Penny stood staring at the car. She knew she could not be mistaken. It was the same automobile which Walter Crocker had upset in the ditch. She had last seen it there when she and her father had gone after Mrs. Masterbrook.
"I suppose Walter Crocker might have instructed his uncle to bring the car here," Penny mused. "But it seems very odd. Old Herman didn't want me to tell anyone about seeing his nephew here. I wonder——"
The girl's thoughts were rudely interrupted by the sound of a car coming up the lane. Glancing out the barn doors Penny saw Herman Crocker arrive in his battered old automobile. He parked beside her own car.
"Of course he'll know I am here," Penny told herself. "I must act as if I've noticed nothing out of the way."
She slipped out of the barn without being observed. As she approached the house, Old Herman climbed from the car, holding fast to Rudy's chain. The hound began to growl and tried to get away from his master.
"Good evening, Mr. Crocker," said Penny pleasantly. "I don't seem to be very popular with your dog."
"I thought that was your car standing here in the lane," replied Mr. Crocker gruffly. "Did I see you coming from the barn?"
"I had started that way," said Penny. "Then I heard your car coming."
Mr. Crocker seemed to relax.
"What's wrong down at the cottage now?" he asked in the tone of one who had deeply suffered.
"Nothing at all, Mr. Crocker. I came to ask if I might buy some fresh eggs."
"I don't make a practice of selling them," the man frowned.
"Then I suppose I'll have to drive in to town."
"Maybe I can let you have a dozen this time."
Mr. Crocker started toward the house but as Penny followed he turned and said pointedly:
"I'll bring them out to the car."
Penny had hoped that she would have an opportunity to speak with Perry. She wished to warn the boy to say nothing about her plan to help him escape from the house. She could only hope that he would be wise enough to remain silent concerning her presence near the barn.
Mr. Crocker did not unlock the front door. Instead he went around to the back porch and from a box which was stored there, counted out a dozen eggs into a paper sack. He returned to the car.
"How much do I owe you, Mr. Crocker?" asked Penny.
The man named a price fifteen cents above the town market. She paid it without a protest.
"How is your grandson, Perry?" Penny asked casually as she prepared to drive away.
Mr. Crocker glanced at her sharply but the girl's face disclosed only polite interest.
"Oh, the boy's fine," he answered gruffly. "He's somewhere around the place."
Penny said goodbye and drove away without disclosing that she knew Perry had been locked in the house during his grandfather's absence. Such treatment seemed nothing short of cruel to her. She could not understand why the townspeople would show such indifference to the lad's fate unless they were unaware of existing conditions.
Upon reaching the cottage, Penny drew her father aside and reported everything she had learned.
"You're sure that the boy told the truth about having no food?" the detective inquired.
"I can't be absolutely certain," Penny admitted. "I've never been inside the house."
"Always there are two sides to every question," Mr. Nichols said slowly. "Folks around here with the exception of Mrs. Masterbrook, seem to think that Crocker isn't a bad sort."
"I'm positive he's not the right person to have entire control of a child, Dad."
"That may be. However, he gave the boy a home when no one else came forward to take him in."
"How do you account for Walter Crocker's car being in Herman's barn?"
"I don't see anything so mysterious about that, Penny. They are relatives. Walter probably asked Herman to have the car hauled there until he came back from the city."
"How do we know he ever went to the city, Dad?"
"What?" asked Mr. Nichols blankly.
Penny repeated her question.
"You're not hinting that something may have happened to Walter Crocker?"
"Yes, I am, Dad. Herman Crocker is a sinister character."
"In your imagination."
"In any one's imagination," Penny said firmly. "We know that Walter Crocker came here to collect money from Herman. That old man is a miser. What would be more natural than to have the nephew conveniently disappear?"
"Penny, you've been reading entirely too many wild stories."
"Dad, you are laughing at me!"
"Pardon me, but I can't help it," smiled the detective. "Herman Crocker is an eccentric character but I don't think he's quite as black as you paint him."
Before Penny could reply, Mrs. Masterbrook came to the porch.
"You're wanted on the 'phone," she told Mr. Nichols.
"Now what?" asked the detective, frowning. "I hope it's not Inspector Harris again."
He went into the house and was gone several minutes. Penny could hear him arguing with someone on the wire. Finally he returned to the porch.
"Well, I've done it now," he told her gloomily.
"What is wrong, Dad?"
"Oh, it was Inspector Harris again. There's been another robbery."
"Near here?" Penny asked quickly.
"Yes, about twenty miles away at a place called Benton. Unknown persons broke into the home of a wealthy family and made off with money and jewels valued at several thousand dollars."
