The Girl Detective Megapack: 25 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls
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“And if I’m a judge of it, she’s a chronic grumbler and a gossip,” replied Penny. “But we’re only paying five dollars, so we can’t be too particular.”
Mrs. Masterbrook soon came down the walk with a small handbag. She crowded into the front seat of the car and even before they were well on their way to Kendon, began to question her new employer. She asked his name, his business, where he was from, why he had come to Kendon and how long he meant to stay.
Penny glanced impishly at her father, who was growing slightly annoyed. She had warned him that Mrs. Masterbrook would prove to be a gossip.
“I met Mr. Crocker’s grandson this morning,” she remarked, hoping to switch the conversation to a less personal topic. “He seems like a fine lad.”
“Yes, but it’s a shame the way Herman brings him up,” replied Mrs. Masterbrook, shaking her head sadly. “Perry has never had much schooling and he’s kept at home all the time.”
“I should think the school authorities would see that the boy attended classes,” remarked Mr. Nichols.
“They don’t like to cross Herman,” Mrs. Masterbrook explained. “At least that’s how I figure it.”
“Mr. Crocker doesn’t actually mistreat the boy?” Penny questioned.
“Herman couldn’t be very good to anyone even if he tried. Perry was his daughter Ella’s son, and I guess old Herman thought more of Ella than he did of any other member of his family. When she died he took the boy to raise.”
“I judge his own wife isn’t living,” remarked Mr. Nichols.
“No, poor Ida went to her rest come twelve years ago this fall. Folks said she wouldn’t have taken down with pneumonia if Herman had given her enough to eat.”
Neither Penny nor her father encouraged Mrs. Masterbrook to talk, but all the way to the cottage she chattered about first one person and then another. With no effort on her part, Penny gathered many items of interesting information concerning Herman Crocker.
“Folks around here call him a miser,” the woman revealed. “When his sister Jenny died, she left quite a tidy little fortune. Some people don’t think Herman ever inherited very much of it, but I could tell ‘em a few things about that matter if I were minded to do it.”
“I’m sorry,” interrupted Mr. Nichols, “but the Crocker family isn’t of great interest to us. Suppose we forget about it.”
“I thought you wanted to hear,” retorted Mrs. Masterbrook indignantly. She subsided into hurt silence.
Penny felt sorry that her father had discouraged the woman from talking. Although she did not approve of idle gossip, she had been eager to learn more about Herman Crocker and his queer relatives. She wondered too if Mrs. Masterbrook could tell her anything about Mr. Crocker’s nephew, Walter.
Penny and her father left the housekeeper at the cottage and then drove back to the village for supplies.
“I’m afraid I made a great mistake in hiring her,” confessed the detective. “She’ll talk us crazy.”
“At least you must admit it’s interesting to have all the inside information about our landlord.”
“I’m not concerned in Crocker’s affairs,” Mr. Nichols rejoined. “Anyway, I’d not believe a word that woman said about him. Obviously, she bears a grudge.”
Penny and her father made their purchases in one of the grocery stores, finding the owner a pleasant, genial individual. During the course of the conversation he remarked upon the automobile accident which had occurred the previous night.
“It’s a funny thing about it,” he said. “The owner of the car disappeared and no one seems to know the driver.”
“Why, my daughter and I brought him to town last night,” declared Mr. Nichols quickly. “He was Herman Crocker’s nephew, or so he told us.”
“You don’t say! Well, that’s the first time I ever heard that Herman had a living nephew. Shall I carry these packages out to the car for you?”
“Yes, please,” requested the detective.
The storekeeper deposited the grocery order in the automobile and then went back into his shop.
“Dad, Mr. Crocker asked me not to tell anyone about his nephew’s having been here,” Penny said as they started up Knob Hill.
“Well, I didn’t make any such promise,” replied her father. “I can’t see why there should be any mystery about it. Anyway, it will be fairly easy for the police to learn the man’s name by tracing the license plates of his abandoned car.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Penny agreed. “I can’t for the life of me understand why Walter Crocker would go back to the city without trying to salvage his car.”
“I’d not worry about it too much,” smiled the detective. “For all we know he may have left orders at one of the garages to have it hauled in and repaired.”
