The Hidden Window Mystery by Carolyn Keene

Alonzo would follow. Then she could compare his shoe with the paper pattern.
    But she was disappointed. The assistant did get up, but instead of going out the door, he turned and came directly to Nancy’s drawing board.
    “How do you like it?” she asked casually.
    Alonzo snorted. “Pretty bad,” he said. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, taking up Mr. Bradshaw’s time. Anyone can see that you’re no artist. Where did you get the idea you were?”
    Nancy was stunned for a moment by his sharp criticism. She decided, however, that he was still trying to discourage her from coming to the studio.
    Aloud she said, “I’ll see what Mr. Bradshaw has to say about it.”
    Alonzo Rugby’s eyes blazed. Before Nancy could stop him, he grabbed the sketch from the drawing board, crumpled it into a tight wad, and threw it forcefully across the room. It landed in the fireplace among ashes and half-burned logs!

CHAPTER IX
    Surprise Visitors
     
     
     
    “WHY, how dare you!” Nancy cried out, realizing her sketch was ruined. “You had no right to do that!”
    “Yes, I did,” Rugby said defiantly, his eyes snapping. “If you haven’t got sense enough to get out of here, then I’m the one to see you do!”
    Nancy was angry, but also elated. Rugby’s sudden rage had probably been caused by the sight of her peacock drawing.
    “It could even mean he thinks I know more than I do about the missing window!” she mused.
    Nancy pretended to calm down. “Maybe you’re right, Mr. Rugby. Suppose you show me some of your sketches for stained-glass windows.” Secretly she hoped they would give her a clue to justify her suspicions.
    “Very well,” Rugby replied haughtily. “But it won’t help you any in making sketches yourself. Either you’re born with talent or you’re not,” he added.
    He showed Nancy a portfolio of his drawings, all of which seemed mediocre to her. Apparently Mr. Bradshaw had engaged Rugby to help with the mechanical part of stained-glass windowmaking.
    After seeing all of the assistant’s pictures, Nancy was disappointed. There were no sketches of knights, horses, shields, or peacocks among them.
    “Thank you,” said Nancy. “I’ll try one more sketch before lunchtime.”
    As she went back to her drawing board, Mr. Bradshaw returned with several delphiniums of various shades of blue. He held them up for Nancy to see.
    “They’re gorgeous,” she said.
    “The window I’m working on,” Mr. Bradshaw told her, “will picture a garden of these.”
    For the next half hour only the ticking of the clock could be heard as the three artists worked assiduously. By that time Nancy had a new sketch finished. It portrayed Susan Carr in her rose garden.
    Mr. Bradshaw came over to look at it. He smiled broadly. “Now you’ve caught on, Nancy. This is excellent,” he said. “It has design, character, and good line structure, yet it is simple enough to make a good stained-glass window.”
    Out of the corner of her eye, Nancy looked at Alonzo Rugby. His face was scarlet, and he was casting angry glances in her direction.
    “I’m so glad you like it, Mr. Bradshaw,” Nancy said with a lilt in her voice, as if she were saying to Rugby, “See, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “The woman in this picture looks like Susan Carr. Is it?” Mr. Bradshaw asked.
    “Yes,” Nancy replied, and added, “Do you suppose you could help me make a small stained-glass window from this? I’d like to give it to my cousin.”
    “I think so,” the artist replied. “We’ll start tomorrow morning. I have to close shop now. I have an appointment in town.”
    Alonzo Rugby took off his lightweight slippers, tucked them into his coat pocket, and put on his shoes. Nancy sighed. There would be no chance to compare either pair of his shoes with the paper pattern of the footprint in the Carr garden.
    They all went out, and Mr. Bradshaw locked the door of the studio. Alonzo Rugby said good-by and strode off