The Girl Detective Megapack: 25 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls

by Mildred A. Wirt

  The chief showed a desire to be gone. Doubtless to learn if that telephone from Clayton had come into his garage.

  “We must be going,” said Terry.

  “But we shall see you again,” added Sim.

  “Marshlands will be a place for a real vacation, now that there is no mystery to solve,” said Arden, laughing a little.

  “I thank you.” Dimitri bowed very formally. “And, if you will be so good, include in your telegram to my brother the fact that I am going to sell the snuffbox and give Olga the share she thinks she ought to have. Poor girl! She must not suffer because of my love for a relic. I shall sell the box.”

  “Oh,” murmured Arden. “That lovely box!”

  “It will still be lovely, no matter who possesses it,” said Dimitri. “And now I must rest.”

  Truly he was very weary, for his imprisonment in the dank cellar had told on his nerves. But he said he needed no attention; that he and Tania would be all right for the remainder of their stay on the Merry Jane. He did need a little fresh food, however, and Chief Reilly promised to bring some back in his motorboat.

  So, with bows from Dimitri, tail-wagging from Tania, and hand-flutterings from the girls, while the chief demonstrated his gold-tooth grin, the visitors came away. They went back to get Terry’s boat, and then the girls, being towed by the chief to the dock of “Buckingham Palace,” hastened to tell Mrs. Landry the news.

  “Well, fancy that!” she exclaimed. “I hope it is all true about Melissa.”

  It was true, as they learned a few days later, for a letter arrived from Emma Tash confirming everything, and with it there was a little note from Melissa. Of course Emma Tash knew nothing about the prisoner in the cellar, and Melissa was forced into silence by her father. She did not know, as a matter of fact, until the last few days of the imprisonment, that her father had captured Dimitri. If she had known, she probably would have told the girls.

  “But everything is all right now,” said Arden as she and her chums sat on the warm sands after a dip in the ocean.

  “Yes,” said Terry, “the mystery is over.”

  “And it was a good one while it lasted,” declared Sim. “See what Arden gets out of it.”

  “What?” asked Arden, letting sand flow through her tanned fingers.

  “Lovely picture.”

  “Oh, that!”

  “Will your folks let you take it?” asked Terry.

  “Oh, yes. They didn’t make any fuss at all when I told them.”

  “I don’t know what Dimitri would have done if they had,” laughed Sim. “Oh, he is such an interesting character.”

  “So is the chief, if you come to that,” spoke Terry.

  “It’s a long lane that has no back door,” chuckled Arden. And then she ducked to avoid a clam shell tossed at her by Sim.

  “In a way it’s rather sad,” said Terry dreamily, after a long, thoughtful pause.

  “What?” asked Sim.

  “Having a mystery end. I wonder if we’ll ever be involved in another?”

  “Maybe,” said Sim.

  And the girls were. In the succeeding volume, The Hermit of Pirate Light, will be told what happened when the girls spent another summer together.

  Several times during the remainder of the season at Marshlands, Arden and her chums visited Dimitri at his houseboat. He finished Arden’s portrait, which was later exhibited in New York, and the fact was made the occasion for a little party attended by Olga and Serge. Olga seemed a much different person, now that she had some money from the sale of the Czar’s snuffbox, which brought a very large sum. Dimitri also gave his brother part of the price. As for himself, he never seemed to care about money.

  “My art is everything,” he said. Truly it seemed so.

  Chief Reilly, who was a guest at the “picture party,” as it was called, admitted that George Clayton had left a telephone message telling about his prisoner and urging that he be released.

  “But, shucks,” said the chief, “you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.”

  “If he says that again,” threatened Sim, “I’ll run home.”

  But the chief didn’t.

