dark, and she squinted in Nancy's direction.
Nancy moved into the slice of light near the door-
way. “Violet? It's Nancy Drew.”
“Nancy!” Violet exclaimed. “Goodness me! Don't we
end up in the oddest places together? What are you
doing at Fern Hill? You say you're lost?”
“Yes,” Nancy replied. “I'm staying at my aunt
Eloise's cabin on the other side of the lake. I was out
canoeing, but then it got dark and now I can't find my
way back.”
“What a coincidence that we both decided to travel
to the Adirondacks today,” Violet said, her lavender
hair puffing out from under a golf cap. “But we did
have some rough times this past week, what with all
those strange things going on at the house. I simply
couldn't handle it a moment longer, and I see that you
couldn't, either. Are your two nice friends with you?”
“We're all staying at my aunt's cabin,” Nancy
replied.
“But you were out on the lake alone,” Violet scolded,
shaking a skinny finger at Nancy. “What if your canoe
had capsized? No one would hear from you again.”
“I'm a good swimmer,” Nancy told her.
“Ah, but this lake can be deadly,” Violet pro-
nounced. “It's not to be trusted. Would you like to rest
up inside before you start home? It would be lovely to
chat with you for a while, Nancy.”
Nancy followed Violet inside. Shooting a glance at
the box Violet had been holding, Nancy saw that it was
full of old letters.
A thrill went through her. But when Violet sat down
in a nearby chair, Nancy's excitement turned to
frustration. How can I sneak a look at the letters with
Violet here? she wondered.
“Uh, Violet,” Nancy said, pulling up the zipper of
her sweatshirt, “I'm a little cold from being out on the
lake for so long. Could I have a cup of tea, please?”
Violet shot up from her chair. “Where are my
manners?” she muttered. “Of course you may have
some tea, my dear. Excuse me.”
The moment Violet turned her back, Nancy kneeled
down by the cardboard box. She slipped off her
sweatshirt and got to work. On the top of the box were
letters addressed to Van Hoogstratens she hadn't heard
of. But as she dug deeper, she found a letter addressed
to Julius Van Hoogstraten, with Gustav Kinderhook's
return address.
With mounting excitement, Nancy opened the let-
ter. “Dear Julius,” she read, “It's lucky for me that I'm
fluent in English because I wouldn't want my wife and
daughter to look over my shoulder as I write and know
my distressing news.
“I have discovered that you are passing off my
glasswork as your own. A fellow Dutch glassworker,
Hans Guilder, saw your collection when he attended a
party at your house as an escort to a young lady you'd
invited. Maybe you did not realize that Hans was a
colleague familiar with my work. If you had, you
probably would not have allowed him inside.
“Hans was interested to learn that you'd created a
display of glass birds when you'd lived in Holland. But
the moment he saw them he was suspicious because
they are so distinctly my own style. And when he saw
my olive branch upon the crystal dove, he was
convinced of your treachery. He immediately told me
about your terrible deed.
“Yes, Julius, you did buy the birds from me before
you went to America because you had always admired
them, but you did not buy the right to tell the world
that you had made them. I can't believe that you—my
former pupil and employee—would do such a thing.
What has the world come to when you betray an old
teacher such as myself?
“I am highly displeased. I am planning to correct
your act of piracy by letting the world know that I am
the true creator of your beautiful ornithological display.
Mark my words, Julius, you will be shamed before
everyone. Sincerely, Gustav Kinderhook.”
Nancy looked up to make sure that Violet wasn't
there. Sure enough, she was still bustling around in the
kitchen, slamming cabinet doors and singing to herself.
Nancy folded the letter and stuffed it in the pocket
of her sweatshirt lying on the floor. Then she dug back
into the box. Even if I don't find anything else, Nancy
thought, this letter proves that the Van Hoogstraten
Collection is a fake.
As she searched in the box, Nancy felt a pang of
sadness as she thought about the Van Hoogstraten
family. They had believed their ancestor had this great
artistic talent, when all he had really created was a
terrible deception. He must have been desperate to be
known for something other than his wealth, Nancy
thought.
Nancy's gaze focused on a letter with familiar
handwriting near the bottom of the box. This one was
also addressed to Julius with Gustav's return address.
Nancy opened the envelope.
“Dear Julius,” she read, “I want to thank you for the
$10,000 that you sent me to buy my silence. Rest
assured that I will tell no one I am the true creator of
your glass bird collection.
“I took your money reluctantly. If the money had
been for me, I would have reported your fraud and not
accepted the payment, but I desperately need it to pay
my sick daughter's medical expenses. She has been
very ill, but the money can buy her an expensive new
treatment. There is finally hope for her. I must be
grateful for that, even though I hate myself for
participating in your rotten scheme.
