They soon overtook Gutterman and Burger who had pulled over to wait at a roadside stand. As soon as the limousine went past, the evil duo started trailing them again. Nancy, feeling the car round a big bend, punched holes in two of the cans and began pouring the oil on the road. She quickly opened two more cans and repeated the process.
Gutterman and Burger, who were several hundred yards to the rear, could not see this until it was too late. As their car hit the slippery fluid, it went into a long skid, sending it off the road, down a ravine, and into a swamp where it settled in mud.
Eric stopped the limousine at a stand, and quickly notified the police of an oil slick so that other motorists would be alerted. Then, with Nancy rejoining him, they resumed their ride.
“Gutterman will be steaming now,” the young detective said, her blue eyes dancing, “but I had no choice. ”
Inwardly, though, she was beginning to worry. Gutterman had probably guessed where she was going. He must have known she was heading for the outdoor theater on the lake at Mörbisch. Otherwise, why would she be wearing theatrical attire?
Nancy now revealed her complete plan to Eric. She would join the chorus in The Merry Widow, an operetta being performed at Mörbisch. The theater was one of Austria’s most popular tourist attractions. Since Nancy had played in the Footlighters’ production of the same operetta, she was capable of singing the entire score. She had arranged to become a member of the Mörbisch chorus for one night only.
“But what does all this have to do with rescuing ten children?” Eric questioned.
“Everything,” Nancy said. “Remember, the professor said we might have trouble getting into the water without being seen? Well, the theater is built out over the lake. When the show finishes, the sun will have set and we’ll be able to slip into the water behind the building, inflate our inner tubes, and sail for Hungary.”
Eric whistled in admiration. “What an idea! Pure genius!”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Nancy grinned as they pulled up to the theater.
“Tell me, how did you manage to talk your way into the theatrical company?”
“That was easy,” Nancy said, shaking her brown wig. “Oh, and there’s the man who worked me into the company. Let me introduce you.”
Nancy rushed toward him, hugging the tall, white-haired man as he stood in front. His name was Georg Waldheim, a dear friend of her father’s. He was a patron of the arts, and knew many people connected with the theater, so it was simple enough for him to gain permission for Nancy to sing.
Saying good-bye to Herr Waldheim, who whispered good luck to her in her mission, Nancy led Eric backstage. He was carrying the suitcase filled with the inner tubes, the small air tank, and the rubber suits. Eric was to remain there throughout the performance. He sat quietly, waiting for the dressing rooms to empty, then scurried out a window and climbed down on the pilings with the suitcase. He set up camp where no one could see him sitting on the wooden supports.
Nancy went onstage and sang her heart out as night began to fall. Eric, meanwhile, inflated the tubes, donned his rubber suit, and applied black greasepaint to bis skin in order to stay better hidden in the dark.
But toward the end of the last act, as Nancy was caught up in the swell of lush melodies, she happened to glance out into the audience. There with his opera glasses trained on the performers was Herr Gutterman!
19
Across the Frontier
The girl detective had to conquer the urge to crouch down or hide behind the other singers. Any movement she made would make her stand out immediately, and Gutterman would be sure to identify her.
So, instead, she continued to sing to the very last note. But the minute the lights were dimmed for curtain calls, she broke out of the line and raced toward the dressing rooms. Quickly, she wriggled out of her dress into her bathing attire, and again slipped the gown over her head.
Before the rest of the cast had left the stage, Nancy was out a side door and approaching the water. It was almost as dark as the night itself, and not until she reached the protective shadows of the trees did she dare to remove the dress covering her scuba suit.
She joined Eric on the pilings where the inflated inner tubes lay lashed together with cord. Nancy covered her hands and face with the remaining greasepaint and waited with Eric for the cast and crew to leave the theater.
Above them they could hear conversation mixed with laughter and footsteps. Then a voice cut through the noise. “Nancy Drew! Has anyone seen her? I have an urgent message for her.”
