An Alarming Thought

" I'll not be home for luncheon today, " Carson Drew told his daughter the next morning at the breakfast table. " I am working on a special case and will be so busy that I'll send out for a sandwich and a cup of coffee."

" I'll be working on a special case, too, " Nancy laughed. " I'm going to try to learn more about that ring Ned left with me."

" Any ideas? "

" Yes, but they're not very brilliant. I'll tell you about them when you come home tonight"

As soon as the morning's work was finished, Nancy pulled on her beret and set forth for the corner bake shop. The Drews had traded with Oscar Peterson for years. As a child, Nancy had wheedled tarts and pastry from the kindly gentleman, and she remained his favorite customer.

Entering the clean little shop, fragrant with the odor of freshly baked bread, she was disappointed to see a strange girl at the counter.

" Is Mr. Peterson in? " Nancy asked her after buying a dozen rolls.

The young Swedish girl shook her head.

" He's been gone two hours already. He took his family on a picnic."

Nancy thanked the girl and left the shop with the diary still in her pocket.

" Just my luck! " she thought. " Oh, well, I'll see him later in the day."

Bess and George had telephoned earlier that morning to say that they would call for Nancy at ten o 'clock to take her shopping. While she was waiting she again looked through the diary, not because she had any hope of learning anything important, but as a means of killing time.

As she was puzzling over the cramped English, a word which hitherto had gone unnoticed suddenly stood out on the page.

" It's part of an address! " Nancy cried, highly elated. " I'm certain of it! "

Getting her father's magnifying glass from the desk, she held it above the blurred writing and was richly rewarded. She read the words:

" Riverwood Cottage, Sandy Creek."

Nancy stared thoughtfully at the address. " Where had she heard it before?

" Why, I do believe that poor woman and the dear little girl we met at the carnival mentioned Riverwood Cottage! " she told herself. " I didn't pay strict attention because I knew Bess copied the address."

Nancy could scarcely wait until her chums arrived. As usual, they were a few minutes late, but Nancy rushed them into the study so quickly that she did not hear their apologies.

" Why all the secrecy? " George demanded bluntly. " Are you going to tell us about that thrilling date you had last night? "

" All in good time, " Nancy smiled. " But first I want a little information. What was the address that Honey's mother gave us? "

" I didn't bring it with me, " Bess said, " but I think I remember it. 'Riverwood Cottage, Sandy Creek.' "

Nancy felt both elated and discouraged. She had stumbled upon a valuable clue, yet her intuition warned her that it might lead to trouble for these people she had become interested in. Could it be that Honey's father was the man who had set fire to the Raybolt home? What motive could he have had?

Nancy's face was so troubled that Bess and George asked pertinent questions which induced her to tell them everything. She explained about the ring Ned had given her, and showed them the mysterious diary.

" So far this is the only clue the journal has furnished, " she concluded, " but I hate to think what it might mean."

Her chums nodded soberly.

" I can't imagine what Honey's father could have to do with it, " Bess declared, " and yet everything fits in. The strange man you saw running away—the finding of the ring near the hedge–"

" We don't know that it belonged to him, " Nancy said quickly, " although I admit the evidence points that way."

" Well, it looks as though he must have had something to do with the diary, " George interrupted. " Otherwise his address wouldn't be in it. I wonder what he's like? "

" I wish we could meet him, " Nancy returned gravely.

" What are you going to do about the diary? " Bess questioned curiously. " Turn it over to the police? "

" No, I shall keep it, for a few days at least. You know how some police officers are, Bess—always willing to jump to conclusions if they can close up a troublesome case. Honey's father wouldn't have a ghost of a chance, guilty or innocent."

" Not if we told everything we know, " Bess admitted. " The diary is written mostly in Swedish and that ring seems to have a Swedish inscription. The two things together make it look extremely suspicious."

" Circumstantial evidence, " Nancy agreed. " Of course, we're not certain that he is a Swede."

" He must be, " George insisted. " At least, Honey and her mother were very blonde."

" If that man is guilty he should be brought to justice, " Bess announced severely.

" I agree with you, " Nancy said quietly, " but we're not sure he is the culprit. Somehow I can't believe Honey's father would do a thing like that. She's such a sweet little thing, and her mother is lovely."

" I'd hate to get them involved, " George declared feelingly. " I don't believe they get enough to eat as it is, and if the father went to prison–"

" After all, the diary is rather flimsy evidence, " Nancy said more cheerfully. " Perhaps the ring and the journal aren't his, or if they are, he may be able to explain why they were dropped on the Raybolt grounds."

" I think you're right about working this thing out by yourself, " George approved. " You've had wonderful luck on other mysteries. This may be your chance to help Honey and her mother."

" Will you girls work with me? "

" Of course, " the cousins agreed readily.

" I wish we had the roadster. Just my luck to have it in the garage when I need it."

" When will it be repaired? " Bess asked.

" Not until late today, I imagine. I'll tell you what! We might walk down there now and inquire. It won't do any harm to spur the mechanic on a bit. On the way back we can stop at Dad's office and ask him if he has managed to trace the Raybolts. He promised to try."

They set off for the garage and were elated when they saw how well the work on the roadster had progressed. The mechanic promised faithfully that the car could be taken out late that afternoon.

The girls stopped a few minutes at a department store and then continued to Carson Drew's office. As usual he was busy, but he found time to chat with them.

" I had my secretary try to get in touch with Mr. Raybolt, " he told Nancy, " but so far she hasn't been able to trace him. I thought it would be easy."

" Maybe he's gone into hiding, " Nancy suggested with a questioning smile.

" Oh, I judge he'll be heard from, once the news reaches him that his house has been wrecked. I'll try to locate him somehow. I'll give the matter my own personal attention."

Nancy thanked her father for the trouble he was taking, and the girls left the office. It was nearly twelve o 'clock and Bess and George said they must hurry home for luncheon.

" Come home with me, " Nancy urged. " Then we can all go to the bakery shop this afternoon and have the diary translated."

George and Bess were agreeable to the suggestion, for they were as curious as Nancy concerning the contents of the little journal. They loved a mystery, though they lacked their friend's ability to ferret one out, and were eager to be kept informed of all developments.

Hannah served a delightful luncheon, and the girls lingered so long over it that it was three o'clock before they finally set forth to call on the Swedish baker.

" I'm dying to know the translation, " George declared enthusiastically. " I wonder whether he's back from the picnic."

" I hope the translation won't make things look any the worse for Honey's father, " Nancy murmured apprehensively.

They rounded the corner and came within a view of the bakery shop. To the surprise of the girls a police ambulance was parked directly in front of the store and a small group of spectators had gathered. A number of persons were rudely peering in through the windows of the bakery.

" There's been an accident! " Nancy exclaimed, quickening her step. " Oh, I hope nothing has happened to dear old Oscar Peterson! "