The Message in the Hollow Oak Read Online Free PDF Page B

Nancy asked him.
    Clem said he would not be able to for another three days and he did not know of anyone else who might take Nancy around on her search.
    “Anyway,” said Julie Anne, “I won’t be able to leave the dig.”

    “He’s spying on us!” Nancy exclaimed
    Nancy was disappointed over the delay. But in the meantime she would try to find out about the helicopter pilot and who his passenger was.
    Clem took a shortcut back to the dig. The girls thanked him for the trip and said they would expect him in three days.
    As Clem drove away, Nancy thought, “I’ll have to figure a way to get to town so I can find out about that copter.”
    It was nearly suppertime and the diggers had stopped work. Nancy and Julie Anne found the other girls preparing a wholesome meal. Meanwhile, the bovs were cleaning the artifacts and fossils which they had discovered at the bottom of a new pit.
    All of them were eager to hear what progress Nancy had made on her case. She related the details, including Clem’s story about the catfish. The others laughed and Art burst into a song from the opera Porgy and Bess about Catfish Row.
    When he finished, Nancy announced, “I’d like to drive some place to make a phone call. I forgot to ask Clem if he has a telephone.”
    Art spoke up. “I have a two-seater motorcycle here,” he told her. “I’ll be glad to take you to town.”
    “That’s wonderful,” Nancy said. “Could we go tomorrow morning?”
    “You bet,” he said. “But it will have to be early. My shift begins at ten A.M.”
    “Where do you think the pilot came from?” Nancy asked him.
    Art said there was a small airfield outside the town of Walmsley, the nearest one to the dig.
    They had a very early breakfast and left the dig site at seven o’clock. Art drove directly to Walmsley and went on to the airfield which was about three miles out of town.
    When they arrived Nancy stepped into the office and asked who owned the helicopter with the license number she had copied on her pad. She showed it to the man in charge.
    “Oh, that’s Roscoe Thompson,” he replied. “Is he around now? I’d like to speak to him,” Nancy said.
    Thompson was at the end of the field checking his helicopter. Nancy and Art walked over to him.
    Roscoe proved to be a very pleasant young man and gladly answered Nancy’s questions. His passenger the day before had been a man named Tom Wilson.
    “Where does he come from?” Nancy questioned.
    “I really don’t know. He didn’t talk much. Said he wanted to make the trip over the site of the various Indian burial mounds. Mr. Wilson was interested to learn their locations because he’s an amateur archaeologist.
    “By the way,” Roscoe went on, “Mr. Wilson was very curious about two girls and a man who were hacking at an oak tree. Was one of them you?”
    “Yes,” Nancy admitted. “Why did your passenger want to know what I was doing?”
    “He didn’t say.”
    Roscoe asked Nancy if she would like to speak to Tom Wilson. When she said Yes, the pilot told her he expected the man to arrive at the airfield about midmorning.
    “I’ll introduce you,” he said.
    This was just what Nancy wanted! She turned to Art, “Could you possibly stay a little longer?”
    The archaeology student shook his head. “Sorry, but a promise is a promise. I must be back at the dig by ten. Several of us are working on a certain section and each one of us has a particular task.”
    “I understand,” Nancy said.
    Seeing Nancy’s look of disappointment, Art said, “Maybe this Tom Wilson will get here before ten. I can give you a half hour. In the meantime I’ll run into town and pick up some food supplies.”
    Nancy was grateful. “I’ll make a few phone calls. If Mr. Wilson should arrive, will you let me know?” she asked Roscoe.
    “Will do.”
    The young detective hurried to a phone booth alongside the airfield building. She called her home, hoping her father would still be there, but he had already