“I trust this will be the last of our letters. Sincerely,
Gustav Kinderhook.”
As Nancy's eyes scanned the last line, she paused.
Someone was behind her—she could tell. Violet with
my tea? she wondered.
A sharp blow cracked down on her head, and Nancy
crumpled to the floor, too stunned to cry out. As she
lay on the floor helplessly, she could feel her legs being
lifted up and her body hauled toward the open front
door.
From the kitchen Violet's cheerful voice rang out,
“Nancy, dear, do you take cream and sugar in your
tea?”
Nancy thought about screaming for help. But even if
she could muster up the strength, what good would it
do? she wondered. Violet was no match for this person,
and anyway the lodge had no phone. The attacker
seemed pretty strong, and if Violet tried to get in the
way, she might end up hurt, too.
Nancy closed her eyes, pretending to be uncon-
scious. After all, she reasoned, she was too weak to
fight, and she might as well gather her strength. She
had a feeling she would need it later.
The person stopped at the porch stairs and lifted
Nancy up. A low grunt made Nancy realize that her
attacker was a man.
Hoisting her onto
his back, the man headed toward
the lake, his footsteps thumping on the path. Nancy's
head hung below his shoulders, and in the dark, she
had no way of telling who he was.
A bolt of lightning ripped through the sky, but all
Nancy could see was the bottom of a pair of blue jeans
tucked into sturdy hiking boots.
Thunder blasted through the air. Seconds later
Nancy saw her aunt's canoe below her on the shore.
The person laid Nancy down inside it. Then he pushed
the canoe into the dark water and climbed inside.
Sitting in the back, he began to paddle. The canoe
made hardly a sound as it glided over the calm lake
water.
Slowly Nancy felt her strength returning. Deciding
that she could fight back if she had to, Nancy sneaked a
glance at the person above her.
15. Birds of a Feather
A chill went through Nancy as lightning illuminated the
steely eyes of Alden Guest.
The lightning died, and a thunderclap instantly
followed. The skies opened, and a torrential rain swept
over the lake, lashing the water brutally. But Nancy
could still see Alden, staring ahead as he rowed with
firm, swift strokes.
Alden's eyes flickered toward Nancy as he switched
his paddle to the other side of the canoe.
Nancy,” he snarled. “I'll have to do a better job on you
this time.” He raised his oar to strike her as she lay at
the bottom of the canoe.
Nancy didn't wait another second. As lightning
flashed through the sky again, she raised her leg and
karate kicked Alden in the chest.
Knocked off balance by Nancy's attack, Alden
dropped the paddle in the water as his arms flailed in
the air. The canoe rocked wildly back and forth, and
Nancy remembered Aunt Eloise's warning that it could
carry only one person safely.
More lightning lit up the sky as they struggled to
right the canoe. But it was no use. Seconds later the
canoe tipped over, plunging them into the water.
Sheets of rain pounded the canoe. Nancy held onto
it as she yelled for Alden. “We've got to get off the
lake!” she cried. “The lightning.”
Alden popped up on the other side of the canoe.
“Not until I've taken care of you,” he cried, then dis-
appeared below it.
He's going to pull me under the water, Nancy
thought. She began to swim, taking strong even strokes
as she forced herself to stay calm. But which way is the
closest shore? she wondered, her eyes struggling to
penetrate the thick darkness.
Another streak of lightning lit up the lake for what
seemed like an eternity, and Nancy saw the shore
about fifty feet away.
Something splashed behind her. Nancy shot a look
over her shoulder before the lightning died. Adrenaline
shot down her spine. Alden was gaining on her.
Nancy plunged ahead, expecting Alden to grab her
ankle at any second. Thunder echoed across the lake as
Nancy swam. Her arm muscles ached with the strain of
swimming, and she choked down waves that slammed
into her whenever she gasped for air. But no matter
how hard it was to swim in the middle of the storm, she
forced herself to press on.
I've got to swim faster, she told herself. I can't let
him catch me.
A blinding flash and then a blast like an explosion
ripped apart the air. Nancy whirled around. Flames
engulfed a tree on a small island behind her. Lightning
had struck it, she realized. She could be next— or
Alden. But where was he?
A dark form rose up on her left. Nancy put her face
back in the water and pressed on, her arms moving like
knives as they sliced through the lake. She couldn't
think about how tired she was. She had to keep
moving.
Nancy felt something gripping her legs. Alden! she
thought, with a stab of fear. But no—it was something
soft and slimy, slick with algae. No matter how hard
she tried to escape from its clutches, it wouldn't let her
go.
