"Yes, and thank you. I hope you'll have no more accidents."

"So do I," Baylor Weston returned with a grimace, "but very likely I shall, unless I get a chauffeur. Hm, that's an idea! I'll make a note of it!"

He reached for a pad, and to the amus.e.m.e.nt of the girls, scribbled down the memorandum.

"By the way," he remarked, "did you hear how much Raybolt lost in the fire?"

"I don't believe the loss has been estimated," Nancy replied. "Mrs. Raybolt visited the ruins today. She was quite overcome."

"The Raybolts always did hate to lose a penny," the manufacturer grunted.

"It wasn't that," Nancy told him. "Mrs. Raybolt declares her husband was in the house at the time of the fire. She believes he was burned to death."

Baylor Weston shook his head doubtfully. "Can't make me believe that Felix Raybolt was caught in that fire. He's too foxy for that! If he has disappeared, you may wager it was for a purpose."

"Mrs. Raybolt's grief seemed to be genuine," Nancy commented.

"No doubt. Raybolt wasn't the fellow to confide in his wife about anything. He kept his own council."

"You knew him well."

"At one time. We broke off business relations years ago. Raybolt was too tricky-mean and unfair in all his dealings. He'd steal ideas without a qualm."

"So I've heard," Nancy returned dryly. "By the way," she asked, "do you have a man by the name of Joe Swenson working for you?"

Mr. Weston thought for a moment, then said, "The name is not familiar to me, but I'll inquire of our personnel office." He called the manager. After a few moments' pause, the answer came back-no.

Nancy was disappointed. She thanked Mr. Weston and the three girls arose. They left the factory and walked to the car.

"Let's take the longer route back to River Heights rather than the Sunview Mountain road," Bess pleaded, and Nancy consented.

As she reached the Weston plant's main gate at the highway, the girls saw that traffic had become heavy.

"Everyone must be coming to town for the carnival," George observed. "I saw the posters advertising it when we drove through Stanford. There's to be some sort of parade, too."

The steady stream of vehicles held the convertible at the entrance of the factory grounds. While the girls were impatiently waiting for a break in the line, the plant whistle blew.

"Now there will be a jam!" Nancy exclaimed.

A moment later she finally managed to turn into the highway, but the cars in front of her moved slowly. Again Nancy was forced to halt.

The blowing of the whistle had released hundreds of workmen. They came pouring from the plant. While she waited for the car ahead to move, Nancy watched the men with interest.

Suddenly a vaguely familiar figure caught her eye. At first Nancy thought she must be mistaken, but as the man turned his face toward her, she knew her first impression had been correct.

"Look!" Nancy cried excitedly. "There's the man I saw running away from the fire! He's Joe Swenson!"

CHAPTER XI.

Lost in the Crowd

"JOE SWENSON!" Bess and George exclaimed simultaneously. "Where?"

"He's crossing the highway!" Nancy pointed. "The man with the blue shirt. Don't take your eyes off him for a second! We must keep him in sight!"

The cars ahead had started to move again and Nancy turned her attention to driving, while Bess and George watched Joe Swenson. They kept close behind him for nearly a block, then George called out that he had turned a corner.

Nancy stopped for a red traffic light, and when she finally turned into the side street, the man was a considerable distance ahead.

"He's walking fast," Bess observed. "We'll lose him if we aren't careful."

The street was crooked and narrow. Children were playing ball and Nancy was forced to drive with extra caution.

Joe Swenson turned into another street, narrower than the first and rather dingy. Nancy rapidly drew nearer to him, only to lose him again as he cut through an alley.

"Does he know we're following him?" Bess wondered.

"I don't think so," Nancy answered. "We'll catch him at the next street. I can see where the alley ends."

Rubbish, tin cans, and boxes littered the alley, and she did not care to risk a punctured tire. Turning the car, she retraced her route, rounded the block, and reached the opposite end of the alley in time to see Joe Swenson heading toward one of the main streets of Stanford.

"We have him now," Nancy said confidently.

Scarcely had she spoken when the girls noticed that the block directly ahead had been roped off. The sidewalks were lined with pedestrians, and policemen were turning automobiles into side streets.

"What's this?" Nancy asked impatiently.

"It must be the parade," George declared. "And there goes Joe Swenson, heading that way!"

"We'll lose him sure!" Nancy groaned.

True to her prediction, the man melted into the crowd. A policeman motioned for Nancy to turn to the right and she had no choice but to comply. At the first opportunity she parked the car and the girls ran back.

In vain they searched through the throngs of people watching the parade. Joe Swenson had disappeared.

"If that isn't a mean break!" Bess fretted.

"I admit it's hopeless," Nancy said slowly. "The best thing to do is come back tomorrow and try to find him."

The girls returned to the car. As they headed for River Heights, George said, "If Joe Swenson works at the Weston plant, why wasn't his name on the personnel records?"

"Maybe we were mistaken, after all," Bess said.

Nancy did not reply for nearly a minute, then she declared, "Girls, I have a hunch."