"Why, that sounds almost like the other robbery case, Dad."
"Inspector Harris thinks that the same gang may have pulled both of them. He's after me to take the case."
"And you told him you would?"
"I finally agreed that I'd drive over to Benton and make an inspection. But unless the case is a particularly interesting one I'll have nothing of it. This was supposed to have been my vacation."
"Are you going to Benton now?" questioned Penny eagerly.
"Yes, I'll be back in a few hours."
"Take me with you, Dad," Penny pleaded.
"All right," the detective agreed, "but I don't care to be influenced by any of your wild theories as to who committed the robbery."
"I'll be as quiet as a mouse," Penny promised.
During the ride to Benton Mr. Nichols told her what little he had learned about the case.
"It was the James Kirmenbach home which was robbed," he revealed. "You may have heard of the man. He formerly was the head of the Kirmenbach Chemical Company but retired a few years ago to live quietly in the country. The thieves broke into a wall safe, taking a box of money and jewels. The most valuable item was a diamond necklace."
"I suppose the local police made a routine investigation?"
"Yes, but they found no clues. Kirmenbach appealed to Inspector Harris and that's how I'm rung in on the deal."
It was a few minutes after nine o'clock when Mr. Nichols drew up in front of an imposing brick house at the outskirts of Benton.
Penny and her father presented themselves at the door and upon giving their names to the maid were promptly admitted. Mr. Kirmenbach, a bald headed man in his early sixties, came to greet the detective.
"Mr. Nichols?" he asked, extending his hand. "Inspector Harris telephoned that you would take the case."
"I only promised to make an inspection," the detective replied. "Tell me exactly what happened please."
"I'll call my wife," said Mr. Kirmenbach. "She'll be able to give you a better account than I."
While Penny and her father were waiting they glanced quickly about the living room. It was lavishly furnished and in excellent taste.
Mrs. Kirmenbach, a gray haired lady, only a few years younger than her husband, smiled graciously as she bowed to Penny and the detective.
"I do hope that you'll be able to recover my necklace for me," she said to Mr. Nichols. "The other things do not matter, but the diamonds were left me by my father years ago. I prized them for sentimental reasons as well as their actual value."
"When did you discover your loss?" questioned the detective.
"Early this morning Ellen, our maid, noticed that the window of the study had been pried open. She called me at once. The wall safe had been forced and my box of jewels was missing. My husband sent for the police at once."
"And they learned nothing," Mr. Kirmenbach said in a tone of disgust. "There were no finger-marks, no evidence of any kind."
"How many servants do you employ?" asked the detective.
"Only three," answered Mrs. Kirmenbach. "Ellen is the maid, and we have a colored woman who does the cooking. Jerry, a young college boy, serves as our chauffeur. I can vouch for them all."
"I'll talk with them later," Mr. Nichols said. "I'd like to look at the study now, please."
"This way," invited Mr. Kirmenbach. "I had the room locked up again after the police were here this morning. Nothing has been disturbed."
"Good," said Mr. Nichols. "I'll just look around for a few minutes."
"We'll leave you alone," Mrs. Kirmenbach declared politely. "If you want us for anything, we'll be in the living room."
"It will not take me long," replied the detective.
Penny glanced about the study with keen interest. It was a small paneled room, lined high with book shelves. There was a comfortable davenport, several chairs and a table.
Mr. Nichols first turned his attention to the wall safe. Next he carefully examined the window sill.
"Find anything, Dad?" asked Penny.
"Not yet," he answered.
As her father continued his inspection, Penny became a trifle bored. She sat down on the davenport and began idly to play with a toy lantern which had been dropped there. It was a child's toy such as one often saw in candy stores filled with sweets. The red isinglass had been broken in one place and the original string wick had been replaced by a tiny bit of cloth.
"Dad," said Penny presently, "do the Kirmenbachs have any children?"
"They didn't mention any," Mr. Nichols replied absently.
"They probably have grandchildren," Penny went on.
"Does it make any difference?" asked the detective. He was feeling irritated at his failure to find clues.
"Not particularly, Dad. I was just wondering about this toy lantern."
Mr. Nichols turned around and looked quickly at the object in her hand.
"Where did you get that?" he asked sharply.
"Why, it was right here on the davenport, Dad."
Mr. Nichols took the toy from her hand. Penny was surprised by the intent expression of his face as he examined the lantern.
"Come along, Penny," he said quietly, dropping it into his coat pocket. "We'll talk with Mr. and Mrs. Kirmenbach again. It's just possible that we've found a vital clue!"
