Read The Sign of the Twisted Candles for Free Online Page A

Hill’s office. The pleasant bank officer was about Carson Drew’s age.
    “What can I do for your father, Nancy?” he asked. “Oh, don’t be surprised that I know your name. I am no detective, but I’ve seen your picture on your father’s office desk, so I recognized you immediately.”
    Nancy smiled, then explained, “Dad would like you to witness an important document over which there may be some legal trouble. If it is convenient for you now, I’ll drive you to where Dad is waiting. It’s a matter in which minutes are precious, Mr. Hill.”
    “Then I’ll come at once,” the banker replied.
    “But first,” said Nancy, “I’d like to have this chest put in a safe place.”
    “I’ll have it placed in the vault,” Mr. Hill said, pressing a button to summon a clerk. “I’ll give you a receipt.”
    A man in a uniform appeared in response to the summons. Mr. Hill gave him the box with instructions to place it in the bank’s vault.
    “You fill in this receipt,” he told Nancy, handing her a form. She wrote a brief but accurate description of the chest, and Mr. Hill signed the paper.
    “Now let’s go,” he said.
    He accompanied Nancy to her car and she headed it toward the Sidney mansion. Mr. Hill leaned back in the seat without speaking, although his eyes traveled nervously from time to time to the speedometer.
    “Look out!” he suddenly exclaimed.
    They had just reached the intersecting highway when a car pulled across it. As Nancy deftly skirted the slow-moving and mud-splattered automobile she noted that the driver was Frank Jemitt.
    “He must have damaged his car when he went into that ditch,” she thought, pulling ahead.
    A glance in the mirror showed Jemitt shaking both fists over his head at her retreating car. Nancy chuckled and briefly explained to Mr. Hill about the caretaker.
    A few minutes later she turned into the driveway of The Sign of the Twisted Candles and swung to a stop at the porch steps.
    “I’m not being kidnapped, am I?” Mr. Hill joked as he got out. “What is this place, and where is Mr. Drew?”
    As if in answer to his question the lawyer stepped onto the porch and greeted the banker.
    “You made excellent time,” he said to Nancy. “I scarcely expected you to have reached Smith’s Ferry yet. None of the interference we have feared has made its appearance yet.”
    Mr. Hill followed the lawyer into the house. Nancy remained outside and sat down on the steps to mull over recent events. She speculated on what Jemitt would say to her when he arrived, and wished she knew what had made her father so concerned about Asa Sidney’s affairs.
    “I wonder if it affects Carol in any way,” she pondered. “Wouldn’t it be great if he left her some money in his will!”
    The idea was driven from Nancy’s mind by the approach of a car turning into the roadway of the inn.
    “Here comes trouble,” she said to herself.
    For a moment Nancy thought it might be Jemitt’s car, but it proved to be Jacob Sidney’s sedan. Directly behind it was the car belonging to Peter Boonton.
    Jacob Sidney jumped out and sprinted for the porch. Peter Boonton stepped down hurriedly and dashed after him.
    Nancy had leaped to her feet and crossed the porch. Pretending to stumble, she now leaned against the front door for support. Boonton and his rival, panting heavily, drew up side by side in front of her.
    “Stand aside and see that no one follows me!” Peter Boonton commanded.
    “Nothing of the kind!” Jacob Sidney shouted. “I was here first. Listen, miss, I’m in a hurry to see Mr. Sidney on a confidential matter. Let me in!”
    “He’s busy just now,” Nancy said. “He’s in conference and doesn’t wish to be disturbed. Won’t you sit down?” She pointed toward the porch chairs.
    “With whom is he conferring?” Boonton demanded.
    “I’m not at liberty to discuss that,” Nancy replied. “Won’t you two gentlemen have some tea?”
    “Two gentlemen!” Jacob Sidney