Part 12 (2/2)
Five miles farther on she turned into the narrow short cut across Sunview Mountain. The twisting road, bordered by tangled undergrowth and dense woods, was deserted.
Bess s.h.i.+vered. ”The wildest section in the county!” she exclaimed nervously. ”Just the sort of place a criminal would choose for a hideout. For goodness sake, Nancy, step on the gas!”
”This is a spooky road,” George murmured presently. ”Wouldn't it be funny if we should come upon Joe Swenson, peering out at us from the bushes?”
”Funny?” Bess demanded. ”I'd be frightened out of my wits. Wouldn't you, Nancy?”
”Well, I don't know,” the other returned truthfully. ”I'm eager to find that man.”
”So am I,” Bess replied, ”but I'd rather not run into any stranger in this out-of-the-way spot!”
Nancy did not reply immediately, and her friends noticed that she appeared to be scanning the woods searchingly.
”You think the criminal actually might be hiding along this road?” Bess demanded anxiously.
Nancy nodded. ”It's possible.”
”Turn back!” Bess pleaded. ”No telling what he might do to us!”
”Don't get jittery,” Nancy advised. ”Remember, we have to find out if Joe Swenson works at the plant in Stanford.”
As they drove along the winding road, the three girls maintained a vigilant lookout. Suddenly Bess cried out:
”There's a man ahead, at the side of the road! He's motioning us to stop! Don't do it, Nancy!”
CHAPTER X.
A Spooky Shack
INSTINCTIVELY Nancy pressed down hard on the gas pedal and shot past the man. In the rear-view mirror she saw an astonished look on his face. She slowed to a normal pace and laughed in relief.
”A hitchhiker! He probably thinks I'm crazy!”
The stranger did not in the least resemble a criminal type. He looked kind and pleasant.
”Better safe then sorry,” Bess defended herself as they left the amazed hitchhiker far behind.
”I'll have to agree with you on that,” said George.
Presently Nancy came to a fork in the road and stopped the convertible. There were no signs to indicate which road led toward the Weston factory.
”I'd turn to the left,” Bess advised.
”The right-hand turn looks more likely to me,” George insisted. ”Look-I see a shack over among those trees. Why not inquire there?”
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