Nancy and Eric exchanged glances. “I know it’s Gutterman. He has an uncanny ability to alter his voice and appearance, but I’m positive it’s he.”
Her companion nodded as the voice called out again.
“What does he expect me to do? Rush right out and say ‘Here I am’?” Nancy said.
“More likely, he’s hoping somebody else will spot you and say ‘There she is!’ ” Eric replied. “On the other hand, what if Dr. Bagley is trying to reach us?”
“No chance,” Nancy said brightly.
“Why not?”
“Because he doesn’t know where we are, remember?”
Eric grinned. “You’re right.”
“I only kept this part of the plan a secret to surprise everybody later. Now it’s working to our advantage. ”
Although it seemed like hours, probably no more than twenty minutes passed until everyone had left and the theater lights were extinguished. There was silence except for the night sounds of the lake and the chirping and shrill of insects and night birds. Then Eric groaned.
“What’s the matter, Eric?”
“The car. It’s still there. I left it in plain sight. Gutterman will see it. He knows we drove down in a limousine so he’ll know you’re still in the area.”
“And he’ll go right to the closest Hungarian border crossing and alert the guards. The whole frontier force will be onto us!” Nancy cried. “We have to move fast!”
Slipping into the water and pushing the raft of inner tubes ahead of them, they began moving south as fast as they could without making splashing sounds.
“I can’t see you,” Nancy whispered back. “Everything is black on black.”
“Maybe we should hold hands,” the young man suggested.
“Well,” Nancy said, smiling to herself, “we can always hang onto the string of tubes. As long as we don’t lose them, we’ll always be together.”
It was Eric’s turn to smile, his white teeth gleaming in the night. “We could,” he said, “but it’d be nicer the other way.”
“Eric,” Nancy said, “no offense but you’ll have to keep your mouth closed because your beautiful white teeth shine like a beacon.”
He chuckled. “Okay, let’s go. No more small talk. ”
Half wading and half swimming, they made good time. Nancy estimated their speed at about one and a half miles per hour or, roughly speaking, half the speed of walking. Therefore, it would take them approximately an hour to reach the point where they expected to find the Popovs and the children.
Occasionally, they stumbled into holes but soon learned to glide with their feet just grazing the bottom.
The shoreline became increasingly swamplike as they moved into Hungarian territory, and there were few lights to show them where land was. Since it was now close to midnight, most house lights had been extinguished. For a while, the two young people lost their bearings and were forced to stop.
“What I wouldn’t give for one burst of moonlight,” Nancy said.
She had no sooner spoken when a tremendous flash of light zigzagged across the sky followed by a clap of thunder. In the glow that spread over the whole lake, they could see clearly that they weren’t far from the twisted tree that Popov had said was near his hiding place.
“Are you all right, Nancy?” Eric asked.
“Yes, but scared. I thought they were shooting artillery at us.”
“Give them the signal,” Eric went on.
Taking out her duck call, Nancy blew three short, sharp quacks. There was no answer. She tried again, but still no reply.
“Should we go up onshore?” Eric asked.
Nancy was about to say yes when they heard the answering cry of Popov’s duck call. Moments later, faint shadows bulked out of the night and Nancy and Eric waded ashore to meet them.
Emile Popov was carrying one child, a six-year-old. “He can sleep through anything,” he said, handing the boy to Eric. “Be careful when you put him in the tube. The water will wake him and we don’t want him to cry out. ”
Nancy and Mrs. Popov took the other two six-year-olds. The older children gathered around Emile Popov, holding onto a rope he carried to keep them together.
Eric began speaking softly to the children, paying special attention to the thirteen-year-old boy who was his cousin. In spite of their joyous reunion, the two kept their voices low.
Nancy now took charge of painting everyone’s faces black, but as she finished, Eric whispered nervously.
“Listen! Everyone be still.”
The group froze at the sound of several automobiles approaching.
“Trouble,” Mr. Popov said. “They’re coming. No one else would be coming at this hour. Quickly! Quickly!”
