Bess, glancing up from her menu, saw her friends’ faces and asked them what was the matter.
Nancy, leaning over the table, spoke softly to Bess and George, repeating what she had heard Mr. Stryker say.
George’s eyebrows rose as she listened. “Who’s that man?” she asked quietly, her eyes darting to the booth behind them.
Nancy shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said, just as he rose and shambled out of the shop.
The waitress approached and took their order. After she’d finished writing, Nancy spoke up.
“Do you know who that was talking to John Stryker?”
“That’s Ralph Bremer,” the waitress replied, sniffing as she mentioned his name. “He owns the hardware store down the street, and I wish he’d keep it up better. It’s becoming an eyesore.” She turned on her heel and headed toward the kitchen.
“What do you think it means?” George asked, as they waited for their lunch to arrive.
“Maybe something,” Nancy said. “Or maybe nothing. Let’s file it away. It may come in handy later.”
The girls ate their lunch, had their pie—Nancy and George without whipped cream and Bess with—and then decided to finish window-shopping before heading back to Aunt Elizabeth’s.
They paid for their lunch, leaving a tip for the waitress, and then left the coffee shop.
Strolling down Main Street, they came across a toy store. The front window was filled with stuffed animals, displayed in a zoo setting. Bess was admiring an orangutan hanging from an artificial tree when Nancy saw something that made her catch her breath.
“Look!” she said, pointing. There, hanging by an invisible string from the ceiling of the display window, was a stuffed bat just like the one that had been left hanging on Aunt Elizabeth’s porch.
“It’s exactly the same!” George exclaimed.
“Let’s go in,” Bess said. “Maybe whoever bought Aunt Elizabeth’s bat bought it here.”
“That’s just what I was thinking.” Nancy pushed open the door and the three of them went into the store.
Behind the counter stood a brown-haired woman dressed in a bright green dress, chatting with a customer holding a stuffed bear.
Nancy went up to the counter.
The salesclerk turned to her. “May I help you with something?”
“That bat in the window,” Nancy said. “Has anyone bought one of those recently?”
The clerk eyed her skeptically. “Why do you want to know?”
Nancy thought quickly. “I’d like to buy one for a friend. She admired it in the window the other day. But I don’t want to buy it if she already has.”
“I suppose I could look at my sales slips,” the clerk said, pulling out the cash register drawer. “But unless your friend charged it, there’s no way of telling.”
Nancy’s heart sank. How likely would it be that Sarah would use a charge card?
“I do remember a girl about your age bought it,” the clerk said, leafing through the slips. “But I don’t recall who exactly. What was your friend’s name?”
Nancy was trying to decide whether or not to give her Sarah’s name when the door to the store opened and a young woman with two children entered. The children clamored over a group of stuffed monkeys on one of the shelves and began pulling them off excitedly.
The clerk immediately rushed to the shelves. “Wait a second!” she cried. “Let’s take them down one at a time.”
Nancy discreetly pulled the sales slips over to her.
“Nancy!” Bess exclaimed. “Do you have to be so sneaky?”
“Fairport is a small town,” Nancy whispered, leafing through the sales slips furiously. “I don’t want it to get around that we’re suspicious of Sarah.”
The clerk was distracted enough not to notice Nancy’s search. Before long, Nancy found a slip that answered her question. It didn’t have Sarah’s name on it. But it did have her mother’s and a charge card number.
The clerk had said someone Nancy’s age had bought the bat. It must have been Sarah, with her mother. But was that enough to prove the girl’s guilt?
7
A Splash in the Dark
Nancy waved goodbye to the clerk, who was still busy with the children. When Nancy and her friends left the store, she told them what she’d discovered.
“So Sarah did buy it,” George said, her eyes lighting up.
“But that doesn’t prove she’s the one who left it on the porch, does it?” Bess asked.
“Exactly,” Nancy said. “Someone else could have bought one as well. With cash,” she added.
“Let’s go back to Aunt Elizabeth’s,” George said. “And tell her all about it.”
They returned to the car. Nancy could see that Mr. Bremer was back in his hardware store, sitting at a counter and gazing out the window. He stared at them while she and her friends got into the car. Was it only boredom, Nancy wondered, or was there something else behind his stare?
