The Sign of the Twisted Candles
pieces.”
    Nancy was puzzled. If Jemitt was stealing the chest, why bury it? Why not take it away and sell the contents?
    Jemitt dropped the box into the hole and dragged some logs over it from a nearby woodpile. Then he carefully scooped up all the earth dug from the hole, put it into his basket, and scattered it in the woods. Then he went toward the house.
    “There’s more going on at this place than one sees at a glance,” Nancy thought. “I’m sure Asa Sidney didn’t ask Jemitt to hide that chest.” She continued on downstairs.
    When Nancy reached the second floor, Carol was coming from one of the bedrooms. Evidently she had been waiting for Nancy.
    “Hello,” she said in a subdued voice.

    “He certainly acts suspicious,” Nancy thought
    Nancy sensed that Carol had something to tell her, but did not know how to begin. She gave the girl an opening.
    “Mr. Sidney must have decided very suddenly to make a new will,” she remarked.
    “Hush!” Carol whispered, looking cautiously about. “I didn’t say anything to Father or Mother Jemitt about it. I—I—Oh, Nancy, I’m so worried and upset.”
    “Why, Carol?” Nancy asked.
    “I wish I could get it all straight in my mind.” The girl sighed. “I love old Mr. Sidney. He’s so friendless and pathetic.
    “Last night, right after you left, a man came to see him—some relative who’s been here before, usually late at night, but Father would never let him go upstairs. But this time he went up, anyway. A little while afterward, another man came and he too insisted upon going up.
    “The most terrible argument broke out between the two men. We could hear them shouting way downstairs in the kitchen. Father Jemitt crept up and listened outside the door.
    “The arguments would die down and then break out again. After about an hour the second caller left. He caught Father Jemitt eavesdropping and scolded him terribly. A few minutes later the other man left, slamming the door behind him.”
    Nancy frowned. “Poor Mr. Sidney! No wonder he said he’d had a tempestuous night.”
    “Did you know,” Carol went on, “that there’s some kind of family feud between Mr. Sidney’s wife’s family and his own relatives?”
    “I suspected so,” Nancy replied, but did not give any details. “Go on with your story, Carol.”
    “Father Jemitt was very angry at having been discovered. When he came downstairs he ordered me to bed. But I could hear poor Mr. Sidney pacing the floor, so finally I went up to see him.
    “He said to me, ‘Carol, will you call Mr. Drew? I want to make a new will.’ He asked me to make the appointment secretly. I am—Oh, Nancy, I can’t tell you.”
    “Never mind, then. You must do as you are requested,” Nancy said. “But I wonder what Mr. and Mrs. Jemitt will think when they find out.”
    “Mother Jemitt left the house to walk to the bus right after you came,” Carol explained. “Father Jemitt gave me orders that he was not to be disturbed. He’s working out in the garage, making some repairs on our car.”
    “When will Mrs. Jemitt be home?” Nancy asked.
    “She is home!” said a harsh voice behind her.
    They shrank back in alarm. To Carol’s horror and Nancy’s surprise, the innkeeper’s wife had flung open the door of a nearby room. She held a hairbrush in her hand.
    “Carol, you nasty little tattletale!” the woman shouted. “You had better be more sure of my whereabouts before you start blabbing family affairs to strangers!”
    The angry woman thrust her scrawny neck out toward Carol and waved the brush menacingly.
    “I heard every word you said, you impudent brat! And as for you, young lady,” she said to Nancy, “the idea of your gossiping with this simple-minded girl is more than I’ll take!”
    Nancy leveled her calm blue eyes on the irate woman. For a moment Mrs. Jemitt faltered. Then, regaining her courage, the woman burst out again into a bitter tirade.
    “For six years we’ve worked and slaved to
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