When he saw the girls, he stood up. "Ye honor me, comin' here," he said, his blue eyes twinkling.

"But I'm goin' to have to disappoint ye. I've nary a clam today."

"Oh. we didn't come to buy clams," Nancy re- plied, glancing curiously at the furnishings of the yacht. The room was small and cluttered, but very clean. Salty's bunk was neatly made. On a shelf above it was an amazing array of sea sh.e.l.ls.

"I collect 'em," the sailor explained, following Nancy's gaze. "Some o' those sh.e.l.ls came from the Orient, an' some from right here in the Mus- koka."

He walked over to the shelf and pointed to a curious specimen. "That's called the washboard clam. It's one o' the biggest of our river clams.

And this is a whelk from the seash.o.r.e. You can get dye out of it when the critter's fresh."

"How interesting!" the girls exclaimed.

Pleased by their attention, the man showed them other sh.e.l.ls which were too large to stand on the narrow shelf. One, measuring three feet across, had come from an island in the Pacific.

Nancy grinned. "What a pearl that might hold!" She told of her own loss, saying she was glad the pearl was not large and valuable.

The former sailor showed the girls other treas- ures from the sea; huge fluted specimens and tiny, delicate sh.e.l.ls. Amazed at the variety, Nancy asked Salty if he had collected them during his travels.

"No." The clam digger laughed. "Mr. Heath gave 'em to me."

The name startled Nancy. "Not Walter Heath?"

"No. Ira Heath-Walt's father," Salty an- swered. "He gave me the sh.e.l.ls when he had his b.u.t.ton factory on the inlet."

"A b.u.t.ton factory near here?" Bess asked in surprise.

"It's been closed for years. It was shut down when the supply o' fresh-water mussels gave out.

Mollusk mother-of-pearl sh.e.l.ls are used, you know, to make pearl b.u.t.tons."

"What became of Mr. Heath?" Nancy inquired.

"Ira was born in England an' went back there on a visit. He died in London. His son Walt was left in charge here."

"Did Ira build the castle?" Bess asked.

Salty nodded, warming to the story. "Yes, Heath Castle was built to look like one o' those fancy English places. The gardens were beauti- ful-a sight to set your eyes ablaze with admira- tion. Stone walls everywhere, with flowers an'

vines, an' all kinds o' trees from everywhere in the world."

Nancy was becoming more eager every minute to see the estate.

"But for me," Salty went on, "the place is too lonesome. No houses close by. The old gent built it 'bout a mile up the river from the b.u.t.ton factory. Walter lived in it, too, an' he used to do some o' his scientific experimentin' there."

"What kind of experiments?" Nancy asked.

"Don't know," said Salty. "Since Walt died, no one ever goes near the castle, or the factory on Harper's Inlet."

"Harper's Inlet?" Nancy repeated thoughtfully.

"Someone must have been there yesterday."

"That's right," Bess agreed. "We saw a motor- boat coming out of the inlet. It crashed into our boat."

"Queer," Salty commented. "I don't know what business anyone would have at the factory.

Who was the fellow?"

"That's what we came to ask you," Nancy re- plied.

She gave a complete account of the incident.

Salty could not identify the man or his boat from her description, but he promised to watch tor such a person.

"I'll keep an eye out for the boat, too," he added. "Can't figure what the fellow would be doin' there. Fishin's no good there. Maybe I'll run up an' have a look."

Satisfied that Salty would be able to locate the boat if anyone could. Nancy and Bess thanked him and left.

As they stepped onto the dock they saw that the weather had changed. Dark clouds filled the sky and the wind was whipping the river into whitecaps.

"I wanted to visit Heath Castle today," Nancy said, "but it wouldn't be wise to take a boat out now.

"Let's do it tomorrow," Bess suggested.

"Then George can go with us," Nancy said.

A surprise awaited Nancy when she reached home. While she and Mrs. Gruen had been away, the two rosebushes had been replanted in the garden. They were only slightly wilted from hav- ing been moved twice.

"Oh, I'm so glad Joan brought them back!"

Nancy declared. "I'm sure she wouldn't have taken them if that Hooper boy hadn't urged her to."

