The Blinding Glare

“THAT’S pretty conclusive proof Manning’s the thief, ” Nancy told herself. “I’ll take these papers to the police.”

It was easy to understand how they had overlooked the papers Manning had concealed so cunningly in the shade. She unrolled it another foot. More papers were attached. Each contained Chinese writing done in bold brush strokes with black ink.

“I wonder what they mean, ” Nancy thought. “They must have something to do with the vases.”

Just then she glanced at her watch. Less than half an hour to meet Bess and George! She had not even looked through the contents of the old trunk for a clue to the China clay pit!

Carefully Nancy removed the papers from their hiding place and put them in her handbag. While she was restoring the shade to the window, Mrs. Wendell returned. She said the police would send a man to watch the house, but they doubted that Manning would return.

“And I got a carpenter comin’ right away to board up that hole into the other house, ” Mrs. Wendell reported.

Nancy told of her new find, then looked over the contents of the trunk. Scattered among old clothes were a lot of yellowed letters. Nancy scanned the correspondence. Much of it was personal, so she read only enough to convince herself there was no mention of China clay.

“Mrs. Wendell, ” she said, “did Mr. Manning ever say anything about this trunk? ”

The woman looked startled. “Yes, he talked quite a bit about it. He said it wouldn’t bother him in the room and insisted I leave it here. Why did you ask? ”

“I believe he might have come here on purpose to look for something in it; something that belonged to Mr. Petersen.”

“Oh, gracious! ” said Mrs. Wendell. “This gets more complicated every minute.”

“Don’t worry any more about it.” Nancy patted the woman’s arm. “Just forget the whole thing.”

Nancy said good-by and went to her car. She drove as rapidly as she dared in order to keep her date with Bess and George at the Masonville Inn. But when she reached it, she was minutes late.

“Well, ” said George when Nancy had parked, “I hope you don’t keep Ned Nickerson waiting like this! ”

Nancy blushed, thinking of Ned, a student at Emerson College. Nancy enjoyed his company, and had attended many parties and dances with him.

“I just couldn’t get here any sooner, ” Nancy replied. “Wait till you hear about the secret panel! ”

At lunch Nancy told her friends what had happened. Bess’s eyes grew wide with astonishment and George said, “Gosh! ” and “Hypers! ” several times.

After Nancy had finished eating, she showed the girls the photographs of the vases, then copied the Chinese symbols in a notebook.

“We’d better go, ” said Bess. “I said I’d be home by four.”

“Oh, heck! ” George complained. “That dress I bought won’t be ready for an hour.” She explained that it was being altered slightly.

“I bought two dresses, Nancy, ” said Bess. “They’re positively yummy.”

“Um.” Nancy smiled. Then, pretending to be envious, she said, “I’ll be at Helen Townsend’s birthday dinner tonight in just an old pink sheath. Tell you what. Suppose you go on home, Bess, and I’ll wait for George. I want to stop at police headquarters with these papers.”

The arrangement suited Bess, who drove off at once. She took a longer but more traveled road back to River Heights than the one where the suspected thief had been.

An hour later Nancy and George followed but took the short cut. Nancy braked as the convertible went around the series of twisting curves approaching Hunter’s Bridge.

“Do you think the man you saw here was Manning? ” George asked. She leaned forward, looking alertly ahead, as if she expected the man to jump out at them any moment.

“Either Manning or a pal, ” Nancy answered. “Mr. Soong’s vase wasn’t in that attic.”

“But it would have reached there eventually if you hadn’t spoiled Manning’s plans, ” said George. “I wonder where Mr. Soong’s vase is.”

Nancy was about to reply when suddenly both girls were blinded by a stabbing glare. Nancy threw up her left hand to shield her eyes. Then, as quickly as the glare had come, it disappeared.

“What was that? ” George asked.

Nancy stopped and got out. “I don’t know, ” she said. “But I intend to find out.”

“Not without me, ” George declared.

Together the girls walked to the sparse woods from which the flash had come. In a few seconds Nancy and George came upon a car. It was a maroon coupé with a badly dented right rear fender. The car was empty.

Attached to the outside frame was a side-view mirror. It had been tilted, possibly by the jarring trip off the road. On a hunch, Nancy adjusted the mirror. As she did so, she was struck by the same stabbing glare that had blinded her in the convertible. A ray of sunlight had been reflected from it to the road!

“Funny place to leave a car, ” George commented.

“This may be a meeting place for Manning and his friends.” Nancy circled the coupe, then jotted down the license number in her notebook.

As if confirming her deduction, Nancy and George heard the murmur of men’s voices deeper in the woods. The girls started forward.

Taking care not to make a sound, they stepped cautiously as the voices grew more distinct. Presently the girls saw two men. Their backs were turned, and they seemed to be bending over something on a log. Unable to hear what they were saying, Nancy and George crept forward.

Nancy’s attention was so fixed on the men that she did not notice a dry twig in her path. The next moment, there was a sharp crack as she stepped on the twig.

The girls heard a startled exclamation, followed by a hollow crash, as if something had dropped and broken. Without looking back, the men scooted into the brush and disappeared.

“George, I’ll see what they dropped, ” Nancy whispered, running quickly toward the log.

“Be right back! ” called George, and raced off in the direction of the disappearing men.

Hoping that they would be heading for their car, George plunged into the dense underbrush. She had to get a look at them!

Beside the log, Nancy found part of a wrinkled newspaper. On it lay fragments of what had been a small Oriental bowl. Nancy glanced at the newspaper. It was Chinese!

She bent over to pick up the paper and the broken pieces. They might prove to be a valuable clue. But hardly had she put the last fragment in her bag when a bloodcurdling scream rent the woods.

It came from George!

Nancy raced pell-mell toward the sound, which had come from the direction of the car. Her worst fears aroused, she fairly flew, heedless of the brambles that tore at her dress. Finally she came in sight of the coupé standing exactly where she had seen it.

George was not there!

As Nancy stood uncertain under a low-hanging limb, a shadowy figure suddenly leaped at her. She felt a stinging pain and collapsed to the ground!