Nancy wondered why she had not heard from Francis Baum. If she could talk with him, some of the pieces of the puzzle might fall into place. Had Baum’s landlady failed to deliver her message?
“Nancy,” said Helen, breaking in on her friend’s thoughts, “how would you like to model a new gown at an art and fashion show at the Woman’s Club?
“Katherine has agreed to help with the fashion part of the exhibit. A special prize is to be awarded to the designer of the most original and attractive dress.”
“Of course I’ll do it,” Nancy promised.
“It starts next Thursday. There will be three afternoon showings and one on Saturday night.”
“Can you design and make a dress so soon, Katherine?” Nancy asked.
“I can try,” the other replied.
“The fashion show will be a great way to have Katherine’s talents recognized,” went on Helen. “She ought to win first prize.”
“I’m thinking of a design now-a modem one, but it have the touch of the Renaissance period,” Katherine said dreamily. “An evening dress with a short train.” She paused a moment. “Every detail I want correct.”
The following afternoon Nancy went to the Archer home for the first fitting. The dress was barely started, but she could tell that it would be beautiful.
“The blue of the flowered silk exactly match your eyes,” Katherine said. “I take a tuck here, and I shorten the train. Then tomorrow it is finished.”
“And your reputation will be made!” Helen cried gaily. “With Nancy modeling the dress, you’re certain to get many clients.”
Nancy laughed. “I’ll do my best.”
She knew that Katherine’s success meant everything to her. In the meantime, Nancy intended to devote every moment possible to finding Francis Baum.
“Why so quiet, Nancy?” Mr. Drew inquired at breakfast the next day.
His daughter had no chance to reply. From outside came a shrill scream, unmistakably the voice of Hannah Gruen.
Thoroughly alarmed, the Drews ran to the front door. A ferocious-looking German shepherd dog was jumping around and would not let the housekeeper approach the door.
“Don’t come out!” the woman warned Nancy and her father. “The dog may attack you.”
At that moment the animal turned of his own accord and went off. At once Hannah Gruen gained the safety of the hall.
“I was looking for the newspaper when the dog came up behind me and growled,” she explained. “I’m sorry I screamed, but the animal frightened me.”
“I wonder where he came from,” said Nancy.
The question was answered by the arrival of a young man, who obviously was his master.
“Hope Rudy didn’t frighten you,” the dog’s owner apologized. “He broke away from me.”
The voice struck Nancy as oddly familiar. Then her heart began to beat a little faster. She recognized him as Francis Baum.
“Oh, good morning! Aren’t you Mr. Baum?”
“I am,” he admitted promptly. “And you are Miss Drew, who left a message for me?”
With difficulty Nancy controlled her excitement, and tried to speak in a calm, casual voice. “I have a picture which I think belongs to you.”
“Of a boy in a sailor suit?”
“Yes, apparently it fell from your wallet when it was stolen.”
“I’m certainly glad you found the picture. It’s important,” Baum replied.
“Important?” asked Nancy, trying not to show how eager she was to hear his answer.
“It may get me some relatives and a fortune someday,” the man boasted.
‘“We’d better go inside,” said Mr. Drew. “Have you had breakfast?” he inquired.
Nancy had told her father of her belief that Francis Baum was the long-missing prince.
The caller accepted quickly, his dog trailing him inside. Mrs. Gruen set an extra place at the table, all the while eying Rudy with suspicion.
Mr. Drew reopened the conversation by asking where their guest had been born. Nancy was not surprised to hear that it was in Mrs. Alexandra’s native land.
“When did you come to this country, Mr. Baum?” her father inquired.
“Don’t remember exactly. I was just a little kid when I was brought to America.”
Nancy tried not to notice that Mr. Baum was cramming toast into his mouth and clattering the silverware noisily as he ate. Surely the nurse of a prince would have taught him better table manners!
Without any prodding, Baum added, “I wouldn’t mind locating some of my real folks, but I don’t know how to do it.”
This was Nancy’s cue to say that she might be able to help him. But she was rather dismayed to hear herself say in a tone not very friendly:
“Mr. Baum, if you have proper credentials-if you actually can prove you are the person in the photograph-I can lead you to your grandmother.”
“Honestly? Where is she?” he demanded.
“I can’t tell you that until you produce proof of your identity.”
“I don’t get it,” Francis Baum said. “If you think I’m a fake-”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to suggest that I doubt you,” Nancy corrected hurriedly.
“Bring your credentials to us soon, Mr. Baum,” said Carson Drew, his tone ending the interview. “And thank you for calling.”
As soon as the young man had gone, Hannah voiced her candid opinion of him.
“If he’s a lost prince, then I’m a queen! Did you see the way he gobbled his food?”
Mr. Drew frowned. “I guess he was very hungry.”
Mrs. Gruen continued, “He didn’t show any refinement at all!”
“He talked rather well at first,” Nancy remarked. “But toward the end he almost seemed like a different person.”
“You forgot to give him the lost photograph,” Mr. Drew reminded her.
“I didn’t forget, Dad. I decided to keep it until I’m sure of his claims.”
“Then you distrust Baum?”
“Not exactly. I’ll admit I don’t like him. He doesn’t bear the slightest resemblance to the boy in the photograph.”
“Mark my words,” Hannah announced flatly, “he’ll never show up with any credentials.”
The housekeeper’s prediction proved to be wrong. Francis Baum returned, bearing a package which contained a letter written by his former nurse, and a small toy lamb with a jeweled collar. Much as she disliked to do so, Nancy felt compelled to invite the young man to stay to lunch.
“When can I see my grandmother?” Francis Baum asked Nancy as he again ate ravenously.
“Soon, I hope,” she replied. “I will talk with her today, and show her the letter and the toy.”
“Why can’t I see her myself?” he asked sullenly.
“I have my reasons,” Nancy replied. “If you expect me to help, you’ll have to wait. Your credentials seem satisfactory, but only your grandmother can determine whether or not they’re genuine.”
“She’ll recognize these things all right,” he replied confidently.
Three o’clock found Nancy seated in Mrs. Alexandra’s home with the letter spread out on a table between them. A lump came into her throat as she watched the woman caress the toy lamb.
“My darling grandson played with this in his nursery,” the former queen said, smiling. “I gave it to him myself on his third birthday.”
‘And the letter? Can you identify that, too?”
Mrs. Alexandra scanned the worn sheet of paper.
“Yes, this is the handwriting of my grandson’s faithful nurse, Nada. The young man is my lost Michael! Have him pack his belongings at once and come here to live.”
CHAPTER VII
“OH, Madame Marie!” Anna protested. “We have no room prepared for Prince Michael.”
“That is true,” agreed Mrs. Alexandra. “When my grandson comes, we must show him every consideration. We will have a dinner in his honor.”
“Would it not be better to wait a day or two at least?” pleaded Anna.