Nancy was pressing earth firmly about the bushes when her father drove into the garage.

She stopped her work and ran to greet him. Mr.

Drew was a distinguished-looking man, tall and handsome.

"I'm happy you're back from your trip," she said.

"h.e.l.lo, Nancy." He smiled. "How's the gar- den?"

"Better today. The rosebushes that were taken day before yesterday are home again."

The Drews went into the house together and Nancy told him about the boat, the Fenimore problems, and the mystery of Juliana's disap- pearance.

"Dad, tell me all you can about Ira Heath and his son Walter," she said. "Did you know them?"

"Only by reputation. For years they operated a very successful pearl b.u.t.ton factory. Then the business went to pieces."

"I already know that part," Nancy said. "What about Heath Castle? After Walter Heath died, who took charge of the place?"

"Daniel Hector is the executor, I believe."

Nancy's mind flew to the unpleasant customer in the curio dealer's shop.

"The lawyer?" she asked.

"Yes," Mr. Drew replied. "But I must say his sharp practice of law never appealed to me."

"Do you think Mr. Hector did everything pos- sible to find Juliana?" Nancy asked thoughtfully.

"I believe so."

"Did you know her?"

"I saw her perform many times, and admired her dancing very much," Mr. Drew replied.

"Why she disappeared at the height of her career has always puzzled me."

"Apparently she left no clues behind."

"The case was a strange one," her father said.

"I guess her fiance was pretty broken up over her disappearance. I've always wondered if he might have had something to do with it." After a pause he added, "Heath Castle might provide a key to the mystery."

"I was thinking the same thing!" Nancy ex- claimed with a mysterious twinkle in her eyes.

"Tomorrow I'll go there and take a look around that castle and those old walls!"

CHAPTER IV.

The Haunted Walk.

Shortly after breakfast the following morning, Nancy, Bess, and George drove to Heath Castle.

By studying a map of the area, they had dis- covered a little-used road which led to the aban- doned estate. Though this woodland route was rough and dusty, Bess preferred it to another boat trip.

"Hope we don't get a flat tire," Nancy re- marked, maneuvering the car to avoid jagged rocks. "How much farther is it?"

George peered at the odometer and noted that they had traveled about five miles from the out- skirts of River Heights.

"We're coming to something!" she exclaimed a moment later.

Through the trees the girls caught a fleeting glimpse of a tall tower. The car rounded a sharp curve, blotting it from view. Then the road ended abruptly in front of a high, vine-covered stone wall.

"The front boundary of the estate!" Bess an- nounced. "There's the name Heath Castle on the gate."

Nancy jumped from the car and led the girls to the iron gate. It was fastened by a heavy iron chain, secured by a huge padlock.

"The key I have won't open this padlock,"

Nancy said. "It's tor the front door."

"Who put the padlock on?" Bess asked.

"Probably Daniel Hector, the executor,"

George replied.

"Whoever it was is determined to keep every- one out," Nancy said thoughtfully.

"How do we get in?" Bess asked.

"Over the top, commando style," George urged. "Lucky we wore jeans."

Nancy and Bess looked with misgivings at the sharp iron spikes of the high, rusty gate.

"I don't like the idea of climbing over that.

There must be an easier way to get in," Nancy said, her gaze roving along the crumbling, ivy- covered wall.

The girls walked alongside for some distance.

Finally they came to a spot which was a bit lower than the gate and offered good toe holds. It was not difficult for them to grasp vines and pull themselves to the top. Bess was reluctant to go, but decided to follow. The three friends leaped down on the other side of the wall and started through the dense growth of trees and shrubs.

It was damp and cool beneath the canopy of leaves. There were many eerie noises. As they progressed, Bess said she felt very uneasy.

"Listen!" she commanded tensely. "What's that?"

"The cooing of a pigeon," Nancy replied.

"Come along, or we'll all have the jitters."

Just ahead stretched a long avenue of oak trees, which the girls thought might lead to the castle.

They tramped through the waist-high gra.s.s and came to a vine-tangled, fern-matted bower. Two handsome stone vases lay on their sides, broken.