"You really believe this toy lantern has a connection with the jewel theft?" Penny asked in amazement. "And you say my theories are wild!"
"Wait until we have talked with the Kirmenbachs," replied Mr. Nichols tersely. "I may be on the wrong track but I think not."
Penny and her father found Mr. and Mrs. Kirmenbach awaiting them in the living room. The elderly couple had never seen the toy lantern before and scarcely could believe that the detective had picked it up in the study.
"It may have been dropped there by some child," Mr. Nichols remarked.
"But no child has been in the house in weeks," Mrs. Kirmenbach said quickly. "I can't understand it at all."
"May I speak with your servants now?" requested the detective when the toy lantern had been fully discussed.
"Certainly," replied Mrs. Kirmenbach. "I will call them in."
In turn Mr. Nichols questioned the chauffeur, the cook, and the maid. When he displayed the toy lantern, Ellen's face lighted.
"Why, I saw that toy this morning when I first went into the study," she said. "It was lying on the floor. I picked it up so that no one would stumble over it and fall."
"You dropped it on the davenport?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'd like to have you show me exactly where you found the lantern."
"Certainly, sir."
The maid led Mr. Nichols back to the study and indicated a place not far from the wall safe.
"Mr. Nichols, you don't think that the toy was left by the jewel thieves?" Mr. Kirmenbach asked in amazement.
"Do you know of any other way the lantern happened to be in this room?"
"No."
"Then we will go upon the assumption that the toy lantern is a clue left by the thief—a very interesting clue."
"It seems unbelievable!" exclaimed Mr. Kirmenbach. "What would a jewel thief—a grown man be doing with a toy lantern?"
"It does appear a bit unusual," Mr. Nichols admitted, "but I feel certain there is a logical explanation."
"I have great faith in your ability, Mr. Nichols," said Mr. Kirmenbach. "However, I must say that I am unable to see where this clue will lead."
"At the moment I have no idea myself," replied the detective, smiling. "But I think that this may develop into something."
He declined to amplify his statement further, and a few minutes later left the house with Penny. They drove slowly back toward Knob Hill.
"Dad, I'm inclined to agree with Mr. Kirmenbach," Penny remarked. "I don't see what good that toy lantern will do you."
"First I'll have it examined for finger prints," the detective explained. "However, so many persons have handled it that I don't look for anything on that score. Next I'll get in touch with Inspector Harris and have him check on the manufacturers of toy lanterns. I'll try to find out who bought it."
"But there must be hundreds of toys just like this," Penny protested. "It doesn't have a single distinguishing feature."
"You're wrong there, Penny. Did you notice the wick?"
"Why, it was just an old piece of cloth."
"Exactly. When the old wick tore away, some ingenious child fashioned another from a piece of clothing."
"And you hope that it will be possible to trace the cloth?" Penny asked in amazement.
"That is what I shall try to do."
"You surely don't think that a child committed the robbery, Dad?"
"Hardly, Penny. But the thief may have a child of his own or a small brother. There is a slight chance that the lantern was left deliberately, but I rather doubt such a possibility."
Turning in at their own cottage, Penny and her father noticed a strange car standing by the picket fence.
"It looks as if we have a visitor," the detective observed.
Penny saw a man in a light overcoat standing by the porch talking with the housekeeper. As she and her father came up the walk, he turned to stare at them.
"This is Mr. Erwin Madden from Chicago," the housekeeper said. "He wishes to see you, Mr. Nichols."
"I hope I haven't kept you waiting," remarked the detective pleasantly.
"No, I arrived only a few minutes ago. May I talk with you?"
"Certainly," replied Mr. Nichols. He turned toward the housekeeper who was loitering in the doorway. "That will be all, Mrs. Masterbrook."
After the woman had gone, Mr. Nichols offered the visitor a chair on the porch. Penny started to go into the house but Mr. Madden indicated that it was unnecessary for her to leave.
"My business isn't of a confidential nature," he said pleasantly. "In fact, I am trying to broadcast my mission here in Kendon."
"If I had known that I should have invited our housekeeper to remain," smiled Mr. Nichols. "The town has few secrets unshared by her."
"I came here in search of my business partner, a man by the name of Jay Kline," the visitor went on. "He left Chicago some days ago, coming to Kendon to attend to a private business matter which did not concern the firm. He has not been heard from since."
"Indeed?" inquired Mr. Nichols politely. "You think that he has met with a mishap?"
"Yes, that is my belief," returned Mr. Madden gravely. "Mr. Kline gave me to understand that his mission here was a dangerous one. If something had not gone wrong I know I should have heard of him before this."
"Whom did your friend plan to visit here?"
