Transcription
The Nancy Drew Files 6White Water TerrorCarolyn Keene
TABLE OF CONTENTSChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveChapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter One“YOU’VE GOT TO be kidding,” BessMarvin said. She looked up from her seatin Nancy Drew’s bedroom, where shewas polishing her long, delicate nails.“I’m not going on any wilderness trip!”“But, Bess, you’ll love it,” counteredher cousin George Fayne.Sitting cross-legged on her bed, NancyDrew was engrossed in a puzzle andtrying to block out the sound of her bestfriends’ voices. The more difficult thepuzzle, the better Nancy liked it. Thinkinghard kept her mind limbered up for hermore challenging work as a detective.“Really, Bess, you will love it,” Georgesaid again, seeing her cousin roll her eyes.
“Lost River, the mountains, the trees, thebirds—they’re all yours, just for sittingcomfortably in a rubber raft for a coupleof days. You probably won’t even have topaddle. The river will do all the work.”“I’ll loathe it!” Bess exclaimed with ashudder. “Nancy,” she implored, “tellGeorge that this time she’s really gonelooney tunes.”Nancy put down her puzzle and lookedat her friends. George, who had just comefrom her regular three-mile afternoon jog,was wearing a blue-and-green running suitthat emphasized her athletic wiriness andmade her look ready for anything. Whitewater rafting was exactly the kind of thingthat would turn George on. She loved anychallenge. That was what made her so
valuable to Nancy.At the same time, rafting was exactly thekind of thing that would turn Bess off. Atthe moment, for instance, she was wearinga pair of tight purple stirrup pants and anenormous gauzy shirt, cinched with a thingold belt. Her long, straw-colored haircurled loosely around her shoulders. Itwasn’t that Bess was afraid of adventure,and it wasn’t that she was terribly lazy.She was just . . . well, Bess liked to dothings the easy way. Maybe she was a bittimid, but she always enjoyed being wherethings were happening—and things alwayshappened with Nancy around.Nancy folded her arms and looked fromone friend to the other with a grin. “Okay,George, start from the beginning,” she
said. “Tell us just how you managed to getfour places on this rafting expedition. Andwhere is Lost River, anyway?”“I told you,” said George, her dark eyesgleaming with excitement, “I don’t evenremember entering the contest. Maybe Idid it when I bought those jogging shoes atthe sporting goods store a couple ofmonths ago. I vaguely remember filling outan entry blank for some sort of contest.Anyway, I got this letter yesterday fromsomebody named Paula Hancock, whoowns White Water Rafting, notifying methat I’d won the grand prize in thisnational contest. Four places on a whitewater raft trip down Lost River, in themountains of northwest Montana. They’reeven offering free plane tickets to Great
Falls—the nearest city.”“Did the letter say anything about thekind of trip it might be?” Nancy asked. “Imean, there are rivers and then there arerivers,”“According to the letter, Lost River isthe ultimate white water challenge, full ofrapids and falls. What a terrific vacation—and free, too. Anyway, we need avacation,” George said emphatically.“We’ve been working too hard.”Bess put the cap on her nail polish andshook her head. “George, you’re crazy,”she said. “Going rafting down some wildmountain river is no vacation—it’s sheertorture!”Nancy thought back to her last case, Hitand Run Holiday, a Florida “vacation”
that had nearly gotten her killed. She hadcome to realize the importance ofspending relaxed time with her friends.“We do need a break,” she said.“Yes,” Bess said, brightening. “You’reabsolutely right, Nancy. But what we needis a break, not a breakdown. I vote for along weekend at the beach. I know wewere just in Fort Lauderdale, but whathappened there certainly wasn’t avacation. I want to do nothing but lie in thesun and baste ourselves with tanninglotion. And when we’re tired of the beach,we can go shopping.” She threw Nancy ahopeful glance.“Shopping!” George hooted, springingto her feet. “All you ever want to do is goshopping, Bess Marvin. Don’t you have a
