The baker glanced through it before starting to read aloud. "The writer of this journal is an inventor, I see," he commented. "It's not a day-by-day account. Apparently he put down only the most important events."

Mr. Peterson began to translate. Much of what had been written was delightful and informative, but had no bearing on the Raybolt case.

After a while Nancy interrupted to say, "If you're becoming tired, please stop. I'll come back another time."

"Don't you worry, Nancy. I feel fine."

He read on. "'Today,' " the diarist had written, "'I went to see a man who sells inventions to big companies and shares the royalties with the inventors. His name is Raybolt. Tomorrow I shall take him my drawings and typed instructions for the electrochemical process and machine which will put a special ceramic finish on steel to resist high temperatures.' "

Mr. Peterson turned the page and translated a description of the meeting, during which Mr. Swenson had handed over everything to Felix Raybolt. He had been given a check for five hundred dollars and the verbal promise of a fifty-fifty royalty split in the future.

"'Mr. Raybolt,' " Mr. Peterson translated, "'is a very shrewd man. He confided to me that he didn't keep all his important papers and money in bank safe-deposit boxes. He has a secret hiding place in his house known to no one but himself. The-' "

"Just a minute!" Nancy cried out. "Please translate that part again about the secret hiding place!" To herself she added, "Maybe that's what Mr. Swenson meant when he said 'The book you have may help.' "

Mr. Peterson complied with Nancy's request, then looked up and smiled. "You see a mystery here?"

"Indeed I do. And one that ought to be solved. Did you know that Mr. Raybolt's house burned to the ground and he has disappeared?"

"I had not heard," the baker replied. "But then I do not know this Felix Raybolt. Shall I read further?"

"Oh, please do."

Mr. Peterson went on. There were many references to the invention with some technical language about how the machine and the chemicals worked to produce the desired finish on metals.

"This is proof without a doubt that the invention is Mr. Swenson's," Nancy thought excitedly.

She listened carefully. The diary came to an end without any mention of a contract between the two men. Nancy was elated. Joe Swenson had a good case against Felix Raybolt! She was eager to talk over the whole matter with her father.

"Mr. Peterson," she said, taking the diary, "you've been a tremendous help in this mixed-up mystery. Thank you very much."

"I am glad to have been of a.s.sistance," the baker replied. "The reading was most enjoyable. This writer of the diary is well educated and clever." Mr. Peterson smiled. "But he does not sound like a very good businessman. I presume that is why he is in some kind of trouble."

"That's exactly it," Nancy answered.

"Please translate that part again about the secret hiding place!" Nancy asked

"And you will get him out of the trouble," the baker said. He chuckled. "I just can't believe the little girl who loved cookies is now a detective!"

Nancy laughed, shook Mr. Peterson's hand fervently, and took her departure.

Wishing to see her father at once, she went directly to his office. Mr. Drew was about to leave, to be gone until later that evening.

"I can see you for about five minutes, Nancy," the lawyer said.

His daughter told Mr. Drew as quickly as possible what she had learned, and he agreed that the inventor had a good chance of winning his case-if Mr. Raybolt could be found.

"So far the police haven't a clue to his whereabouts, Nancy. I believe you came nearer to capturing him than anyone else has. It's too bad he moved out of that cabin."

"And worse that he has disappeared into thin air," Nancy replied. "But I'm not giving up!"

"That's the spirit," her father said affectionately. "Well, best of luck! And when you see Mr. Swenson, tell him not to worry."

Nancy drove home slowly as she tried to figure out the puzzle. When she reached the house, Hannah Gruen was taking a few minutes' rest and sipping a cup of tea. Nancy joined her and told of the most recent happenings.

"My goodness," said the housekeeper, "you've done several days' work in one! Now you must relax."

Nancy hardly touched her own cup of tea. She sat staring into s.p.a.ce, and understanding Mrs. Gruen did not interrupt the young sleuth's train of thought.

Suddenly Nancy cried, "I've just figured it out!"

"Figured what out?"

"How to trap Felix Raybolt!"

CHAPTER XIX.

Setting a Trap

NANCY told Hannah Gruen her plan. She believed that Felix Raybolt was hiding somewhere near the ruined estate, perhaps in the dense woods which adjoined the property, and she proposed to watch the place for a return visit.

"It's said that a criminal always returns to the scene of his crime," she declared. "And he has a special reason, besides-to get something out of the secret hiding place. Up till now, I understand, police guards have been stationed on the grounds day and night. The special investigators from out of town expected to finish their examination of the ruins today, and the guards would no longer be necessary."

"What do you plan to do?" Mrs. Gruen asked.

"Bess and George and I will watch for him tonight. We may waste our time, but I have a feeling-I can't explain it-that we'll catch him near the burned house."

"It sounds risky, Nancy. How about taking a man with you?"

"Dad won't be home to supper. He'll be out for the evening." After a pause Nancy added, "Maybe I can get Ned Nickerson."

"Please do that."

Nancy telephoned Ned's house but there was no answer. "I'll stop there when I get to Mapleton," she told Hannah.

When George received Nancy's call, she was intrigued to hear about the secret hiding place where Mr. Raybolt kept valuable papers.

"Where do you suppose it is-or was?" George asked.

"If it's still intact," Nancy replied, "there's only one spot for a hiding place-behind the stones of the cellar wall. Even if Mr. Raybolt doesn't show up, I'd like to try to find it. So come dressed for some digging!"

Nancy made the same request of Bess and added that she would pick her up in forty-five minutes.

"Fine," said Bess. "That'll give me time to eat and get dressed. I'll be ready."