The Hidden Window Mystery Read Online Free PDF

“we must try to help the person!”
    “But how,” Bess questioned, “when we can’t even get inside the place?”
    Nancy was stymied. The screech had sounded somewhat like a screaming tomcat, but more foreboding.
    “I believe I know what that sound may have been,” she said. “A peacock!”
    “What makes you think so?” George asked.
    Nancy explained that she had read a lot about peacocks after she had decided to look for the old stained-glass window. “From the description of the bird’s screech, it would sound like that.”
    Bess, who was not convinced, thought they should report the matter to the police. “I’m going back to the car,” she declared.
    Nancy and George wanted to do some more sleuthing. They continued along the path, which led all the way to Eddy Run. To their disappointment, the brick wall was as high across the water side of Cumberland Manor as the section they had just seen. It contained no opening. Finally they gave up and returned to the car.
    On the way to Mr. Bradshaw’s studio, they passed another estate. Apparently it had once been an attractive place, but now it showed signs of neglect.
    “There’s the name,” said Bess. “Ivy Hall.”
    About half a mile beyond was the entrance to Waverly. A roadway wound among well-kept lawns and fields. As they neared a rambling farmhouse, Nancy spotted a sign with an arrow that indicated Mark Bradshaw’s studio was at the rear of the property.
    Nancy continued down a lane. To the left of it were lovely flower gardens and to the right a dense woods. A short distance from Eddy Run and standing under the branches of a giant spreading oak was the studio. It was a long, brick building almost completely covered with English ivy.
    As Nancy parked, the studio door opened. A thin man in his late forties, wearing a smock and horn-rimmed glasses, came outside.
    “How do you do,” he said in a low vibrant voice.
    After introductions, Nancy told him they were interested in stained-glass windows, and had learned a little about the art from Mr. Atwater, who had a studio near them in River Heights.
    Mr. Bradshaw invited them into the studio. “Is there something in particular you wish to know?”
    Quickly Nancy explained about the article in Continental and asked if he had heard about it. When he said no, she gave him the details. Then she added that Susan Carr had suggested they come to him.
    “The Carrs are very nice people and I would certainly like to help you,” the artist said.
    “Perhaps you could tell us where some of the famous works of stained-glass art are located in this area,” Nancy suggested.
    Mr. Bradshaw shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I’m not too well versed on that. But I would be glad to tell you about the art itself. The more you know of the process, the better able you’ll be to recognize the genuine article if you find it.
    “Actually, a stained-glass window is a translucent mosaic held together by lead. But the lead between the sections is not just a fancy glue. It plays a real part in the design.”
    “The leading is almost the last thing that is done, isn’t it?” Nancy asked.
    “Almost,” the man replied. “The final step is the cementing, which holds the leading and the glass together.”
    “Would you mind explaining the cutting table, Mr. Bradshaw?” George requested.
    “Why, certainly,” the artist said. He led the way to one of two benches, which stood at the far end of the room. Each was solidly built and had a thick plate-glass top. “This,” he explained, ensures a constantly flat surface, which is of utmost importance in the cutting process.”
    Beneath it a large mirror was tilted diagonally from the front edge of the table to the back of a shelf below. A brilliant light on the mirror was helpful to the cutter when he worked with dark glass.
    “And this,” said Mr. Bradshaw, picking up an odd-looking tool, “is a wheel glass cutter. The square-grooved sections have the funny name of nibbling