name typed on it.
“This seems like a peculiar way for your father
to get in touch with you,” Mrs. Byrd remarked.
“Why didn’t he phone if it’s urgent?”
“I don’t understand it myself,” Nancy an-
swered, as she tore open the letter.
The message was typewritten and was succinct.
Nancy was to return home at once. Her father
needed her. She was not to try to communicate
with him. He could not explain why. It was
signed “Dad.”
Nancy read the letter to Mrs. Byrd. “Oh, I
couldn’t let you start out at this time of night
alone,” the woman said at once. “You must wait
until morning.”
“This whole thing doesn’t seem like Dad,”
Nancy reflected. “He wouldn’t send a terse note
like this even if he were in some kind of trouble.”
Mrs. Byrd was very much concerned. “It seems
to me he would have called you on the phone in
an emergency,” she offered thoughtfully.
“Yes,” Nancy agreed, “that’s why this puzzles
me so. But don’t you worry about it, Mrs. Byrd.
This is something I’ll have to try to figure out
myself.”
“But, my dear,” Mrs. Byrd repeated, “it’s im-
possible for you to do anything about it at this
hour.”
Nancy carefully studied the note again. Sud-
denly she became aware of a familiar scent of
perfume. The young detective held the envelope
to her nostrils. It had been handled by someone
who used the distinctive Blue Jade scent which
Bess had purchased!
Instantly Nancy was alerted. “It wouldn’t sur-
prise me, Mrs. Byrd, if this letter is a phony! I’m
going to call Dad, even though it’s an unearthly
hour to waken him.”
She picked up the receiver in the hall. No
sound reached her ears. “I’m afraid the line is
dead,” she told Mrs. Byrd. “Does this happen
often?”
“It has never happened before,” Mrs. Byrd
said. “I made a call after supper and everything
was all right then.”
Nancy stood in perplexed silence. Had her fa-
ther tried to get her, found the line out of order,
then given the note to the couple? The woman
might have carried the letter in a handbag which
contained a purse-size bottle of the Oriental per-
fume.
“In that case I ought to start for River
Heights,” Nancy thought. But a feeling of suspi-
cion about the whole thing overpowered her. It
might be a trap. The telephone line could have
been cut. One or more persons might try to cap-
ture her on the road.
“But why?” Nancy asked herself repeatedly.
She came to the conclusion that the Hale Syndi-
cate was back of the incident. They must have
found out she had reported her suspicions to the
police and somehow had learned where she was
staying.
She turned to Mrs. Byrd and said, “I’ll wait un-
til seven o’clock, then try the phone again. If it
still isn’t working, I’ll go to town and call Dad.”
“Thank you, dear.” Mrs. Byrd patted Nancy
on the shoulder. “But don’t go anywhere alone.
Take Bess and George with you.”
“I will.”
Promptly at seven o’clock Nancy tried to get
in touch with her father but the phone still was
not working. Joanne was already up, but Nancy
roused Bess and George. The three girls were
astounded to learn about the note.
“We’ll get breakfast in town,” Nancy told Mrs.
Byrd as she prepared to drive off with her
friends. “And if I don’t have to go to River
Heights, I can do your shopping, too. Suppose
you give me the list.”
Halfway to town, George said suddenly,
“Nancy, isn’t your gasoline tank nearly empty?”
Nancy nodded. “I’m glad you reminded me.
Watch for a station and we’ll stop.”
Presently Bess sighted one on the main road.
“It’s the same place we stopped to eat on our way
to the farm,” she said.
“So it is,” George remarked.
“I can phone from here,” Nancy decided.
She turned in at the gravel driveway, but as two
other cars were ahead of her, she drew up some
distance from the pump.
“How about getting breakfast here after you
phone?” Bess suggested.
The girls agreed. Bess and George entered the