to hear everything. Don’t keep anything back.”
    “I’m afraid somebody or something is in the