The Clue in the Crossword Cipher Page 3

  The others agreed.

  Carla suggested that the visitors might like to see the rest of the house. The girls stood up and began to walk around, admiring the many art objects. The Ponces had exquisite old paintings from Spain, and several ornately carved chests and tables.

  “This is like a museum,” George remarked.

  Finally the visitors returned to the living room. As they walked in with Senor Ponce, Carla was holding Nancy’s magnifying glass. Suddenly she exclaimed:

  “Oh, I think I have just figured out part of this mystery!”

  CHAPTER IV

  Curious Assistant

  EVERYONE crowded around Carla as she pointed to the rest of the vertical line of letters.

  “I think they spell cola. In Spanish that means tail.”

  Nancy’s face broke into a broad grin. “Then the two words down are mono cola-monkey tail!”

  “That’s right.” Señor Ponce nodded. “But what is the significance?”

  No one could answer the question, but each was thinking hard.

  “Probably,” Bess suggested, “for some reason Señor Aguilar couldn’t give the monkey a whole tail, so he carved the word ‘tail.’ ”

  “That sounds reasonable,” Carla’s father remarked.

  “Maybe,” said George, “this monkey had a special kind of tail. To find the answer, I suppose we’ll have to consult books that tell about all sorts of simians. Do you have any such books?”

  “I think so,” Senora Ponce answered. “But I believe all monkeys have long tails. Only apes and baboons do not.”

  Her husband said, “Nancy, you haven’t expressed an opinion. What do you think?”

  The young sleuth replied slowly, “Since this plaque says monkey tail and part of the tail is cut off, I believe that fact is some kind of a clue to the mystery.”

  “You mean,” Carla asked, “if we can figure out the significance of the tail, it will lead us to something valuable that our ancestor Aguilar hid or did in a secret place?”

  “Yes, I do. I also think possibly the kind of wood the plaque is made of may have some bearing on the mystery. Do you know what kind of wood this is, Senor Ponce?” Nancy asked.

  Carla’s father shook his head. “To tell the truth, I never took the trouble to find out.”

  “Who could tell us?”

  “The best person in Lima to ask is Senor Jorge Velez. He has a shop and factory and among other things he makes beautiful hand-wrought wooden trays, plaques, bowls, salad forks, and spoons. I am sure he will recognize what the plaque is made of. In any case, I know you girls will enjoy looking around his shop.”

  Carla’s mother added, “You might like to make some purchases to take home.”

  Nancy was eager to visit the place at once. Señora Ponce said that the shop was not open at this hour. On Thursdays Señor Velez was there only between four and seven o’clock.

  The plaque was wrapped carefully and the four girls set off just before four o’clock in Carla’s sports car. She proved to be an excellent driver as she skillfully wound in and out among the heavy traffic of the business district until she came to Senor Velez’s shop.

  “It’s a quaint old Spanish building,” Bess remarked, admiring the rococo design above and around the heavy doorframe.

  When the girls entered, two men were there arranging attractive polished bowls on shelves. One of the men, who said he was the proprietor, was about fifty years old. He had finely chiseled features and wore a small mustache and a pointed beard. His hair, combed straight back, was wavy and slightly long.

  The girls introduced themselves. Señor Velez bowed and said, “I am very happy to meet you.”

  He introduced the other man as Luis Llosa, his assistant, who was about thirty years old. He was surly looking, thin, dark, a bit stoop-shouldered, and had hairy arms. His eyes were shifty. Both men spoke English.

  Nancy unwrapped the plaque and showed it to Senor Velez. “Can you tell us what kind of wood this is made of?”

  He examined the plaque carefully, even taking a tiny sliver from the edge and holding it under a light. Presently he said, “This is very old and very unusual. The plaque is made of arrayánes wood. There is only one place in the world where it is found.”

  “Here in Peru?” Carla asked.

  Señor Velez shook his head. “It comes from a forest of arrayánes trees at the end of a peninsula a good distance from here. The place is in the Argentine.”