Shoving off and keeping low behind the high reeds that covered the inshore waters, the little convoy began moving north again toward the Austrian border.
Car doors opened and closed now and the loud voices of Hungarian police guards drifted across the lake. They trained their flashlights on the hut where the refugees had hidden, then swung the lights toward the shore.
Did they suspect that the escape was being made by water? Would they send out boats? Nancy knew that the Hungarians had small patrol craft as did the Austrians, but since this was a relatively peaceful border, she hadn’t worried about them.
The urgency of the situation prompted all of the children, except the smallest, to slip out of the tubes and help push. Each of the older ones stayed close to a younger one, using a buddy system they had devised over months of hiding throughout Eastern Europe.
The searchers, running now along the shore, shone their lights out across the water.
“Stop,” Nancy whispered.
Everyone halted instantly. The flashlight beams played over and around them, but the darkness of their attire and the cover of tall reeds kept them from being seen.
If only it would rain to block their vision, Nancy thought.
But the rain didn’t come and the flashlights continued to sweep across the lake. Then, after ten minutes, drops began to dot the water. Within another minute, a full-scale storm was raging, and the curtains of water made the flashlights useless.
Jubilantly, the convoy started moving again. Pushing and swimming as hard as they could, they approached the Austrian border. The flashlights, now dim blobs, receded toward the direction from which they had come.
“Only two hundred yards to go,” Eric whispered over his shoulder.
“Look!” Nancy exclaimed suddenly.
Lying directly in front of them was a powerful light that attempted to cut through the heavy rain. It was mounted on a small patrol boat.
For the first time since their mission began, Nancy wanted to cry. There was no way to tell if it was a Hungarian or Austrian craft in the dark. They were so close to freedom, and the children were so cold from the lake water that they struggled to keep their teeth from chattering.
Oh, please help us, Nancy prayed as Eric moved to her side.
“I’ve got an idea,” he whispered. “I’m going to swim out toward the center of the lake, a few hundred yards or so, then cross to the Austrian side. Then I’ll start shouting and screaming like a maniac. The patrol is sure to be distracted enough so you can scoot through with the kids.”
“Oh, Eric, am I glad you dreamed that one up. I just ran out of ideas. Be careful, though.”
“I will.”
It took the young man fifteen minutes to position himself. By then, the rain had slackened and the light from the boat was scanning the area with such intensity that the little group was forced to wade far back into the reeds and crouch low.
Suddenly, Nancy heard Eric. He was whooping and yelling like an Indian tribal attack on a frontier fort. The men in the patrol boat reacted instantly and cruised toward the uproar.
Pushing out of the reeds once again, Nancy and the Popovs covered the final distance of the border in five minutes. They didn’t stop until they reached the theater. Coming out of the water into the chill night air, some of the children at last began to whimper. The Popovs went from one to the other, murmuring words of comfort for they were now safe on Austrian soil.
While the couple led the children to the limousine where warm blankets awaited them, Nancy observed an Austrian patrol boat pull ashore with Eric and two Austrian policeman. They wanted to see for themselves if the young man’s tale about the refugees was true. Discovering that it was, they saluted and left.
Of course, jamming so many people into one automobile, even though it was large and ten of the occupants small, was no easy task. But nothing could dampen anyone’s spirits. Within half an hour, most of the children had fallen asleep. Nancy was surrounded by four of the smallest ones in the front seat.
“Are you happy, Eric?” she asked.
“It’s a dream come true,” he said, “and may I add that you were fantastic.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said with a lilt in her voice. “You’re the one who really wins the honors. If you hadn’t pulled that stunt, we never would have made it. ”
“Aw, shucks,” Eric said, imitating the twang of Old West movie heroes. “It weren’t nothin’.”
Nancy laughed, but a sobering thought stopped her. Everything except recovering Kurt Kessler’s film had been accomplished. He had risked his life to help save the children, but the young detective’s personal assignment to find Captive Witness had failed.