As Nancy halted the car before the old house, she saw that the child had fallen asleep under a tree. A large dog lay at her feet as though on guard. At the girls' approach he jumped up and growled.

Nancy and her friends scarcely knew whether to advance or retreat, for the dog looked vicious and seemed determined to protect his tiny charge from the strangers. As they were hesitating, the child awoke. She recognized the girls at once, and scrambling up from the gra.s.s, ran toward them.

Despite her faded play suit and badly scuffed shoes, Honey was an attractive youngster. Her real name was Helen Ebba Swenson, but she had always been called Honey because of her sweet disposition. Her eyes were a bright blue, her fair skin was dotted with brown freckles, and her golden hair curled in a hundred ringlets.

"h.e.l.lo, Honey," Nancy greeted her. "Is your mother at home?"

The child shook her head. "Mommy's gone to the post office to get a letter from Daddy. I wanted to go, but she said it was too far for me to walk."

"Isn't your father at home?" Nancy inquired softly.

"Oh, no," Honey replied in her most grown-up manner. "He's been gone a long time. Mommy's worried. That's why she went to the post office today."

Nancy and her friends exchanged quick glances. Mrs. Swenson apparently still was awaiting word from her husband.

"Mommy'll be coming home soon," Honey went on, "'cause it's suppertime. I'm hungry, too."

With a pang Nancy saw that the youngster looked thinner than ever.

"Mommy said if she could sell some of the eggs from our hens, she'd bring me something good to eat. I'm tired of eggs. We eat them all the time since Daddy left."

"Haven't you anything else?" George asked bluntly.

"We have a little bread. Mommy says we must make our money last until we hear from Daddy. She doesn't know where he went and she cries a lot."

Honey went on to tell the girls about her dog, Hans. "Daddy and I used to take him walking. Hans misses Daddy same as I do. Nancy, let's all go in the house. I want to show you my toys Daddy made."

Honey led the way inside. The living room was neat and smelled fresh and clean. There was little furniture, one very small rug, and no draperies at the windows. Nancy's eye was attracted to a photograph that stood on a small table.

"Whose picture is that?" she asked Honey.

"My daddy!" Honey answered proudly.

Nancy's heart sank. It was a photograph of the stranger she had seen running away from the fire!

"Oh, dear!" she thought. "This is the worst situation I've ever been in!"

By this time Honey had brought out her toys from a cupboard. All were homemade, and several were mechanical, each one cleverly fashioned.

"My daddy's an in-ven-tor." The little girl had trouble p.r.o.nouncing the word. "That's why he went away-to get back one of his in-ven-tions."

Nancy, Bess, and George looked at one another horrified. The same thoughts raced through their minds. Mr. Swenson an inventor! The Swedish diary Nancy had found at the scene of the fire! Mr. Raybolt's broken promises to inventors!

Bess, to hide tears that were gathering, walked into the kitchen. On impulse she opened the refrigerator and cupboards. They were practically empty. She came back and whispered to the others.

"Something must be done," Bess declared. "Why, Honey and her mother haven't enough to keep them from starving."

"It's up to us," Nancy announced firmly. "I have an idea! We'll all eat supper here!"

As George and Bess looked puzzled, Nancy hastily explained her plan. She would drive to Sandy Creek, pick up Honey's mother, and purchase enough food for supper.

"We'll have a regular feast," she promised. "How much money do you girls have with you?"

"Two dollars and ten cents," Bess said, opening her purse.

"I have only one dollar with me," George announced apologetically.

"With what I have that will be enough," Nancy said briskly. "I'll pay you both back when we get home."

"No you won't," George protested. "We're all in on this."

"Fine!" Nancy smiled. "You girls stay here with Honey. I'll hurry back as quickly as I can."

"Honey's mother may not like our interfering," Bess ventured doubtfully.

"I'll be tactful," Nancy promised.

Honey followed her to the car, eying Nancy with worshipful eyes.

"I like ice cream," she ventured with a timid smile.

"I'll bring some," Nancy said. "And plenty of other good things. A bone, with meat on it, for Hans, too!"

She drove away swiftly. A quarter mile down the road she caught sight of a woman trudging along dejectedly. Honey's mother!

Nancy was quick to observe the downcast expression on the woman's face and guessed that she had received no word from her husband. Undoubtedly Mrs. Swenson had hoped that he would send money so that she might purchase food.

"Poor thing!" Nancy thought. "I don't believe I can ever bring myself to tell her about the diary. If her husband has done wrong, it will break her heart."

Pulling over to the side of the road, she called a cheery greeting. Mrs. Swenson started in surprise as she recognized Nancy.

"Won't you let me drive you home?" Nancy asked her.

"But you're going in the opposite direction," Mrs. Swenson protested.

"Oh, that's perfectly all right," Nancy replied, as the woman wearily climbed in beside her.

"I'm on my way to town to buy some things," Nancy explained, "but as soon as I've purchased them, I'll take you straight home. You won't mind the extra ride, will you?"

"Indeed I won't." Mrs. Swenson smiled faintly. "I don't feel as though I could walk another step. I must get home soon, though, for my little girl hasn't had her supper."

Nancy wondered what would be the best way in which to broach the plan to Mrs. Swenson about the "feast."

"Well, here goes!" Nancy thought. "If she refuses, there's nothing the girls and I can do except return home."

CHAPTER VII.