“It’s the truth!” George spoke up indignantly.
“The idea of accusing my friend of passing bad
money on purpose! It’s ridiculous!”
“Ridiculous, is it?” the woman retorted an-
grily. “You’ll sing a different tune when you’re in
Jail!”
“You can’t have Nancy arrested. She didn’t re-
alize it was counterfeit money!” Bess protested.
“George and I have some cash. We’ll pay you
twenty good dollars to make up for the bad
one.”
As the cousins pooled their funds and handed
over the money, the woman quieted down.
“Maybe I was a little hasty,” she admitted. But
she was not entirely cowed. “How about your fa-
ther?” she asked Nancy. “How come he had
counterfeit bills?”
Nancy said she did not know, hut certainly he
had not acquired them dishonestly.
One of the Secret Service men said, “Suppose
you tell us who you are, and-”
“I’ll tell you who she is!” came an authorita-
tive voice from the doorway.
CHAPTER XIII
A Hesitant Hitchhiker
Unobserved by the girls, an automobile had
driven up and parked near the filling station. A
tall young man had alighted and started for the
lunchroom. Upon hearing the amazing con-
versation inside, he had halted. Then, realizing
Nancy was in need of help, he had stepped inside.
“Karll” Nancy cried out. She had never before
been so glad to see anyone!
“It looks as if I just got here in the nick of
time.” Karl Abbott Jr. smiled.
“They’re trying to arrest us!” Bess exclaimed.
“You’re kidding!” Karl cried in astonishment.
“It’s no joke,” Nancy returned earnestly, then
told him of her predicament.
“Look here,” Karl said bluntly, turning to the
two Secret Service agents, “you can’t hold these
girls.”
“Who are you?” one of the agents demanded.
“My name is Karl Abbott, and these girls are
friends of mine. As it happens, my father is living
at Red Gate Farm in Round Valley, where they
also are staying. I was on my way there when I
thought I’d stop for a bite to eat. Lucky I did,
tool”
“These girls may be friends of yours,” the un-
pleasant woman spoke up shrilly, “but this girl
had better explain why she gave me counterfeit
money!”
“If you’re accusing these girls of deliberately
trying to pass counterfeit money, you’re crazy!”
Karl Abbott cried out.
“You’re willing to vouch for the honesty of
this young lady’s father as well?” the agent
asked.
“Most definitely. This is Nancy Drew. No
doubt you’ve heard of her father, the famous
lawyer. If you haven’t, you soon will!”
“Not Carson Drew of River Heights?”
“Yes,” Karl replied.
“Why didn’t you tell us who you were?” the
restaurant owner asked.
“You didn’t give me a chance to tell you any-
thing!” Nancy retorted. “And you didn’t seem
ready to believe what I did have to say.”
The two agents looked at each other. One
asked to see Nancy’s driver’s license, then with a
smile he said, “Too bad you have such a loss
because of the counterfeit money. The outfit
which is distributing the twenty-dollar bills is a
clever one.
“The money is turning up in many places. I’ll
get in touch with your father to find out where
he was given the bills. Incidentally, we under-
stand a few women are mixed up in the racket.
That’s why we detained you.”
“Let’s get out of here!” George urged.
The girls hurriedly left the lunchroom with
Karl. The government agents leisurely followed
them outside.
As Nancy was about to step into her car, she
thought of something. It occurred to her that by
some remote chance the investigators might be
interested in the phony message which she had
brought with her.
“This may or may not have anything to do
with the case,” she told them, handing over the
scented note. “But the signature is a forgery, and
the perfume has some mystery to it.”
She gave a brief account of her own involve-
ment with the mystery, beginning with her en-
counter on the train with the man who had men-
tioned “the Chief,” and ending with the code.
“If the rest of the code can be deciphered,”
Nancy concluded, “that might give us the answer