Nancy reached into the water and tugged at the
weeds, trying to free her legs. But she was completely
tangled. A shudder ran through her—she felt as if an
octopus or a lake monster had snagged her from the
deep.
Nancy jerked at the stems in frustration. She tried to
move again, but it was as if she were in a nightmare.
No matter how hard she struggled, her legs wouldn't
move.
Nancy heard a splash about five feet away. Alden
would be on her in seconds.
Nancy yanked desperately at the weeds that bound
her legs, but they were too tough. She swiveled toward
Alden, getting ready for a fight.
Alden suddenly started thrashing. “I'm stuck!” he
sputtered, his voice panicked.
Summoning all her energy, Nancy yanked the weeds
once more. Relief flooded through her as the stems
snapped. Finally she was free.
Skimming the surface of the water to avoid the
weeds, Nancy shot toward shore. As she dragged
herself from the chilly water, she scanned the area of
the lake where she had last seen Alden.
Nancy started. Alden was five feet behind her, rising
from the water on the rocky shore.
“I had my penknife in my pocket,” he explained.
“Those weeds couldn't keep me down for long.
Surprised, aren't you, Nancy?”
He stooped to pick up a rock. With that in one hand
and his penknife in the other, he marched toward
Nancy.
“You think you can escape from me, Nancy?” he
growled as lightning flared through the sky. “I must
admit you were a challenge for a while, but now I've
finally got you.” He laughed, eyeing Nancy pitilessly.
“You don't have me yet, Alden,” Nancy countered,
trying to edge around him.
“I'll knock you out with this stone and throw you in
the lake, and no one will ever suspect me,” Alden
declared. “Eloise will think you drowned when your
canoe capsized in the storm.”
For a split second Alden stared at her, his face a
mask of hatred as more lightning glowed. Then he
rushed her, holding up the stone. But Nancy was
quicker. In two quick karate moves, she kicked the
stone and the penknife from his hands. Shocked, Alden
stepped back.
Nancy didn't give him a moment to relax. With one
more kick in the chest, she knocked him to the ground.
“Hey, Nancy!” George's voice rang out from the
porch of Fern Hill as a flashlight glimmered. “Guys, I
think she's down there. I see a shadow by the lake.”
“I'm here,” Nancy yelled back, “with Alden.”
“Alden?” she heard Bess gasp.
“Nancy, be careful. We're coming,” Aunt Eloise
cried. “The sheriff is w
ith us.”
“The sheriff?” Alden moaned as he lay on the
ground. Leaning on his elbows, he gazed despondently
at the group dashing down the path from Fern Hill.
“Then it's all over for me.”
Seconds later the sheriff appeared—a stout, middle-
aged man—followed by Bess, George, and Eloise
Drew.
The sheriff went straight to Alden, pulled his arms
behind his back, and clamped a pair of handcuffs on his
wrists. “The moment I stepped onto the porch of Fern
Hill,” he said, “I saw you attacking this young lady—
before George alerted everyone that she was here.
That bolt of lightning lit you up. Young man, I'm
arresting you for assault at the very least.” Looking at
Nancy, he added, “I'm impressed by your self-defense
skills. Those were some karate kicks.”
“Thanks,” Nancy said, smiling. To Aunt Eloise,
George, and Bess, she added, “So how did you guys
know that I was in danger here? I mean, you actually
brought the sheriff.”
“I can explain everything,” the sheriff said. “Eloise
called me the moment the storm started, because she
was worried that you were out on the lake. Since my
police station isn't far from her house, I picked up
Eloise, George, and Bess on my way to Fern Hill. I
thought there was a good chance you'd taken refuge
here, and I wanted to check it out before searching the
lake. I knew there was no phone here, so you wouldn't
be able to call your aunt.”
“Oh, Nancy, I'm so glad you're okay,” Aunt Eloise
said, hugging her. “My goodness, you're completely
drenched. Let's get you back to the cabin. Violet has
made a roaring fire.”
A few minutes later Violet handed Nancy a cup of
tea and a dry towel. “Stand here by the fire, dear. You'll
be warm in no time. Of course, you could borrow some
of Julius's second wife's clothes,” Violet added
doubtfully. “They've been gathering dust in her closet
all these years. In fact, I was just cleaning out that
closet when you first arrived.”
“Don't worry, Violet,” Nancy said, setting her teacup
on a table while she dried her hair by the fire, “my
clothes will dry out soon, thanks to your great fire.”
“What a shocking thing you've done, Alden,” Violet
declared, glaring at him as he stood inside the lodge
with the sheriff. “You've wounded our family pride.”
“Time to get going,” the sheriff said. “I've got to get