larger purpose in life?”Bess looked at George calmly. “Ofcourse I do,” she said with a twinkle inher eye. “Going out with a good-lookingboy, for one. Or eating,” she added.George shook her head. “Funny. Ha,ha,” she replied.Nancy climbed off the bed and went tothe window, where she stood looking outat the soft summer drizzle that was falling.A river trip might be fun, but she couldsee Bess’s point. A beach vacation, a realone, would be relaxing, and baking underthe hot sun on the shores of Fox Lakemight be just the thing to take her mind offthe detective business. But there wassomething else to think about. “You sayyou won a trip for four people?” she
asked George again.George nodded.“Well, then, how about inviting Ned togo along?” Ned Nickerson was Nancy’slongtime boyfriend. He was away atsummer school just then, at EmersonCollege, and Nancy missed him. She hadthe feeling that her friendship with Nedcould be the most important relationshipin her life—if she could just make a littlemore time for it. But Ned, who had alwaysbeen the most understanding guy on earth,seemed to be getting a little impatient withher. Nancy couldn’t forget that during theircase at Flash magazine, Ned had becomeinvolved with another girl. That hadn’tlasted long, but . . .The raft trip might be exactly the kind of
thing to give the two of them plenty ofrelaxed, fun time together.Nancy turned away from the windowand continued thinking out loud. “Didn’tNed go on a couple of white water tripswith his uncle a few years ago? He’dprobably be a big help in case of anemergency or something.”“Emergency?” Bess went pale. “Like—like the raft tipping over?”George looked at her scornfully. “Raftsdon’t ‘tip over,’ dummy. They capsize.”Bess turned a shade paler.“Rafts don’t capsize, either,” Nancysaid, patting Bess comfortingly on theshoulder. “They’re too stable.” Shestretched and yawned. “Listen, Bess, ifyou want a vacation at the beach, go for it.
But I’ve never been white water rafting,and it sounds like fun to me—if Ned cancome along.” She turned to George.“Sure,” George said enthusiastically.“Yeah. Ask Ned. We’ll have a great timewith him.” She cast a sideways glance atBess. “And with all the other boys.”“What other boys?” Bess asked.“Are you kidding?” George replied.“The letter said there are six other kidscoming along on the trip. Probably boys.”She paused. “Rugged, masculine, plaidshirted boys with broad shouldersand . . .”“Well . . .” Bess said indecisively.“Oh, come on,” Nancy said. “It’ll begreat.”“Boys,” George teased.
“Okay,” Bess agreed. “I’ll come.”“Bess Marvin has agreed to go whitewater rafting with you and George?” Nedsaid incredulously. He propped his feet upon Carson Drew’s favorite ottoman.Nancy’s father was an internationallyknown criminal lawyer. He had taughtNancy a great deal of what she knewabout detective work. At the moment, hewas on one of his frequent trips, this oneto the Middle East. Nancy missed him, butshe wasn’t alone. She had Hannah Gruen,t h e Drews’ longtime housekeeper, whohad been like a second mother to Nancysince the death of Nancy’s real mother.Nancy glanced at Ned. He was home forthe weekend, and she was glad to see him.
She was enjoying their cozy evening in theden watching TV.“How’d you ever talk Bess into it?”Ned asked. “Lost River must be hundredsof miles from the nearest NeimanMarcus.”Nancy dipped into a bowl of popcornthat Hannah had made for them beforeshe’d gone to bed. “It wasn’t easy,” sheadmitted. She looked at Ned. He waswearing his light brown hair a little longerthan usual and his face was darkly tanned.She wondered if he had been spendingtime at the college swimming pool—and ifso, whether he’d been alone or . . .She put her hand on his arm. “Howabout you?” she asked softly. “Could I talkyou into a white water trip?”
