Part 4 (1/2)

She took them out. There were six, taken years

89.

SUSPICIOUS FIGURES.

before when the dancer was at the height of her career. Several were inscribed with her name and a greeting. The face was a distinctive one. Care- fully Nancy noted the perfect features, the beauti- ful dark eyes, the straight nose and firm chin.

”Julie may have changed a great deal since I last saw her,” Mrs. Fenimore remarked. ”Ten years have gone by.”

”Your sister is lovely,” Nancy commented.

”Joan looks a little like her.”

”Yes, she does. And certainly my daughter has Julie's vivacious ways. She's quite a little actress.

Maybe someday-”

Mrs. Fenimore looked sadly into s.p.a.ce. Lieu- tenant Masters, fearing the conversation had up- set the woman, said they must leave.

”Please try not to worry,” Nancy urged Mrs.

Fenimore who handed her a photograph as they said good-by.

When she and the officer reached their cars, Nancy thanked Lieutenant Masters for her help.

”Call on me any time,” the young woman said as she drove off.

Nancy decided to take a walk and think about the case.

As she wandered up the street, children were coming home from school to lunch. She saw Joan playing with an older boy in a vacant lot. They were tossing a ball for a dog to retrieve.

”That boy looks familiar,” Nancy thought as she walked over to the children. Suddenly, in a fit of temper, the boy hit the dog with a stick.

”Cut it out!” he shouted. ”You're chewing my ball to pieces!”

Joan screamed.

”Stop that!” Nancy ordered. ”The dog hasn't hurt your ball. He was only playing.”

The boy gazed at her with hard, unfriendly eyes. ”Is he your dog?” he asked impudently.

”No.”

”Then it's none of your business if I hit him.”

Nancy started to reply, but it was not neces- sary. The dog dropped the ball and slunk off.

The boy picked it up. Then, giving Nancy a baleful look, he ran away.

Nancy took Joan by the hand and led her off.

As tactfully as possible she suggested that the child ought to find a girl playmate.

”Teddy Hooper's okay. He's the only one that lives close to me,” Joan replied, skipping happily along beside her companion. ”I don't like him when he's mean, but most of the time he's a lot of fun. He always thinks up exciting things to do.”

”You'd better hurry home to lunch,” Nancy said. ”I'll go with you. My car's there.”

When they reached the house, Joan hugged Nancy, then ran inside. Nancy was sure she had made a firm friend of the little girl.

”I'm not far from Salty's,” the young detec- tive said to herself. ”I'll drive there and find out if he has seen that man who crashed into our boat.”

In a little while she came to the clam digger's home. The sailor was on the sh.o.r.e repairing his rowboat.

”Well, now, me la.s.s, I'm glad to see you,” he said. ”But I'm afraid I haven't got good news.”

”You mean about the boat?”

”I've looked high an' low for that damaged boat,” the man said regretfully. ”It's not tied up anywhere along here.”

”How about Harper's Inlet?” Nancy asked.

Salty admitted he had not been there. ”Too busy,” he explained. ”Maybe I'll go this after- noon. I need a mess o' clams an' there be some up the inlet. You want to come along? I'll show you the Heath factory.”

For Nancy the opportunity was too good to pa.s.s up. She was eager to visit the spot.

”Just tell me when to be here,” she said.

After settling on three o'clock, she remarked, ”I'll bring along one of my friends.”

Nancy hurried home for a quick lunch, then telephoned George. Promptly at three o'clock the two girls met Salty at the waterfront.

”I'll put ye to work,” the sailor chuckled as he gathered together his fis.h.i.+ng and clamming equipment. ”Help me load these into the row- boat, will you?”

The old man's muscular arms rippled as he dug the oars into the tranquil waters of the Muskoka River. Presently he and his pa.s.sengers were skimming along at a rapid rate. Behind the craft trailed a long copper wire which gleamed in the sunlight.

”I'm trollin' for my dinner tonight,” Salty ex- plained. ”There's somethin' yankin' on my line right now, I do believe 1”

He rested the oars and pulled in the line. Fi- nally a four-pound speckled ba.s.s flopped into the boat.

”She's a beauty,” he said, grinning.

While the girls kept the craft from drifting downstream. Salty removed the hook from the fish and dropped his catch into a woven basket.

Then he wound up the copper troll line and put it away.