  THE PENNY NICHOLS SERIES, by Mildred A. Wirt

  (Written under the pseudonym “Joan Clark”)

  Mildred A. Wirt wrote many of the classic Nancy Drew novels, and she also wrote a number of other, similar series (including the Penny Parker series, which we have collected in The Penny Parker Megapack). The Penny Nichols series consisted of four volumes:

  Penny Nichols Finds a Clue (1936)

  Penny Nichols and the Mystery of the Lost Key (1936)

  Penny Nichols and the Black Imp (1936)

  Penny Nichols and the Knob Hill Mystery (1939)

  PENNY NICHOLS FINDS A CLUE, by Mildred A. Wirt

  CHAPTER I

  A Warning

  Penny Nichols flung open the office door of the Nichols Detective Agency, descending upon a dignified, gray-haired man who was busy at his desk.

  “Dad,” she announced, “I’ve come to report a mysterious disappearance!”

  Christopher Nichols dropped the correspondence upon which he was working and regarded his daughter for a moment, his gray eyes flashing an indulgent welcome.

  “What sort of disappearance?” he inquired cautiously.

  Penny laughed as she opened her purse, disclosing an empty coin container.

  “It seems to be my allowance again. Yesterday I had two dollars. Now the old pocketbook is as bare as Mother Hubbard’s cupboard!”

  Mr. Nichols’ chief interest in life centered about his charming young daughter and he found it hard at times to keep from pampering her. It was especially difficult at this very moment as Penny stood there, her blue eyes twinkling mischievously, her full red lips parted in an enticing smile, and a few unruly ringlets of curly golden hair framing her forehead in an artistry both casual and becoming.

  “Now that is a most bewildering case,” he agreed with mock seriousness. “I don’t suppose that rattle-trap roadster of yours might offer a clue to the mystery?”

  “I’m afraid it does,” Penny admitted. “Only this time I indulged in seat covers instead of spare parts. As a result I’m flat broke. And I’m to meet Susan Altman at the tennis courts in ten minutes.”

  Mr. Nichols smiled indulgently as he reached into his pocket for a roll of bills.

  “I’ll come to the rescue this time, young lady, but mind, I’m charging it up to next week’s allowance.”

  “That’s fair enough.” Carelessly, Penny picked up several papers from the desk, studying them curiously. “What’s this? A new case?”

  Her father nodded as he quickly retrieved the documents.

  “I’ve been hired by the Reliance Insurance Company to track down a gang of auto thieves.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “Unless I miss my guess it will prove a baffling case. I am afraid we may have to postpone our vacation trip to the mountains, Penny.”

  “Can’t you arrange to capture the bold, bad men a little ahead of schedule?” Penny bantered.

  “I wish it would prove as simple as that.”

  “It seems a shame to give up the vacation, because you’ve worked so hard lately. You really need a long rest.”

  “We’ll both take it when this case is solved,” Mr. Nichols promised. “Run along now, for I’m particularly busy.”

  Not in the least offended by the abrupt dismissal, Penny blew her father an impudent kiss as she went out the door.

  Since the death of Mrs. Nichols many years before, Penelope and her father had lived together in a large white house on Hilburn Street with only Mrs. Gallup, an elderly housekeeper, to see that the establishment ran smoothly. It was not surprising that under such an arrangement the fifteen-year-old girl enjoyed rare freedom. Yet Penny never abused her privileges and she enjoyed the complete confidence of her father.

  Penny owned her own roadster and drove it well. To be sure, the car was a
second-hand model, but one of which she was very proud, for she had paid for it herself by teaching swimming at the Y.W.C.A. Automobiles, Penny discovered to her chagrin, had an unpleasant way of breaking down at odd moments, and for that reason her expense account usually was far ahead of her allowance. Occasionally, Mr. Nichols came to her rescue with very acceptable gifts of tires and spare parts.

  Reaching the tennis court, Penny parked her car on a near-by street. She found Susan Altman, her chum, already awaiting her.

  “It’s almost too hot today for tennis,” the dark-haired girl complained as she took her position at the baseline of the cement court, preparing to serve the first ball.

  For two long hours the girls battled back and forth. Although usually they were well matched, upon this particular day Susan found herself unable to cope with her companion’s sizzling service and well-placed drives. Finally, after completely missing a ball which Penny had sent over the net with bullet-like speed, she threw down her racquet in disgust.