“Me?”“Yeah, you. As in you and me. AndGeorge and Bess, too, of course.”Ned pretended to look stunned. “I—Ihardly know what to say. This is all sosudden. I . . .” Grinning, he ducked thepillow that Nancy tossed at him. “Yeah,sure, I’ll go, Nan. Summer school will beover next week, and I won’t have anythingelse to do.”“Well, I must say you don’t sound allthat wild about it.”Ned’s grin faded. “I guess I’m justsurprised,” he said quietly. “Let’s face it,Nancy. We’ve seen each other only two orthree times in the last couple of months,and even then I was taking you away fromyour detective work—from something I
felt you’d rather be doing. In fact, during acouple of your recent cases, I’ve gottenthe idea that I wasn’t a very important partof your life. We’ve patched things up, butwho can tell whether the patch is going tobe permanent? After all, maybe you’vechanged in the way you feel about me.”Nancyswallowedpainfully,remembering how she had felt during theFlash case when she had seen Nedholding Sondra in his arms, when they hadlearned that Sondra’s brother Mick was introuble. “I guess that’s a logicalconclusion,” she said, “but it’s not theright one. I know I’ve been awfully busy,but that doesn’t mean you’re not importantto me, Ned.” She leaned back against thesofa pillows and clasped her hands behind
her head. “You’re so important to me thatI can sort of relax knowing you’ll bearound, without having to worry about it awhole lot.”Ned leaned toward her and touched hercheek with the tip of his finger. There wasa slight smile on his lips. “What you’resaying is that you’ve been taking me forgranted. Is that it?”Nancy nodded regretfully. “I guess so.Maybe that’s why I was so ready to acceptGeorge’s offer of the raft trip. I think weneed time together so you can help mefigure out all over again just why it is Ilove you so much.”“We don’t have to wait until we get toMontana for me to start working on thatassignment,” Ned said softly. He leaned
closer and put his arms around her. “Letme give you a couple of reminders.” Hekissed her tenderly, then kissed her again.“Got it figured out yet, Detective Drew?”Nancy relaxed into his arms. “No, notyet,” she said. “Why don’t you try again?When it comes to love, I’m a very slowlearner.”At that moment, the telephone rang.Nancy sighed. “Somebody’s got awfullypoor timing,” she said as she lifted thereceiver.“Nancy Drew?” The voice on the otherend of the line was low and muffled.“Yes?” Nancy said slowly, sensing thatsomething was wrong.The next words struck her with an icycoldness. Her stomach twisted into a
frigid knot. “The trip your friend won isno prize,” the voice said ominously. “Ifyou know what’s good for you, you’ll stayhome—and stay alive!”
Chapter Two“WHAT’S STILL NOT clear to me,”Nancy told George and Bess the next day,leaning across the table at Bennie’s IceCream Parlor, “is whether the phone call Igot last night was a warning or a threat. Imean, I couldn’t tell from the tone of voicewhether the caller meant to threaten mewith harm or keep me from getting hurt.”She chewed her lip, puzzled. “I couldn’teven tell whether the voice was female ormale.”George dug into her favorite chocolatemint ice-cream sundae. “Why in the worldwould anybody want to keep you fromgoing on the trip?” she demanded. After amoment’s hesitation, she turned to Bess.
“That phone call . . . it wasn’t you, wasit?” she asked suspiciously.Bess looked hurt. “I went to a concertlast night and didn’t get back until aftermidnight. Anyway, you know I wouldn’tdo something that ridiculous. If I wantedto keep you or Nancy from going on thetrip, I’d try to convince you in person.”George sighed. “I know. Sorry.”Nancy took the last bite of her bananasplit, watching George intently. “Are yousure you’ve told us absolutely everythingyou know about the contest?”“All I know is what’s in that letter fromPaula Hancock. I’ve tried and tried toremember exactly when I entered thecontest, but I can’t.”Bess smiled mischievously. “Well,
then, maybe it would be better if we didn’tgo.” She pushed her half-finished dietdrink away, looking with longing atGeorge’s sundae. “The beach is awfullynice at this time of year.”Nancy looked at George. In the back ofher mind was the growing conviction thatthere was something not right about thecontest. But the phone call and George’sinability to recall entering it were her onlyclues.“I don’t suppose you’d reconsider yourdecision to go?” Nancy asked halfhopefully. “Maybe we could find anotherwhite water rafting trip, if you’ve got yourheart set on that. There must be others thatwould be just as exciting.”“Yes, but this is a free trip,” George
