Chapter 1 The Clue in the Diary by Carolyn Keene
A Suspicious Stranger
“A penny for your thoughts, Nancy Drew,” said George Fayne. “You’ve been staring into space for nearly two minutes!”
“And missing all this good food!” added blond Bess Marvin. The slightly plump, pretty girl reached for a third sandwich.
“George,” said Nancy to Bess’s slim, short-haired cousin, who enjoyed her boy’s name, “I’m worried about that darling Swenson child and her mother. I wish we could do something to help them.”
“You mean,” said Bess, “find Mr. Swenson, or the money his wife told us he had promised to send?”
“Yes,” Nancy answered. “It’s very mysterious, since apparently he has been away for some time. I wonder if his letters—containing money orders—were stolen.”
“That’s a federal offense,” George said grimly.
The three girls, seated beneath a spreading roadside maple tree, were enjoying a picnic supper. The peaceful spot was halfway between their home town of River Heights and Sandy Creek, where they had attended a popular annual carnival.
Bess chuckled. “If there’s a thief around, Nancy will capture him!” She reached for a deviled egg. “Count me in to help with the sleuthing—if it’s not too dangerous.”
“I wouldn’t count on its not being dangerous,” said George. “You know Nancy.”
The young sleuth smiled at this remark, but in a moment became serious again. All of Nancy’s friends agreed that she possessed an intangible appealing quality which people never forgot.
Nancy was pretty in a distinctive way. Her eyes were blue, her hair titian blond. She expressed her opinions firmly, but did not force them on others. Nancy’s abilities of leadership were welcome and depended upon in any group.
With Bess and George, Nancy had made the drive to Sandy Creek in her convertible. From the breath-taking “Whip” to the airplane swings, they had left nothing untried, and true to her reputation, Nancy had unearthed an adventure.
Her attention had been drawn to a little girl and her mother among the carnival crowd. They had been looking on wistfully, but had taken no part in the fun. Nancy and her friends had sensed that the mother could not afford admission tickets. On impulse, the girls had invited them to go along on several rides.
The three had fallen in love with five-year-old Honey. She was a bright and appealing child in spite of the fact that she looked undernourished. Her dress, though neat, was faded.
“Honey was so adorable,” Nancy remarked, half to herself.
“Yes, she certainly was,” Bess agreed.
“We must see the Swensons again,” Nancy said thoughtfully. “I can’t bear to think of that little girl’s going without the things she needs. We’ll visit the Joe Swenson family someday soon at their home. You wrote down the address, didn’t you, Bess?”
“Yes.”
“It won’t be easy to do things for Mrs. Swenson,” George predicted. “That woman is proud. You can see that.”
“I know,” Nancy admitted. “She didn’t like our paying for everything at the carnival, but for Honey’s sake she allowed it.”
Bess, gazing toward the west, observed that the sun was sinking below the horizon. “We’d better be on our way,” she declared.
The girls arose and put the food wrappings into the car. They had pulled into a side road. Now Nancy carefully steered the convertible over the rough road to the main highway, then headed for River Heights.
After the first few miles, Bess slumped down and wearily leaned her head back against the seat, while gazing out the window. “Nice homes along this road,” she observed presently.
“Mostly country estates,” George added.
“Look at that large white house on the hill.” Nancy pointed toward one with spacious grounds and a woods behind it. “Isn’t it a dream? The lawns are so well kept. Just my idea of a country place.”
“Wonder who owns it?” George asked.
Nancy had no chance to reply. Suddenly there was a tremendous explosion, and in an instant the lovely white house on the hillside burst into flames! Tongues of fire leaped from the windows and doors.
“There may be people trapped inside!” Nancy cried out. “We must help them!”
She drove frantically toward the burning house, pressing the automobile horn incessantly, hoping to attract the attention of neighboring residents. As the girls passed other vehicles, Bess and George shouted and pointed toward the house on the hill.
“We’ll need all the help we can get,” Nancy said grimly, “if anyone is to be rescued.”
The convertible swung into the driveway and headed up the hill toward the burning building. At a glance it was apparent to the girls that the house could not be saved. Nancy stopped the car and the three jumped out.
“If there are people trapped inside,” George exclaimed as they dashed toward the house, “how can we ever save them?”