"I don't know," the visitor admitted. "Mr. Kline was very secretive."
"Have you inquired for him in the village?"
"Yes, no one has heard of the man. It is all very bewildering."
"Are you actually sure that he came to Kendon?" inquired Mr. Nichols.
"I have no proof, but neither have I any reason for thinking that he would go elsewhere. I am convinced that my partner met with foul play."
"You wished to consult me professionally?" Mr. Nichols asked. He wondered who had sent the man to him.
"Professionally?" Mr. Madden questioned in a puzzled tone.
"I am a detective, you know," Mr. Nichols smiled. "On vacation at the present."
"Oh," murmured the visitor in surprise. "No, I wasn't aware of your calling. The grocery store man sent me to you. He told me that you had picked up a stranger in your car several nights ago, and I thought that by some chance the man might have been my missing partner."
"We did give a young man a lift to town," Mr. Nichols said. "But his name was Walter Crocker."
"Then I'll not trouble you further," said the visitor, arising. "Thank you for your time."
He bowed to Penny and her father and drove away in his car.
"He was afraid to tell me any more about the case for fear I'd charge him a fee," chuckled Mr. Nichols. "Very likely by the time Mr. Madden gets back to Chicago his partner will be there too."
"Dad," said Penny thoughtfully, "maybe the man we picked up really was Jay Kline."
"What was that?" Mr. Nichols demanded.
"I said, perhaps the fellow who rode to town with us wasn't Walter Crocker at all but merely told us that name—"
"I can't keep up with your theories," Mr. Nichols laughed. "You have a new one every minute."
"That's because there are so many new developments, Dad. I wonder if it's too late to stop Mr. Madden?"
"He's a mile down the road by this time. And I'm glad of it because I don't want you to make yourself or me look ridiculous. What gave you the idea that Jay Kline and Walter Crocker are one and the same person?"
"I don't know," admitted Penny. "It just came to me all at once. Walter Crocker mysteriously disappeared—"
"You mean he went back to the city."
"We don't know that at all," Penny argued. "Did anyone except you and me see Walter Crocker? No! He went to talk with his uncle, Herman Crocker, and was seen no more. His automobile mysteriously appears in Crocker's barn—"
"Not so loud!" Mr. Nichols warned. "I think Mrs. Masterbrook is standing by the dining room door."
Penny subsided into hurt silence. She felt that her theories were logical and she did not like to have her father tease her.
"Well, anyway I didn't think up the toy lantern clue!" she muttered under her breath.
"That reminds me, I must telephone Inspector Harris," said Mr. Nichols. "I hope he thinks more of my theory than you do."
Penny could tell that her father was growing deeply interested in the Kirmenbach robbery case and following his talk with Inspector Harris, he admitted that he had promised to do further work.
"It's likely to be a tough case," he told Penny the next morning. "Harris thinks we'll have no luck in tracing the toy lantern. I'm driving over to the Kirmenbach place again this morning."
"I believe I'll stay here this time," she replied.
Penny was glad that she elected to remain, for a short time after her father left, Herman Crocker drove into the yard. He greeted her in a more cordial tone than usual.
"Is everything all right here?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, we're getting along very well," Penny answered, glancing shrewdly at the old man. She felt certain that his real purpose in coming to the cottage was not to inquire for their comfort.
"Mrs. Masterbrook at home?" Mr. Crocker questioned casually.
"I saw her walking down toward the road a few minutes ago. Shall I call her?"
"No, I didn't want to see her anyway," he answered quickly. "Just thought I'd take a look around. I have some things stored up in the attic that I'd like to get."
"Just go right in," said Penny. She fell into step with him. "Oh, by the way, do you know Michael Haymond, our new hired man?"
"Never heard of him."
"I thought he might have been to see you."
"Why should he?" Herman Crocker demanded, looking at Penny suspiciously.
"I'm sure I don't know," she laughed uneasily.
When the man made no comment Penny waited a moment and then decided upon a bold attack.
"For some reason Michael reminds me of your nephew," she said. "I suppose he'll be coming back one of these days."
"Walter?" asked the old man gruffly. "I don't look for it."
"But won't he wish to get his car which is stored in your barn?" Penny asked with pretended innocence.
Herman Crocker's expression became guarded. The girl's words startled him but only a slight twitch of his eye muscles disclosed that he had been taken unawares.
"I suppose Walter will get the car sometime," he answered slowly. "He told me he didn't have the money to pay a repair bill just now."
"You had it towed to your place for him?"
"That's right," replied Herman Crocker irritably. "Any more questions? If not I'll go on up to the attic."
"Oh, I'm sorry," said Penny apologetically.