  “The Argentine!” Nancy exclaimed.

  Secretly she had thought of going to the source of the wood, hoping to find a clue there to the mystery. Now the idea vanished.

  “Exactly what part of the Argentine is it in?” Carla asked Señor Velez.

  The shop owner said that the peninsula stretched into Lake Nahuel Huapi.

  “If you girls could possibly manage it, you should visit the arrayánes forest. It is thought that these trees are the descendants of prehistoric ones and are unlike any others on earth today.

  “They are most unusual to look at. The place is a government preserve and nowadays no one is allowed to take any wood from there. I suppose that was not a rule when this plaque was made.”

  Carla began to tell Señor Velez about the mystery surrounding the object. As she was speaking, Nancy noticed that Luis Llosa had edged closer. He had a notebook in his hand and was making a sketch of the plaque. Somehow she did not trust this man, and when he reversed the plaque to the side with the cipher, she grabbed the ancient piece from him.

  “This is private property,” she told him firmly.

  George, too, had noticed what the assistant was doing. With a lightning move she reached across the counter and grabbed the notebook. She tore out the page with the sketch on it, then laid the book back on the counter.

  Luis Llosa glared at the girl, hatred in his eyes. He murmured something in Spanish under his breath, put the notebook into a pocket, and hastened into a back room.

  There was silence until Senor Velez spoke. “Sometimes my assistant is overcurious,” he said apologetically.

  Nancy was embarrassed by the situation and quickly changed the subject. “Do you export your products to the United States?” she asked.

  “Yes,” the craftsman answered. “Many of them go to places in your country, especially to New York City.”

  On a hunch Nancy asked if he ever shipped anything to Harry Wallace.

  “No, I think not. But let me look.”

  Señor Velez took an account book from a locked drawer in a desk and quickly turned to the W’s. “Harry Wallace’s name is not listed here,” he said finally.

  The girls looked over the handmade articles in the shop and made a few purchases, then left. When they reached the Ponces’ home, Carla hung the plaque on the wall where it had always been before she had taken it to River Heights.

  “From the time I was a tiny child, I always loved the monkey,” Carla remarked. “By the way, do you girls feel like doing any more sightseeing?”

  Bess answered, “If you mean am I tired, I’m not.”

  The others were enthusiastic to see more of Lima and Nancy added, “I’m sure you have museums here. Do you think we might visit them and see if we can find some object with a monkey on it? It might give us a clue to why our monkey hasn’t a whole tail.”

  Carla said that among the museums there were two in the city which specialized in pre-Columbian art objects.

  “I believe one of them is closed at this hour, but I know the owner at the other one. He lives nearby and even if it’s closed he will let us in. It’s the Museo Rafael Larco Herrera.”

  When the girls arrived, they found the museum open and two other visitors there, a man and a woman. The man was a portly, red-faced North American. He was brandishing a cane to point out the various objects to the woman, apparently his wife.

  She kept saying to him, “I can see the things. You don’t have to point out everything. You might knock one of these ancient figures off the shelf.”


  Each time she said this he looked at her with a supercilious smile. “Don’t be so bossy. I know what I’m doing.”

  As the girls walked up and down the various aisles, marveling at the hundreds of ancient bits of pottery, they watched intently for any which might have the design of a monkey on it.

  There were jugs of all kinds, some plain, others shaped like animals or decorated with them.

  Displayed in glass cases were many interesting pieces of jewelry. Presently Bess exclaimed, “Come here, girls! Did you ever see such huge earrings in your life?”

  “They must weigh a ton,” George remarked as she gazed at the huge disks of copper and turquoise.

  As the girls went on, they could hear the voices of the couple not far ahead of them. The woman was still advising her husband not to keep pointing with his cane.

  Nancy and her friends suppressed giggles. Carla, in the lead, entered another narrow passageway where the shelves on both sides were crowded with valuable, ancient pottery. The man and his wife stood gazing around. They did not seem to notice the girls’ approach.

