The Swami's Ring Read Online Free PDF
Author: Carolyn Keene
the end of the performance. To her delight, the rest of it went beautifully and uneventfully.
“I really enjoyed it,” Ned told Nancy as her eyes drifted to the musicians leaving the stage.
“That makes me very happy,” she replied, suddenly grabbing Ned’s hand.
“Gee, if I knew that’s all I had to say—”
“C‘mon, let’s go,” Nancy interrupted quickly. “I want to talk to Miss Pruett.”
Ned shook his head disconsolately. “And I thought this was going to be a detective-less evening,” he mumbled.
Nancy disregarded the comment as she asked an usher where the stage entrance was.
“Outside and to the left,” was the answer.
Without another word, the couple hurried toward the exit. Nancy did not even pay attention to the stares from the mayor and his wife as she passed in front of them. A minute or two more, and she and Ned were climbing a flight of steps to the musicians’ room.
“Miss Pruett!” Nancy called out to the young woman when she finally emerged.
The harpist glanced at Nancy with a fearful look in her eyes. “Yes?” she replied.
“I’m Nancy Drew, and this is my friend, Ned Nickerson—”
Noticing the programs in their hands, she asked, “Did you wish an autograph?”
“No—I mean, yes,” Ned replied, broadening his smile. He handed her a pen.
The young woman quickly scrawled her name. “You have lovely handwriting,” Nancy said.
Nonetheless, she observed a certain stiffness in the curve of the letters. Perhaps the performance had exhausted her, or, Nancy wondered, was she suffering from the strain of what had occurred earlier?
“Miss Pruett, I would like to ask you a few questions, if I may—about—” Nancy began.
“About the humiliating thing that happened to me?” the young woman replied, tears forming in her eyes. “There was no excuse—none!”
Nancy explained that she was an amateur detective who had a particular interest in the music festival because of her father’s association with it.
“It seems to us that someone must’ve deliberately turned all the pegs on your harp,” Ned declared.
Miss Pruett blinked her eyes as if trying to push the whole episode out of her mind.
“I appreciate your concern,” she said abruptly, “but I’d rather not talk about it now, if you don’t mind.”
“Will you be here tomorrow?” Nancy inquired.
“Yes, but I can’t stay after the performance,” the harpist said, adding nervously, “I have some errands to do. Now please excuse me. I must go.”
“But—” Nancy said, hoping to persuade her into granting an appointment.
The young woman walked away, however, and disappeared through a door at the end of the hall.
“She obviously doesn’t want our help,” Ned remarked.
“I have a hunch, though, that she really needs it,” Nancy replied.
7
The Sister’s Story
“Speaking of help,” Ned said, “I could use some myself.”
“You could?” Nancy replied, suddenly shifting her eyes to his.
He sighed, allowing the bewildered expression on Nancy’s face to grow into curiosity.
“Don’t keep me in suspense, Ned,” the girl detective said as they headed for the car.
But the boy was savoring the attention. “I’d rather you tell me all your news.” Ned chuckled.
“That’s not a fair answer,” Nancy said, somewhat hurt. “After all, we’re supposed to be friends, and you’re practically saying you don’t want my help.”
“I didn’t say that at all,” Ned retorted, suddenly wishing he had never started the conversation.
Nancy, in turn, settled into silence until they reached the newly opened diner.
“You might as well have said it,” she murmured finally.
“And you’re making a mountain out of a molehill,” Ned said, turning off the ignition.
The girl suddenly buried her face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I just overreacted because of Dad.”
“I don’t understand,” Ned said. “What do I have to do with your father?”
“You
“I really enjoyed it,” Ned told Nancy as her eyes drifted to the musicians leaving the stage.
“That makes me very happy,” she replied, suddenly grabbing Ned’s hand.
“Gee, if I knew that’s all I had to say—”
“C‘mon, let’s go,” Nancy interrupted quickly. “I want to talk to Miss Pruett.”
Ned shook his head disconsolately. “And I thought this was going to be a detective-less evening,” he mumbled.
Nancy disregarded the comment as she asked an usher where the stage entrance was.
“Outside and to the left,” was the answer.
Without another word, the couple hurried toward the exit. Nancy did not even pay attention to the stares from the mayor and his wife as she passed in front of them. A minute or two more, and she and Ned were climbing a flight of steps to the musicians’ room.
“Miss Pruett!” Nancy called out to the young woman when she finally emerged.
The harpist glanced at Nancy with a fearful look in her eyes. “Yes?” she replied.
“I’m Nancy Drew, and this is my friend, Ned Nickerson—”
Noticing the programs in their hands, she asked, “Did you wish an autograph?”
“No—I mean, yes,” Ned replied, broadening his smile. He handed her a pen.
The young woman quickly scrawled her name. “You have lovely handwriting,” Nancy said.
Nonetheless, she observed a certain stiffness in the curve of the letters. Perhaps the performance had exhausted her, or, Nancy wondered, was she suffering from the strain of what had occurred earlier?
“Miss Pruett, I would like to ask you a few questions, if I may—about—” Nancy began.
“About the humiliating thing that happened to me?” the young woman replied, tears forming in her eyes. “There was no excuse—none!”
Nancy explained that she was an amateur detective who had a particular interest in the music festival because of her father’s association with it.
“It seems to us that someone must’ve deliberately turned all the pegs on your harp,” Ned declared.
Miss Pruett blinked her eyes as if trying to push the whole episode out of her mind.
“I appreciate your concern,” she said abruptly, “but I’d rather not talk about it now, if you don’t mind.”
“Will you be here tomorrow?” Nancy inquired.
“Yes, but I can’t stay after the performance,” the harpist said, adding nervously, “I have some errands to do. Now please excuse me. I must go.”
“But—” Nancy said, hoping to persuade her into granting an appointment.
The young woman walked away, however, and disappeared through a door at the end of the hall.
“She obviously doesn’t want our help,” Ned remarked.
“I have a hunch, though, that she really needs it,” Nancy replied.
7
The Sister’s Story
“Speaking of help,” Ned said, “I could use some myself.”
“You could?” Nancy replied, suddenly shifting her eyes to his.
He sighed, allowing the bewildered expression on Nancy’s face to grow into curiosity.
“Don’t keep me in suspense, Ned,” the girl detective said as they headed for the car.
But the boy was savoring the attention. “I’d rather you tell me all your news.” Ned chuckled.
“That’s not a fair answer,” Nancy said, somewhat hurt. “After all, we’re supposed to be friends, and you’re practically saying you don’t want my help.”
“I didn’t say that at all,” Ned retorted, suddenly wishing he had never started the conversation.
Nancy, in turn, settled into silence until they reached the newly opened diner.
“You might as well have said it,” she murmured finally.
“And you’re making a mountain out of a molehill,” Ned said, turning off the ignition.
The girl suddenly buried her face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I just overreacted because of Dad.”
“I don’t understand,” Ned said. “What do I have to do with your father?”
“You