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better luck on the first try,” said Nancy. “But perhaps I can think of another approach.”
    As the girls entered the front hall of the house, Nancy noticed that a letter addressed to her was lying on a mahogany table. It was from Hannah Gruen.
    Nancy read it and frowned. Mrs. Dondo was trying to make trouble again! 1 The woman had been telling people in River Heights that Nancy had left town to avoid paying the hundred dollars that had been lost in the mail. Suddenly Nancy smiled as she read further.
    “But don’t worry, Nancy. Your father is taking care of things. He went over to her house and talked to her sternly. Mrs. Dondo actually began to tremble and said she would not say anything more against you.”
    Nancy told Bess and George what the letter said.
    “Well good for your dad!” said Bess. “That woman needs to be put in her place.”
    George spoke up. “But I’m afraid she won’t keep her promise. Nancy, you’d better watch out!”
    The girls continued to discuss the unpleasant woman and her brother. When they joined Susan and Cliff on the patio just before dusk, Nancy asked them if they had ever heard of Alonzo Rugby.
    Both of them shook their heads, and Cliff looked in the telephone directory. The name was not listed.
    “He’s an artist,” Nancy explained.
    “In that case,” Cliff said, “the head of the university art department might help us. I’ll call him.”
    He went inside to phone. When he returned, Cliff reported that Alonzo Rugby was not known to the department head.
    “That’s strange,” Nancy remarked. “We were told that he’s a talented artist.” She related the story Mrs. Dondo had told about her brother, who was supposed to live in Charlottesville.
    Obligingly Cliff telephoned an art dealer in town; then Susan called a woman artist in the area. Neither of them had ever heard of Alonzo Rugby.
    “Oh, let’s forget him,” Bess suggested, “and enjoy this heavenly evening.”
    Nancy did not reply. She knew she could not forget the man. The young detective had a strong hunch that he had been responsible for the fake telegram to her. His only reason for sending it must have been to keep her out of the area. But why?
    “If he’s ‘good for nothing,’ as his brother-in-law says,” Nancy thought, “he may be involved in some underhanded scheme. But where do I fit in?”
    Just then, melodic chimes sounded from inside the house. Anna always rang to announce dinner. The group rose and went inside.
    The colonial dining room of Seven Oaks was charming. A crystal chandelier highlighted the handsome mahogany furniture, as well as the exquisite silver candelabra and crystal tumblers on the table.
    Clifford said grace, then Anna brought in a heavy silver tureen of soup that she set before Susan. Next, she brought in lovely old china soup plates. She passed them, one by one, after Susan had served the portions.
    When the maid left the room, Susan smiled and whispered to the girls, “I try to make things easier for Anna, but she insists on working and serving everything the old-fashioned way. I must confess, though, that I love it.”
    Cliff’s eyes twinkled. “Anna’s a rare person,” he said. “She sort of lives in the past, and is very much like her mother, who worked for my mother. She imitates her in everything.”
    After the soup course, Anna brought in a tray of squabs and remarked to the visitors, “I hope you all like my birds.”
    The “birds” proved to be delicious, as were the sweet potatoes, corn pudding, and piping-hot biscuits served with them.
    Bess said happily, “Don’t anybody remind me I’m on a diet!”
    Twenty minutes later Anna removed the dishes and carried in individual servings of strawberry shortcake. She had brought in all but Cliff’s and was just returning from the pantry with it, when suddenly she shrieked. The dessert slipped from her hand and fell upside down on the floor.
    “Good heavens!” she cried out, wringing her hands.
    Those at