The Mystery at Lilac Inn

A bright blue roadster, low-swung and smart, rolled swiftly along the winding lake road to halt suddenly before a large signboard which boldly proclaimed to all who chanced that way:

Lilac Inn: Chicken Dinners Our Specialty.

The driver, a pretty girl of perhaps sixteen, attractive in a frock which either by accident or design exactly matched the blue of the automobile, smiled whimsically as she read the words.

“My specialty, too!” Nancy Drew told herself. “The thought of chicken almost makes me expire from hunger. I think I’ll stop here for luncheon.”

Guiding the car into the side road, she drove beneath a long canopy of trees and presently came within sight of Lilac Inn. As she swung the roadster into line with the row of automobiles parked in the yard, it seemed to her that the old inn had never appeared more picturesque than on this particular spring day. Huge lilac bushes, heavy with bloom, completely surrounded the rambling structure, while a well-kept lawn sloped gently to a crystal lake at the rear.

Alighting from the roadster, Nancy stood for a moment gazing toward the lake. So absorbed was she in the beauty of the scene that she failed to notice the approach of a girl who from appearance might have been her own age.

“Nancy Drew of all people!” the stranger cried eagerly as she rushed up.

Startled at hearing her name called, Nancy Drew wheeled quickly and then smiled as she recognized a former classmate whom she had not seen for many weeks.

Mary Mason arose to depart. She sauntered across the floor, casting a last appraising glance about the room. Nancy escorted her to the door and as she opened it recalled that she had neglected to mention her own name.

“I am Nancy Drew,” she said pleasantly.

Mary Mason’s indifferent attitude vanished as if by magic.

“Nancy Drew?” she repeated tensely.

“Why, yes. You’ve heard of me perhaps?”

The girl ignored the question; in fact, she seemed not to have heard it. As Nancy stared at her in surprise she saw that the color had drained from her face, leaving it white and frightened.

“Who are you?” the girl demanded harshly. “You aren’t the daughter of⁠—”

“Carson Drew,” Nancy finished. “You’ve probably heard of him.”

“Your father is a lawyer?”

“Yes. He specializes in criminal and mystery cases.”

The announcement had a very peculiar effect upon Mary Mason. She took a step backward and her hand gripped the door knob. Her eyes dilated with something that looked like fear.

“I can’t take the position, Miss Drew,” she said a trifle shakily.

“You can’t take it? Why not, may I ask?”

“I⁠—I didn’t know your father was a lawyer.”

“What difference can that make?” Nancy asked bluntly.

“I’ll not work in such a place! I wouldn’t think of it!”

“My father will be very kind to you. You need have no fear on that score. I don’t see why you should be afraid.”

“Someone is going to be killed!”

It was all over in an instant. To the horror-stricken diners there came the sound of a terrific crash. Two automobiles had collided at the crossroads.

Chairs were hastily pushed back and everyone rushed to the doors and windows. For several minutes everything was in confusion. In her haste to see what had happened, Mrs. Willoughby upset a glass of water. Even the waiters dropped their trays and ran to the door.

“I saw it all!” Mrs. Potter cried. “I’m sure someone must have been killed! The cars came together with terrific force!”

“Oh, how dreadful!” Mrs. Willoughby moaned. “Why will people insist upon speeding?”

“Send for a doctor and an ambulance!” Mrs. Potter cried.

Several men rushed from the dining room and hurried toward the scene of the accident. One of the waiters sprang to a telephone and quickly called the nearest doctor. The room was abuzz with excited conversation.

“It was their own fault,” someone declared emphatically. “I saw it all from this window. Both cars were going at terrific speed.”

“Oh, I hope no one was killed,” Mrs. Willoughby murmured anxiously.

For a few minutes it seemed that everyone talked at once, relating what each had witnessed. The commotion died down as the manager of the tea room, an elderly, pleasant-faced woman, came up the path.

“Ho-hum, but I’m tired tonight. Hard day at the office.”

Carson Drew dropped his hat on the living room table and sank wearily on the davenport. “By the way, Nancy, I suppose you’ve heard the bad news by this time.”

“What news?” Nancy demanded anxiously. “Don’t dare tell me that Judge Graham isn’t coming after all the trouble I’ve had getting a satisfactory housekeeper.”

“Oh, Judge Graham will get here all right. I was referring to the news about your little friend, Emily Crandall.”

“Emily? Why, I saw her only this afternoon.”

“But you didn’t see the Crandall jewels.”

“Why, no, her guardian was to deliver them later in the day.”

“Read this!”

Mr. Drew spread out the front page of the evening paper before his daughter’s startled eyes.

“The Crandall jewels⁠—stolen!” Nancy gasped. “Oh, how dreadful!”

“I can’t say that it surprises me much,” Mr. Drew commented dryly. “Mrs. Willoughby didn’t appear to have used an ounce of sense. She invited trouble by carrying forty thousand dollars’ worth of diamonds unguarded.”

“I’m sure this path has been used recently,” she reasoned. “Otherwise it would be overgrown with weeds. I wonder who has been landing at this old dock?”

The faint chug-chug of a motorboat caused her to glance out toward the river. Some distance down the stream she saw a high-powered boat cutting through the water and apparently heading for the very spot where she was standing. Quickly, she stepped back into the tall bushes.

“That motorboat is coming toward this very dock!” she told herself excitedly.

Crouching low in the brush which afforded a perfect shield from the river, she waited expectantly. The noise of the motor became louder as the boat approached, and then suddenly the engine was throttled.

Overpowered by curiosity, Nancy cautiously peeped out from her hiding place. She saw that the boat was drifting slowly up toward the dock. There were three persons visible in the craft, two men and a woman. One of the men held the wheel while the other stood ready to leap out and fasten the boat when the dock was reached.

From where she crouched it was impossible for Nancy Drew to see the faces of the three persons. Darkness was fast enveloping the river, but there was still sufficient light for her to make out the figures distinctly. As her eye fell again upon the girl, she gave a little start. There was something familiar about her. If only she could see her face!