The Clue In The Diary Part 17

"I wonder if a diary was found. I lost one. Probably dropped it along the road."

Nancy made no move to give him the diary, although she was convinced that it was his.

"I hated to lose that little journal," Joe Swenson continued. "It was written mostly in Swedish and wouldn't be of any value except to myself-and to Felix Raybolt. That sly fox!"

"What has the diary to do with Mr. Raybolt?" Nancy asked.

"The diary contains-" Joe Swenson hesitated. "Well, it contains things Felix Raybolt wishes were not written down. That man cheated me out of a fortune, but I haven't a chance to prove my case without the diary and without money to retain a lawyer. To make matters worse, I've even lost a ring I treasured highly."

He made a hopeless gesture and lapsed into gloomy silence.

Again Nancy's hand went to the diary in her purse. Again she hesitated. Suppose Joe Swenson were guilty, and she was withholding evidence from the police! Nancy made a quick decision: to hold onto the journal until the truth was learned.

Before she could question the man further, the return-to-work whistle blew a shrill blast.

"I must go now," Swenson said hurriedly.

"When are you off duty?" Nancy asked.

"Four o'clock."

"Then perhaps we'll see you again before we return to River Heights." Noticing the man's surprise, she added quickly, "Wouldn't you like me to carry a message to Mrs. Swenson and Honey?"

"Thank you. But I'll write to them again."

Nancy and her friends watched him until he had disappeared inside the building. The girls then walked slowly back to the car.

"I'll bet," said George, "that Joe Swenson is worried about the fire, and will run away again."

Nancy remained silent, in deep thought. Just as she reached the convertible someone grabbed her arm roughly. She turned to face a tough, cruel-looking man.

CHAPTER XIII.

The Law Takes Over

"LET go of me!" Nancy cried out, and tried to shake off the man's iron grip. When she did not succeed, Bess and George started pounding the man and forced him to release Nancy's arm.

"What do you want?" Nancy demanded indignantly.

"Some information. Why are you snooping around here?" the stranger snarled.

"Are you a factory guard?" Nancy countered, knowing from his clothes and manner that he most certainly was not.

"Why-uh-yes. That's what I am. And I got a right to know why you been talkin' to that workman."

"The conversation was private," Nancy told the man firmly. "Now if you'll just move-"

For a moment the obnoxious stranger did not seem inclined to do so, but finally he strode off down the street. The girls stepped into the car and drove away.

"Nancy, aren't you worried?" Bess asked. "That man was positively horrible."

"Yes, I am, Bess. Because I'm more certain than ever that Joe Swenson is in some kind of jam."

"If we can see him at four o'clock, I'm going to ask him about that crude person," declared George. "Say, Nancy, where are you going now?"

"Yes, where?" Bess echoed. "I'm starving!"

Nancy laughed. "I could use some lunch myself. After that, I'll introduce myself to Phil Roberts' father."

"The Stanford postmaster!" Bess exclaimed. "Nancy, you're not transferring your affections from Ned to Phil already!"

"Nothing like that," Nancy a.s.sured her with a grin. "I have a little scheme I'd like to try out and I need his cooperation."

Nancy stopped speaking as she drove into a public parking lot next to a tearoom. The girls went inside and were fortunate to be seated at the last available table. It was such a noisy place that the girls did not try to talk.

Half an hour later they came out of the tearoom, glad to breathe the fresh air and escape the din. Since the post office was close by, the girls walked there. Seeing a door sign marked:PRIVATE

POSTMASTER.

Nancy went to it and knocked. Presently it was opened by a pleasant, middle-aged man.

"I'm Nancy Drew from River Heights," she said, smiling. "I met your son Phil at a party."

"Oh, yes! Phil told me. Won't you come in?"

After the girls had entered and the door had been closed, Nancy introduced her friends.

"I've come on an unusual errand, Mr. Roberts," Nancy said. "A man I know who works at Stanford Electronics has sent two letters containing money orders from here. Neither has been received. Probably all your employees are above suspicion, but would you mind if I make a little experiment?"

The postmaster smiled. "What kind of experiment?"

"I'll mail a note to the man's wife with a money order in it from your office," Nancy explained. "Could you possibly find out if that letter is sent out from here?"

Mr. Roberts looked intently at Nancy. "You're a very ingenious young lady," he remarked. "And if the letter does leave here, then you'll check with the receiving post office to find out if it has reached there?"

"Yes. The family of this man is desperately in need of receiving money from him. I'm trying to help them."

"And I'll help too," the postmaster said suddenly. "Now, will you please give me the name and address of this woman?"

Nancy took Joe Swenson's unsealed envelope from her purse and Mr. Roberts copied the two names and addresses on it. As he handed it back, he said, "Mail this at once." Then he added, "If you come back in a couple of hours, I'll have a report for you-after I personally examine all the outgoing mailbags."

"I'll be here." Nancy thanked the postmaster and the three girls went into the main lobby. There, Nancy bought the twenty-five-dollar money order, kept the purchaser's receipt, and tucked the other section, properly filled out, into the letter. Then she sealed the envelope and slipped the letter into the nearby slot.

When the girls reached the street, Bess said, "That was a daring thing to do, Nancy. Suppose the letter is intercepted, and the money order cashed by some unscrupulous person?"