  “I’ve had enough punishment! That makes the third straight set you’ve won.”

  “It’s getting almost too dark to see the ball,” Penny said generously. “Shall we call it an evening and finish off with something to eat?”

  They crossed over to Eby’s Café, a favorite haunt of Belton City’s younger set. The booths were quite deserted.

  “Everyone seems to have gone away for the summer,” Susan mourned as she pondered over the menu. “I suppose you’ll be leaving soon too, Penny.”

  “No chance of it, I’m afraid. Dad has become involved in a new case which may keep us in town indefinitely.”

  “I wish my father were a detective,” Susan commented a trifle enviously. “It’s too bad about the vacation of course, but your life is exciting at least.”

  It seemed to her that Penny always led an unhampered, adventurous existence. At any rate, the girl was well acquainted with interesting happenings at the Belton City police court and had more than a nodding acquaintance with fascinating personages of the city.

  “I’ve never had any real adventures,” Penny declared gloomily. “Unfortunately, Dad is a little secretive about his sleuthing activities. I’d give anything to know about this latest case—”

  Her voice trailed off for the two girls had heard a shrill warning whistle which they instantly recognized as the fire siren. Although they had not even begun their suppers they rushed to the plate-glass window to watch the red engine clatter by.

  “Why, it’s turning down our street!” Susan exclaimed. “Oh, I hope our house isn’t afire!”

  “Let’s jump in my car and follow,” Penny proposed.

  They hurriedly left the café. Penny had parked her roadster just out of sight around the corner. But as they viewed the car, they both stopped short in amazement.

  “The rear wheel is gone!” Susan gasped. “Surely that can’t be your roadster, Penny!”

  It had grown quite dark outside and for an instant both girls believed they had made a mistake in identifying the car. Yet one glance at the license number assured them that they had made no error. A daring thief had jacked up the rear axle, stealing an almost new wheel which Penny’s father had purchased for her only the previous week. An inspection disclosed that the spare wheel also had been taken.

  “I never heard of such an outrage!” Penny stormed. “Why, we couldn’t have been in that café fifteen minutes! The theft was accomplished almost under our eyes!”

  “I hope the loss is covered by insurance,” Susan said anxiously.

  “I don’t know whether it is or not. Dad looks after everything like that. Oh, dear, unless I can get in touch with him, we’re practically stranded here.”

  Although the girls were only a short distance from Mr. Nichols’ office they were nearly a mile from their homes. The roadster had been parked several blocks from a street car line.

  “We won’t be able to learn about the fire either,” Susan worried. “I wonder if it could have been at our house?”

  “It isn’t likely, but let’s telephone and make certain.”

  Even as she spoke they heard the fire engine returning from its recent run.

  “It couldn’t have been much of a fire,” Susan commented in relief. “At least it’s out now.”

  “I’ll see if I can get in touch with Dad,” Penny offered.

  She was relieved to find Mr. Nichols still at his office. After listening to an excited account of all that had befallen, he promised to come over immediately and take charge of the stripped roadster.

  Ten minutes later he drove up in his sedan.

  “This isn’t as unfortunate as it appears,” he told the downcast Penny. “The loss is completely covered by insurance. Besides, I have a dark suspicion that this little job was handled by the same gang of men I am after. I may glean a few valuable clues.”

  After making a brief inspection of the car Mr. Nichols turned his own sedan over to Penny, directing her to take it home while he attended to the stripped roadster and reported to the police.

  Susan had promised to spend the night at the Nichols home, so the girls drove directly toward the house on Hilburn Street. Despite Mr. Nichols’ matter-of-fact attitude regarding the theft, they considered it an event of major importance. They were so absorbed in an animated discussion of the affair that they were taken completely by surprise when a policeman held up his hand for Penny to stop.

  “Now what have I done?” she murmured in alarm, bringing the sedan to a sudden halt at the curbing. “I hope I haven’t crashed a light.”

  The officer stepped up to the car window.

  “Aren’t you Miss Nichols?” he questioned.

