Nancy did not comment on this. She knew that the postal inspector was a very reasonable man. Surely he would understand that the case of Ira Nixon was indeed an exception.

"Are you aware," she asked Moore, "that Ira Nixon is in the hospital?"

"I heard something of the sort but this doesn't excuse him."

"And now if you'll excuse me-" Nancy said, starting to close the door.

With a mumbled reply the officious young man turned and left the house.

Mr. Drew came home early, explaining that he was so curious about what had taken place during the day he wanted to get more details from Nancy at once.

She smiled. "The whole thing gets more mysterious every minute. Listen to this." She told him about the investigative aide from the post office.

When she finished, Mr. Drew burst into laughter. "My congratulations to you on telling him you would turn the case over to your lawyer." Then he sobered. "You are not to blame, Nancy, for the stolen letters. I'm sure Postal Inspector Wernick will agree with us."

Nancy asked him how his client Mrs. Quigley had taken the loss of her money. "Was she very upset?"

"She certainly was," the lawyer replied. "My secretary had to bring smelling salts and a cup of black coffee. Finally Mrs. Quigley began to cry and admitted that she should have followed my advice and sent a check."

Father and daughter talked a long time about the whole affair. Their conversation was interrupted by a phone call for Mr. Drew. He came back from answering it to tell Nancy an emergency had arisen. "I must go at once to see a client. He has been in a bad accident. I probably won't be home until late so don't wait up for me, Nancy."

She and Hannah Gruen ate alone. To cheer up Nancy, the housekeeper suggested that they go to a movie at the River Heights Theater.

Nancy smiled. "You've talked me into it. I guess there's nothing more I can do tonight on the mystery, anyway."

By morning, however, the young detective's thoughts were back on the mystery. At breakfast and on the way to and from church, she reviewed the various angles of the mail theft.

"Dad, do you suppose with Ira Nixon's slight clue about the name Malmsbury, I could get a copy of the letter sent to me?"

Mr. Drew smiled. "I believe so. Tomorrow morning I'll make a phone call to a lawyer friend in London. I'll ask him to look in the telephone directory and see what he can find out for us."

That afternoon Nancy went to call on Ira Nixon in the hospital. He said no tests had been made yet, since it was Sunday, but these would be taken care of the following morning.

"I suppose you are wondering," he said, "whether or not I have thought of any more clues to help you find your missing letter."

He lowered his voice. "Mind you, what I'm about to say I don't believe down deep in my heart, but it will explain why I fainted yesterday at your house."

The mail carrier told about his half brother Edgar. It was a repet.i.tion of what Hannah Gruen had already revealed. Ira added, however, that when Nancy had mentioned a man in a yellow coat with a beat-up car and part of his license plate number, he had thought for a moment it wa his brother.

"But I'm sure it wasn't," he said. "Edgar may be an annoyance to me but I'm sure he's not a thief."

Nancy did not comment. Instead, she asked, "What did my little friend Tommy mean by a yellow coat?"

A smile flickered across Ira's face. "Actually it's a camel's-hair coat. His hat is too. A striking outfit and incidentally Edgar is rather handsome."

A nurse stepped into the room to announce that visiting hours were over for the afternoon. Nancy said good-by to the letter carrier and left.

The following morning Mr. Drew telephoned her from his office to report that he had talked to his friend in London. "I have good news for you, Nancy. There is a law firm in the city by the name of Malmsbury and Bates-Jones."

"I'm sure that's the one!" Nancy said excitedly.

"I hope so," her father replied. "In any case, my friend will telephone to them and find out if they sent a letter to you. He'll tell them the circ.u.mstances of your not receiving it, and request a duplicate. On the other hand, if this is not the right firm, my friend will try to find the person who did write to you."

"Dad, that's wonderful!" Nancy exclaimed. "I hope we hear something soon."

Her father chuckled. "When you were a little girl, Nancy, you were always eager to have things happen. I used to say to you, 'Hold your horses!' Now I'm saying it again. Don't get your hopes up too high."

Nancy laughed. "Spoken like a lawyer," she teased, and then said good-by.

As soon as luncheon was over, Nancy told Hannah Gruen she was tired of staying in the house and waiting for news. "I'm going to do some investigating," she announced.

"Where are you going?" the housekeeper asked.

"To talk to some of Ira Nixon's neighbors. They may give me a clue that will be helpful in tracking down this Edgar Nixon. Despite Ira's faith in him, I think he's a good suspect."

Mrs. Gruen agreed and kissed Nancy good-by. The young detective drove to the other side of town and found Ira Nixon's little, old-fashioned home. As she parked in front of the house, two women crossed the street and and introduced themselves as Mrs. Malley and Mrs. O'Brien. They wanted to know if Nancy could tell them about the mail carrier's condition.

"He's better," she replied. "In a way it's fortunate that he got into the hospital."

"It sure is," Mrs. O'Brien interrupted her. "The poor old man doesn't eat right."

"Yes," her neighbor Mrs. Malley agreed, and added, "He worries all the time about that no-good brother of his."

Although curious to learn more about Ira's brother, Nancy commented cautiously, "I've heard about Edgar. Tell me, is he really as bad as all that?"

"Well, of course, I don't know what goes on inside the house when he comes there," Mrs. O'Brien went on, "but I know the effect on Ira. He's just all in after one of those visits."

Mrs. Malley leaned forward confidentially. "Edgar was here this morning. Of course he couldn't get in. I guess he didn't know where his brother was. And I for one wouldn't tell him."

"Me either," Mrs. O'Brien declared. "That Edgar is nasty. A lot of papers blew off the seat of his car and he wouldn't take time to pick them up. He littered the street and we had to go around and clean up."

Nancy asked eagerly, "Where are the papers now?"

"We put them in a trash can-good place for them."

"They might be important," said Nancy. "May I see them?"

The two women looked at each other, puzzled, but led the girl to Mrs. Malley's back yard. She opened the trash can and said, "There they are."

Nancy lifted them out one by one. All were letters and looked as if they had fallen into water. Most of the writing was illegible. One had had the top torn from it, and all but a few words had been obliterated, but the remaining few caught Nancy's attention. This must be part of the letter which had come to her from London! All that remained was:...................Drew: ...................................................... money has been left....................

"I'd like to take this one along," she said.

"Help yourself," said Mrs. Malley. "They don't belong to me anyway. They're just trash."

"I suggest," said Nancy, "That you call the postal inspector and tell him about these letters."