Nancy Drew urged Jacob Aborn to make haste, for she little realized to what desperate physical straits his long imprisonment had brought him. At the exultation of being free of his bonds, he had leaped to his feet in the dark cellar, eager to rush to the bungalow on the lake before Stumpy Dowd should have a chance to escape. But as he moved forward several steps, he felt his knees sink uncertainly.

Nancy, unaware of the physical anguish Jacob Aborn was enduring, groped about in the darkness for the bottom step of the stairway leading from the cellar. Presently her foot touched it, and she called out to her companion. He dragged himself to her side, scarcely able to walk.

“Are you ill, Mr. Aborn?” Nancy demanded anxiously. She could not see his face.

“Oh, no!” the man protested quickly. “I’m only a bit weak from being tied up like a dog in a kennel. My legs will be all right after I’ve used them a few minutes.”

But try as he would, the man was unable to climb the stairway unassisted. Nancy, realizing his predicament, reached out a strong arm to help him.

Even then Jacob Aborn was forced to stop frequently for a brief rest, leaning upon Nancy for support while he recuperated his strength. But at last the top of the stairway was reached, and he then insisted that he was able to walk without her help.

Nancy led the way to the living room window, and after climbing out to the porch, assisted Jacob Aborn to crawl through the opening.

“What a relief!” he gasped, filling his lungs with pure air. “This is the first decent breath I’ve had in nearly two weeks!”

In the east, the moon was just rising over the forest, and stars were commencing to peep through the clouds which were now breaking up and drifting swiftly along the sky like scudding ships at sea. The cellar had accustomed Nancy’s eyes to a blacker darkness than that which now faced her, and it was possible to make out objects well enough to pick the route through the forest. Yet, glancing uneasily at Jacob Aborn, she wondered if he would be able to walk the short distance to the roadster.

“Do you think you can make it?” she questioned. “It isn’t far to my car.”

“I think so,” Laura’s guardian declared grimly.

Nancy offered her arm again, and at a slow pace they walked across the clearing. Entering the forest, they had gone but a short way when Mr. Aborn sank down on a log along the trail, breathing heavily.

“I’ve got to rest,” he murmured, his voice shaky from fatigue. “You go on without me, Nancy!”

“Just rest here for a moment, Mr. Aborn,” Nancy said encouragingly. “I’m sure you will be all right in a few moments.”

She was unwilling to desert Jacob Aborn, for if she went on ahead, she was afraid he would never reach the bungalow on the lake. At the same time, she was impatient at the delay. Already, Stumpy Dowd had a good half-hour’s start. Unless they hurried, he would escape with Laura’s fortune. Once he had left the bungalow it would be difficult to pick up his trail again.

“It’s only a little way farther to the car,” Nancy urged gently after Mr. Aborn had rested for a few minutes.

With an effort, he arose from the log and wavered unsteadily on his feet.

“I can make it now,” he insisted. “We can’t let that scoundrel escape!”

Leaning heavily on Nancy, he moved forward again, more rapidly than before. His breathing came hard, but he offered no complaint and refused to pause again even for a brief rest. His nerve carried him along. For Laura’s sake he exerted himself to the utmost.

It was a walk that Nancy never forgot. Time and again Jacob Aborn stumbled and would have fallen headlong had it not been for the sturdy support the girl gave him.

“You’d better leave me and go ahead alone,” he said several times. “I’m willing to try my best, but I know I can’t make it.”

“Oh, yes you can, Mr. Aborn,” Nancy urged. “It’s only a short distance now to the place where I left my roadster. As soon as we reach that you’ll be safe.”

“You’re a very kind girl to do all this for me,” murmured the exhausted man.

“We’ve got to do it. Think of Laura,” and thus Nancy urged him forward.

Through the bushes and around a number of the rocks they stumbled. Once both went headlong, and Nancy had almost all the wind knocked out of her. But she picked herself up and managed to drag the man once more to his feet.

“How much farther?” he whispered hoarsely.

“Only a short distance,” she answered as lightly as she could. “Keep up your courage and we’re bound to get there.”

Presently, with a feeling of relief, Nancy caught sight of her automobile standing in the bushes where she had left it. Although she had not mentioned her fears to Jacob Aborn, she had been afraid that Stumpy Dowd might have taken the car.

