Free The Moonstone Castle Mystery by Carolyn G. Keene

amazing that happened in your town this morning.”
    Instantly the old lady leaned forward expectantly. “What was it?” she asked eagerly.
    The young sleuth laughed. “Oh, I can keep secrets, too.”
    Mrs. Hemstead frowned and rocked back and forth furiously for several seconds. Finally she stopped.

    “So you found me out!” Nancy exclaimed
    “I don’t know whether I’ll tell Mr. Seaman or not,” she said flatly. “I suppose you’d like to know more about him. Well, I can’t tell you much more than I already have. He’s been coming here for several years—always stops and talks to me to get the local news. I figure he’s a traveling salesman.”
    Nancy did not reveal the fact that he had a Deep River address. Because of Mrs. Hemstead’s idea that he was from out of town, Nancy was sure now that Mr. Seaman had given a fictitious address when obtaining his driver’s license. Could he have written the warning note to Mrs. Hemstead? Nancy wondered.
    The old lady went on, “The other day when Mr. Seaman came in, he said he was looking for a girl named Nancy Drew who was coming to town. He wanted to find out where she was staying.”
    “But why?” George put in. “Nancy isn’t acquainted with him.”
    Mrs. Hemstead shrugged. “I don’t know. Mr. Seaman acted as if he wanted to date you, Nancy. When you told me your name was Irene, I figured you must be another girl friend.” The elderly woman chuckled cheerfully. “I thought to myself, ‘Here’s a complication!’ What’s this all about, anyway?”
    “What do you mean?” Nancy countered.
    After another several seconds of furious rocking, Mrs. Hemstead said, “I mean, here you are, a detective, using an assumed name and Mr. Seaman asking for you—”
    Nancy laughed. “I suggest that you ask Mr. Seaman. After all, he inquired about me first.”
    Before Mrs. Hemstead could do any more delving, the young sleuth said, “Girls, I’m absolutely starved. Let’s go eat!”
    She and the cousins escaped into the dining room and found a table far from the waiting-room door. As they unfolded their napkins, George remarked, “Speaking of complications, this mystery gets more tangled by the minute.”
    “I don’t like the idea of that anonymous note, Nancy,” said Bess. “It might mean danger to you!”
    Nancy merely smiled. “You and George are my bodyguards. Can’t you keep me from the big bad wolves? You know, Mr. Seaman might have sent that note.”
    The cousins nodded worriedly. The three ate a light lunch, then Nancy said, “You know we came to the Brass Kettle in the first place to see if Mrs. Hemstead knows Peter Judd. I admit I’d forgotten all about it until this moment.”
    After the girls had paid their lunch checks, they went back to the waiting room. Mrs. Hemstead was not there and Nancy wondered how soon she would return. George learned from the woman’s daughter that she was having her midday meal and a rest in her room upstairs.
    “But Mother will be down in a little while,” she said. “Would you like to wait?”
    Nancy decided to do so. The girls sat down for a few minutes, then arose and began to look at the various articles in the old-fashioned room. Nancy examined the antique map on the wall which designated the local area as Moonstone Valley. Deep River was shown as a place with only a few houses and stores. There were two side streets and at the end of one, at the river, stood a large mill.
    “What a picturesque town this must have been!” Nancy thought.
    At that moment Mrs. Hemstead returned to the room and took her place in the old rocker.
    “Did you enjoy your lunch?” she asked.
    “Yes, indeed,” Bess replied. “If I ate here very often, I’d put on pounds and pounds!”
    “My daughter has established a good reputation,” the elderly woman said proudly. “Folks come from miles and miles away.”
    Nancy asked, “Did you ever hear of a man named Mr. Peter Judd?”
    “Indeed I have,” Mrs. Hemstead replied