Part 17 (1/2)
”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.