She had intended to go along with the old man to the attic, but there was something about the look he gave her which made her change her mind. She was afraid she had made her questions too pointed. It would not do for Mr. Crocker to suspect her motives.
"I guess you know your way," she said evenly, opening the screen door for him.
"I ought to," snapped the old man. "I lived in this cottage for eight years."
He entered the house alone and Penny heard him tramping up the stairs to the attic.
"I wonder what he's doing up there?" she thought. "I'd give a lot to find out."
While Penny stood listening to the sounds in the attic she saw Mrs. Masterbrook coming up the path to the cottage. The housekeeper paused by the gate to stare at Mr. Crocker's car and then glanced quickly about.
"What is Herman doing here?" she asked abruptly as Penny met her on the porch.
"I'm sure I don't know," replied the girl. "He said he wanted to get something from the attic."
"The attic!" repeated Mrs. Masterbrook. "Oh!" And for no apparent reason she began to laugh.
"What do you find so funny?"
"Oh, nothing," replied the housekeeper, passing quickly into the cottage.
Penny stared after the woman, thoroughly bewildered by her actions. She felt certain that Mrs. Masterbrook knew why old Herman Crocker had come to the cottage.
Penny sat down on the porch steps to wait. Fifteen minutes elapsed before she heard Mr. Crocker coming down the attic stairway. As he stepped out on the porch she noticed that he had nothing in his hands and he seemed somewhat disturbed.
"Did you find what you were after?" asked Penny.
"Oh, yes—yes," replied the old man absently.
Mrs. Masterbrook had emerged from the kitchen in time to hear the remark.
"Did you really?" she inquired with a slight smirk.
The words were spoken casually enough but Penny thought she detected a note of triumph in the woman's voice. Mr. Crocker noticed it too for he glanced sharply at the housekeeper. Her face was expressionless.
"Well, I'll have to be getting back," the old man said. He walked slowly to the car.
Mrs. Masterbrook waited on the porch until he had driven down the road. The housekeeper was highly pleased about something. Penny thought that she looked exactly like a cat which had drunk its fill of rich cream.
"Mrs. Masterbrook knows what Herman came here for," the girl reflected. "I'd question her only it wouldn't do a bit of good."
Penny hoped that if she showed no interest the housekeeper might offer a little information. She was disappointed. Without a word Mrs. Masterbrook walked back into the cottage.
"I'd like to find out what is in the attic," Penny thought. "When the coast is clear I'm going up there and look around."
Throughout the morning she lingered near the cottage, but it seemed that always either the housekeeper or Michael Haymond was at hand to observe her actions. When Mr. Nichols returned from his walk Penny did not tell him about Herman Crocker's mysterious visit to the attic for she felt certain that he would not consider it mysterious at all. He was deeply absorbed in his own case and would sit for an hour at a time lost in thought.
"Are you worrying about toy lanterns, Dad?" Penny asked mischievously.
"That's right," he agreed with a smile. "I talked with Inspector Harris this morning from the village store. He's not progressing very well in tracing down the lantern clue. It seems there are dozens of companies which manufacture toys exactly like the one you found at Kirmenbach's place."
"Then you've reached a dead end?" asked Penny.
"For the time being, yes. But I've not given up. I still believe that it may be possible to trace the thief by means of the clue. After all, the toy lantern had one distinguishing feature—the cloth wick."
"It's too bad all this had to come up on your vacation," Penny said sympathetically. She could see that the lines of worry had returned to her father's face.
"I wish I had kept out of the case," he returned. "But now that I'm in it, I'll have no peace of mind until it's solved. There's something about that toy lantern clue which challenges me!"
"I feel the same way regarding Herman Crocker," Penny nodded.
"What was that?" Mr. Nichols looked up quickly.
"I meant that our landlord's queer personality fascinates me. He's always doing such strange things."
"Let me see," Mr. Nichols said jokingly. "How many queer characters have you discovered since we came here?"
"Only three, Dad. Mrs. Masterbrook, Michael and old Herman. Unless you count Walter Crocker and Mr. Madden."
"How about the postman? I noticed you were talking with him yesterday."
"Purely upon a matter of business," Penny laughed. "His name isn't down on my list of suspects yet."
She said no more for just then Michael Haymond came up the path with an armful of wood.
After carrying it to the kitchen he returned to the porch. Mr. Nichols motioned him into a rocker.
"I'm afraid I'm not doing very much to earn my wages," the young man said apologetically. "My chief occupation around here seems to be eating and sitting."
"I'm well satisfied," replied the detective.