  Suddenly Carla cried out, “I see a monkey jug!”

  Nancy, directly behind her, stared at an upper shelf to which Carla was pointing. At the same instant, the man ahead of them suddenly swung his cane upward. The tip of it struck the monkey jug which teetered for a moment, then fell toward Carla’s head.

  The next second it would crash to the floor and be smashed to bits!

  CHAPTER V

  A Perilous Ride

  IN a flash Nancy leaped forward and caught the falling monkey jug. Everyone breathed sighs of relief.

  The first one to speak was the wife of the man who had swept the ancient artifact from the shelf with his cane. “What did I tell you, Charlie?” she half screamed. “That cane of yours will be the death of me!” She tried to take it from her husband but he held on tightly.

  The fracas was stopped by a guard who had come on the run. Politely but firmly, he asked the couple to leave. “Charlie” suddenly looked subdued and followed his wife to the door.

  After they had left, the girls burst into giggles. Bess remarked, “If I had a husband like that—”

  “Or a wife like that—” George added.

  Nancy was still holding the monkey jug. The guard reminded her that objects were not supposed to be removed from the shelves. Quickly George told him what had happened and the man praised Nancy for her fast action.

  “Gracias,” she said.

  The others noticed that she had been turning the clay object around in her hands. The animal’s head protruded from the front of the jug, but its tail was merely painted on.

  “Do you get any clue from it?” Carla asked as Nancy set the ancient jug back on the shelf.

  “Not really,” the young sleuth answered, but she asked the guard if there were any significance to portraying monkeys with incomplete tails. He shrugged and said he had never heard of any.

  The foursome finished their tour of the museum, then went home. While waiting for dinner, which was served late in South American households, Nancy and her friends sat down to talk with Carla and her parents.

  After hearing what the girls had done that day, Senor Ponce asked Nancy, “Have you any ideas about how you will proceed with solving the mystery? What would you like to do next?”

  Nancy’s eyes sparkled and she said mischievously, “Oh, yes. I know what I’d like to do, but it’s impossible.”

  “Nothing is impossible,” said her host with a smile. “Tell me what is on your mind.”

  “A trip to the arrayánes forest.”

  At this announcement Bess and George blinked. Their friend was really reaching far!

  To their surprise, Nancy’s request did not seem to upset Senor Ponce one bit. Grinning, he told the girls that his company owned a private plane which was flying the next day into the Argentine.

  “As a matter of fact, it will go very close to the peninsula where those unusual old trees are.”

  He went on to say that the executives of his company, including himself, were going to the beautiful Hotel Llao-Llao to attend a three-day conference and golf matches.

  “The plane will fly to Bariloche and the group will motor from there to the hotel. There is plenty of room in the plane for you four girls. How would you like to go?”

  The visitors were almost speechless with delight, but finally Nancy said, “Oh, Señor Ponce, that would be marvelous! You say the arrayánes forest is not far from where we’ll be staying?”

  “The hotel is on the same lake and you can rent a boat for an excursion to the forest.”

  “Father,” said Carla, hugging him, “you are a darling.” As he looked startled at this unfamiliar remark, she added quickly, “That is what the girls up in River Heights say to people who do nice things.”

  Her father laughed and said, “I think we Peruvians should adopt the phrase. I like it.”

  Senor Ponce told the girls that the group from his company was leaving the following morning, so he advised his daughter and her friends to be ready early. He thought it might be a good idea for Nancy to take the plaque.

  As Bess was preparing for bed, she remarked to George, “There’s been so much excitement since we left home, I feel as if I will burst!”

  George grinned. “Well, my dear fat cousin, that might be one way to lose some weight!”

  The flight the following day was a delightful one with breath-taking scenery. Snow-capped mountains, a profusion of lakes, and verdant farmland with hundreds of cattle grazing stretched for miles and miles.

