Free (#24) The Clue in the Old Album by Carolyn Keene Page A

from various angles, but arrived at no conclusion. Nancy then told her how she had chased a man in Wrightville whom she thought was the purse snatcher.
    “Sorry I didn’t catch him,” she said.
    “Oh, Nancy, I meant to tell you,” Mrs. Struthers interrupted. “The police telephoned this morning. They know the thief’s name.”
    “They do?”
    “They believe he’s Tony Wassell, a half-breed gypsy. The police followed the tip given by the guard at the museum and traced the purse snatcher through bank records.”
    “So Tony Wassell is a half-breed gypsy,” Nancy remarked thoughtfully. “I’ll bet he steals and sells valuable old dolls, as well as other things, and hides in a nearby gypsy camp. I’ll tell the state police!” She phoned at once and told the officer where she had seen Wassell and where she thought he might be found.
    “If only the man could be captured before he has a chance to use the information contained in the purse!” Mrs. Struthers said to Nancy when she finished the call.
    “You mean he might blackmail or rob you?” the girl detective asked.
    “Yes. Oh, I never wanted anyone but Rose to see the letter, and not until after my death. That was why I always carried it with me.”
    Mrs. Struthers did not explain further and Nancy politely did not question her.
    “Some nights I can’t sleep, worrying about what may happen,” Mrs. Struthers went on. “Some gypsies are so vindictive. I’ve been told that if their tribal laws are violated by one of their number, they often take revenge on a member of the family. I’m afraid they may try to harm Rose because her father married outside his tribe.”
    “Please try not to worry about it,” Nancy said. She did not add that this very idea had been plaguing her for some time.
    The next morning, when Nancy came down to breakfast, there were two letters at her place on the dining-room table.
    One of them was postmarked Wrightville, and her name and address had been printed. Puzzled, Nancy tore the envelope open and read the message: “Stay at home, Nancy Drew, and attend to your own business! If you don’t, it will be the worse for you!”

CHAPTER XI
    A Warning
    HANNAH Gruen came into the dining room and knew from Nancy’s expression that something was wrong.
    “What is it?” she asked. “Not bad news, I hope.”
    Nancy showed her the warning note. “I can’t imagine who could have sent it,” she said, “unless it was the purse snatcher.”
    “Oh, Nancy, I’m so worried!” the housekeeper exclaimed after she had read the anonymous message. “It must have something to do with the case you’re working on. Please give up trying to help Mrs. Struthers!”
    “I can’t let a little note like this frighten me,” Nancy said. “Anyway, I think the person who sent it merely means he wants me to stay away from Wrightville.”
    “Then promise me you will,” Hannah begged.
    “All right.” Nancy laughed and gave the woman an affectionate hug. “Any calls for me while I was in the shower?”
    “One from the yacht club, asking for any used clothes we might want to donate.”
    “Good,” Nancy said. “I have a pile of Dad’s and my things. I’ll run over with them.”
    “Be careful,” Mrs. Gruen urged, as Nancy went out the door.
    “I’ll be all right,” Nancy called as she stepped into her car.
    She drove over the heavy bridge that spanned the Muskoka River and headed for the yacht club. The river road was practically deserted.
    Suddenly Nancy noticed another automobile a short distance behind her. Though she deliberately slowed down to let it pass, the driver did not attempt to do so. She accelerated. The man behind also put on speed.
    “He’s following me!” Nancy decided finally. “Maybe there’s more to that warning note than I thought!”
    She kept the image of the other car in her mirror, and as she approached a sharp and dangerous turn where the road shot up a hill, Nancy was alarmed to see that the driver behind her