Read Online The Strange Message in the Parchment by Carolyn G. Keene - Free Book Online
Authors: Carolyn G. Keene
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any kind.”
Officer Browning nodded. “You’re right. This could mean that the thief is a professional burglar who is not native to these parts. He may even be from the city.”
Junie spoke. “Then it may be very difficult to find him,” she said. “Like looking for a raindrop in a pond.”
“Not necessarily,” the officer told her. “The man could have been hired to do this job and may still be in the neighborhood, delivering it.”
He told the others that he would take the glove to the police laboratory and have it thoroughly examined.
Nancy asked, “Can you find clear fingerprints inside the glove?”
The officer shook his head. “No, because the material is textured and porous. But we may get some clue from the glove.”
He asked if anyone had touched the front door since the burglar had had his bare hand on it. No one had, so Browning said he would get a fingerprint kit from his car and try to take impressions of the newest set of fingerprints.
Although Nancy had watched fingerprint work by police many times, she never tired of looking at the process. But presently she walked outside. Her eyes picked up a clear imprint of half a shoe. Nancy hurried over to look at it, crouched down, and studied the print intently. Then she got up and looked for another. Using her flashlight, she discovered a series of similar ones for left and right feet in turn. They led across a field to a road. Here the prints ended, and Nancy assumed from tracks in the pavement dust that the thief had gone off in a car.
Nancy quickly returned to the house. By this time the officer had finished his fingerprint work. She asked him to come over and look at the shoe marks. Nancy told him she believed they belonged to the burglar.
“Since they are only of the front half of each foot, they were made by someone running.”
Officer Browning nodded. “You’re absolutely right, Miss Detective. Now tell me, what kind of shoes was the man wearing?”
“Sneakers,” Nancy responded promptly.
The State Policeman shook his head. “You sure know your stuff.” he said, “I won’t tease you any more. I’ll just continue to ask your help.”
Junie, who had been indoors, heard the last few remarks and at once told the officer that Nancy Drew had a fine reputation for solving the most difficult mysteries imaginable.
“Oh, stop bragging about me,” Nancy pleaded with her friend. She explained to the officer, “I came here to find the meaning of four paintings on the parchment that was stolen, and now it’s gone. I’ve botched the case.”
Junie said, “Officer Browning, Nancy says she might go home because she hasn’t solved the mystery. Can’t you do something to make her stay?”
The husky-looking man smiled. “I tell you what, Nancy. Suppose I find the parchment for you; then you can keep the job of solving the mystery of the paintings.”
At once Nancy’s old eagerness to win the case returned. She said, “I wish you the best of luck and try to make it soon. I can’t stay here much longer; I will wear out my welcome!”
The officer got a camera and took pictures of the footprints. Finally he stepped into his car and drove off.
Junie turned to Nancy. “Maybe, just maybe,” she said, as she locked arms with her friend and went into the house, “maybe you’ll solve both parts of this mystery yourself before the police do!”
Before the girl detective could reply, Mr. Flockhart ordered everyone back to bed. He put out the lights and followed the others upstairs.
Nancy was up early the next day, hunting for further clues to the intruder. First she searched the living room, dining room, and kitchen thoroughly. She could find nothing to indicate how the burglar had gained admittance to the house. She felt he must be a professional with a master key.
Next Nancy went outdoors and again looked at the running footsteps. Satisfied that this was the only clue outside the house, she returned indoors. The Flockharts were
Officer Browning nodded. “You’re right. This could mean that the thief is a professional burglar who is not native to these parts. He may even be from the city.”
Junie spoke. “Then it may be very difficult to find him,” she said. “Like looking for a raindrop in a pond.”
“Not necessarily,” the officer told her. “The man could have been hired to do this job and may still be in the neighborhood, delivering it.”
He told the others that he would take the glove to the police laboratory and have it thoroughly examined.
Nancy asked, “Can you find clear fingerprints inside the glove?”
The officer shook his head. “No, because the material is textured and porous. But we may get some clue from the glove.”
He asked if anyone had touched the front door since the burglar had had his bare hand on it. No one had, so Browning said he would get a fingerprint kit from his car and try to take impressions of the newest set of fingerprints.
Although Nancy had watched fingerprint work by police many times, she never tired of looking at the process. But presently she walked outside. Her eyes picked up a clear imprint of half a shoe. Nancy hurried over to look at it, crouched down, and studied the print intently. Then she got up and looked for another. Using her flashlight, she discovered a series of similar ones for left and right feet in turn. They led across a field to a road. Here the prints ended, and Nancy assumed from tracks in the pavement dust that the thief had gone off in a car.
Nancy quickly returned to the house. By this time the officer had finished his fingerprint work. She asked him to come over and look at the shoe marks. Nancy told him she believed they belonged to the burglar.
“Since they are only of the front half of each foot, they were made by someone running.”
Officer Browning nodded. “You’re absolutely right, Miss Detective. Now tell me, what kind of shoes was the man wearing?”
“Sneakers,” Nancy responded promptly.
The State Policeman shook his head. “You sure know your stuff.” he said, “I won’t tease you any more. I’ll just continue to ask your help.”
Junie, who had been indoors, heard the last few remarks and at once told the officer that Nancy Drew had a fine reputation for solving the most difficult mysteries imaginable.
“Oh, stop bragging about me,” Nancy pleaded with her friend. She explained to the officer, “I came here to find the meaning of four paintings on the parchment that was stolen, and now it’s gone. I’ve botched the case.”
Junie said, “Officer Browning, Nancy says she might go home because she hasn’t solved the mystery. Can’t you do something to make her stay?”
The husky-looking man smiled. “I tell you what, Nancy. Suppose I find the parchment for you; then you can keep the job of solving the mystery of the paintings.”
At once Nancy’s old eagerness to win the case returned. She said, “I wish you the best of luck and try to make it soon. I can’t stay here much longer; I will wear out my welcome!”
The officer got a camera and took pictures of the footprints. Finally he stepped into his car and drove off.
Junie turned to Nancy. “Maybe, just maybe,” she said, as she locked arms with her friend and went into the house, “maybe you’ll solve both parts of this mystery yourself before the police do!”
Before the girl detective could reply, Mr. Flockhart ordered everyone back to bed. He put out the lights and followed the others upstairs.
Nancy was up early the next day, hunting for further clues to the intruder. First she searched the living room, dining room, and kitchen thoroughly. She could find nothing to indicate how the burglar had gained admittance to the house. She felt he must be a professional with a master key.
Next Nancy went outdoors and again looked at the running footsteps. Satisfied that this was the only clue outside the house, she returned indoors. The Flockharts were
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