"Your husband isn't dead," Nancy said comfortingly.

Mrs. Raybolt appeared not to hear the girl, for she went on wildly, "He burned to death in the fire! Oh, Felix!"

"What's she talking about?" demanded the manager, who had just entered the room.

"I'm sure her husband wasn't in the house at the time it burned," said Nancy. "The investigators found no evidence of anyone having been trapped inside."

Yet, as she spoke, doubt besieged Nancy. How did she know that Felix Raybolt had not been trapped inside the house? True, no body had been found, but what if the explosion-Nancy put the horrible thought out of her mind.

Mrs. Raybolt revived sufficiently to sit up, and after she had drunk the gla.s.s of water Nancy handed her, she appeared to be less agitated.

"I can't go on!" the woman whispered weakly

"You must be mistaken about your husband," Bess told her gently.

"No! No!" the woman cried. "He went there the night of the fire to see a man on business. I had a feeling he shouldn't go and I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen to me. I haven't heard from Felix since that night."

Mrs. Raybolt broke down and sobbed hysterically. Nancy asked the name of the man whom Felix Raybolt had gone to see.

"I don't know," she replied. "Felix never confided any business matters to me. He resented questions. I do know that Felix was uneasy about the appointment."

"Why?"

"He antic.i.p.ated possible physical violence."

Nancy and her friends gulped. If the person with whom Mr. Raybolt had an appointment was Joe Swenson, here was still another count against the Swedish inventor.

At that moment the doctor appeared. He briskly cleared the room, insisting that the patient have absolute quiet. Nancy and her friends left with the others.

"Well, what do you think of the case now?" George whispered tensely.

"I think," Nancy returned soberly, "that things look very black for poor Joe Swenson."

The three girls ate luncheon in silence. They did not want to discuss the mystery in public, and were too concerned to talk of anything else.

When they finished eating, Nancy stopped at the reservation desk and asked the clerk for directions to Stanford. "Take the short cut across Sunview Mountain," he advised. "It's half the distance it would be by the main road."

Nancy thanked him and the girls went to the car. As they were about to drive off, a state trooper stopped Nancy and said, "A word of advice, young ladies. We believe a dangerous criminal is hiding in the vicinity. Keep your doors locked."

"What did he do?" Bess asked fearfully.

"It's suspected he's a firebug, a robber, and-well, he may use a gun on anyone who gets in his way."

"What's his name?" Nancy inquired, her heart sinking in the fear that it would be Joe Swenson.

To her relief, the officer replied that the police were still working to establish the man's ident.i.ty. "But watch your step, and if you should see anything suspicious, be sure to report it to us."

"I will," Nancy promised, and drove off.

Five miles farther on she turned into the narrow short cut across Sunview Mountain. The twisting road, bordered by tangled undergrowth and dense woods, was deserted.

Bess shivered. "The wildest section in the county!" she exclaimed nervously. "Just the sort of place a criminal would choose for a hideout. For goodness sake, Nancy, step on the gas!"

"This is a spooky road," George murmured presently. "Wouldn't it be funny if we should come upon Joe Swenson, peering out at us from the bushes?"

"Funny?" Bess demanded. "I'd be frightened out of my wits. Wouldn't you, Nancy?"

"Well, I don't know," the other returned truthfully. "I'm eager to find that man."

"So am I," Bess replied, "but I'd rather not run into any stranger in this out-of-the-way spot!"

Nancy did not reply immediately, and her friends noticed that she appeared to be scanning the woods searchingly.

"You think the criminal actually might be hiding along this road?" Bess demanded anxiously.

Nancy nodded. "It's possible."

"Turn back!" Bess pleaded. "No telling what he might do to us!"

"Don't get jittery," Nancy advised. "Remember, we have to find out if Joe Swenson works at the plant in Stanford."

As they drove along the winding road, the three girls maintained a vigilant lookout. Suddenly Bess cried out:

"There's a man ahead, at the side of the road! He's motioning us to stop! Don't do it, Nancy!"

CHAPTER X.

A Spooky Shack

INSTINCTIVELY Nancy pressed down hard on the gas pedal and shot past the man. In the rear-view mirror she saw an astonished look on his face. She slowed to a normal pace and laughed in relief.

"A hitchhiker! He probably thinks I'm crazy!"

The stranger did not in the least resemble a criminal type. He looked kind and pleasant.

"Better safe then sorry," Bess defended herself as they left the amazed hitchhiker far behind.

"I'll have to agree with you on that," said George.

Presently Nancy came to a fork in the road and stopped the convertible. There were no signs to indicate which road led toward the Weston factory.

"I'd turn to the left," Bess advised.

"The right-hand turn looks more likely to me," George insisted. "Look-I see a shack over among those trees. Why not inquire there?"