"Sir, I demand an explanation for this outrageous treatment. Never before in my life have I been so abused and insulted!"

The manager had not spoken a word. He could only stare.

"Oh, Mr. Bartescue, this is all a mistake," he said finally.

"A mistake!" George exclaimed indignantly. "This man is a forger. I heard you say so yourself when you were talking in a telephone booth. Or at least I thought it was you."

"It's not Martin Bartescue who is wanted for forgery," the manager said.

"But the letters B-A-R-"

"They stand for Barney. One of our newly employed cooks, a man by the name of Jennings, forged a hundred-dollar check. He used the signature of Barney Milton, who is our caddy master. Mr. Bartescue had nothing whatever to do with the matter."

George murmured in confusion, "I shouldn't have acted so impulsively, only I thought Mr. Bartescue was under suspicion even before this. He has written his name so many different ways."

"I can explain that," Barty said coldly.

"Then please do," Bess insisted.

"I shall explain nothing to you," the man retorted. "When Miss Drew comes I will tell her-in private!"

He turned and walked toward the hotel. The manager hastened after him, continuing to offer apologies for the mistake.

"I seem to have achieved the prize boo-boo," George said contritely.

"But the fact remains," Bess agreed soberly, "that Bartescue still has a lot to explain."

"We must find Nancy immediately," George declared urgently. "Barty may slip away, and then we'll never learn the reason for his strange actions."

CHAPTER XVIII.

Exonerated

FOLLOWING Margaret Judson's plaintive announcement that she could not face her former fiance, Nancy tried to draw the full story from the young woman. Margaret said again that it was because she had been accused of being a thief.

"But you're innocent, aren't you?" Ned asked.

"Oh, yes, yes. I have never done anything dishonest in my life. And please forgive my tears," Margaret Judson replied in embarra.s.sment.

Finding Nancy and Ned sympathetic, the young woman began to explain the situation.

"It happened a little over two years ago," she said. "On the way home from a trip abroad I met a charming woman named Mrs. Brownell and we became good friends. I finally invited her to spend a weekend at my home."

"Your house near Deer Mountain Hotel?" Nancy asked.

"Yes. I was living there at the time. Mrs. Brownell accepted my invitation. One evening before dinner I learned that my guest loved beautiful jewelry. I opened the safe and showed her a small chest containing my family heirlooms. Instead of returning it to the safe, as I should have done, I placed the chest in my bureau drawer,

"That night as I was preparing for bed, Mrs. Brownell came to my room to show me a jeweled compact. It was exquisite. We chatted for a time, then she went back to her room. Later I noticed she had left the compact on my dresser."

"You didn't attempt to return it to her?" Nancy asked in surprise.

"Mrs. Brownell had retired before I realized she'd left it, so I put the compact in the chest. I meant to give it to her early in the morning. Fire broke out during the night.

"It seemed to be everywhere at once. When I awoke, my bedroom was filled with smoke, and flames were shooting up the stairway. I ran to Mrs. Brownell's room and awakened her. By then it was too late to save very much, and we were forced to escape down a porch trellis."

"Did you forget the box of jewelry?" Nancy asked.

"No, I wrapped it in some of my clothing. Then I s.n.a.t.c.hed up my pocketbook and managed to escape just an instant before the floor of my room crashed. In terror, I ran toward Joe Haley's cabin.

"Somehow I got lost. I remember stumbling across the ravine bridge, but my memory about what happened after that isn't very clear. Apparently I wandered through the woods until I blacked out. In any event, hours elapsed before I recovered consciousness. I was chilled to the bone.

"When I looked about, the bundle of clothing and my pocketbook were still beside me. The little chest of jewelry with Mrs. Brownell's compact was gone."

"Where was Mrs. Brownell?" Ned put in.

"I don't know. I'm not sure if she followed me across the bridge."

"Did you notice footprints when you woke up? Which way did they go?" Nancy queried.

Margaret Judson shook her head. "I was too excited to notice anything. I wandered about in a semi-dazed condition, hoping I'd find the jewelry. It seemed certain I must have dropped it somewhere in the woods.

"When dawn came I knew that the search was useless and I was exhausted. I staggered to Mr. Haley's cabin and told him about the fire and that I'd lost the chest. I begged him to try to find it. He promised he would."

"Was the jewelry extremely valuable?" Ned asked.

"Yes, several of the pieces were priceless. Among them was my diamond engagement ring. I valued it more than anything else. And, of course, Mrs. Brownell's jeweled compact was worth a small fortune."

"According to her estimate," Nancy remarked. "Did you agree?"

"She came to see me later and said it was valued at six thousand dollars. I wouldn't know its worth," Margaret answered. "She blamed me entirely for the loss."

"How could she do that when she left the compact on your dresser?" Ned spoke up.

Margaret shrugged. "Mrs. Brownell demanded that I return it immediately or pay her the amount. She threatened to turn me over to the police. I would have paid the money gladly but I couldn't afford to. I had only a small bank account. Nearly everything I owned except a few acres of land was destroyed in the fire. Unfortunately the insurance policy on the property had lapsed."

Nancy said thoughtfully, "I doubt that she could have proved any claim against you."

"You mean she couldn't have had me arrested?"

"I don't think so."

"She would have said that I had hidden the jewel case deliberately."

"Even so, Mrs. Brownell couldn't have won her case without proof," Ned told her. "You should have consulted a lawyer."

"I realize that now, but at the time I was panic-stricken. I ran away and lived for a while in Chicago."