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answers.”
    His words seemed to signal the end of the brief rest period. The firemen finished their sandwiches and coffee and began to gather up their equipment and put it back on the truck.
    The rest of the group, including Nancy, Bess, and George, all set about cleaning up what they could of the debris that had been left behind. By the time the truck drove away, the sun was over the horizon and the new day had begun.
    Once things had been set to right, Nancy wandered slowly toward the house. “What’s wrong?” Bess asked as they started down the hall to their rooms, anxious to clean up.
    “I’m worried about Ngyun,” Nancy admitted. “I promised to try to clear his name and now he thinks I’ve accused him of setting the cottage on fire.”
    “Do you believe there’s a possibility that he did?” George asked.
    Nancy considered, then shook her head. “I don’t think he’s guilty of anything except being alone too much and pretending to be the kind of boy he thinks his father was.”
    “Poor kid,” Bess murmured compassionately. “But why would someone else set fires and let him be blamed? I mean, someone has to be doing all these things.”
    Nancy sighed. “I wish I knew who it was,” she admitted, then brightened. “Maybe we’ll find a clue after the fire cools.”
    “If there’s a clue, you’ll find it,” Bess told her loyally.
    After they parted, Nancy showered to remove the stains of her fire fighting, then dressed in a bright blue-and-yellow print, cotton dress. Ready to start the day, she went out to see if she could help Maria or Heather.
    She found Heather alone in the lobby and asked her where Chuck was, hoping that he’d gone after Ngyun. Her hope was short-lived.
    “Chuck has gone into town to talk to Grandfather. He wants to tell him about the fire and about the journal you found. Then, too, he feels he should tell him about that rattler someone threw at you last night.” She frowned. “Chuck and I are still worried about you getting hurt, Nancy.”
    “And I’m worried about Ngyun,” Nancy said, changing the subject.
    Heather nodded. “So am I,” she admitted, “but I don’t know what to do about him. There are people who can’t help setting fires, you know, Nancy. Do you think Ngyun could be like that?”
    “Oh, I hope not,” Nancy said, not liking the idea at all.
    “Did you find out anything from the journal?” Heather asked, changing the subject.
    “Not about any treasure,” Nancy told her. “But it does make it clear that Jake Harris and the Indians were friends, so I very much doubt that they were the ones who caused his death.”
    “I’m glad of that for Maria’s sake,” Heather said.
    “Do you think she’d like to read the journal?” Nancy asked. “Jake mentions several of the Hopi chiefs and elders by name. One of them might be her great-grandfather.”
    “Oh, she’d love to read it,” Heather assured her. “She’s always been so sure that the Indians were wrongly accused. It will make her happy to see some proof of their innocence. And after what happened this morning, I’m sure she could use some cheering up.”
    Nancy nodded, remembering only too well her part in Ngyun’s hasty exit from their early morning gathering by the pool. “She must be very worried about Ngyun,” she agreed. “I’ll go and get the journal.”
    She hurried back to her room and opened the drawer in the bedside table. Her nails scraped the wooden bottom as she reached inside, then she stared unbelievingly into the empty drawer. The journal was gone!

11
    A Flying Arrow
    Nancy checked with George and Bess just to make sure that neither of them had taken the journal to read, but she wasn’t surprised by their denials. “I had the feeling someone was watching me last night,” she told them. “But who would take Big Jake’s journal?”
    “Someone who thought it might lead them to the treasure?” Bess suggested.
    “Well, the thief will certainly be disappointed