reminded.Nancy and Bess exchanged long looks.“What about it, Bess?” Nancy asked.“Well,” Bess said reluctantly, “I’m notexactly thrilled by the idea of spendingtwo whole days hanging on to a raft,getting drenched by icy water, andbouncing from one rock to another. But Ihate to think of you out there on the riverwith some kook who makes weird phonecalls.” She shrugged. “You can count mein, I guess.”“That settles it, then,” Nancy said with agrin, laying her spoon beside her emptydish. She felt good remembering that thethree of them had always stuck together,even in tough times. Whatever happened,they weren’t going to let George face the
trip alone. Besides, it was already shapingup to be a very interesting vacation. “LostRiver, here we come!” she exclaimed.“Where in the world do you suppose weare?” Bess asked from the backseat of therental car that Ned was driving. Sheleaned over and took the map out ofGeorge’s hands. “Here, let me have a lookat that map. Maybe I can find us.”Nancy leaned precariously over thefront seat. “The road just made anotherleft turn back there,” she said, pointing tothe small hand-printed map that Bess washolding.“Well, what do you think, Bess?” Nedasked, braking suddenly and twisting thewheel to avoid a granite boulder that had
tumbled off a cliff and lay in fragments inthe road. “Are we taking the right route?”“It looks like we are,” Bess said,grabbing frantically for the armrest as thecar lurched sideways and threatened to gointo a skid. “But who cares? The mapdoesn’t have any route numbers oranything. If this is all we have to go on,Lost River is likely to stay lost.” Shethrust the map back at George. “Youknow, it’s almost as if whoever drew thismap wants us to spend the whole morningwandering around in the mountains.”“I hate to admit it, but Bess may havesomething there,” George said, staring atthe map with a puzzled frown. “Andanother thing. I can’t figure out whynobody met us at the airport yesterday, the
way the letter promised. You’d think that acompany big enough to run a nationalcontest would arrange to meet the grandprize winner when she got off the plane.”Nancy nodded. “I wondered about thatmyself. What a start for a vacation!”Actually, Nancy thought as she settledback into the car seat, it hadn’t even begunto feel like a vacation yet. The four ofthem had rushed to the airport but waitedseveral hours for a flight from Denver thatwas so bumpy it would have made aneagle airsick. In Great Falls, there wasnobody to meet them—only an envelopecontaining a hand-drawn map. Scrawledon the bottom were unsigned instructionsto pick up a rental car and drive to LostRiver Junction that night.
But by the time a car was available, itwas late. They had spent the night at theonly place they could find—a motel nextdoor to the airport, where jets seemed toplow through the bedrooms every hour onthe hour. Dragging themselves out of bed,they were on the road by five o’clock—anxious to get to Lost River Junctionbefore the rafts left at nine.“Well,” Ned said, rolling down thewindow and taking a deep breath, “nowthat we’re here, I’m glad. Smell those pinetrees. What a wilderness this is!”I t was a wilderness, Nancy thought.They hadn’t seen a sign of civilization formiles. For the last half hour, the narrowtwo-lane asphalt road had twisted andturned upward into the mountains like a
mountain-goat trail. At the moment it waszigzagging precariously across the face ofa vertical rock cliff.Above the cliff and on the other side ofthe creek, huge pine and spruce treesreached toward the clear blue Montanasky.Even though it was the middle of July,the breeze was cool and brisk andinvigorating, not at all like the steamy,oven-hot summer weather they had leftback home.Nancy stretched and filled her lungswith the clean air. In spite of everything,she was glad they had come. She glancedat Ned’s calm profile and his sturdy,capable hands on the steering wheel. Shewas glad to be with him. With Ned along
to help her laugh, the trip hadn’t seemednearly so bad.Bess looked out the window. “I supposethere are wild animals out there,” she saidin a worried tone.“Right,” agreed Ned. “Plenty of them.”He grinned at Bess in the rearview mirror.“Black bears and cougars and mountainlions and rattlesnakes.”With a little moan, Bess shut her eyestight and hunched down in the seat.“You know, I’m really getting worriedabout how late we are,” George said,glancing at her watch. “It’s after eighto’clock, and we’re scheduled to leave atnine. You don’t suppose they’d start thetrip without us, do you?”“I don’t think they’d leave without their
grand-prize winner,” Nancy consoled her.“They wouldn’t dare. After all, you arethe reason for this trip.” She hesitated. IfGeorge were the reason for the trip, whyhad Nancy received the mysterious phonecall?“Anyway, I’m just as glad things gotscrewed up with the rental car and that wedidn’t have to drive this road last night,”Ned said. “With all these twists and turns,it’s dangerous enough in broad daylight. Idon’t think we—”“Ned!” Nancy yelled. “Stop!”Just a few yards ahead of the frontbumper, the road vanished into thin air.Bess gasped.Ned jammed his foot on the pedal,making the brakes squeal. “Oh, no!”
