"I know," Nancy returned. "Don't worry. You may be sure Mr. Weston will pay it-one way or another. Right now, we must get out of this mess!"

"How'll we get home with the b.u.mper dragging?" George questioned.

"We'll have to find a garage," Nancy said as the girls seated themselves once more in the convertible.

Nancy started again and slowly moved forward. George groaned. "The rear of this car sounds as if it were about to fall out!"

Just then Nancy was forced to a halt by the b.u.mper-to-b.u.mper traffic. The girls might have been held up indefinitely on the hillside, but fortunately a young man stepped in to act as a traffic policeman. In a few minutes he had the line of cars moving steadily. By the time the girls reached the exit of the Raybolt grounds, the tangle was fairly well straightened out.

To Nancy's surprise, she saw that the young man was the same one who had moved her convertible a short time before.

"I did misjudge him," she chided herself. "He was only trying to help and didn't have the slightest intention of stealing my car. How silly of me!"

On the main road at last, Nancy pulled off to the side to learn the full extent of the damage to her car. While she was surveying the rear axle doubtfully, the young man came over and offered his services.

"I'm Ned Nickerson," he declared with a warm smile. "Anything I can do?"

"Yes," Nancy said. "Please tell us how far it is to the nearest service garage. Another car banged into mine-as you can see."

"There's a garage at Mapleton-about two miles away."

"I wonder if my car will hold together even that short distance."

"It should, if your axle isn't badly damaged."

"But with the b.u.mper dragging-"

"I'll fix that. I might as well pull it off entirely."

With a strong, deft twist, Ned Nickerson tore the b.u.mper loose and placed it in the trunk compartment.

"Look here!" he proposed suddenly. "I'm going to Mapleton-my home's there. I'll keep close behind your car and push it if necessary."

"Thanks a lot," Nancy said gratefully, "but I don't like to trouble you."

"No trouble at all. Glad to do it."

She smiled and introduced herself and the other girls.

When the four reached the Mapleton garage, a mechanic inspected the convertible and said, "I'm afraid I can't have this car ready for at least an hour, miss. Even at that I can't touch the fender or taillights. You'll have to leave the car until tomorrow or else get the work done at your home garage. The best I can do now is fix you up so you can make it home."

"An hour, you say?" Nancy asked. "I suppose we'll have to wait, but we're in a hurry to get to River Heights."

"How about my treating to ice-cream sodas while we wait," Ned suggested. "There's a drug store across the street."

The girls accepted and phoned their homes about the delay. The hour pa.s.sed quickly. After a gay get-acquainted session, Ned accompanied Nancy, Bess, and George back to the garage.

"I'll have the car ready in ten minutes," the mechanic promised.

The young people went outside and chatted about the recent events. But soon their attention was attracted by a group of men standing under a nearby street lamp discussing the Raybolt fire.

"'Pears mighty strange to me that a fire would start when the place ain't been occupied all summer," one elderly man commented.

"Old Raybolt deserved to be burnt out," another added. "The skinflint! He'd steal a crust of bread from a starvin' child!"

"Wouldn't surprise me if he burned the place down himself-to get the insurance," a third voice chimed in. "I wouldn't put it past Foxy Felix!"

Nancy and her friends heard no more, for at that moment the mechanic announced that her car was ready. "It's the best I could do on such short notice," he told her. "Better have your garage man give it a general overhauling when you get home."

While Ned backed the convertible out of the shop, Nancy paid the mechanic and asked him for a receipted bill. She explained that she wished to collect from the motorist who had crashed into her.

"I take it Mr. Raybolt isn't very well liked around here," Nancy remarked to Ned as she relieved him at the wheel.

"No, he isn't," Ned declared emphatically. "He's about as popular as a tiger who's escaped from a circus!"

"Apparently they call him Foxy Felix."

"Yes, and from all one hears about him the name is deserved." An odd expression flashed across Ned's face and he looked intently through the window at Nancy. "I also wonder what could have started that fire! You know, I have a sneaking suspicion it didn't start by accident."

"So have I," Nancy returned with a meaningful grin.

Before Ned could question her, she quickly but graciously thanked him for his help, then drove away.

"You girls haven't seen the last of me," the young man called gaily after them. "I know the road to River Heights. Don't be surprised if I follow it one of these days!"

CHAPTER III.

The Diary

"DID you hear what Ned Nickerson said?" Bess Marvin teasingly asked Nancy, who pretended to be intent upon her driving. "You've made a hit, all right!"

"Hit!" Nancy retorted. "The only thing that was. .h.i.t is the back of my car. Won't Dad be shocked when he sees the wreck I'm bringing home!"

"She's trying to change the subject!" George chortled. "Look at her blush. You can tell she likes him."

"Why shouldn't I?" Nancy defended herself stanchly. "Ned Nickerson certainly helped us out of a tight spot."

"He's handsome, too." Bess giggled. "And what a soulful expression in those big blue eyes of his when he looks at our Nancy!"

"Were they blue? I thought they were-" Nancy broke off as she realized that Bess had deliberately trapped her. "All right, you win!" She laughed. "But just to get even I've half a mind not to tell you what I discovered while we were at the fire."

"Oh, come on!" George pleaded.

"All right. I'll forgive you this time."

Nancy was eager to relate what she had observed at the Raybolt grounds, for she wondered if her chums would interpret the incident the same way. She told them of the suspicious, gaunt-looking stranger who had run away from the burning house.