Upon arriving at their cottage, Mr. Nichols and Penny were pleasantly surprised to find Mrs. Masterbrook hard at work. She had cleaned up all the rooms, and she came out to the car to help carry in the groceries.
“The electric company man was here while you were gone,” she told Mr. Nichols. “The lights are on now.”
“Fine,” replied the detective. “And how about our supply of wood?”
“Herman sent over enough for today and tomorrow. He said he’d get busy and cut more. But I’d not count on it. Herman is as lazy as all get out.”
Mr. Nichols laughed and told the housekeeper that he and Penny were going for a little walk before lunch.
“It will be ready at one o’clock sharp,” Mrs. Masterbrook warned. “I hope you’ll be back on time, because I don’t like to keep victuals waiting.”
“We’ll be here,” promised the detective. When he and Penny were beyond hearing, he added: “I’m afraid we made a big mistake in hiring that woman. I can see right now that she means to be the boss of the show.”
“Oh, well, if the weather is nice we can stay away from the cottage most of the time,” laughed Penny.
After exploring the ravine, they went back to the cottage to find that luncheon was nearly ready. In justice to Mrs. Masterbrook, the detective admitted that the meal was excellent. She had made biscuits, cake, and gravy, besides preparing the usual vegetables and meat.
However, without being requested to do so, the housekeeper seated herself at the head of the table. Penny and her father had assumed that she would take her meals alone, but neither of them had the courage to make the suggestion. They were a little afraid of the woman’s sharp tongue.
Conversation was difficult in Mrs. Masterbrook’s presence. Penny and Mr. Nichols did not wish to say anything of a personal nature lest the housekeeper repeat it to her acquaintances. Mrs. Masterbrook talked enough for everyone. She prattled on about the gossip of the town until Penny and her father were thoroughly bored. They were relieved when the meal was over.
“I believe I’ll drive back to town this afternoon,” the detective announced. “I want to buy a newspaper, and I’ll order a telephone installed.”
“I thought you were eager to lose contact with the world,” laughed Penny.
“To a certain extent—yes,” replied Mr. Nichols. “Bui I also like to keep informed.”
“You don’t need to worry about that part,” chuckled Penny. “Mrs. Masterbrook will see to it that you’re up to date on all the news.”
“She’ll probably appropriate the telephone too,” said the detective ruefully. “But I think I’ll put one in anyway. Coming with me, Penny?”
“No, I’d rather stay here, Dad. I thought I’d write a letter to Susan.”
After her father had driven away, Penny unpacked her suitcase. Then she carried her writing materials to a pleasant nook not far from the ravine, finding a flat rock which served as a desk.
The letter was soon finished. Penny sealed it and then sat for a long time gazing at the distant trees which were waving gently in the breeze.
“It’s nice here,” she thought dreamily, “but rather dull. I wish Susan could visit me. Together we might stir up a little excitemen
t.”
After a while Penny dozed off. When she awoke she gathered up her writing things and walked back to the house. She chanced to be wearing tennis shoes and so made very little noise as she entered.
Penny had no intention of trying to spy upon Mrs. Masterbrook. In fact, she had forgotten all about the housekeeper as she made her way toward her own bedroom.
The kitchen and living rooms were in order but quite deserted. The significance of this did not dawn upon Penny.
Then she came to the doorway of her father’s bedroom. She might have passed it without a glance had she not heard a startled cry.
“Oh, I didn’t hear you come in!” muttered Mrs. Masterbrook in confusion.
The woman had been caught in the act of examining letters and papers contained in Mr. Nichols’ suitcase. She straightened up quickly, a deep flush spreading over her cheeks.
“Mrs. Masterbrook!” said Penny sternly. “Kindly explain the meaning of this! Why are you prying into my father’s private papers?”
CHAPTER V
A Night Visitor
“How dare you accuse me of such a thing!” exclaimed Mrs. Masterbrook angrily. “I merely came into this bedroom to do the work for which I was hired.”
“Did my father employ you to read his private letters?” asked Penny coldly.
“I was cleaning the room and I thought I would unpack the suitcase. I had just come upon these letters when you walked in.”
“I’ll relieve you of them now,” said Penny. “Hereafter, please don’t touch anything either in father’s suitcase or my own.”
Mrs. Masterbrook did not trust herself to reply. With an angry toss of her head she marched back to the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.
“I don’t care if she is out of sorts!” Penny thought. “Dad ought to discharge her for a trick like this.”