George screamed. “We’re going over!”
Chapter ThreeTHE RENTAL CAR screeched aroundin a circle before skidding erratically to ahalt. The four friends sat for a moment instunned silence, once again staring at thesheer emptiness ahead. The road wascompletely gone, carried down the cliffand into the ravine by a massiverockslide.“Ned!” Nancy exclaimed, her horrormixed with limp relief. “If you hadn’tstopped when you did . . .”“We’re just lucky it was daylight,” Nedsaid soberly.Shuddering, Nancy peered down intothe ravine where the slide had loosenedenormous boulders and huge gray slabs of
asphalt. “We would have been killed ifwe’d dropped down there!” She lookedaround. “Is everybody okay?”Bess rubbed her head. A bump wasbeginning to appear where she had hit herhead against the car window. “I think so,”she said in a dazed voice. “Good thing wewere wearing seat belts.”“But why isn’t there a barricade acrossthe road?” George asked, jumping out ofthe car and stepping cautiously to the edgeof the drop-off.“Maybe the slide just happened,” Nedsuggested.Nancy got out and looked around. “Idon’t think so,” she said. “There are signsof erosion down there, and even a fewweeds in the rubble. I’d say this road has
been out of commission for weeks, atleast.”Bess came to stand beside Nancy.“What’s that?” she asked, pointing tosomething orange half-hidden behind apile of brush a dozen yards below. “Isn’tthat a barricade?”George scrambled partway down theslope. “It is a barricade,” she called. “Itlooks as if somebody tried to hide it!”“You mean somebody tried to kill us?”Bess asked.Nancy frowned. “I don’t think we candraw that conclusion from the evidence,”she said slowly. “All we know is that theroad is out and the barricade is missing.”“That barricade was deliberatelyhidden,”Georgecorrectedher
breathlessly, climbing back up to the road.“There’s no way it could haveaccidentally gotten covered up under allthat brush.” She shivered. “You know,Nancy, as Ned was saving a few minutesago, if we’d driven up here last night afterdark—the way we were supposed to—wewouldn’t have stood a chance.”“That’s true,” Nancy said. “But wedon’t know that the barricade wasremoved just for our benefit. A road crewmight have come to inspect the slide andforgotten to put it back up.”“Well, maybe you’re right,” Bess said,looking pale and shaken. “But I don’tknow. Between this and your phone call,Nancy, the whole thing looks reallysuspicious.”
“You’re right,” Nancy agreed. “I’d saythat we have to be on our guard.”“In fact,” Bess said hopefully, “maybewe ought to reconsider.” She turned toGeorge. “Haven’t we already had enoughexcitement for one trip?”Ned had managed to turn the car around,and the girls got back in. “Well, whatnow?” he asked.Nancy looked at the others. “Do youwant to go back to Great Falls and take thenext plane home? Or do we keep trying tofind Lost River?”“I want to get to the bottom of thisthing,” said George. “And I’m stubborn. Idon’t want to give up my prize.” Shelooked around. “But just because I’mcrazy, doesn’t mean you all have to stay.
I’ll understand if anybody decides to goback home.”Bess heaved a sigh of resignation. “IfGeorge is staying, I guess I will, too.”Ned reached over and ruffled Nancy’shair. “I’m in this as long as you are, Nan,”he said.“In that case,” Nancy said briskly,“we’d better find an alternative route.This road isn’t going anywhere butdown.” She pulled a state highway mapout of the glove compartment and began tocompare it to the map they had been given.“I think I see how to get there,” shereported after several minutes. “Let’s goback to the last fork in the road and take aleft. Then it looks like we take two moreleft turns—we’ll be there in thirty or forty
minutes.”“You’re the detective,” Ned repliedcheerfully, and drove back down themountain.Thirty minutes later, they pulled up atLost River Junction, a small cluster ofweathered, tired-looking wooden shedshuddled under tall pine trees beside theroad. As Nancy got out of the car, she sawthat one of the sheds sported a crude signthat said White Water Rafting in crookedletters. The sign looked new, she noticed,in contrast to the old building. Down thehill, behind the building, she glimpsed agroup of people standing on the bank of ariver, next to two big rubber rafts.“Looks like we’ve made it—finally,”Ned announced, turning off the ignition.