  Bariloche was a quaint, interesting town. It had been settled by the Swiss, who had built everything to resemble the architecture in their homeland.

  In less than half an hour the group arrived by car at the Hotel Llao-Llao. It was a long rambling building on very attractive grounds and stood on a knoll overlooking the water.

  In the center of the hotel was a lobby and from this ran a wide corridor the full length of the building. There were shops along either side of one end. Directly ahead was a large lounge and a glassed-in porch overlooking the golf course.

  Rooms on the second floor were assigned to the girls. A broad stairway led upward. The girls walked instead of taking the elevator.

  Nancy and Carla’s room overlooked the lake which stretched for miles and miles. Not far from the hotel was a dock where powerboats could be rented.

  “Look!” Bess exclaimed, pointing down to a roadway which led along the foot of the slope.

  An ox was pulling a cart on which sat a sleepy-looking driver, holding the reins loosely.

  “I want to take their picture,” said Bess, and made a dash for her camera. By the time she had it set, the oxcart had moved around a bend and was lost to view.

  “Better luck next time,” George told her.

  The girls unpacked and Nancy carefully laid the plaque in the bottom drawer of her bureau. Over it she put a wrinkle-proof dress and a couple of sweaters.

  George poked her head in the doorway. “Let’s take a walk,” she suggested. “This looks like an interesting place to explore.”

  “And we should make arrangements for someone to take us in a boat to the arrayánes forest tomorrow,” Nancy added.

  The girls changed into slacks, locked their doors, and hurried downstairs. Bess’s camera swung from a strap over her shoulder. “Maybe the oxcart will come back,” she said hopefully.

  First the girls went to the boat dock and made arrangements for the next day’s trip. They were told there would be several other passengers.

  “I hope it does not rain,” the man said dolefully. “It looks as if it might.”

  “We’ll go anyway,” Nancy replied. “Hasta la vista. Be seeing you.”

  On the way back to the hotel the girls saw the oxcart parked on the side of the roadway, but the driver was not in sight. Bess decided this was a good chance to take the animal’s picture. As she and the others approached the ox, they noticed a boy of abo
ut fourteen seated on the hill-side nearby. A man was talking to him, but as soon as he saw the girls, the stranger hurried away.

  “Hmm! He acts as if he’s afraid of us!” George remarked.

  Bess was about to snap a picture of the oxcart, when the boy arose from the embankment and said to Nancy, “You ride ox? You have picture taken on ox?”

  As Nancy demurred, Bess said she thought this was a grand idea. “Please climb up. The picture will be a wonderful souvenir of our trip.”

  “Oh, all right,” Nancy said.

  With George’s help she gave a little jump and landed squarely on the back of the ox. Instantly the boy, who was holding a stick in one hand, gave the animal a hard slap with it. The beast started off abruptly, nearly throwing Nancy to the ground.

  She realized, to her dismay, that the ox had been unhitched. She clung tightly to its neck, yelling, “Whoa! Whoa!” at the top of her lungs.

  The other girls were aghast. They started running after the animal, which despite its size and clumsiness was making good speed.

  Bess, though fearful, followed her cousin, who yelled, “We’ll run up this hill and cut them off!”

  She and George ran sideways up the slope, then down again several yards in front of the pounding animal.

  “Do just what I do!” George commanded.

  The two girls waved their arms wildly, crossing and uncrossing them. They spread their feet far apart and swayed from side to side. The ox, frightened by the gestures, pulled up short.

  Nancy climbed down in a hurry. “Thanks, girls. Boy, what a ride! Bareback ox-riding isn’t one of my favorite sports!”

  “What do we do with this beast—leave him here?” George asked.

  As if in answer to her question, the driver came running down the road. He spoke only a little English, but the girls gathered that he was blaming them for having unhitched the ox. They denied it vehemently, but wondered who had done so. Was it the boy? Or could it have been the man who had run off?

  Nancy yelled, “Whoa! Whoa!”

  “We had better go ask that boy,” Carla suggested.