Trapped! Obviously, Nancy realized, the weirdly strung racket must be connected in some way to the strange mystery that seemed to be blighting Kim Vernon’s career

Cobwebs and spiders!

Obviously, Nancy realized, the weirdly strung racket must be connected in some way to the strange mystery that seemed to be blighting Kim Vernon’s career. But how? And what did it mean?

The black-haired golf star seemed like an innocent victim who had become entangled in a spiderweb of trouble and danger!

Whatever the answer, this cobweb racket might be the clue Nancy had been hoping for, the clue that would help her unravel the mystery!

Should she press Kim for information while she was emotionally upset and her guard was down?

A hasty glance at the hysterically sobbing young woman was all Nancy needed to decide against this course of action. The thought of taking advantage of Kim’s distraught condition to worm information out of her was too distasteful.

Dropping the tennis racket, Nancy snatched up her shoulder bag and darted toward the door. “I’m going after that delivery man! ” she cried.

As the teenage sleuth burst out of the cottage, she saw him just driving away.

He’s a phony! Thought Nancy. Not only was he wearing no uniform cap or jacket, but instead of a delivery van, he was driving an unmarked brown sedan!

Sliding swiftly behind the wheel of her blue sports car, Nancy keyed the engine to life and took off with a vroom of exhaust. As she sped in pursuit, she saw the brown car turning off the riverfront road, some distance ahead.

Nancy followed. In broad daylight, there was little or nothing she could do to conceal the fact that she was tailing the brown car. Luckily its driver seemed unaware that he was being followed---which at least kept the pursuit from turning into a high-speed chase!

The mystery man soon left behind the pleasant, tree-shaded suburban area of riverside bungalows and cottages. His car was heading toward the heart of town.

As she kept it in sight, Nancy was turning the racket riddle over and over in her mind.

Russ Chaffee had told her how upset Kim had become on two earlier occasions---once on receiving a drawing of a red spider, and another time when someone sent her an actual living specimen. The delivery of the cobwebbed tennis racket looked like the latest move in a deliberate campaign of terror!

Was it some similar incident that had led to Kim’s withdrawal from the Charleston Cup match?

But if so, who was going to such lengths to frighten her? - and why?

Did spiders and cobwebs remind her of some terrifying experience in the past? Somehow, to Nancy’s finely tuned sleuthing instincts, the whole situation smacked strongly of blackmail.

In any event, the man in the brown car must be in on the plot. And Nancy was determined to find out what lay behind it!

As the reached a busy, workaday section of River Heights, traffic increased. Nancy was able to drop behind one or more other cars, yet still keep the brown sedan in view.

They were now entering a run-down area of small factories and aging commercial buildings, many of them empty and vandalized. The brown car was a block ahead when Nancy saw it swing suddenly into a driveway on the right.

Crossing the intersection, she pulled over to the curb, jumped out, and quietly followed on foot.

The driveway, Nancy now saw, led to an old warehouse – deserted, judging by the look of it. The brown sedan was parked in the cindered yard in front of the building, but its driver was no longer in sight. Evidently he had gone into the warehouse.

Nancy approached it cautiously. The wooden door opened to her touch. Entering, she stopped to look around and get her bearings. The vast, dusty room was unpleasantly dark and gloomy. The only light came in through two dirty windows, high up on the front wall, on either side of the doorway.

“Now where has he gone to? ” Nancy said to herself. There was no sound.

The young sleuth took a small flashlight out of her bag and switched it on. In one corner she could see some pipes and wooden poles and cardboard boxes. Otherwise the room seemed empty. The whole place smelled musty and unaired.

Aiming her flashlight downward, she played its beam back and forth over the floor. Nancy stifled a gasp as the yellow cone of light revealed footprints in the dust!

What luck! She thought and begin following them. They tracked toward a door on the right, which Nancy had failed to see when she shone her beam about the room.

The door stood slightly ajar. Slowly and gently Nancy pushed it open. Beyond lay a dark passage. Nancy tiptoed through the doorway to see where the passage led – and a moment later wished she hadn’t!

Someone grabbed her from behind and hit her on the back of the head!

With a faint groan, Nancy sank to the floor unconscious.

How many minutes or hours she may have lain there, the teenage detective had no way of knowing when at last she began to revive. Gradually her eyes fluttered open. Another soft moan escaped her lips as she discovered the full extent of her plight.

Her wrists were tied behind her back – her ankles bound together – and a gag tied tightly across her mouth!

Oh, what a mess! thought Nancy. And I walked right into it with my eyes wide open!

Obviously the man in the brown sedan must have known all along he was being followed. And once having spotted her in his rearview mirror, he cunningly lured her into a trap!

To make matters worse, her head ached slightly. But there was no point in dwelling on her troubles, Nancy realized. The important thing now was to find a way out of her predicament!

Suddenly she became aware of a glow of light along the floor. Nancy had only to roll her eyes to see where it was coming from.

Her flashlight lay where it had fallen! And it was still burning! So evidently she hadn’t been unconscious as long as she feared.

By turning her head, Nancy could see her bag a short distance away from where she was lying. By rolling and twisting, she got close enough to reach it and pry open he clasp behind her back.

Slowly she fumbled through the bag’s contents until she found her nail file. Then Nancy began the tedious process of trying to file and saw through the cords around her wrists.

It was slow, clumsy work. And painful as well. But finally, stiff and perspiring, she had her hands free. Oh, how good it felt to stretch!

Nancy sighed, took off her gag, and rested for a few minutes. Then she started untying the rope binding her ankles. At last, free of all her bonds, she retrieved her flashlight and shoulder bag and stood up – almost faint with eagerness to get out in the open air and sunshine again.

“No need to be quiet now! ” Nancy told herself. Returning from the passageway to the main room, she hurried across the dusty floor toward the door by which she had entered the warehouse. But this time, as she turned the handle, it refused to open.

She was locked in!

“Oh, no, ” Nancy muttered in dismay. She went back to the passageway and followed it to the rear of the building. It led to a garage area and a large shuttered door which evidently opened on to a loading dock at the back. But here, too, everything was securely locked.

Heart thumping anxiously, Nancy retraced her steps to the main room. Only a squeaky noise at her feet warned her in time to avoid treading on a rat that darted across her path. Her skin crawled at the thought!

The only possible way out seemed to be the pair of dirty windows. But they were much too high up to reach.

Nancy screamed for help and pounded on the street door. But there was no response. The warehouse was in such a deserted area it would be a miracle if any passerby heard her!

Nancy’s heart sank as she realized that it might be a long time until she was found. Before help arrived, she could starve to death – or even, she reflected, with a terrified shudder, fall victim to the building’s hungry rats!