The score was still 7-6. The Emerson subst.i.tute quarterback was doing a good job, but lacked Ned's field generalship. The boys tried, but it was obvious to all that they were tiring. At last Emerson worked the ball down to State's thirty-five-yard line. It was fourth down.

"They'll have to kick," Marian said.

"Wait! Look!" Nancy cried.

On the sideline Ned was trotting back and forth. After a quick word from the coach, he s.n.a.t.c.hed his helmet and put it on as he ran onto the field.

"A kick!" the spectators yelled. "Nickerson's going to kick!"

As the two sides lined up, every spectator in the stadium rose to his feet, cheering. The distance to the goal post seemed impossible!

Ned braced himself. The ball was snapped. Frank placed it down.

Thud! The ball arched high and sped through the air. Would it make the crossbar? Would the wind blow it to one side?

The answer came in a deafening roar from the Emerson side. Ned had scored! Three more points went up on the scoreboard-Emerson 9, State U 7. Colored streamers flew down from the stands, and confetti rained over the delirious spectators.

"Ned did it!" Nancy screamed. "He won the game!"

Minutes later it was all over. Emerson fans flooded onto the field. They hoisted Ned to their shoulders and carried him to the dresssing room.

Nancy was waiting by the door as Ned stepped out later. "You were simply magnificent," she said.

The next second Nancy's expression changed completely. Ned noticed it at once. "What's the matter?"

"Oh, I don't want to take away any of the glory from the celebration," she said, "but I just saw a man over there who looks like Edgar Nixon!"

Burt and Dave, who had come out with Ned, offered to dash across to where the man was and detain him until Nancy could get there.

"Ned, please wait here," Nancy requested, and sprinted after the two boys.

But by the time she reached them, the man they had stopped was laughing. Nancy heard him say, "No, I'm not Edgar Nixon."

Burt turned to introduce Nancy. "This is the young lady who thought you were someone she's looking for."

"I'm terribly sorry," she said. "From a distance you looked like a man named Edgar Nixon."

The man continued to grin. "You know twice today I've been mistaken for that person. And both times by very pretty young ladies."

Nancy blushed as she asked who the other young lady was.

The stranger replied, "I don't know her name but she said she was an actress."

Nancy was puzzled. If the person was Nancy Smith Drew and had met Edgar Nixon at the guesthouse in Ridgefield, surely she would know what he looked like.

The man she had detained was saying, "I'd like to meet this double of mine someday."

"When did you talk to this actress?" Nancy asked.

"Just before the game. She said her date was supposed to meet her for lunch at the hotel. I'm staying there."

"Is Mr. Nixon there too?" Dave spoke up.

"I don't know."

When Ned heard the story, he insisted upon accompanying Nancy downtown and inquiring at the hotel for Edgar Nixon and Nancy Smith Drew. To her disappointment, she found that neither was registered.

"If Edgar Nixon is in town, he'll probably be at one of the guesthouses or motels," Ned suggested.

"Ned," Nancy said quietly, "you were hurt in the game today. Don't you think you ought to go back to your room and rest?"

The football player shook his head. "I'm all right now. The wind was knocked out of me and I got dizzy and faint for a while. No, I insist upon going with you on this hunt."

Nancy beamed at him. "You're certainly a good sport."

Ned laughed. "I don't want to lose my girl to some kook. If you do come across Edgar Nixon while you're alone, he may harm you."

Nancy and Ned's errand proved to be futile. Neither the suspect nor Nancy Smith Drew was known at any of the places where they asked. To be sure that he was not using an alias Nancy showed the picture she had borrowed from Ira. In each case the person she consulted insisted that no one who looked like him had stayed there recently and most of them did not recall ever having seen him.

On their way back to the campus, Nancy said, "Ned, let's stop at Mrs. Roderick's. She may have some word about Miss Drew."

Nancy fervently hoped that the actress might even be there. Again she was disappointed. Mrs. Roderick said that Miss Drew had not returned.

"She must have filled her suitcase with new clothes and left Emerson. After what you told me, I just haven't been able to stop worrying about Miss Drew."

Nancy mentioned the possibility that the actress and the man she planned to marry had left Emerson to go to London. "May I call the airline and find out more about it? I was cut off when talking to them this morning."

"Certainly," Mrs. Roderick said. "I only have one phone. It's in the kitchen. Help yourself."

This time Nancy was able to put through a satisfactory call. She learned that a Mr. Edgar Nixon had a reservation on the nine-thirty Monday night plane to London. His wife had canceled.

"Thank you very much," she said. "Now will you please look and see if you have a reservation for a Miss Nancy Smith Drew?"

After a few minutes she was told that the airline did have a reservation for a person by that name. Nancy hung up and walked back to the living room where Mrs. Roderick and Ned were waiting. She reported what she had learned.

"The question now is whether this is the Edgar Nixon I'm looking for. And is Nancy Smith Drew the real one or a person who is going to present herself as the heiress?"

Mrs. Roderick shook her head. "What a dreadful mess this is! Well, I hope you are able to settle it."

"I'm afraid," said Nancy, "that Edgar Nixon intends to marry the Nancy Smith Drew who will inherit the money, but I'm hoping I can prevent the marriage."

"How in the world can you do that?" the woman asked.

Ned spoke up with a smile. "I can guess," he said. "It wouldn't surprise me if Nancy intends to take off for New York and stop the couple from flying to London."

Nancy giggled. "How well you know me! That's exactly what I have in mind."

"Well, I wish you luck," Mrs. Roderick said. "And when you have a chance, do drop me a postcard and tell me how everything comes out."