The Sign of the Twisted Candles by Carolyn Keene

investigate.
    “What’s the trouble?” he asked.
    “No trouble at all, thank you,” Mrs. Jemitt said. “Just a little misunderstanding.”
    Nancy spoke up. “I happened to see Mr. Jemitt pass an envelope through the window to his wife, and thought it might—er—be for Mr. Sidney.”
    Her announcement took Mrs. Jemitt completely by surprise. In her agitation she dropped the envelope, and Nancy swiftly scooped it up.
    “There is a misunderstanding,” she said. “This letter is for Mr. Sidney.”
    “I was just going to take it up to the old gentleman,” the woman said.
    “Then I apologize for detaining you.” Nancy smiled. “I see it’s from the Midwestern Mining Company.”
    Without another word Mrs. Jemitt took it and hurried upstairs. Nancy, with a wink at her father, followed to be sure it was delivered.
    When she came down, Mr. Drew said, “My business here is finished. Let’s go!”
    As they walked to the car, he continued, “You’ve just given me some very valuable information, Nancy. Among Mr. Sidney’s assets are shares of stock in the mining company. The old man thought they were worthless because he had received no dividends in several years.
    “I promised to investigate,” the lawyer said, “because I have some of that stock myself and it pays well. I’m sure that envelope contained a dividend check because I’ve just received one.”
    “Then you suspect the Jemitts of taking Mr. Sidney’s dividend checks and forging the endorsements on them?” Nancy asked as they rode along.
    “I’m afraid so,” Mr. Drew replied. “It will take time to prove it, though.”
    “While you’re doing that,” said Nancy, “I’ll start my search in the house for cupboards marked with the sign of a twisted candle,” She slid into the driver’s seat.
    Mr. Drew got out of the car at his office. Nancy, excited by the prospect of going back to the Sidney mansion with Bess and George, went directly to the Marvin home. To her dismay, she saw Peter Boonton’s car at the curb.
    “Oh dear! I don’t want to meet him,” she thought. “Maybe I’d better drive over to the Faynes’ and see if George is there.”
    As she sat debating, Nancy suddenly saw George look out a window directly at her. To Nancy’s surprise George did not wave; just stared, then moved out of sight.
    “How strange!” Nancy thought. “Something seems to be on George’s mind. I’m sure she saw me.”
    Nancy decided to try seeing the girls, anyway, and tell them of Asa Sidney’s request. She walked to the door.
    Bess answered the bell. “Hello, Nancy,” she said, stepping outside and closing the door behind her. “Great-Uncle Peter’s inside. I hear you were at The Sign of the Twisted Candles again today.”
    Nancy nodded. “That’s what I want to talk to you about, Bess. Call George, will you? I have some exciting things to tell you, and we must go out there tomorrow.”
    “Oh, I don’t think I care to come,” Bess replied. “And I’m sure George wouldn’t be interested, either.”
    Nancy flushed with disappointment and embarrassment at Bess’s cool retort.
    “I—I’m sorry,” she said with a lump in her throat. “Dad has been retained as Mr. Sidney’s lawyer, and I’ve been given a job too. Some problems have come up. We’d have fun tackling them together.”
    “Oh, so your father is really taking sides in the case, is he?” Bess asked frigidly. “I’m sorry, Nancy, but I must go back inside.”
    Stung by the snub, Nancy ran to her car and drove away, tears brimming in her eyes. What sinister influence in the bitter Boonton-Sidney feud had brought Bess and George to a point of breaking off a lovely friendship?
    Nancy drove on and on, lost in thought. Suddenly she realized that the road she had subconsciously chosen led to the Sidney mansion.
    “Maybe fate is steering me back there,” the young sleuth told herself.
    When she arrived at the turn and walked in, no one was around. The Jemitts’ car was