Although Penny had thought that her father was unwise to hire Michael she liked the young man a great deal. He was quiet, unassuming, and did his tasks willingly. Whenever he had a spare moment he usually spent it with a book. Penny had read the titles with surprise. Michael devoted himself to volumes of philosophy and history and he studied textbooks of mathematics and French.
"Rather deep stuff," Mr. Nichols had commented, looking at one of the philosophy volumes.
"I never had a chance to attend college, sir," Michael had replied, flushing. "I'm trying to educate myself a little."
During the afternoon both Mr. Nichols and Michael absented themselves from the cottage. Mrs. Masterbrook decided that she would walk down to the village. Penny was delighted to be left alone in the house.
The moment that everyone was gone she hastened to the attic. It was a low-ceiling room, dimly lighted by two gable windows. Dust and cobwebs were everywhere.
The attic contained an old chest of drawers, the footboards of a bed, two trunks, a chair with a broken leg, and several boxes of dishes.
As Penny's gaze roved over the objects she observed that a faint scratch on the floor showed where the trunks had been recently moved. Some of the dust had been brushed off from the lids.
"Herman must have been looking at the trunks," the girl thought. "I wonder what he expected to find?"
She lifted the lid of the nearest one and was pleased that it was unlocked. There was nothing in the top tray but beneath it she found old fashioned clothing which had belonged to a woman. The garments had been very carefully packed in moth balls.
Penny opened the second trunk. It too was filled with clothing in a style worn some fifteen years before. In the bottom she came upon an old picture album and a packet of letters. All were addressed to Herman Crocker and appeared to be of a business nature.
Penny was tempted to read the letters, but she put aside the thought. After all it was not very honorable of her to pry into Mr. Crocker's personal affairs without a stronger motive than curiosity.
"If there is any occasion for learning more about the man, I can read the letters later," Penny reflected. "Dad would be ashamed of me if he knew what I was doing."
She replaced the packet in the trunk and closed down the lid. Then after making certain that the chest of drawers contained nothing of interest, she hastened down stairs again and washed the grime from her hands.
Later in the afternoon Mrs. Masterbrook came back from Kendon and it seemed to Penny that she was more subdued than usual. Even Mr. Nichols noticed a change in the woman.
"I wonder what is the matter with her?" he remarked. "She seems to be losing her fire!"
"I guess she's just tired from the long walk to town," Penny replied. However, she watched Mrs. Masterbrook closely, and was inclined to agree that something had gone amiss. The housekeeper looked worried.
"Aren't you feeling well, Mrs. Masterbrook?" she inquired kindly.
"Of course I'm feeling well," the woman snapped.
After supper that night Michael Haymond left the house, but Penny did not know whether or not he went to call upon Herman Crocker. She went to bed about ten, and heard the young man return to the cottage shortly after that hour. By eleven o'clock everyone had gone to bed.
Penny went off to sleep soon after her head touched the pillow. It was hours later that she awoke to hear the kitchen clock chiming three o'clock.
In the hallway a board creaked.
Penny sat up and listened. She was certain that someone was tiptoeing down the hall. For a moment she was frightened. Then she crept out of bed and flung open the door.
At the end of the hall she saw the figure of a man. He fled before she could speak or make an outcry. Penny heard the outside door slam shut. She hurried to a window and was in time to see someone running swiftly toward the woods.
"Dad!" she screamed excitedly. "Wake up! Wake up!" And to emphasize her words, Penny ran to her father's bedroom and pounded on the door with her clenched fist.
"What's the matter, Penny?" cried Mr. Nichols as he opened the door of his room. "Are you having nightmares?"
"Dad, someone broke into the cottage!" she told him tensely. "When I stepped out into the hall he ran away. I saw him disappear into the woods."
By this time the detective was thoroughly awake.
"Are you sure, Penny?"
"Of course I am! I didn't imagine it this time and it wasn't someone after a drink either!"
"Let me get dressed," said her father. "Then I'll look around."
Penny ran back to her own room. She was amazed that Mrs. Masterbrook and Michael had not been aroused. In the next room she could hear the housekeeper snoring contentedly. There seemed no reason to awaken her.
Penny quickly dressed and was ready first.
"We'll take a look around the place," Mr. Nichols said, "but it's probably too late to catch the prowler."
"Yes, he'll be a long way from here by this time," Penny agreed.
Armed with a flashlight, they slipped outside and after making a tour of the house walked as far as the edge of the timber. They found no one.
"It's no use going on," the detective declared. "We'd never catch the fellow now. He may have been a tramp who noticed that our door was unlocked."
"I wonder if Michael Haymond is in his room?" Penny asked abruptly.
"Why wouldn't he be?"