“Fantastic!” George exclaimed. She gotout of the car, her concern about the tripmomentarily forgotten. “Listen to thatriver!”“I hate to tell you guys this,” Bessremarked, “but I hear roaring. Loudroaring.”“Right,” Ned said, opening the trunk andbeginning to pull out their gear. “Soundslike a pretty big falls not far away.”Grinning, he handed Bess her duffel bag.“That’s what white water rafting is allabout, you know, Bess. Water falling overthe rocks. It always makes a noise.”Bess took the bag, shaking her head.Nancy slung her backpack over hershoulder and followed George to theriver. She was wearing khaki-colored
safari shorts and a red knit polo shirt, asweatshirt tied around her neck. The sunfelt warm on her shoulders.“Hi!” George said, hailing a tall, thinfaced young woman who was standingbeside one of the rafts. “I’m GeorgeFayne. Can you tell me where to findPaula Hancock? She runs White WaterRafting.”The young woman looked up. Nancycouldn’t tell whether she was surprised tosee them. “I’m Paula,” the woman said.She was in her early twenties, Nancyjudged, wiry-thin and tense, like a nervousanimal. “You’re late. We expected youlast night.”George bristled. “Yeah. Well, youmight say that we’ve been victims of
circumstance. That map you left for us atthe airport took us on a wild-goose chase,and then we—”Nancy stepped in. “Then we got lost,”she interrupted smoothly, leaning herbackpack against a tree. She threw Georgea warning glance. There wasn’t any pointin alerting Paula Hancock to theirsuspicions. If she had anything to do withthe warning phone call or the missingbarricade, Nancy didn’t want to put her onher guard. “I’m Nancy Drew,” she said,holding out her hand and studying Paula.“George invited me to come along.”“Glad to have you,” Paula repliedbrusquely. She ignored Nancy’s hand. Shehad odd amber eyes, Nancy noticed, coldand remote.
Nancy shivered as though somebodyhad dropped an ice cube down her neck.“Have we . . . have we met?” she askedhesitantly. Those eyes—where had sheseen them?Paula straightened up. “I don’t thinkso,” she said more casually. “Not unlessyou’ve been up here before.”“No,” Nancy said. “This is my first tripto Montana.” She was sure she had nevermet Paula, but she couldn’t shake thefeeling that she knew those eyes.Paula turned to a dark, good-lookingyoung man in a faded blue denim workshirt and jeans, who was loading a radiointo one of the rafts. “Max, come and meetour grand-prize winner, Georgia Fayne.Max is an expert river-rafter,” she said,
turning back to George and Nancy. “He’llhandle one of our rafts. I’m taking theother.”“It’s not Georgia, it’s George,” Georgesaid, shaking Max’s hand. “This is myfriend Nancy. And Bess,” she added as theothers came up, “and Ned. We’re reallylooking forward to the trip. Ned’s been ona raft trip before, but the rest of us arenovices.”“Glad to meet you,” Max said. A long,hairline scar cut across the corner of hissquare jaw, giving him a lopsided look.He smiled at Bess as he shook her hand,his dark eyes glinting appreciatively.“Real glad.”Nancy looked at Max closely. Thevoice on the phone could just as easily
have been a man’s voice as a woman’s. Inher experience, it was better to considereverybody a candidate for suspicion. AndMax looked like a likely one. But then, sodid Paula. Since she was the owner ofWhite Water Rafting, she must have beenresponsible for the contest—and for thatkiller map. Nancy decided to watch bothof them closely.Paula glanced at the sleeping bags andpacks that Ned was carrying. “Go aheadand stow your gear in Max’s raft,” shecommanded. “The sooner we get started,the better.” She frowned at Max. “Did youcheck the batteries before you loaded theemergency radio?”Max nodded. “Sure thing,” he saidcarelessly. “Can’t be out on the river with
a radio we don’t trust, can we?”“Hi! Let me show you where to putthose.” A pretty girl walked over to Nedand took one of the sleeping bags fromhim. She was petite and willowy, and herash-blond hair swept softly over hershoulders. “I’m Samantha,” she told himin a soft southern drawl. “But my friendscall me Sammy.”“Well . . . sure,” Ned said, with a shrugand a quick glance at Nancy. He followedSammy to the raft. Paula went along, too,calling out instructions for stowing thegear.Nancy looked at George. “Maybe weshould meet some of the others,” shesuggested, pointing to a group of kidsstanding beside one of the rafts.
