Mystery of the Ivory Charm by Carolyn Keene

to go alone, she phoned Bess and George. Bess agreed to go but she would not enter the house. George was game for any adventure.
    Early one afternoon the three girls drove to the Allison property. Nancy parked as close as possible to the empty house, then circled through the woods toward the building. They emerged from among the trees.
    Nancy, who was in the lead, halted abruptly. Directly in front of the house, engaged in earnest conversation, stood a man and a woman.
    “It’s Anita Allison,” Nancy whispered. “But I don’t recognize the man. I wonder who he is?”
    The three young detectives drew near the old house, making no secret of their presence, yet approaching quietly. Mrs. Allison and her companion were so engrossed in their conversation that they did not observe the girls.
    “Your price, Mrs. Allison, is far too high,” the man declared firmly. “We’re willing to pay a fair sum for the place, but the amount you ask is unreasonable. As it stands, the property is useless to you, and in its present untended condition it is an eyesore to the community. If you sell to our firm you’ll be doing River Heights a favor by making possible a fine new golf course, and at the same time you will assure yourself of a handsome profit.”
    “The stars are not in a favorable position for a sale at his time, Mr. Bruce,” Mrs Allison said.
    Nancy reflected that this was not the realtor who had been at her father’s office.
    “The stars?” the man repeated impatiently. “What do you mean?”
    “I must have an omen. A favorable omen,” the woman replied.
    “That’s ridiculous,” Mr. Bruce snapped. “I never heard of such talk. This is a straight business deal.”
    “Your price is too low,” Mrs. Allison insisted.
    “You’ll never receive a better offer. Ask anyone if it isn’t a fair price. Consult Carson Drew—he knows the value of real estate.”
    “I’d rather consult the stars,” Mrs. Allison said dreamily.
    Mr. Bruce shook his head, baffled. Apparently he was at his wits’ end in dealing with this woman.
    “I must confess I’m at a loss to understand your attitude, Mrs. Allison. For the last time, will you accept my offer?”
    “I am sorry. I cannot consider it at the moment.”
    “I warn you, Mrs. Allison, you may not have another opportunity. I will give you until tomorrow to change your mind. If you do, telephone me at my real estate office—you know the name —John Bruce.”
    The dealer turned and walked away indignantly. As Mrs. Allison stood staring indifferently after the man, the girls hurried forward. Nancy spoke to her, but realized instantly that the woman did not recall her face.
    “I don’t believe you remember me,” Nancy remarked. “I am Nancy Drew—Carson Drew’s daughter.”
    “Oh!” Mrs. Allison exclaimed in a strained, tense voice. “Now I remember. I was interested in—”
    “A white ivory charm,” Nancy finished eagerly, hoping the woman would acknowledge her interest in it.
    She became aware that Mrs. Allison was no longer gazing at her. The misty brown eyes were fastened upon a faraway hillside, and a strange expression came over the woman’s face. As if in a trance she began to murmur, “The elephant—the sacred elephant. Yes, yes, we were speaking of it—Rai and I—the sacred elephant!”
    From a handsome white beaded bag, the woman removed a small gold-covered book. The girls could not take their eyes off it. They had never seen such a handsome volume. It was inlaid with semiprecious jewels spelling out the word “Sanskrit.”
    Nancy and her friends were further bewildered when Mrs. Allison began to chant sections from the tiny book in a musical voice. The passages she selected were elaborate, poetic translations.
    Bess plucked at Nancy’s sleeve, whispering nervously, “Let’s get away from here. That woman gives me the creeps.”
    “She has some sort of psychic obsession,” George added in an undertone.
    Nancy was equally disturbed by Mrs.