Hastily helping Laura’s guardian into the roadster, she sprang in after him and took her place behind the steering wheel. With nervous haste, she started the motor and backed around in the road. The car shot forward in a burst of speed.

Neither driver nor passenger exchanged a word as they raced madly toward the bungalow. Nancy had her hands full managing the steering wheel, for she was taking the rough road at dangerous speed.

Driving as near the bungalow as possible, she helped Mr. Aborn to alight.

Abandoning the automobile, they started afoot through the forest. As before, Nancy offered Mr. Aborn her arm, helping him along. She was relieved that he walked with less difficulty.

A few minutes, and they came to the clearing. Directly ahead, they caught a glimpse of the house. To their disappointment the windows were dark.

“I’m afraid the bird has flown,” Nancy observed quietly.

“It looks that way,” Jacob Aborn admitted gloomily.

“Still, he may be there yet. The windows were dark earlier in the evening, and he was here then.”

“At least, it will be wise to approach cautiously.”

“Yes, we’re unarmed and would be no match for him if he heard us coming. We don’t want to place ourselves in his power a second time.”

“Oh, if I can get my hands on that scoundrel!” Jacob Aborn gritted.

The thought gave him new strength, and he moved eagerly forward again. Cautiously, the two crept toward the house, approaching from the rear.

“You haven’t a key, I suppose?” Nancy whispered.

“No. That villain took it away from me along with everything else.”

“Never mind, I know a way to get in.”

However, as Nancy drew near the bungalow, she saw that there was no need of a latchkey. The back door stood ajar, as though someone had fled without taking time to shut it.

With Mr. Aborn close behind her, Nancy Drew stepped cautiously into the kitchen. There was profound silence. The bungalow appeared deserted.

Crossing the room on tiptoe, she groped about on the kitchen table and found an oil lamp. Lighting it, she picked it up and hurried toward the living room.

Pausing in the doorway, she cast a critical glance about and saw that everything was in disorder. A chair had been overturned, a small rug was out of place, papers were scattered all about. The two suitcases which Stumpy Dowd had packed earlier in the evening were missing.

“He’s escaped!” Nancy exclaimed in bitter disappointment as she surveyed the confusion.

Just then her eye fell upon the safe and she saw that the door was wide open. With a little cry of alarm she rushed across the room and looked inside. With the exception of a few papers, everything had been taken.

Snatching up the papers, Nancy hastily examined them. As she had feared, they were worthless.

“Laura’s fortune!” she cried angrily. “That rascal has escaped with every penny of it!”

“Oh, my poor Laura!” Jacob Aborn groaned.

He moved heavily over to the safe and gave it one hopeless glance.

“He’s taken everything of mine, too! I don’t mind for myself⁠—it’s only that Laura must suffer for my negligence.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Mr. Aborn. We’ll capture that man somehow! We must notify the police! I’ll telephone the station this minute!”

“You can’t. There isn’t a phone in the house.”

“You have no phone?” Nancy echoed. “Oh, what an aggravation!”

“Oh, why didn’t I have one installed?” Jacob Aborn demanded of himself. “I always intended to.”

“Where is the nearest one?”

“At the hotel.”

“Then we must go there at once.”

“I’m afraid it will be too late. That scoundrel has too great a start.”

“We must try to capture him, anyway! With luck we can do it!”

“Yes, we must try!” Jacob Aborn exclaimed.

He started toward the door, but was forced to grasp the back of a chair for support. Nancy ran to him and eased him into the chair.

“You’re too ill to go!” she cried.

One quick glance had assured her that he was on the verge of collapse. Only the hope that he might save Laura Pendleton’s fortune had given him the strength to reach the bungalow. Now he was too nearly exhausted to go farther.

Mr. Aborn dropped his head on his hands.

“I guess I’m done up,” he admitted.

“Of course you must stay here,” Nancy insisted. “I’ll send a doctor to you.”

“Don’t think about me. Just set the police on the trail of Stumpy Dowd!”

“I’ll do both. And as soon as I telephone to the police, I intend to start after Stumpy myself.”

“But the danger! You must think of your own safety!”

“I’ll be careful,” Nancy promised as she turned away. “Just stay here and rest until the doctor comes. I must hurry now. Every minute counts.”