“Okay,” George said. “I’m lookingforward to—”George didn’t get to finish her sentence.Suddenly the air around them exploded ina series of sharp, staccato sounds, likegunshots fired in rapid succession.Somebody was shooting at them!
Chapter Four“GET DOWN!” NANCY yelled,pulling George with her in a wild dash forthe shelter of a nearby tree. The gunshotscontinued, echoing through the trees.Crouching low, Nancy waved franticallyat several other kids who were stillstanding beside the rafts, out in the open.“Get down!” she yelled. “Somebody’sshooting!”“Oh, come on,” one of the girls calledback. “That’s not a gun. It’s just Tod andMike shooting their dumb firecrackers.”The explosions stopped suddenly andthere was absolute quiet, except for thesound of the falls.“What?” Nancy stood up and looked
around. “Tod and Mike? Firecrackers?”“Those two clowns love practicaljokes,” the girl explained, coming over tothem with a smile. “Firecrackers under atrash can. They’ve been at it all morning.”The girl was short, thin, and dark-haired,and she had a nervous intensity thatreminded Nancy of Paula.Nancy let out the breath she’d beenholding. She felt her pulse slow down toits normal rate.“Hah! We sure scored one on you,didn’t we?” The boy who came running toNancy and George looked very pleasedwith himself. He was short and stocky andwore a pair of faded cutoffs and a plaidflannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up.“I’m Tod. And this is Mike.” He pointed
to the boy who had followed him over.The accomplice was tall and thin, his legslooking like pipestems in his frayedcutoffs.“Listen, you guys, I don’t think it wasfunny at all,” George protested, comingout from behind the tree. “You scared usto death!”But Nancy just said mildly, “Yeah, yousure scored one. We were pretty scared.”We r e Tod and Mike really immatureenough to think it was funny to frightenpeople like that?“Well, I’ve got to say this,” Mikeobserved, looking at Nancy appraisingly.“You sure think fast and act fast—for agirl.” He grinned and shuffled his feet.Maybe, thought Nancy, he was shy.
The dark-haired girl spoke up. “I’mMercedes.” She pointed to two otherswho had come up behind her. “This isLinda and this is Ralph. I guess you’vealready met Sammy,” she added, lookingtoward the raft, where Sammy wasstanding close to Ned, talking animatedlywith him.Nancy followed her glance. “Yes,” shesaid wryly, wondering if Sammy wasgoing to be another Sondra—or worse.“We’ve already met Sammy. She seemsvery . . . friendly. And helpful.”“Yeah, that’s Sammy, all right.” Todnudged Mike. “Very friendly. And veryhelpful.”Linda was a delicate, fragile-lookinggirl with a narrow, pointed face that
reminded Nancy of a princess in a fairytale book. Ralph, slender with intenseblack eyes, was probably the scholarlytype. He seemed a little out of place nextto Tod and Mike, both of whom looked asif they’d grown up in the woods. Nancylistened carefully to them as Mercedesintroduced them, trying to detect any traceof the voice that had made the phone call.But the wee
in Nancy Drew's bedroom, where she was polishing her long, delicate nails. "I'm not going on any wilderness trip!" "But, Bess, you'll love it," countered her cousin George Fayne. Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Nancy Drew was engrossed in a puzzle and trying to block out the sound of her best friends' voices. The more difficult the
