The Vanishing Thieves by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online Page A

whether or not she saw Mr. Nelson put the coin into the box?”
    Barton Laing gave Joe an indulgent smile. “It’s hardly likely an employee would recall anything about a transaction that took place so many years ago. The person on vault duty may usher as many as fifty people to their safe-deposit boxes in a single day. ”
    â€œIs the clerk still employed here?”
    â€œI have no idea,” Mr. Laing said. “But I’ll find out. ”
    Picking up his desk phone, he asked for the safe-deposit-box records to be brought to his office. A few minutes later, a young man delivered a metal file-card holder.
    â€œWant me to wait?” he asked.
    The bank president shook his head. “You can pick it up later.”
    As the clerk left, Mr. Laing began thumbing through the cards. Finally, he pulled one out.
    â€œHere it is,” he said. “Yes, she’s still working here. ”
    â€œLet’s ask her if she remembers Mr. Nelson using his box that day,” Joe suggested.
    Shrugging, the banker again picked up his phone. “I doubt that she’ll remember, but we’ll try.” Into the phone he said, “Send in the vault clerk, please.”
    After a few moments’ wait, there was a knock on the office door.
    â€œCome in,” Barton Laing called.
    The door opened and the boys gaped. Cylvia Nash stepped into the room!

8 Trapped!
    â€œWhy, hello, boys,” Cylvia said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
    â€œYou know these two?” Barton Laing asked.
    â€œThey were on the plane with me,” she explained. “In fact Joe was the one who nearly captured the hijacker.”
    â€œThey want to talk to you about Gregg Nelson’s missing coin,” the bank president said.
    â€œOh, are you the nephew?” Cylvia asked Vern. “‘That never occurred to me when we met.”
    Vern grinned. “It’s a common name.”
    â€œMiss Nash,” Barton Laing said, “You’re registered as the one who admitted Mr. Nelson to the vault eight years ago when, according to his will, he put the coin in his safe-deposit box. Do you remember that day?”
    â€œSo long ago?” She shook her head.
    â€œNo recollection at all of seeing the coin?” Joe asked.
    â€œI don’t even remember signing Mr. Nelson in.”
    Mr. Laing shrugged. “I guess that settles that,” he said. “Sorry.”
    â€œIt’s not your fault,” Vern smiled wryly. “And after all, it’s only a hundred thousand dollars.”
    As the boys walked back to the car, Joe said, “I might believe Miss Nash if we hadn’t seen who met her at the airport. But people who associate with crooks are usually crooked too. For all we know, she was the one who stole your uncle’s coin!”
    â€œI don’t see any way to find out,” Vern said.
    â€œDon’t give up so easily,” Joe advised. “We know where she lives. Maybe there’s some evidence at her apartment.”
    â€œWell, we can’t just break in!”
    â€œOf course not. But I have a plan. Let’s buy some coveralls.”
    Joe drove to a department store, where each bought a suit of work clothes. Next, they went to a hardware store and bought tool belts resembling those worn by telephone repairmen. They returned to the hotel long enough to change into their outfits and then drove to Cylvia’s home.
    They parked in front of the building, went inside, and rang the apartment manager’s bell.
    An elderly woman answered the door. Joe smiled. “Telephone company, ma‘am. The tenant in 2B reported her phone out of order.”
    â€œShe isn’t at home days,” the woman said. “I’ll have to let you in.”
    Leading the way up to the second floor, the manager opened the door of 2B with a passkey.
    â€œSet the lock when you come out,” she told them.
    â€œYes, ma‘am,” Joe