sealing off the entrance to the closet.
When she regained consciousness Nancy found
herself in total darkness and wondered where she
was. Slowly the dazed girl got to her feet and felt
around her prison. At last she found a door and
tried it. It would not budge, and there was no
other exit.
“What’ll I do?” she thought. “And where is
George?”
Suddenly Nancy heard her name being called.
With all her strength she pushed against the
door. It yielded slightly. Through the crack she
shouted, “George!”
“Nancy! Where are you?” came a muffled reply.
“Here! In the closet!”
Salty and George leaped across the rubble.
With the rake and their hands and feet they
cleared away enough of the debris to free Nancy.
As she squeezed outside, Salty mumbled:
“Thank goodness you’re alive!”
George embraced her friend in excited relief.
“You feel all right?”
“I think so. What caused the explosion?”
Suddenly Nancy recalled the two men who had
run from the building. “What became of those
men who were in here? Did you see them, Salty?”
The clam digger shook his head. “I saw no
one.”
Nancy, George, and Salty plunged through the
marsh grass toward the riverbank. The damaged
motorboat was no longer there.
“Those rascals sneaked away, drat ’em!” Salty
muttered in disgust. “Do you think that makes
’em guilty, Nancy?”
“Guilty on two counts,” the girl replied.
“Guilty of damaging the boat I rented, and most
likely, guilty of causing the explosion.”
“But why set off an explosion?” George asked.
Nancy shrugged. She did not want to mention
any of her theories just yet, but it occurred to her
that Daniel Hector may have been covering up
some incriminating evidence against himself. Mrs.
Fenimore had vehemently declared that she did
not trust the lawyer.
During the trip back to Salty’s dock, the clam
digger and the girls kept their eyes open for the
blue-and-white motorboat. But they did not see it.
“I’ll be glad to take ye on a trip again,” the
amiable man offered when they reached River
Heights.
Nancy thanked him. On the way home she was
thoughtful, and could hardly wait for the moment
when she could talk to her father. In his den after
dinner she told about Daniel Hector’s apparent
connection with the explosion at the Heath but-
ton factory.
“But why would Hector want to damage prop-
erty he’s obligated to look after?” Mr. Drew asked.
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“I’m sure there’s a great deal more to the Heath
case than Juliana’s disappearance,” Nancy de-
clared. “The explosion today, for example. There
may be something pretty sinister in back of it all.”
“I agree with you,” Mr. Drew said soberly.
“Nancy, I know it’s useless to ask you to give up
trying to solve a mystery-”
“Oh, it is, Dad!”
“At least I can ask you to be careful. Remem-
ber, you’re my one and only daughter.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” she said, hugging him
affectionately. “Now, about the Heath affair. Isn’t
it possible that Hector has been investigating the
property himself, hoping to discover the due
Walter Heath mentioned in his will?”
“You mean the one by which Juliana can iden-
tify herself beyond all doubt?”
“Yes, Dad. If a dishonest person stumbled upon
that clue, it might be possible for him to have an
impostor claim the fortune.”
“That wouldn’t be so easy, Nancy. A number
of persons knew Juliana.”
“But,” Nancy countered, “if she has been
through a terrible experience of some kind, she
could have changed so much even her own sister
wouldn’t recognize her.”
“True. I follow your reasoning. Nevertheless,
any woman who put in a claim would have to
satisfy the court that it was a just one.”
Nancy glanced steadily at her father. “Do you
think Mr. Hector has really tried to find Juliana?
If he isn’t honest-”
“Nancy, I don’t like to think the man would be
involved in anything underhanded. I don’t ap-
prove of his methods in handling law cases, but
there is no proof that he has actually done any-
thing dishonest.”
“But you admit,” Nancy said, “that the Heath
case looks suspicious?”
“Yes, I do, Nancy.”