"Yes, but you changed the style of your signature a bit too often. It became obvious you were trying to confuse me."

"Years ago in college I discovered I had the ability to simulate varying styles of handwriting and I've had a lot of fun doing it occasionally."

"It seems to me like a dangerous pastime," Nancy remarked. "You may find yourself in trouble with the law."

"Oh, I can take care of myself," Barty chuckled. "Well, young lady, run along since you seem to be in such a hurry. After you win your match, I'll buy you a 2 B X Gardenia!"

Laughing heartily at his own joke, he walked on toward the hotel.

"The conceit of that man!" Nancy muttered. "When I called him he made up that phony 2 B X Gardenia code and there's nothing to it!"

Nancy greeted Betsy Howard and walked with her to the fifteenth tee where play was to be resumed. A large crowd of spectators had followed the two players and Nancy's friends had joined the crowd.

"Good luck!" George called.

It was generally conceded that Betsy would win the match and thus the tournament. Being one point ahead with only four holes left to play, she held the advantage. Then, too, because of Nancy's injured hand, few persons believed she could play her best game.

Betsy Howard, having won the last hole, held the honor of driving first and sent a long, straight ball flying down the fairway. Undaunted, Nancy teed up and swung her club with all her strength. Since they were nearing the end of the match, she had no intention of babying her injured hand.

Nancy had struck her ball squarely. To her satisfaction it sailed past the trees and came to rest in the middle of the fairway some yards ahead of Betsy's drive. A murmur of admiration ran through the crowd.

As Nancy was leaving the tee, her caddy followed. On a sudden inspiration she asked, "Chris, have you ever caddied for Mr. Bartescue?"

"Yes, Miss Drew. Why?"

While she was trying to decide how to find out if the man had ever quizzed the caddy about her interest in the haunted bridge, he replied to her unspoken question.

"Mr. Bartescue was always asking me where I thought you went. I never told him about the- the scarecrow." The boy laughed. "All I said was that you seemed interested in Miss Margaret Judson who used to live near here."

At that moment the conversation was interrupted by a boy from the hotel. He handed Nancy a sealed letter. Promptly she tore open the envelope.

A broad smile spread over the girl's face as she read the message: "Good luck, Nancy. The stage is set for Mrs. Brownell's arrival."

Nancy smiled. Her darling father! He did not overlook a thing. She knew he had been in touch with New York detectives asking that they bring the stolen compact with them. Undoubtedly he was now awaiting their arrival at the airport.

"Everything is moving along, so there's nothing for me to worry about except this golf match!" Nancy reflected, studying her next shot.

She addressed the ball. While the crowd watched in admiration, Nancy made a beautiful drive which her opponent could not equal. She won the hole, squaring the match.

Betsy Howard, grimly determined not to lose the tournament, wasted no shots on the sixteenth hole, with the result she matched Nancy's strokes equally. With only two holes to be played, the score still stood even.

As Nancy prepared to make her first shot from the seventeenth tee, Chris sidled up to her. "Miss Drew," he said timidly, taking a ball from his pocket, "I don't know if this is the right time to tell you, but see what I found!"

"The ball Jimmy Harlow autographed for me! Thanks a lot!" Nancy cried in delight. "Where was it?"

"Not far from the haunted bridge. It was hidden under some dry leaves. Why don't you finish the tournament with the autographed ball? It may bring you luck."

Nancy crossed her fingers and smiled. "I'd like to use it." Turning to her opponent she requested permission to change b.a.l.l.s.

"I have no objection," Betsy a.s.sured her.

Nancy felt confident as she teed up the Jimmy Harlow ball. Had it not led her straight to an absorbing mystery? Could it also help her win the silver trophy?

CHAPTER XX.

A Day to Remember

NANCY was so intent on her golf game she hardly noticed the pain in her hand. She became oblivious to the crowd and their comments. She was not aware that her excellent shots were forcing Betsy Howard to "press" and make costly errors.

After Nancy putted at the seventeenth green she vaguely heard Chris say, "You're one up, Miss Drew! Halve this hole and the women's championship is yours!"

Nancy played the eighteenth in true championship style, every shot straight and true. Betsy, in a desperate attempt to win, had tried too hard. She had sent her ball into a sand trap, costing her an extra point. Nancy's ball already rested about ten yards from the cup.

After Betsy chipped her ball onto the green, she was eight feet from the hole. Nancy putted her ball with care and confidence. It rolled so swiftly that a little gasp of horror went up from the crowd. Many thought it would end at the far side of the green. But the ball had been tapped accurately and it dropped into the cup.

Betsy Howard stood perfectly still for a moment. Then she putted her own ball, missed, and tried again. This time it dropped, but already the match was lost. She reached out and grasped Nancy's hand.

"Congratulations, my dear. You played a beautiful game."

The crowd cheered, and friends rushed forward to praise Nancy. She smiled happily and thanked them. Then she was led in triumph to the hotel and received the handsome silver trophy for the women's championship.

"We knew you'd do it!" Bess cried gaily. "Oh, Nancy, you were marvelous!"

"Your score today was sixty-nine," George added proudly. "It sets a new record for women at the Deer Mountain course. And you were the youngest one in the tournament, too!"

Nancy grinned, then whispered, "Will you do me a favor?" George and Bess nodded.

"Please put this trophy in my room. I'd like to get to the cabin before Mrs. Brownell arrives."

"Margaret decided to leave before you," Bess told her. "She thought you wouldn't mind. Your father wanted her to be at the cabin early."

As Nancy hastened alone toward the woods she could not help reflecting that it was a pity Mrs. Brownell chose to live by dishonest means. She caught herself wondering about the child's picture in the jeweled compact. Who was she?

Nancy's thoughts were interrupted as she approached the bridge. Moaning and groaning filled the air, louder than ever, and the scarecrow danced wildly in the wind.

Nancy stopped in the middle of the bridge and gazed up into the tossing treetops, listening carefully. Suddenly she gave a little smile, and with a nod of satisfaction, hurried on.

She made her way quietly along the familiar path to the cabin. Hearing no voices within, she opened the door. Carson Drew sprang to his feet, then laughed in relief as he saw that the caller was his daughter.

"I thought for a moment Mrs. Brownell had caught me napping. Did you win the game?"

"Yes. Did you get the compact?" Nancy asked.

Mr. Drew nodded. "I've given it to Margaret Judson. The detectives who brought it are hidden outside with the federal agents. In fact, there are men stationed all along the roads from her hotel. Should Mrs. Brownell decide not to come here or try to flee from us after being accused of the theft, she'll find every avenue of escape cut off."

"You're convinced of her guilt, Dad?"