"It seems odd he didn't awaken with me screaming all over the place."
"Mrs. Masterbrook slept through it," Mr. Nichols replied.
"Just the same I'm curious to know if Michael is in his room. Dad, why don't you——"
"Penny, I'll not do it," the detective interrupted. "I like that young man and I'm not going to barge into his room in the middle of the night and ask him a lot of stupid questions."
"All right," Penny returned with a sigh. "But how easy it would be just to peep in the door and see if he's there."
"I'll not do that either," replied Mr. Nichols. "You may have been mistaken about the prowler. You've taken such an imaginative turn this summer."
"Thanks, Dad," Penny drawled. She added mischievously: "Let me know when you've found the owner of the toy lantern."
"There's good common sense behind my theory," said Mr. Nichols seriously. "Inspector Harris seems to think I'm on the wrong track but I have a hunch——"
"In that case you should be generous with your daughter," Penny laughed. "She has a hunch too."
"We'll call a truce," Mr. Nichols smiled. "You're free to trace down all the mystery you can find at Kendon providing that you don't ask me to discharge Michael."
"Seriously, Dad, I think something is going on here that would bear investigation," Penny said soberly. "I'd like to delve into it but I need a sympathetic helper."
"I'm sorry, Penny, but I haven't time to play around."
"I didn't mean you at all, Dad," Penny laughed. "I was thinking about Susan Altman. Would you mind if I invited her down here for a few days?"
"Go ahead if you like. She'll be company for you while I'm working on the Kirmenbach case."
"I'll send a letter right away," Penny declared eagerly.
The next morning after writing to her friend she walked down to the village to post the letter. Dropping in at the grocery store for a loaf of bread she deliberately drew the genial owner into conversation, seeking information regarding Herman Crocker.
"I feel rather sorry for him," she remarked. "I'm sure that he hasn't enough money to feed himself and his grandson properly."
"Don't you worry about that," replied the storekeeper with a quick laugh. "Old Herman has more money than anyone in this town. He inherited plenty when his sister Jennie died in the East. Herman was her only heir, and when he dies the money probably will go to his grandson, Perry."
"Doesn't Mr. Crocker have any other living relatives?" Penny questioned. She was thinking of Walter Crocker.
"Not to my knowledge," answered the storekeeper. "The Crocker family has just about died out."
Penny paid for the bread and walked slowly back toward the cottage. She glanced curiously at the Crocker homestead as she passed it, but as usual the blinds were drawn and the place seemed deserted.
"How unhappy Perry must be there," she thought. "He should go to school and have playmates his own age. I can't see why someone doesn't take an interest in his welfare."
During the next two days Penny found time heavy upon her hands. Mr. Nichols frequently was absent from the cottage and Mrs. Masterbrook and Michael proved very poor company. The housekeeper talked entirely too much about nothing while Michael scarcely spoke a word unless Penny asked him a direct question.
On the afternoon of the second day, for want of another occupation, Penny wandered up to the attic to look around once more.
"If I really mean to learn anything about Herman Crocker I'll have to examine those letters," she reflected. "I don't know whether to do it or not."
Penny opened the trunk and noticed that the layer of clothing had been disturbed. She did not remember having left the garments so carelessly. She refolded the clothes and then felt down in the bottom of the trunk for the packet of letters. It did not seem to be there.
Not until Penny had removed all the clothing piece by piece could she realize that the letters were gone. The only papers remaining in the trunk were old receipts for bills paid. Many of them were stamped tax statements.
"Someone has taken the letters," she told herself. "How foolish I was not to examine them when I had a chance."
Penny could only speculate upon what had become of the missing packet. She did not believe that Herman Crocker had taken the letters, for to her knowledge he had not returned to the cottage since his first visit. It was possible that the night prowler had opened the trunk, but a more likely supposition seemed to be that Mrs. Masterbrook had decided to get more "inside information."
"That woman is a natural born snooper," the girl thought. "She knew that Herman Crocker was up here in the attic too, so it's quite possible she took the letters after he went away."
Although she was disappointed, Penny did not believe that the missing letters had contained anything of vital significance. It was logical to assume that had they served as damaging evidence against Herman Crocker, the man would have destroyed them upon his visit to the attic.
As Penny was reflecting upon the problem, the stairway door opened and Mrs. Masterbrook called her name.
"There's someone here to see you!" the housekeeper reported.
Penny was annoyed at having been caught in the attic. She had not known that Mrs. Masterbrook was anywhere about the premises. It was just another proof that nothing seemed to escape the vigilant eye of the woman.
"I'll be there in a minute," Penny said.
