I have to start with the matter of dates. I’d always thought of the Nancy Drew (and Hardy Boy) mysteries as being products of the 1950s, the golden age of capitalism that apparently was the period of “greatness” that America has ever since been wanting to return to. And this isn’t an entirely false memory. The series actually got started in 1930, with this novel, as a new franchise from the Edward Stratemeyer Syndicate, a book packaging company that published a number of popular children’s and YA titles. The name “Carolyn Keene” was a collective pseudonym for the authors assigned to write the Nancy Drew books, following outlines laid out by Stratemeyer and his daughters. As far as I can gather, Mildred Wirt Benson was the author of The Secret of the Old Clock, but not so much the author of the book as I read it.

More explanation: the Nancy Drew books were extensively revised under the editorship of Harriet Adams starting at the end of the 1950s. There were cosmetic changes made, like Nancy being 18 instead of 16 and her blue roadster changing to a convertible (which makes her getting caught in a thuderstorm an even greater emergency), but also more significant ones that adjusted the order of events and the presentation of characters. Critics have pointed out how with the revisions Nancy (a prototype of the modern, liberated young woman circa. 1930, whose name was originally going to be Stella Strong) became less of a tomboy and even more of a “daddy’s girl” thirty years later. The myth of the ‘50s was already well on its way to being written by the end of that decade.

What surprised me the most about the date though was that 1930 was the year when America was first facing the full shock of the Great Depression. While some of the people we meet in the novel are tight for cash – they could sure use that money from Josiah Crowley’s will! – there are no breadlines or tent cities. Women wear gloves when they go out, and people schedule luncheons. I haven’t heard the word luncheon in a long time. Yes, all seems quite happy in River Heights and its environs.

Selecting a recently constructed highway, Nancy rode along, glancing occasionally at the neatly planted fields on either side. Beyond were rolling hills.

“Pretty,” she commented to herself. “Oh, why can’t all people be nice like this scenery and not make trouble?”

Alas, people do make trouble. In particular a snotty family named the Tophams had basically kidnapped wealthy old guy Josiah Crowley (with a name like Josiah I think you’re automatically ancient) and now stand to inherit his fortune. I’m not sure exactly how the Tophams did this, or what the deal was. If Josiah was being taken care of by them then I can see why they would want to be sure that they were getting paid. I know families where there have been arrangements like that. And while the Tophams aren’t nice people and Josiah doesn’t seem to have liked them at all, there’s no evidence of abuse. Nevertheless, apparently Josiah had to sneak away at some point to make a second will that leaves money to a collection of needy friends and extended family. Nancy is sure this second will exists somewhere and sets out to find it so that the worthy poor can be rewarded and the Tophams (a married couple with a pair of “mean girl” daughters Nancy’s age) are cut off.

Actually, Nancy is quite a bitch about this. When she finds the second will (yes, it’s hidden in an old clock) a scene is arranged where her father Carson (“there’s no better lawyer in River Heights”) will read it to all the beneficiaries. “I believe you’re more thrilled than if you were inheriting the fortune yourself,” dad remarks. Nancy responds: “I am thrilled. . . . I can hardly wait until the will is read aloud. Won’t everyone be surprised? Especially the Tophams. Do you think they will come?”

So while Nancy wants the Hoovers and Abby Rowan and the Mathews brothers get their deserved reward, what she really wants to see is the Tophams receiving their comeuppance. And this gets rubbed in, as Mr. Topham has been speculating in the stock market and is ruined. His daughters are distraught:

Isabel gave a shriek. “Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, Mother, all those bills! What’ll we do?”

Ada too had cried out. “I’ll have to go to work! Oh, I can’t bear the thought of it!”

Which is kind of funny, but then I don’t think Nancy is employed either and her response might have been similar.

In the original 1930 version of the story there is a scene after the reading of the will that underscores Nancy’s dark motivation even more. It was taken out in the revised edition so I’ll include it here:

After everyone had left the house, Mr. Drew turned to his daughter with a smile.

“Well, we administered the coup de grâce to the Tophams all right.”

“Yes, wasn’t it funny to watch their faces when they learned they were cut off without a cent?”

“They took it hard. It’s my opinion the Tophams won’t be able to hold their heads so high after this. Richard Topham looked rather sick when he left. I suspect he’s desperately in need of ready cash.”

“The Tophams deserved to be cut off without a cent,” Nancy Drew declared.

Damn, Nancy. That’s cold.

As an aside, and returning to the economic theme, I find it very strange that in the original novel under the will the Hoovers get $75,000 each, as does Abby Rowan. In 1959 the total estate is only valued at $100,000 and the beneficiaries only receive $10,000 each. And Richard Topham does actually get $5,000, so he’s not left without a cent. In terms of the amounts being handed out that’s quite a comedown, and remember that the issue during the Depression was that nobody had money.

Apparently they didn’t have much furniture either. The subplot here involves a trio of thieves with a moving fan who break into empty homes and steal all the furniture! Now this came as a real time shock, as most people today have to pay someone to take old furniture away, as half the time even charities don’t want it! But things were different in 1930. Indeed, it’s a matter of some dispute in the will as to who will get Josiah’s furniture. That stuff was gold!

Being both an old book and YA there is a lot to smile and shake your head at. Captured by the furniture thieves, 18-year-old Nancy is only locked in a closet when they leave the house they’ve broken into. There’s no hint of physical violence. And while lots of mysteries deal with wills and what’s in them, I thought the discussion of how this one worked was kind of questionable. But even more mysterious to me was how easily Carson Drew gets access to Josiah’s safety deposit box. I guess you just have to take it for granted that everything he’s doing is legit.

As for the mystery, there isn’t much of one. Nancy is a detective, but not the kind who puts things together or uses clues to figure things out. She just knows that there must be a second will and keeps asking people about it until she knows where it must be and then follows people around (trucks at the time left distinctive tire tracks on dirt roads, which makes things easy!) until she finds it. All of which leads to what is (for her) a satisfactory conclusion. There isn’t even any mystery to her thought processes, as she spends the whole book thinking aloud. But the hook is set as “a far more baffling case than the one she had just solved” beckons. Onward the franchise.

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