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looked exactly like Nancy.
    “I like the expression, because it’s serious and yet Nancy has a little smile,” she said. “To me that is just the way she looks.”
    After she had posed for two hours, Nancy was glad to stretch a bit. She telephoned the dancing school and found that things were running smoothly.
    Soon afterward, George arrived. “Hypers, Nancy!” she exclaimed. “I thought you’d be in bed. Where did you learn to fall down a whole flight of stairs and come up with nothing worse than a few bruises and a twisted ankle?”
    “It takes a lot of practice,” Nancy answered with a laugh.
    “Anyway,” said George, “I just dropped in to see if I could be your chauffeur.”
    “I certainly would like to go out and do some work on the case,” Nancy replied. “Suppose you have lunch here and we’ll start right afterward.”
    At two o’clock Nancy and George were on their way. Their first stop was the Civic Center, where George ran in to tell Mrs. Parsons that Nancy would be unable to rehearse for a few days.
    “Now I’d like to cruise around,” Nancy said, “on the off chance that I might see Mrs. Judson or that man who stopped me the other night.”
    Though George drove around for half an hour, the girls did not spot either of the people they sought. Next Nancy wanted to check hotel lobbies and restaurants.
    “But you can’t do that yourself,” George objected, “and I don’t know the man.”
    Nancy had an idea. “You go in, and if you find anyone who seems to fit the description, I’ll take a look.”
    George investigated hotels first, but saw no one who resembled either Mrs. Judson or the mysterious man. Next they tried a number of restaurants, where George looked over the clientele and asked cashiers and hat-check girls if anyone who ate there resembled the people they sought. All the replies were negative.
    “Let’s try one more,” said Nancy late in the afternoon. George pulled up in front of a small dining place called the Regal Restaurant.
    Both girls went inside. Nancy described the couple they wanted and told the cashier that the two would not necessarily have been together.
    The woman thought for a few seconds, then said, “There was a couple in here last night that sounds like your description. The woman was an American. She was dressed in loud clothing and talked in a whiny voice. The man had a French accent.”
    “Did you overhear their names?” Nancy asked.
    “The woman called the man Rowl—or something like that.”
    “Rowl?” Nancy repeated. “That might be Raoul. What were they talking about?”
    The cashier thought for a moment. Then she said, “I didn’t hear much. Apparently they were finishing a conversation they’d started before they got here. But the woman said, ‘You’d better come across with a nice bit of jewelry for me or I’ll spill the beans!’ ”
    “That sounds like her!” said Nancy. “Do you remember anything else?”
    “Only that the woman handed the man a letter when they were eating dessert.”
    At this point the cashier called to a waitress who had served the couple. The girl remembered them well.
    “When the man read the letter,” she said, “he looked plenty mad. And he gave the woman an awful scolding for losing the stamp.”
    “Have you any idea where they live?” Nancy asked.
    The waitress said that she had heard them mention the big apartment house on Oakwood Avenue. “But I don’t know that they live there.”
    Nancy thanked the cashier and the waitress, and the girls hurried off.
    When they reached the apartment house, Nancy looked at every name on the letter boxes. Not one of them was Judson. She rang the superintendent’s bell. There was no reply, but the front door opened and a woman came out. Nancy asked her whether a couple named Judson lived in the building. The woman said she did not know.
    “Mr. Judson’s a Frenchman,” said Nancy with a smile. “Would that mean anything?”
    “There’s a Frenchman here.