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“All those treasures were recovered after Mrs. Alexandra reached America. For years I was busy locating her family possessions around the world. She wanted them so badly that she sold many of her jewels to obtain them.”

“How was she able to leave Europe?” Nancy inquired. “Did she wear a disguise when she crossed the border from her country?”

“She dressed as a peasant woman,” Mr. Faber explained. “That was why the soldiers were not suspicious when they examined the Easter egg and the jewel box. They didn’t open them. The men assumed that both objects were copies of real pieces.”

“You say Mrs. Alexandra was able to save a fortune?” Mr. Drew’s curiosity was aroused.

“A small one. She had many jewels, and by selling them one at a time, she has been able to live comfortably.”

Mr. Drew nodded and glanced at his wrist watch. “I must leave now for an appointment,” he said, and left the shop.

Nancy lingered. “Mr. Faber, I hope that someday Mrs. Alexandra will show me her jewel case,” she said wistfully. “I did see the inside of the Easter egg. The singing nightingale is unique.”

“Singing nightingale?” Mr. Faber echoed. “But the little bird does not sing.”

“It sang for us. My friends heard the song too. However, we all thought it did not sound just right.”

“That is very strange,” murmured the shop owner. “When my father made the enameled egg years ago the nightingale did not sing. I shall ask Madame Alexandra about-”

At that moment there was a terrific crash against the front door. The cab of a truck burst into the shop, scattering wood and plaster. Nancy and Mr. Faber leaped to safety!

CHAPTER V

Pickpocket’s Double

A LOUD groan came from the street as the truck driver stopped in the doorway. Had he hit someone?

Instantly Nancy hurried to his side. “You hurt?” Nancy asked him.

“I guess not,” the man answered, “but what a mess I’ve made! My steering wheel went out of control.”

Nancy did not wait to hear any more. She climbed over the debris to the street and glanced around to see if anyone had been injured. A woman stood looking at a ruined shopping cart of meats and groceries.

“What I do?” she wailed in broken English. “No more money for food!”

Nancy put an arm around her. “Be glad you weren’t killed,” she said kindly. “And I’m sure the truck driver will give you the money to buy more food and a cart. Come with me.”

When the two climbed into the shop, the truck driver was asking Mr. Faber if he might use the telephone. Quickly Nancy explained the woman’s plight.

“I’m sorry,” the driver said. “I’ll pay for the food and cart.” He took out his wallet and gave her money for the total loss. The woman went off smiling.

Nancy felt she could be of no further use regarding the accident, and told Mr. Faber she would return another time. When she reached home, her thoughts reverted to Mrs. Alexandra and the singing nightingale. She decided to call on her that evening.

After reporting that she had made a little progress in searching for Francis Baum, Nancy tact fully brought up the subject of the bird.

“Oh, I think the little nightingale always has sung,” Mrs. Alexandra answered. “For many years I did not realize this. Then one day I accidentally touched the spring that controls the mechanism.”

“Mr. Faber thinks that his father did not intend the bird to sing.”

“I fear that he is mistaken.”

“Then there’s no mystery connected with it?” Nancy’s voice showed her disappointment.

“Not to my knowledge,” Mrs. Alexandra replied. “In my life there is only one mystery. The mystery of what became of my beloved grandson. Find him for me and my gratitude will be boundless.”

Mrs. Alexandra’s plea stirred Nancy to greater effort in her search for the missing Francis Baum. She set off early the next morning with George and Bess to the town where the Eagle Home Service laundry was located. There she obtained the young man’s new address.

“I hope he’ll be there,” George said excitedly.

A few minutes later the girls arrived at 35 Cornell Avenue, a guest house covered with vines. In response to their knock, a stout woman, whose hands were red and puffy from work, came to the door.

“You want to rent rooms?” she asked abruptly.

“No, we are trying to trace a young man by the name of Francis Baum,” Nancy explained. “I understand he lives here.”

“Yes, he rents a room upstairs,” the landlady said. “But he’s not here now. He had to go away for a few days on business.”

Nancy was disappointed. “I believe I’ll leave a message,” she said. “When Mr. Baum returns tell him that I have a picture for him-one which I think he lost from his wallet. My name is Nancy Drew.

“Please ask him to call me at once in River Heights or come for the photograph.” Nancy wrote her phone number and address on a slip of paper and handed it to the woman.

“I’ll tell him, but whether or not he’ll do it I couldn’t say,” the landlady replied.

Nancy looked questioningly at her.

“Oh, he keeps so much to himself,” the woman said. “It seems funny to me that he always locks his suitcase and takes the key. You can bet that man has something to conceal.”

“Does Mr. Baum have many callers?”

“A man once in a while-never any girl friends,” the landlady replied pointedly.

Behind Nancy’s back, Bess and George giggled. It amused them that the landlady had assumed their friend was romantically interested in Francis Baum.

“Just give Mr. Baum my message, please,” Nancy requested.

Blushing, she turned away, walking ahead of Bess and George, who grinned broadly.

“Now, none of your smart remarks!” Nancy said, trying to forestall any needling by the girls.

“Why, Nancy,” George said in mock reproach, “we didn’t know you were trying to track down a husband of royal blood!”

“Have your fun,” Nancy said cheerfully.

After a leisurely lunch in an attractive restaurant on the riverbank, the girls took the ferryboat back to the opposite shore and returned to their homes. When Nancy reached hers, she found two girls seated in the living room.

“Helen Corning Archer!” Nancy greeted her old friend. “When did you and your husband get back?”

“Only yesterday,” Helen answered, giving Nancy an affectionate hug and kiss, then introduced her companion as Katherine Kovna. “What an exciting trip Jim and I had in Europe!”

“I’d say you visited some of the best dress shops!” Nancy said. “That’s a fantastic suit you’re wearing!”

“Katherine designed and made it for me,” Helen said proudly. “We met in Europe, and I talked her into coming to this country and staying with Jim and me for a while.”

Nancy learned that Helen’s guest hoped to open a fashion shop in town.

“Each time I go any place I’ll wear a dress designed especially for me,” Helen said. “Everyone will ask where I bought it, and I’ll tell them of Katherine’s work. The orders should roll in!”

“You Americans!” The European girl smiled. “You sweep me off the feet!” The others laughed.

“I could use a new dress,” said Nancy, grinning. “Would you make one for me?”

“Katherine can measure you now,” Helen said at once. “As her business manager, I accept the order. We’ll give you a special discount.”

Nancy went to get a tape measure from the sewing basket. Katherine made various notations on a slip of paper, and sketched a few ideas. As Nancy tried to decide which one she liked best, she casually hummed a few bars of the nightingale’s song. The young designer listened attentively.

“That melody!” she murmured. “What is its name?”

“So far as I know, it has none,” Nancy answered. “I’ll try to sing the words, but I don’t know what they mean.” She sang a few syllables.