"Dad's wonderful," Nancy said, as Mrs. Pauling led the way into the house, then through a long, wide hall and out a rear door to a beautiful patio garden. "I'm up here on vacation and happened to stumble on a mystery. It may concern the old stagecoach you donated to Bridgeford. May I tell you about it?"

"Please do," Mrs. Pauling said, as she indicated comfortable chaise lounges and chairs. "Let's sit down here." She stretched out on one of the lounges while her caller chose a bamboo chair.

Nancy told about Mrs. Strook and her great-uncle, AbnerLangstreet. By the time she had finished her story, Mrs. Pauling was leaning forward, listening intently.

"I'm certainly going to help all I can," she remarked. "If the men who worked on the old stagecoach found anything in it, they failed to tell me. But I'll phone the carpenter and the painter at once and find out what they know."

Mrs. Pauling arose and walked to the ground-level porch to use a wall telephone. As Nancy waited, she picked up a local newspaper. There were large headlines telling the sad plight of the Francisville school children.

"Poor kids! If I could only find that clue," Nancy thought, "it might help the situation!"

When Mrs. Pauling returned, she said that the carpenter had not come across anything unusual while restoring the old stagecoach. But he admitted that he had not taken the vehicle completely apart. Something might be hidden, he thought, deep inside the cushions, behind the upholstered sides, or even between the leather lining and the wood of the compartment beneath the driver's feet. The painter could offer no help either.

Mrs. Pauling sat lost in thought for several seconds. Then she said, "Tomorrow morning I'll have John O'Brien bring the stagecoach back here. I'll ask the carpenter to come over. You and he can take the old stagecoach entirely apart if necessary to find this clue that is going to mean so much to the town of Francisville."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" cried Nancy, who felt like hugging the woman. "And may I bring along my friends who are vacationing with me?"

"By all means," Mrs. Pauling said graciously.

Nancy, eager to tell Mrs. Strook and Bess and George the good news, said good-by to Mrs. Pauling, hurried through the hall, and out the front door toward her car. As she neared the convertible, a tall, muscular man in work clothes strode from among the trees in front of the house. He was about fifty years of age and had a very sour expression.

"Are you Nancy Drew?" he asked, stepping directly toward her.

"Yes."

Suddenly the stranger began to wave a finger in Nancy's face. "I'm here to tell you," he cried out, "that I don't want all these city folks movin' in and ruinin' our countryside! Water pipes, electric lights, and now a new school that's goin' to cost a mint o' money to us taxpayers! I won't have it, I tell you!"

As the irate man paused for breath, Nancy, who had stepped back in dismay, said in defense, "I have nothing to do with all those things!"

"Yes you do!" the stranger shouted at the top of his voice. "You're part o' this whole deal! Now you keep your nose out o' our community affairs!"

He glared belligerently at Nancy. "If you don't," he warned, "you're goin' to get hurt!"

CHAPTER IV.

Hard-fought Games

Too amazed to reply again, Nancy stared at the truculent stranger. As he burst into a second tirade, the two police dogs suddenly raced around the corner of the house and growled.

"Good boys!" Nancy cried out.

The intruder did not wait to find out whether the dogs were friendly or not. Turning on his heel, he ran with long strides and disappeared among the trees. The dogs raced after him, giving deepthroated barks.

Nancy waited. Within three minutes the dogs were back. Turning to step into her car, she saw Mrs. Pauling in the doorway. The thought occurred to Nancy that perhaps the woman might know the intruder. She asked her.

"No, I never saw him before," Mrs. Pauling replied. "What a dreadful creature! I arrived too late to hear all he was saying to you. At the end, though, it sounded like a threat."

Nancy admitted that it was. "I think I'll hurry down to the main road and see if I can find out who he is. He's probably running off in a car. I'll follow him."

The young sleuth jumped into her convertible and sped off. But when she reached the main road, there was no car in sight and no sign of the strange man.

"If he lives around here," Nancy told herself, "shopkeepers in town probably know him. I'll go into Francisville and make some inquiries."

As she drove along the tree-shaded main street, Nancy noted that all the buildings were old-fashioned, with the exception of a new large, brightly lighted supermarket. Seeing a quaint-looking drugstore, Nancy decided that the proprietor might be a good person to interview. The drugstore owner, a short, plump, jolly person, smiled at Nancy and asked what she would like.

"First some information," she said, returning the smile. "Then a few cosmetics."

She described the intruder at the Pauling estate, and without revealing the warning he had given her, told of his dislike for newcomers in the area. "Have you any idea who he might be?"

The druggist, Mr. Benfield, did not hesitate in his answer. "That sounds exactly like Judd Hillary. He's a bachelor and dislikes children. Furthermore, he has no use for city people and especially the ones who have moved into this community recently. He declares they're causing too many changes in our quiet little village."

"Would you call him a dangerous individual?" Nancy asked, chuckling.

"Oh, no, I'd just say queer-very queer." Despite this rea.s.surance, Nancy still felt a little worried. She could not forget Judd Hillary's glare of hate or his angry warning. She asked Mr. Benfield if there were many people in the community who felt the same as Mr. Hillary did.

"There are some. He's sort of a self-appointed chairman of the group. All of them complain about the raising of our taxes and the fact that the town will be bankrupt if we try to build a new school. It is true that we cannot afford the school, yet we badly need one. To accommodate all the children this fall it will be necessary to run cla.s.ses from eight in the morning until six at night, and frankly I don't know how long our teachers are going to be able to stand this. And our money will certainly run out by spring."

"That's a shame," said Nancy and added with a smile, "I suppose your only solution is to have some good fairy leave a lot of money here."

"That's about the size of it," Mr. Benfield agreed.

To herself Nancy said, "Oh, I hope I can be the one to bring that windfall to Francisville!"

She bought a new compact, two tiny bottles of perfume for Bess and George, and some paper handkerchiefs. Then, thanking the druggist for his information, she left the shop.

Nancy drove directly to Camp Merriweather. When she reached her room, the young sleuth noticed that Bess and George were seated glumly in the adjoining bedroom. Quickly she went in and asked, "What's wrong?"

Bess heaved a tremendous sigh and George said, her words clipped and showing deep annoyance, "The sports director had drawings this morning for the tennis tournament. Bess and I decided to go into the doubles. We picked two names out of the grab bag. One guess."

"Not Ross and Audrey Monteith!" Nancy exclaimed.

"n.o.body else," George replied. "Can you imagine such luck!"

"I'm so mad I don't even want to talk about it," Bess spoke up. "Nancy, tell us what you found out."

She and George listened attentively to the whole story. When Nancy reached the part about Judd Hillary's warning, both girls frowned.

"Oh, Nancy, maybe you'd better give up this mystery," Bess said fearfully. "At first it was fun. Now it sounds positively sinister."

"Mr. Benfield, the druggist in Francisville, thinks Judd Hillary is just queer, not dangerous. I see no reason why he and I should ever meet again."

"Why, Nancy," said George admonishingly, "don't you realize that Judd Hillary somehow found out about your interest in helping the town of Francisville and followed you to Mrs. Pauling's?"

Nancy looked startled. "George, believe it or not, I didn't think of that. And you're absolutely right. Well, I promise you both I'll watch my step. If I forget, you two just reach out and grab me."

She went on to say that the following morning she and the cousins ought to be on hand to see the old stagecoach dissected. "If we find the clue, then we shan't have to worry any more about Judd Hillary, anyway."