Password to Larkspur Lane by Carolyn Keene Page A

neighbors’ yard, then down the driveway to the sidewalk.
    At the curb stood a beautiful convertible, its polished metal reflecting light from the street lamp several houses away. Despite their desperate hurry, Nancy felt a thrill of excitement.
    “My new car!” she whispered.
    As she reached it, a figure stepped from the shadows and her heart pounded. But a second later she relaxed.
    “Here are the keys, Mr. Drew,” said a deep voice.
    “Mr. French!” exclaimed the lawyer as he tossed the two bags into the back seat. “Many thanks. Sorry we’re in such a rush. Nancy’s old car is in front of our house. The keys are inside. Will you pick it up? Nancy can come tomorrow and change license plates.”
    “How beautiful this is!” Nancy said.
    She slipped into the driver’s seat and turned on the ignition. A deep purr came from the motor. At the same time, the young sleuth glanced into the rear-view mirror and saw headlights sweep around the corner.
    “I think they’re coming!” she said.
    The next instant her car was zipping forward. Nancy turned the corner and several more after that. Then she slid into a driveway and switched off the lights. A moment later the black sedan raced down the street and disappeared in the distance. Its license plate was dangling so she could not read the number.
    As Nancy gave a long sigh, Mr. Drew patted her hand. “You certainly used your head that time.”
    “Thanks, Dad.”
    She enjoyed the drive to the lake, sensing the power of the new car. Finally she said, “I loved my old car, Dad. It did a good job for me, but this one is just marvelous.”
    “Glad you’re pleased, Nancy. You certainly handle it like a pro.”
    At the lake the Comings welcomed the Drews cordially. Over cool drinks, the elderly couple reported that the houseman had not returned, nor had the circle of blue fire been seen that evening.
    “We’re still worried,” their hostess said. “Mr. Drew, it’s kind of you to lend Nancy to us.”
    He grinned appreciatively at the implied compliment.
    Presently Henry Durkin arrived. Mr. Drew quickly said good night to the Cornings, kissed Nancy, cautioned her to be very careful, and left for the airport.
    Shortly afterward, Mrs. Corning went with Nancy to the room with twin beds that she had occupied the night before. “Would you like your friends to be in here with you, Nancy?”
    “It would be nice.”
    “Then we’ll put in a cot tomorrow morning.”
    As Nancy unpacked, her thoughts turned to the missing servant. Since the fiery circle had not appeared after he vanished, possibly it had been a signal to Morgan to leave. But why?
    “Did he go willingly?” Nancy wondered.
    She hoped the next day would bring news of him. But there was no letter in the morning mail nor a phone call. Nancy was inclined to think he had not left of his own volition, but had been forced to go.
    Mrs. Corning looked through her letters. “I have one from Brent’s Department Store,” she said. “A dress I ordered has come in. I’d like to pick it up.”
    Nancy quickly volunteered to take her to River Heights. “I must turn in the dealer’s plates on my car and get my own,” she said. “Also, I have an errand at the jeweler’s.”
    Helen’s grandmother accepted the ride. While she was in Brent’s, Nancy went to see if Mr. Stone had learned anything about the crest on the gold bracelet.
    “I was going to call you,” the jeweler said, taking her into his office. “I heard from Abelard de Gotha today.” Mr. Stone handed Nancy a typewritten letter. “Read this.”
    “Dear Mr. Stone:
    The armorial bearings described in your letter are those of the Eldridge family, the crest dating back to Henry IV of England, and the quartering on the shield marking the union of the Eldridge house with the Gerrets in 1604.
    At the time of the Louisiana Purchase, the New York branch of the family, consisting of Isaiah Eldridge, his wife Prudence and two children, received a large grant of