"It was delicious. How much do I owe you?"

The manager named an amount and Nancy paid the bill.

As the girls went to the front porch, Carol came from the garden, saying she had not seen the woman who screamed. "I hope she wasn't injured."

Nancy was suspicious about the whole episode. Had Jemitt been eavesdropping at the tower room door, afraid Asa Sidney might say something to his visitors which would make them feel he was being mistreated? To get the girls away, had he ordered some woman, probably Mrs. Jemitt, to scream? If so, the ruse had worked!

Nancy did not express her thoughts aloud. Instead, she gave Carol a quick kiss and said, "Remember, my dad is a lawyer. If he or I can be of service to you, please let me know."

"I hope to see you again and often," Carol answered shyly, "even though I can't imagine myself needing legal advice."

Nancy, Bess, and George walked along the driveway to the road and set off for the convertible. The wind had died down but had left trees uprooted and branches snapped off.

They found Nancy's car undamaged and climbed in. She turned on the headlights and had just backed around when a car roared up the road and stopped short at the fallen tree. The driver almost sc.r.a.ped the fender of Nancy's car. He leaned out and asked curtly why she was blocking the road.

"Great-Uncle Peter!" George exclaimed. "h.e.l.lo, Uncle Pete!"

"Who-what-George! And Bess, too? Yes, it is. What are you girls doing here?"

The man leaped from his car and strode toward them, his face plainly showing annoyed surprise.

"We haven't seen you in a couple of years," Bess called, trying to force a cheery note into her voice.

Nancy watched the little drama with wonder. She had never heard of Great-Uncle Peter.

"You haven't answered my question. Why are you two here?" the man demanded.

"We were caught in the storm and stopped at The Sign of the Twisted Candles," George replied. "This is our friend, Nancy Drew. Our Great-Uncle, Nancy. Mr. Peter Boonton."

Peter Boonton, a tall, thin man about sixty, nodded acknowledgment of the introduction.

"Well, run along now," he admonished his nieces. "It is late for you girls to be so far from home." He turned on his heel and started toward the inn on foot.

"Whew!" George exclaimed. "What a greeting! Nancy, the plot thickens. Great-Uncle Peter must have come to see Asa Sidney. Well, let's go!"

Before Nancy could start, another car whizzed up the road and screeched to a halt.

"This place has become very popular all of a sudden," Bess remarked.

Since the newcomer was blocking the road, Nancy tapped her horn. Instead of moving, the driver sat staring at Peter Boonton's car. He called to Nancy, "Say, miss, do you know whose car that is? It looks like Pete Boonton's."

He stepped to the ground. The man appeared to be about the same age as Bess and George's great-uncle, but was heavier set.

"Yes, that's Pete's car all right," he declared emphatically. "See here, you aren't waiting for him by any chance, are you?"

"Certainly not," Nancy answered, gripping Bess's arm as a signal for silence. "We're just leaving, as a matter of fact."

"Don't let me keep you, then," the stranger said, leaning an elbow on Nancy's car. "Now that the owner of this place has. .h.i.t the century mark, I suppose every relative of his or his wife is looking forward to a piece of his estate. They're worrying more about his money than his health, you can bet!" The man laughed loudly.

Here was added light on Asa Sidney's odd affairs, Nancy thought. She hoped the stranger would continue his musings.

"Yes sir! Two generations of bickering, and now-him! Well, Peter Boonton can't put anything over on me," the man muttered. "He's not a blood relative. There'll be a hot scene in the tower room tonight or I'm not Jacob Sidney!"

Bess and George gasped but said nothing. Nancy asked, "You are related to Asa Sidney?"

"Yes, my father was his brother. How do you know Asa?" he said, thrusting his face into Nancy's car. "Say, who are you?"

"Oh, I just met Mr. Sidney this evening," Nancy replied nonchalantly. "When I heard it was his hundredth birthday, I arranged a little party for him. Carol helped get it ready and ate with us."

"Carol! Humph! Asa thinks more of that girl than of his own flesh and blood."