  “Why, yes, I am.” Penny was slightly relieved at his tone.

  “I recognized your car and knew you lived in the neighborhood. I thought I’d give you a friendly warning.”

  “A warning? I don’t understand.”

  “We’re on the lookout for a crook who vanished somewhere in this vicinity,” the officer explained. “In fact, he ran through the hedge which borders your place.”

  “Did you search the grounds?” Penny asked with interest.

  “Yes, but he made his get-away. I just thought I’d tip you off to be careful.”

  “We’ll be on the lookout,” Penny promised. “Thanks for telling us.”

  The officer moved aside and she drove on again.

  “I’ve had almost enough excitement for one evening without encountering a desperado,” Susan declared with a little shiver as they approached the Nichols residence. “I wonder why they’re after the man?”

  “He’s probably a jail breaker,” Penny returned carelessly.

  Susan studied her chum admiringly.

  “You’re the most casual person I ever knew, Penelope Nichols. Didn’t that warning give you the creeps?”

  “To tell you the truth I didn’t think much about it. The man would be miles from here by this time.”

  Nevertheless, as she turned the car into the gravel driveway, Penny’s keen gaze swept the dark grounds.

  Susan likewise surveyed the yard anxiously. Suddenly she uttered a low cry, nervously clutching her companion’s arm.

  “I saw a shadow just then!” she whispered tensely. “I do believe someone is hiding in the lilac bushes!”

  CHAPTER II

  Inside the Trunk

  Penny instantly halted the car on the driveway, peering in the direction which her chum indicated.

  “I don’t see anyone,” she insisted. “Perhaps the shadow you saw was caused by that big tree.”

  She pointed to a large oak which shaded the rear porch of the Nichols’ home. Its swaying boughs did produce grotesque silhouettes upon the path near the lilac bushes.

  “You may be right,” Susan admitted reluctantly. “Only I was almost positive I saw someone.”

  “I think your nerves are a tiny bit on edge tonight,” Penny laughed. Even so she was not quite sure Susan was mistaken.

  She drove the sed
an into the dark garage. As she was preparing to close the heavy double doors she thought she heard a step on the gravel path.

  “Is that you, Mrs. Gallup?” she called.

  There was no answer.

  “I was right,” Susan whispered tensely. “Someone is prowling about the grounds.”

  “There’s no one about,” Penny maintained after peering carefully around. “Probably I imagined that I heard footsteps. Come on, let’s go to the house.”

  It was reassuring to see a light burning in the kitchen. The window shades had not been drawn and from the outside, Mrs. Gallup could be observed washing dishes. As the girls came in she greeted them in obvious relief.

  “I’m so glad you’re back, Penny. I was beginning to be afraid that something had happened to you.”

  “Quite a bit did happen,” Penny laughed. “By the way, you haven’t seen anyone prowling about the yard this evening, have you?”

  “Why, no, I’ve been so busy that I’ve scarcely glanced out the window. Early this afternoon a tramp stopped at the door for food. After I gave him a sandwich he went off. I hope he hasn’t come back to make trouble.”

  “Oh, no,” Penny assured her quickly, “I’m sure there’s no need for alarm.”

  “Then why did you ask?”

  Penny was forced to relate what the policeman had told her, although she realized that the warning would worry the housekeeper.

  “Dear me, I don’t feel safe with your father gone. To think that so much has been going on around here and I didn’t know a thing about it! Why, I haven’t even locked the doors!”

  “I doubt that it will be necessary now,” Penny said, peering into the refrigerator to see what she could find for a belated supper. “Dad will soon be home anyway.”

  “I’m going to lock all the doors and windows this minute,” Mrs. Gallup insisted firmly. “With so much silverware in the house, it isn’t wise to take any chance.”

  Lowering the window blinds in the dining room, the housekeeper went directly to the buffet, removing a quantity of choice silverware which had been in the Nichols family for several generations. Leaving the girls to forage their own supper, she carried the box upstairs, intending to lock it in her own bureau drawer. Returning again to the lower floor she scurried about closing doors and slamming down windows.