that Nancy was a lot like her, and secretly this gave her a thrill. Years before, when Nancy had lost her mother, Miss Drew had considered coming to live with her brother. But the private school where she taught, and in which she had a financial interest, needed her, too. When Hannah Gruen had proved so satisfactory, Miss Drew had decided to remain in New York. But she enjoyed her niece’s visits immensely.
“You look wonderful, Nancy!” she said as they embraced. “And how’s your father?”
“He’s fine,” Nancy replied, squeezing her aunt’s hand.
The luncheon hour was made particularly exciting by the young detective’s tale of the stolen potteries. At the end of the meal, Miss Drew readily agreed to Nancy’s suggestion that they taxi to Sen-yung’s Oriental Gift Shop.
Some time later their cab swung out of the heavy traffic on Madison Avenue and pulled up before the store. Nancy and her aunt stood outside a moment to admire the exotic and colorful Chinese potteries and jewelry, and odd pieces of Oriental bric-a-brac displayed in a large plate-glass window. Then they entered the shop.
Three men, one in deliveryman’s uniform, were talking at the rear of the store. One of them came forward as Nancy and her aunt entered.
Nancy hesitated. The name of the proprietor painted on the display window was Chinese, but the man who confronted her was not an Oriental.
“Is Mr. Sen-yung here?” she inquired.
The man shook his head regretfully. “Mr. Sen-yung has been at home ill for the past six weeks,” he informed her. “Is there anything I can do for you? I’m John Tallow, Mr. Sen-yung’s partner.”
“I’m sure you can help.” Nancy smiled. “Some time ago Mr. Townsend of River Heights purchased a lovely Ming vase here. I’d like to find out who sold you the vase.”
“Mr. Townsend?” the man repeated slowly. “Just a moment. I’ll look up the sale in my books.”
He went into an office at the rear of the store. As Nancy and her aunt wandered about, examining the beautiful jewelry and porcelain, Nancy could plainly hear the other two men talking. She realized at once that one was a detective. It was evident from their conversation that the deliveryman was the driver of the truck from which the Sung tea jar had been stolen.
“I didn’t get a good look at him,” she heard the deliveryman say. “I’d just lifted the jar out of the truck to deliver it when I felt a gun at my back. Then a voice told me to get in the truck and drive away.”
Nancy stepped forward. She apologized for the interruption and explained her interest in the case. The detective told her to ask as many questions as she wished, but there was little that the deliveryman could add to his story.
“The thief’s hat was pulled down and his coat collar turned up,” he said flatly. “I was too busy worrying about what he was going to do with the gun to look at him much. I did what he told me to do—left the jar on the sidewalk and scrammed!”
Nancy was disappointed not to learn more. At that moment she felt her aunt’s hand on her sleeve.
“Do come and look at this vase,” Miss Drew urged. “It sounds like the one you were talking about.”
She led her niece to a glass cabinet off to one side of the shop. Nancy stared in amazement at the piece on display. Glazed on jade-green porcelain was a Chinese dragon in black and red.
The same design she had seen woven into the tapestry in Mr. Soong’s home! The one he had said was on his stolen vase!
CHAPTER IX
Pursuit
NANCY hurried to the rear of the shop to find Mr. Tallow. Before she had a chance to ask about Mr. Soong’s vase, he gave her some startling information.
“The Townsend vase,” he told Nancy, “was sold to me by a Mr. David Carr.”
Nancy stared at him in disbelief. David Carr! That was the name of the man her father had mentioned; the man who had vanished so mysteriously in company with the Engs!
“You’re quite sure?”
“Quite.” Mr.
“You look wonderful, Nancy!” she said as they embraced. “And how’s your father?”
“He’s fine,” Nancy replied, squeezing her aunt’s hand.
The luncheon hour was made particularly exciting by the young detective’s tale of the stolen potteries. At the end of the meal, Miss Drew readily agreed to Nancy’s suggestion that they taxi to Sen-yung’s Oriental Gift Shop.
Some time later their cab swung out of the heavy traffic on Madison Avenue and pulled up before the store. Nancy and her aunt stood outside a moment to admire the exotic and colorful Chinese potteries and jewelry, and odd pieces of Oriental bric-a-brac displayed in a large plate-glass window. Then they entered the shop.
Three men, one in deliveryman’s uniform, were talking at the rear of the store. One of them came forward as Nancy and her aunt entered.
Nancy hesitated. The name of the proprietor painted on the display window was Chinese, but the man who confronted her was not an Oriental.
“Is Mr. Sen-yung here?” she inquired.
The man shook his head regretfully. “Mr. Sen-yung has been at home ill for the past six weeks,” he informed her. “Is there anything I can do for you? I’m John Tallow, Mr. Sen-yung’s partner.”
“I’m sure you can help.” Nancy smiled. “Some time ago Mr. Townsend of River Heights purchased a lovely Ming vase here. I’d like to find out who sold you the vase.”
“Mr. Townsend?” the man repeated slowly. “Just a moment. I’ll look up the sale in my books.”
He went into an office at the rear of the store. As Nancy and her aunt wandered about, examining the beautiful jewelry and porcelain, Nancy could plainly hear the other two men talking. She realized at once that one was a detective. It was evident from their conversation that the deliveryman was the driver of the truck from which the Sung tea jar had been stolen.
“I didn’t get a good look at him,” she heard the deliveryman say. “I’d just lifted the jar out of the truck to deliver it when I felt a gun at my back. Then a voice told me to get in the truck and drive away.”
Nancy stepped forward. She apologized for the interruption and explained her interest in the case. The detective told her to ask as many questions as she wished, but there was little that the deliveryman could add to his story.
“The thief’s hat was pulled down and his coat collar turned up,” he said flatly. “I was too busy worrying about what he was going to do with the gun to look at him much. I did what he told me to do—left the jar on the sidewalk and scrammed!”
Nancy was disappointed not to learn more. At that moment she felt her aunt’s hand on her sleeve.
“Do come and look at this vase,” Miss Drew urged. “It sounds like the one you were talking about.”
She led her niece to a glass cabinet off to one side of the shop. Nancy stared in amazement at the piece on display. Glazed on jade-green porcelain was a Chinese dragon in black and red.
The same design she had seen woven into the tapestry in Mr. Soong’s home! The one he had said was on his stolen vase!
CHAPTER IX
Pursuit
NANCY hurried to the rear of the shop to find Mr. Tallow. Before she had a chance to ask about Mr. Soong’s vase, he gave her some startling information.
“The Townsend vase,” he told Nancy, “was sold to me by a Mr. David Carr.”
Nancy stared at him in disbelief. David Carr! That was the name of the man her father had mentioned; the man who had vanished so mysteriously in company with the Engs!
“You’re quite sure?”
“Quite.” Mr.
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