The girls scanned the windows anxiously but could see no one. Already the smoke was thick and the heat warned them that they could not enter—at least, not from the front.
“I’ll try the back,” Nancy told the cousins. “The smoke may not be so dense there. You’d better take the car to the nearest house and phone the fire department.”
As Bess and George hurried off, Nancy quickly rounded the house, only to be met by a heavy cloud of smoke being carried by the wind. It made her cough and choke, and for a moment her eyes burned so that she could barely see.
Nancy started forward again, then halted abruptly as she caught sight of a man about to crawl through the back hedge. He seemed to be running away from the burning building. Did this mean he might have set the house on fire?
“Stop!” Nancy cried.
The man turned his head and in the glare of the fire she caught a momentary but clear glimpse of his face. He was very blond, ruddy complexioned, and square jawed. Instantly he whirled, crawled through the thick hedge, and vanished.
“His actions were those of a guilty person,” Nancy thought. Who was he? she wondered. Nancy saw him again when he stood up behind the hedge. The man was tall and gaunt, and poorly dressed.
“He doesn’t look like a criminal,” she thought. “But his identification might prove vitally important to the authorities.”
Nancy had an instinctive talent for detective work. She was the only child of Carson Drew, a widely known lawyer. Mrs. Drew had passed away when Nancy was a very young child, and daughter and father had become close companions. They often helped each other on cases.
The first mystery Nancy had solved was The Secret of the Old Clock, involving her in a dangerous search for a missing will. Since then, she had successfully tackled other unusual cases. Nancy’s most recent adventure, centering around a strange white-robed clan, cleared up The Mystery at Red Gate Farm.
As Nancy stood staring after the stranger who had disappeared into the woods, she heard fire engines clang up to the house. She dashed to the front and met George and Bess, breathless from running. Neighbors were arriving from all directions, some on foot, others in automobiles. The sight of the burning building had attracted passing motorists, and the driveway was quickly jammed with cars.
The firemen realized at once that nothing could be saved. By playing heavy streams of water on the house, the firemen barely succeeded in keeping the blaze from spreading to the outbuildings.
“What a shame such a beautiful home had to burn!” Bess remarked as the girls watched the firemen work. “I—I hope the owners aren’t in there.”
A woman who was standing nearby turned to answer. “The Raybolts’ house has been closed all summer, so I guess no one is inside.”
“I hope not,” Nancy murmured.
“So Mr. Raybolt doesn’t know of his loss,” Bess commented. “What a blow it will be!”
“Oh, I guess Mrs. Raybolt can stand it,” the woman returned indifferently. “Her husband has plenty of money.”
“You know them then?” Nancy questioned.
The woman shook her head. “Only by reputation. I live near here, but the Raybolts were never neighborly.”
“Have they a large family?” Nancy asked.
“No, there are only the two of them, and they’re a pair! Mrs. Raybolt thinks she’s a bit too good for anyone around here.” Nancy and her friends gathered that the owners of the ruined house were far from well liked.
In spite of the desperate efforts of the firemen, it was impossible to keep the blaze under control. Nancy noted with alarm that the wind was steadily rising and veering to the north. At any moment the outbuildings might ignite.
“Oh!” Bess cried. “Look! The roof of the house is falling in!”
A wave of heat drove the girls back a few steps and unexpectedly a thick cloud of smoke blew toward them. Nancy choked and gasped. When the smoke did not clear away she ran to escape it.
Bess and George had scattered in opposite directions, and when Nancy looked about for them, they were not in sight. Before she could call their names, the wind brought another cloud of dense smoke swirling down upon her.
Blindly Nancy stumbled toward the driveway where it curved around the rear of the house. She ran straight into a small wooden structure, and the impact nearly knocked her over. As the smoke drifted away, she could not help laughing. “Only a doghouse!” she thought. “Lucky there was no mean dog in it to attack me!”
As Nancy started back to the driveway she caught sight of a small leather-covered book lying a few feet from the doghouse. Eagerly Nancy snatched it up.
She decided that the book must have been dropped that day. Otherwise, the cover would have been ruined by a heavy rain the previous night. Nancy was struck with a sudden idea. When running across the back lawn of the burning house, the mysterious tall stranger must have passed this very spot. Could he have dropped the book?
“Perhaps I’ve stumbled on a clue!” Nancy thought excitedly.