Read Online The Clue in the Old Stagecoach by Carolyn G. Keene - Free Book Online Page A

break the windows,” Bess said, fright in her voice.
    The bruin stood up on its hind legs and sniffed the car. Then he got down and walked round and round it, grunting.
    “We’re virtually prisoners,” said George. “We might be here for days!”
    Nancy chuckled. “The bear is bound to get hungry at some time and go off looking for food.”
    “He might decide not to,” said Bess. “He’d probably find us a good meal.”
    “Don’t be silly,” George chided her cousin. “Bears like honey and green things—”
    Bess was unconvinced. “Well, even if he didn’t eat us, he could maul us to death.”
    Each time the bear had stood on its hind legs to peer inside the car, Nancy had looked intently at the fur around his neck. Finally she detected what she was looking for—a collar.
    “I believe this fellow is tame and has escaped from some place,” she said.
    George grinned. “You mean he’s lonesome and wants to crawl in here with us?” She pretended to open the door, whereupon Bess gave one of her loudest screams.
    “His master’s probably looking for him,” said Nancy. “I’ll sound the horn to attract his attention.”
    She began a series of staccato blasts and in about ten minutes the girls saw a man coming down the road. He was wearing a white shirt, riding breeches, and puttees. As he drew nearer, the bear loped up to him. He patted the animal, took a stout chain from his pocket, and slipped it into a ring on the bear’s collar. Then the two of them walked over to the car. By this time Nancy had lowered the windows.
    “I’m sorry Sally frightened you,” the man said. “She got away while I was dozing after lunch.”
    He introduced himself as Harold Henderson and said he was transporting Sally from one county fair to another. “Thanks for sounding the horn,” he said, smiling.
    Nancy grinned back. “I’m afraid we had a double reason for doing so. We need a little help ourselves.” She explained about the hole in the gas tank.
    “Well, one good turn deserves another,” Harold Henderson said. “I’ll take Sally back to the truck, lock her up so she can’t get out again, and then come back here with putty. It’ll fix up that hole temporarily. I’ll bring some gas too.”
    He started off.
    “We’re just plain lucky,” Bess remarked, as the girls sat and waited. “I hope that we’ll be as lucky finding the Zucker farm.”
    Harold Henderson returned in a little while, puttied the hole, then covered it with tire tape.
    “I’m sure that’ll hold till you get to a service station,” he said, and poured half a gallon of gasoline from a can into the tank.
    He refused to take any money from Nancy. “My help,” he said, “is a small return for your aid in recovering my bear. The loss of her would have meant many dollars out of my pocket tonight.”
    He hopped aboard the convertible and it started up the road. Nancy went very carefully, and when she reached the main road, turned right at Mr. Henderson’s direction. Soon they came to his truck where Sally sat on her haunches, looking around. She seemed very content.
    “You’ll find a service station about half a mile down this road,” Henderson said. “It’s at the junction of one of the main highways.”
    When Nancy reached the service station, the temporary work was replaced with a permanent repair job. Then the tank was filled.
    While the mechanic worked on the car, Nancy asked him if he knew anyone in the neighborhood named Zucker. “A young couple with a baby?” he queried.
    “They live on an isolated farm.”
    “They’re the ones all right,” the garageman replied. “I don’t know why they want to live back there. Ground’s full of rocks. Not many fields on it to farm. Zucker can’t make money that way.”
    Nancy asked for specific directions and was told to continue straight ahead for another half mile “Then, if you look sharp, you will see a lane. It’s just about the width of a car. The Zuckers get in and out