The Scarlet Slipper Mystery by Carolyn Keene Page B

happened at the house the previous evening, and Hannah, who had entered the room, gave her version of the story.
    “Someone wanted me out of the way,” the lawyer said. “I can’t understand why I was sent so far away, though.”
    “Unless a person connected with the Fontaine case was in New York and followed you to see where you would go. Where did you spend the night?” Nancy asked.
    “At your Aunt Eloise’s,” her father answered. “We went to church this morning and had dinner before I left. I hope she won’t become involved in this.”
    Mr. Drew now asked what his daughter had been doing during his absence. She showed him the knife with the R on it. He examined it carefully but could not explain why a man who was not an artist should be carrying it.
    “Perhaps Henri might know a reason,” he suggested.
    Nancy telephoned him. When the young man answered, she said, “Scarlet.”
    “Scarlet here,” was the reply.
    Nancy told him about the knife in guarded tones, knowing the Cedar Lake phone was a party line, but Henri could not explain why anyone but an artist would use a palette knife.
    “This puzzle is too much for me,” said Ned, rising. “Let’s take a walk, Nancy.”
    She suggested that they call on Mrs. Parsons to tell her Millie Koff was returning to the charity show. The woman was delighted to hear the good news.
    “But, my dear,” she said, “this doesn’t mean we’re going to lose you! No, indeed, you’re going to stay in the show.”
    “I don’t understand, Mrs. Parsons,” Nancy answered.
    Mrs. Parsons said that Millie Koff would still dance in the performance. But another soloist had dropped out.
    “So you can do your dance in place of hers.” The woman chuckled.
    Nancy tried to beg off, but Mrs. Parsons took both of the girl’s hands in her own. “Please,” she begged, “take the part. You danced so beautifully the other day we must have you in the show.”
    Ned urged her to do so, and Nancy finally accepted. She said she expected her ankle to be all right in a couple of days and would then come to rehearsals.
    The following morning Nancy received a phone call from Mrs. Nickerson. Ned’s mother explained that due to the illness of a close friend who needed her help, she could not go to the dancing school that day. Nancy promised to take her place as receptionist.
    Bess arrived at about two o’clock, looking flustered and worried. Nancy asked what the trouble was.
    “Oh, I haven’t had one minute to look up anything about the history of the dance,” she said. “Nancy, you’ll just have to do that part for me.”
    Nancy said she would be happy to do it. Bess insisted that Nancy put on a ballet costume, so that she would look the part. To please her, the young detective did so.
    The first group of ballet students were very attentive to both the story and the dance lesson, and the two girls were delighted with their progress. As a younger group came in, Bess whispered that she was simply famished.
    “Nancy,” she said, “be a darling and keep talking to those girls while I run out for a soda.”
    “But how about the calorie count?” Nancy reminded the plump girl with a laugh.
    “Oh, just one soda won’t make any difference,” Bess insisted. She slipped a coat over her dancing costume and went down the stairway.
    Nancy helped the children into their leotards, then went into the practice room with them. They sat in a semicircle on the floor, with Nancy on a bench facing them.
    “Ballet is a very old dance form,” she began. “Classical ballet tells a story—happy, or sad, or exciting without the use of words. Nowadays we still tell stories or express emotions by dancing to appropriate music.
    “The great ballet artists know just what movements of the dance go with various types of music. Today let’s concentrate on interpretative dance. Susie,” said Nancy to a blue-eyed child, “I’ll put on a record and you dance whatever you think it might