She closed the lid of the trunk, wiped her dusty hands and went quickly down the stairs. Reaching the front door, she gave a cry of amazed delight.
"Susan Altman!"
"I thought you'd be surprised," laughed the other girl, as Penny gave her a welcome hug. "When your letter arrived I didn't stop to debate. I just jumped on the train and came."
"I'm tickled pink!" Penny declared slangily. "When you didn't write, I had started to believe you weren't coming. But why did you walk from town? Why didn't you telephone?"
"I didn't know you had one."
"Oh, yes, we have all the modern conveniences," laughed Penny. "You must be dead tired. Come on in."
"I'm not a bit tired," Susan insisted, "but I'd like to wash a few of the cinders out of my eyes. Such a dirty old train."
"Let me take your suitcase," cried Penny.
The girls went inside and while Susan freshened herself from the journey, they talked as fast as they could.
"What's all this mystery you wrote me about?" Susan asked in an undertone. "Who is Mrs. Masterbrook, and where is that old house you mentioned?"
"You'll hear all about it," Penny promised eagerly. "But let's wait until we're away from the cottage."
"Even the walls have ears?" laughed Susan.
"No, but our housekeeper has," Penny replied.
The girls soon left the cottage, walking down by the ravine where they would be alone. Penny told her chum everything that had happened since she and her father had arrived at Kendon. Susan did not feel that her friend had placed an imaginative interpretation upon any of the events.
"I'm glad you're in sympathy with me," Penny laughed. "I'm hoping that together we may be able to help little Perry Crocker. And incidentally, we might stumble into a mystery which would rival Dad's toy lantern case."
"You know I want to help," said Susan eagerly. "But I'm an awful dub. I never have any ideas."
"I'm a little short of them myself just now," Penny admitted. "But first we'll go down to the Crocker place. I'm anxious for you to meet the main characters of our melodrama."
"I think I noticed the house on the way up the hill," Susan replied. "Is it that ancient, vine-covered mansion?"
"Yes, Mrs. Masterbrook told me Old Herman moved in there after his sister died. He used to live in this cottage."
"And where is this young man named Michael Haymond?"
"I don't know what became of him," Penny admitted. "He should be somewhere around."
"Is he good looking?"
"You would ask that," teased Penny. "No, Michael isn't handsome, but he's nice."
"You said in your letter that you thought he might be a crook——"
"Well, he acted mysteriously at first," Penny said defensively. "But after you get to know him, he seems like anyone else, only he's very reserved."
"Perhaps Mr. Crocker will turn out that way."
"I don't think so," Penny smiled. "He's really an eccentric character. Do you mind walking down Knob Hill?"
"Not at all. I need a little exercise."
The distance between the cottage and Mr. Crocker's house was only a quarter of a mile. Penny intended to use as a pretext for calling upon the old man that she wished to buy more eggs. However, as the girls drew near the mansion they saw Mr. Crocker's car coming down the lane.
"There goes Herman now!" Penny exclaimed. "And Perry is with him."
The car reached the end of the lane and turned down the main road toward Kendon.
"Well, it looks as if I'll not get to meet the old gentleman after all," commented Susan.
"No, but this will be a good time to see the house at close range. With Mr. Crocker away, we can look around as much as we please."
As the girls walked on up the lane Penny told Susan about the automobile which she had seen parked in Mr. Crocker's barn.
"What do you think became of the owner?" asked Susan. "You're not intimating that Walter Crocker never went back to the city?"
"I've asked myself that question a great many times. I know that Mr. Crocker's nephew came here to claim an inheritance, yet the people of Kendon are under the impression that Old Herman has no living relatives except Perry."
"You're making a very serious accusation against Mr. Crocker."
"Oh, I'm not saying that he had anything to do with his nephew's disappearance," Penny said quickly. "I'm just speculating about it. For that matter, I'd not tell anyone else my thoughts."
"It wouldn't be wise——" Susan began.
Her words ended in a gasp of alarm for at that moment Mr. Crocker's hound came around the corner of the house. Both girls stopped short.
"Rudy is vicious!" Penny warned. "And he's been left unchained."
"Let's get away from here."
The girls turned and started hurriedly back down the lane, but the hound had made up his mind that they were intruders. With a low growl he leaped toward them.
"Run!" cried Susan in terror.
Instead of fleeing, Penny stooped to snatch up a stick. Rudy sprang at her, and the force of his powerful body knocked her to the ground. Susan screamed in terror.
Help was closer at hand than either of the girls suspected. A man had been crouching behind the hedge. As Penny struggled to regain her feet, he came running toward her. It was Michael Haymond.