Free The Spider Sapphire Mystery by Carolyn G. Keene Page B

furniture, attractive drapes, and a fireplace at one end gave the place a cozy atmosphere.
    There was a knock on the door and a smiling black boy entered, his arms full of logs. With a pleasant “Good morning,” he knelt down and built a fire. Because of a slight chill in the air, the girls were delighted to have the fire. The boy bowed and went out.
    “Since we’re going to be here a little while,” Bess spoke up, “I’m going to hang up my dresses. They really can stand an airing.”
    The girls hung up their suits and dresses. They left the rest of their clothes and jewelry in the suitcases.
    “It would be fun to have our breakfast in front of this fire,” George remarked, “but we promised to meet the boys, so we’d better go.”
    “Actually this is our second breakfast,” Nancy reminded the others. “But I must admit I can use it after that drive up here.”
    As usual, Bess said, “I’m starved!”
    While the girls were walking through the attractive club to the dining room, Bess remarked, “This looks like a safe place for us to be. No villains, baboons, or anything else to bother us. We can just have fun and forget all the mysteries.”
    Nancy made no comment, but she thought that surely her enemies knew the Emerson itinerary. It was doubtful they would leave her and her friends alone.
    “I just hope I’ll see them first,” Nancy said to herself.
    The breakfast hour was jolly and at the end Nancy suggested that they all put on bathing suits and go to the swimming pool.
    “Great idea,” Burt agreed.
    “And I can do some sun-tanning,” said George.
    Bess warned her cousin to be careful of the strong African sun. “I hear it will give you a terrible burn without you realizing you’re turning to a crisp.”
    When the young people left the dining room, Ned and Nancy were last in line. As they strolled through the lobby, Nancy whispered to him, “See that Indian over there in the corner reading a newspaper.”
    Ned looked in the direction which she indicated. The man was elderly. He was handsome with his shock of white hair and wore his English-style clothes well.
    “That’s some ring he’s wearing,” Ned remarked.
    On the little finger of the Indian’s left hand was a ring with a large flashing diamond.
    Nancy was more interested in a name penciled in an upper corner of the newspaper. “Ned, it says Tagore! Do you suppose he’s Shastri Tagore?”
    “Maybe.”
    “Let’s ask the desk clerk,” she suggested.
    “Why don’t we just introduce ourselves?” Ned proposed.
    Nancy was tempted to follow his suggestion, but on second thought changed her mind. “If it is Mr. Tagore, why don’t I ask when he made his reservation? It’s just possible he came here because of us.”
    Ned agreed and went with her to the desk. To the couple’s surprise, they learned that indeed the man was Mr. Shastri Tagore from Mombasa and that he came here year after year at exactly this time.
    The clerk seemed somewhat amused at Nancy and Ned’s interest in the man. “Would you like to meet him?” he asked.
    Nancy blushed but said, “Yes, I would.”
    The clerk escorted the couple to where Mr. Tagore was reading. As soon as introductions were made, he excused himself and returned to his desk.
    Mr. Tagore had risen and it was evident at once that he was a very polite and cultured man. “You are from the United States? How interesting! Won’t you sit down? I should like to ask you some questions about your country.”
    For several minutes the conversation remained general. Every subject which was touched upon was one with which Mr. Tagore seemed very familiar, even sports in America. He talked with Ned for several minutes about football and then with Nancy about tennis.
    “Do you ride?” Mr. Tagore asked them. When both nodded, he said, “If you are ever in Mombasa, I wish you would come to see me. I have horses which I believe you would enjoy riding.”
    All this time Nancy was thinking, “How could this