Free (#26) The Clue of the Leaning Chimney by Carolyn Keene Page B

him. “I wish we could climb over.”
    “At least we can look over,” said Ned, pointing to a stout tree limb lying on the ground. “If you’ll help me, we can prop this against the fence for a ladder, Nancy.”
    Together they lugged the limb across the clearing and lifted it against the fence.
    “You go up while I hold it,” Ned suggested.
    Nancy placed her hands around the bough and, monkey-fashion, started up.
    “What do you see?” Ned asked as she reached the top.
    “Not much. Trees. Lots of them.” She scampered down. “But we’re not far from the leaning chimney. Let’s go over there and take a look.”
    Ned willingly dragged the tree limb the short distance and Nancy climbed up again. Below her was the rectangular enclosure, a stone wall, and the battered brick building she had seen some days before through a knothole.
    Glancing up, Nancy was startled to find that the rusted ornament on the leaning chimney was gone. She looked at the ground below, thinking the symbol had dropped off. It was not there.
    “Say, what’s so interesting?” Ned called up.
    “Come on up.”
    Nancy told him about the missing ornament, and also Bess’s declaration that she had seen a hand sticking from the chimney. Maybe someone had climbed up inside, planning to remove the iron coat of arms, or whatever it was.
    “This place gets more mysterious every day,” Nancy remarked.
    “It’s funny there’s no sign of life around, though,” Ned commented. “You’d think somebody—”
    He stopped speaking as they heard a far-off cry. Again it sounded like bong, and again it was impossible to tell whether the call of distress had come from inside the enclosure.
    Almost simultaneously with the cry came the menacing crack of rotted wood.
    “The tree limb!” Nancy cried. Nancy and Ned scurried down just as the old limb split.
    Ned helped Nancy to her feet. “No more sleuthing today,” he insisted. “Anyway, I can just about make that wedding rehearsal in time.”
    Nancy hated to leave so soon but said nothing. They trekked back to the car and Ned drove to his home in Mapleton, a suburb of River Heights.
    “See you tomorrow afternoon at the wedding,” he said, getting out. “And don’t let any other usher take you up the aisle!”
    Nancy laughingly promised. Then, as she drove on to River Heights, her thoughts turned again to the enclosure in the woods. Both leads which Miles Monroe had given her, the one to the old iron mine and the directions along Hunter’s Creek, had led to the strange spot in the woods.
    Was the China clay inside? Did the owner know about it? Nancy set her chin in determination. She would find out! And soon!
    Hannah Gruen met her at the rear door of the Drew home, her kindly face lined with worry.
    “What’s wrong?” Nancy asked quickly.
    “Oh, Nancy, Mr. Soong has been phoning you for the past half hour! He’s terribly upset! He’s at police headquarters!”
    “What for?”
    “I don’t know,” the housekeeper answered, “but I think he’s in trouble.”
    Nancy ran down the porch steps to her car. She drove rapidly, wondering at every turn what the police could want with gentle Mr. Soong!
    Nancy ran into police headquarters. The old Chinese gentleman was sitting dejectedly in Chief McGinnis’s office. Nancy looked from Mr. Soong to the police officer, then back to Mr. Soong.
    “What happened?” she asked.
    Mr. Soong, his face lighting at the sight of the young detective, opened his mouth to speak. Chief McGinnis intervened quietly.
    “Perhaps I’d better explain,” he told Nancy. He picked up a paper from his desk. “I received this report today from the New York City police. A woman in New York, named Mrs. Marsden, has complained that a Chinese vase she bought is a fake. She claims it was sold to her by a Mr. Soong of River Heights. She mailed him money orders for five hundred dollars, which he cashed.” The officer looked up, adding:
    “We’ve checked with the postal clerk in