"He seems to be very lonely," Nancy remarked pointedly. "He said so himself."

"Oh, he did, did he? And whom has he to blame for that?" Jacob Sidney shouted. "Cutting himself off from everybody and living in an attic making twisted candles all the time. He's crazy, that's what he is.

"You can bet that I'm not crazy enough to let Pete Boonton fill the old man with gossip," he added, shaking his fist at the house. "The Sidneys didn't inherit any weakness in the head, and a Boonton never got the best of 'em yet!"

With that, the man dashed off to the inn.

CHAPTER IV.

A Strange Story As Nancy headed the car for River Heights, Bess and George began to talk excitedly.

"I wonder what the feud is about," said Bess. "It must be pretty bad."

George nodded and Nancy told them about Hannah Gruen's remark, "Now you're in for trouble." The cousins could not figure out what she had meant, but said they would ask their parents.

"We'll let you know, Nancy, what they say," Bess promised.

Heavy storm damage to trees and flooding along the roads made driving hazardous and it was late before Nancy reached her own home. Mr. Drew heard her pull into the garage and opened the kitchen door.

"Hi, Dad!" Nancy cried, kissing him.

"h.e.l.lo, Nancy! How's the junior partner of Drew and Drew, Incorporated?" The tall, handsome lawyer laughed.

"Full of mystery," she replied. "Wait'll you hear what happened. Hi, Hannah!" she said to the sweet, motherly-looking housekeeper who had just finished putting away the dinner dishes. She had helped rear Nancy since she was three, when Mrs. Drew had died.

Nancy said, "Let's all go into the living room and exchange stories. Dad, build a nice cozy fire, will you? It's chilly."

Soon there was a roaring blaze in the fireplace and the three sat down. Hannah Gruen brought a cup of steaming cocoa and homemade cookies for Nancy, while she and Mr. Drew had second cups of coffee.

"First I'll tell my story," Nancy said, "then I want to hear about your warning, Hannah."

She was interrupted many times by her astonished listeners, and all three agreed that Mr. Jemitt's actions seemed very suspicious. Between him and the greedy relatives, Asa Sidney was in a bad spot.

Finally Mr. Drew said, "What were you saying about a warning?"

Nancy replied, "When I phoned Hannah, she said, 'Asa Sidney! Now you're in for trouble!' Then the phone went dead. What did you mean, Hannah?"

"Well, it's a long story," Mrs. Gruen cautioned. "This isn't serious trouble, but it may mean a heartache for you, Nancy. I'm afraid Bess's and George's parents didn't intend that you find out about the family skeleton."

"But," Nancy protested, "they thought it was all right for Bess and George to take me to the inn to investigate."

The housekeeper sighed. "You never can tell about people. Well, I'll begin at the beginning. I heard this long ago from a woman who used to work for the Sidneys." Hannah repeated the story Asa Sidney had told the girls and added, "Ever since the little girl's death, the Boontons and the Sidneys have been enemies. The Boontons are mad at the Sidneys because Asa didn't pay attention to his family, and the Sidneys are mad at the Boontons because Mrs. Sidney left her husband."

"And Bess Marvin and George Fayne are related to the Boontons, aren't they?" Mr. Drew inquired.

"Exactly! Mrs. Asa Sidney's maiden name was Boonton."

After Mrs. Gruen had explained the complicated family tree, Nancy remarked, "So Bess and George are great-grandnieces of old Asa Sidney!"

"That's it." Hannah nodded. "Mrs. Marvin and Mrs. Fayne didn't expect you to find out all about the feud-only whether or not the Jemitts are mistreating Asa Sidney."

Nancy laughed. "I'll stick strictly to the Jemitt case."

"Once," said Mrs. Gruen, "there was some sort of reconciliation between a Boonton and a Sidney, and a marriage, I believe. But the feelings of both families were so bitter that they disowned the couple. I don't know what happened to them."

At that moment the telephone rang. Nancy leaped to her feet, hoping the call would be from Ned Nickerson, her favorite date.

