quickly, running toward a nearby downhill slope so they would not be seen.
But it was too late. From not far away came a loud shout. Angry words were hurled at them in English, and at Tony in Italian.
“Get out of here! I told you to stay away from this farm!”
Everyone turned to look. Rocco kept yelling. “You girls got no business here! Don’t come back or you’ll get hurt!”
So Rocco had recognized Nancy and Junie.
Without waiting to be caught by Mr. Rocco, Nancy and her friends fled down the hillside. They reached the car, jumped in, and sped off.
It was not until then that anyone spoke. Dan asked, “What are you going to do now?”
Nancy thought for a few moments while she caught her breath, and finally said, “I believe I should get in touch with Mr. Vincenzo Caspari. He should be home by now.”
“Who is he?” Dan asked.
“An acquaintance of my friend Ned Nickerson,” the young sleuth replied. “Ned gave me his address over the phone and thought perhaps he could help us. He’s a well-known painter.”
Junie and Dan thought this would be a good idea. Nancy went on to tell them that the man had been born in America but his parents had come from Italy. “No doubt Mr. Caspari speaks Italian. I understand he studied in Italy for several years.”
Dan grinned. “He probably speaks better Italian than I do! Perhaps he should talk to little Tony.”
“I think,” said Nancy, “that you did very well and got a lot of important information for us.”
“I’ll tell that to my Italian professor,” Dan replied. “Maybe he’ll give me a better grade!”
The university student said he must leave in order to attend a class later that day. He promised to return soon. “Call me if you need me,” he added.
As soon as he had gone, Nancy went to the phone and called Vincenzo Caspari. She introduced herself and said Ned Nickerson had suggested that perhaps the artist could help her solve a mystery posed by a puzzling group of pictures on a parchment. “They’re supposed to contain a great secret,” she concluded.
“That sounds most intriguing,” the artist replied. “Ned has told me that you like to solve mysteries. I presume there is more to this story than you’re telling me.”
“Oh, yes,” Nancy replied.
But before she could go on, the man interjected, “I can’t imagine how I might be able to help you. When I look at a picture, that is all I see—the composition, the color. I do not look for anything beyond that. It is up to the artist who painted it to reveal whatever hidden meanings he intended.”
“Please, Mr. Caspari,” Nancy said, “don’t say no until you’ve seen the parchment. I have no real proof my guesses are correct, but perhaps after you see the pictures, you can give me some clues that will help solve the mystery.”
“You flatter me,” Vincenzo Caspari said. “After all, I am only an artist, not a detective.”
Nancy said quickly, “You may find yourself becoming a sleuth before you know it!”
They exchanged a few more words before the artist consented to meet with the young detective. Nancy inquired if it would be possible for him to come over some time soon.
He replied, “I can make it tomorrow morning. Is that soon enough?”
“It would be wonderful,” Nancy told him. “What time shall we say?”
Ten o’clock was decided upon. The conversation ceased, and the artist hung up. Nancy did too, but she stood there, deep in thought. Finally she was interrupted by Junie, who was going outside to do some work.
“I want to see if that little fellow whose legs I massaged is getting along all right,” she said. “How about coming with me?”
Nancy was glad to. She had been wondering about the little black lamb herself. The girls hurried out to the barn where he was kept.
“I see several new lambs have been brought in since yesterday,” Junie remarked. “Oh, and here are twins.”
Two snow-white bundles of fur lay sound asleep together. Their
But it was too late. From not far away came a loud shout. Angry words were hurled at them in English, and at Tony in Italian.
“Get out of here! I told you to stay away from this farm!”
Everyone turned to look. Rocco kept yelling. “You girls got no business here! Don’t come back or you’ll get hurt!”
So Rocco had recognized Nancy and Junie.
Without waiting to be caught by Mr. Rocco, Nancy and her friends fled down the hillside. They reached the car, jumped in, and sped off.
It was not until then that anyone spoke. Dan asked, “What are you going to do now?”
Nancy thought for a few moments while she caught her breath, and finally said, “I believe I should get in touch with Mr. Vincenzo Caspari. He should be home by now.”
“Who is he?” Dan asked.
“An acquaintance of my friend Ned Nickerson,” the young sleuth replied. “Ned gave me his address over the phone and thought perhaps he could help us. He’s a well-known painter.”
Junie and Dan thought this would be a good idea. Nancy went on to tell them that the man had been born in America but his parents had come from Italy. “No doubt Mr. Caspari speaks Italian. I understand he studied in Italy for several years.”
Dan grinned. “He probably speaks better Italian than I do! Perhaps he should talk to little Tony.”
“I think,” said Nancy, “that you did very well and got a lot of important information for us.”
“I’ll tell that to my Italian professor,” Dan replied. “Maybe he’ll give me a better grade!”
The university student said he must leave in order to attend a class later that day. He promised to return soon. “Call me if you need me,” he added.
As soon as he had gone, Nancy went to the phone and called Vincenzo Caspari. She introduced herself and said Ned Nickerson had suggested that perhaps the artist could help her solve a mystery posed by a puzzling group of pictures on a parchment. “They’re supposed to contain a great secret,” she concluded.
“That sounds most intriguing,” the artist replied. “Ned has told me that you like to solve mysteries. I presume there is more to this story than you’re telling me.”
“Oh, yes,” Nancy replied.
But before she could go on, the man interjected, “I can’t imagine how I might be able to help you. When I look at a picture, that is all I see—the composition, the color. I do not look for anything beyond that. It is up to the artist who painted it to reveal whatever hidden meanings he intended.”
“Please, Mr. Caspari,” Nancy said, “don’t say no until you’ve seen the parchment. I have no real proof my guesses are correct, but perhaps after you see the pictures, you can give me some clues that will help solve the mystery.”
“You flatter me,” Vincenzo Caspari said. “After all, I am only an artist, not a detective.”
Nancy said quickly, “You may find yourself becoming a sleuth before you know it!”
They exchanged a few more words before the artist consented to meet with the young detective. Nancy inquired if it would be possible for him to come over some time soon.
He replied, “I can make it tomorrow morning. Is that soon enough?”
“It would be wonderful,” Nancy told him. “What time shall we say?”
Ten o’clock was decided upon. The conversation ceased, and the artist hung up. Nancy did too, but she stood there, deep in thought. Finally she was interrupted by Junie, who was going outside to do some work.
“I want to see if that little fellow whose legs I massaged is getting along all right,” she said. “How about coming with me?”
Nancy was glad to. She had been wondering about the little black lamb herself. The girls hurried out to the barn where he was kept.
“I see several new lambs have been brought in since yesterday,” Junie remarked. “Oh, and here are twins.”
Two snow-white bundles of fur lay sound asleep together. Their
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