Instead of Ned's cheery baritone, the voice on the wire proved to be feminine. "Is this Nancy Drew?"

"Yes."

"The Miss Drew who was at The Twisted Candles this afternoon during the storm?"

Nancy's pulse quickened. "Yes, I was there with two friends," she said. "Who is this?"

"Carol Wipple."

"Carol, I'm so glad to hear from you. I was just telling my father of our meeting, and telling him, too, that I hoped to visit you again soon."

"That's good of you, Nancy. I-you-your father's a lawyer, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Sidney wants a lawyer, a really good one, Nancy," Carol said. "Could your father come tomorrow morning to draw a new will for him?"

"I'm sure he'll come," said Nancy, "but let me ask him."

A moment later she had his promise and Carol was delighted. "Please come with him. I'll be waiting for you."

"I'll try," Nancy replied. She hurried back to her father. "May I go along?"

"Hm! This is strictly cut-and-dried legal business," Mr. Drew replied, "but then I might need a detective. Okay, come along."

Early the next morning father and daughter were riding southward on the state highway, with Nancy at the wheel of her convertible. The fallen tree had been removed, so she was able to drive directly to The Sign of the Twisted Candles.

"That's the tower room up there," Nancy pointed out. "And I see Carol sweeping the porch."

Carol looked up as the car swung into the driveway, and ran forward to greet Nancy. She acknowledged the introduction to Mr. Drew and thanked him for coming.

"Mr. Sidney is expecting you," she said. "Nancy, you'll show your father the way up, won't you? I must hurry with my work."

"Indeed I will," Nancy stated, opening the door. Then she leaned toward Carol and whispered, "Stay where I can find you. I'll be down in a minute."

Carol nodded and Nancy entered the hallway with her father.

Before they could proceed, Mrs. Jemitt popped into the hall. "You wish breakfast?" she said. "We don't usually serve this early." She gave no indication that she recognized Nancy.

"No, thank you," Mr. Drew answered. "I have a business appointment with Mr. Sidney."

Mrs. Jemitt jumped in front of the staircase. "You can't see him! He's-he's ill. He didn't sleep well."

"That's all the more reason why I should go up," the lawyer persisted.

Mrs. Jemitt was firm. She stretched out her arms to bar the way. "You'd better leave," she advised angrily.

Nancy was in a quandary. She knew her father would never touch the woman. If Mrs. Jemitt was to be forcibly removed from the stairway, she would have to do it!

CHAPTER V.

Buried Chest WITH the speed of a panther Nancy grabbed Mrs. Jemitt's arms and swung her around out of the way. Then, crying "Come on, Dad!" she ran up the steps two at a time.

Her father followed, leaving Mrs. Jemitt muttering below. Nancy rapped on the door of Asa Sidney's tower room. The old man called to them to enter.

"Ah, Miss Drew, I can't confuse you this bright morning with a musty old painting. Mr. Drew, how are you, sir? Please excuse me for not rising. I am somewhat weak today after a tempestuous night. Draw up a chair."

"Don't disturb yourself, Mr. Sidney." The lawyer placed his bulging brief case on the table and pulled a chair close to the old man's seat. "Mrs. Jemitt said you were ill."

Mr. Sidney frowned. "How would she know? She hasn't been near me nor has Jemitt. Carol brought up my breakfast.

"Well, let's get down to business. I wish to make a new will," the old man said. "Please understand that despite my dowdy surroundings, I am prepared to meet your fee, Mr. Drew. I want the best legal advice, and I can afford to pay for it."

Nancy stepped quietly from the room and closed the door behind her. She paused on the first step to glance out the small window that gave a minimum of light to the stairway. The corner of an old barn was visible. Beyond this was the edge of a forest that grew denser and taller as it stretched toward some hills.

A movement below attracted her attention. Frank Jemitt, dressed in overalls, was coming from the inn. He carried a shovel and a large covered basket which seemed to be very heavy, and kept looking around furtively.