She returned the letters to the suitcase and after locking the bag took the key with her. Later in the afternoon when Mr. Nichols came back to the cottage in company with one of the telephone men, she drew him aside to reveal what the housekeeper had done.
“It’s nothing so very serious,” the detective said. “Of course the trick was a contemptible one, but I doubt that she learned anything of interest. The letters all dealt with matters of routine business.”
“But if Mrs. Masterbrook reads our letters she’ll pry into other things too.”
“We could discharge her,” the detective said, frowning thoughtfully. “The point is—where would we get another housekeeper on short notice? Especially one who can cook.”
“Mrs. Masterbrook does do her work well,” Penny admitted grudgingly.
“I’ll discharge her if you say the word, Penny.”
“No, let her stay,” the girl decided. “But we’ll have to be very careful about what we do and say around her.”
With a telephone installed, the electric lights connected, and the house stocked with groceries, Penny and her father felt that they were fairly well established in the cottage. As was to be expected, Mrs. Masterbrook acted very distant during the remainder of the day. She went about the house with an injured air which was amusing to Penny and Mr. Nichols.
Toward evening the telephone rang.
“Why, that was a long and two short!” exclaimed Penny, springing up from her chair. “That’s our ring.”
“Must be a mistake,” replied Mr. Nichols. “No one would be calling us so soon.”
Before Penny could reach the telephone, Mrs. Masterbrook answered it. She appeared in the doorway and said primly to Mr. Nichols:
“Long distance is calling.”
“Long distance!” exclaimed the detective. “That’s queer. How did anyone get my number so soon?”
“I’m sure you can’t blame that on me,” replied the housekeeper maliciously.
Mr. Nichols went to answer the call. Penny noticed that Mrs. Masterbrook lingered not far away, evidently listening. Upon seeing that the girl was watching, she retreated to the kitchen.
In a few minutes Mr. Nichols returned to the living room.
“I hope nothing is wrong at home,” Penny said in a low tone. She was afraid the call had been from Mrs. Gallup.
“No, everything is all right,” returned the detective. “That was Inspector Harris who telephoned me.”
“But how did he get your telephone number?”
“Oh, he plagued Mrs. Gallup into revealing our address, and then he found that we had a telephone installed today. Worse luck!”
“Mrs. Gallup was instructed not to tell where we were unless something of great importance arose.”
“The inspector evidently convinced her that this was a vital matter.”
“What is it all about anyway?” Penny inquired curiously.
“Inspector Harris wants me to take a new case. Last night a big robbery was committed at Hannibal, which is the nearest town to Kendon. The inspector thought that since I was on the scene it would be convenient for me to conduct the investigation.”
“Convenient for him.”
“Obviously.”
Penny glanced quickly at her father. “And what did you tell him, Dad?”
“I said I wouldn’t do it. This is my vacation and I mean to enjoy it.”
“Good for you, Dad,” Penny said approvingly.
“The inspector didn’t like to take ‘no’ for an answer,” Mr. Nichols went on. “He claimed that this was not an ordinary robbery case and that I’d be sorry if I turned it down.”
“What was so unusual about it, Dad?”
“Nothing that I could tell. A private home was entered and the thieves escaped with about a thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry. The owner, a man of wealth, insists upon private detectives taking over the case. He’s not satisfied with the local police talent.”
While Penny and her father were discussing the robbery, Mrs. Masterbrook announced dinner. To their relief, she did not talk during the meal but maintained an aloof air.
“I don’t like the look of the weather,” remarked Mr. Nichols, glancing out the window. “I shouldn’t be surprised if we have a storm tonight.”
“The wind does appear to be rising,” Penny agreed. “Just listen to it whistle in the grove of evergreens—it gives one a creepy feeling.”
“I hope we have a good roof over us,” Mr. Nichols declared. “One that doesn’t leak.”
As he spoke, the room was suddenly plunged into darkness.
“Mercy on us!” screamed Mrs. Masterbrook in terror. “What’s happened to the lights?”
“Probably the current has been turned off, or the high wind may have broken a wire,” said the detective calmly.
“Or a fuse may have blown out,” Penny added.
“I’ll get my flashlight from the car and take a look,” said Mr. Nichols. “I don’t know if I can locate the fuse box or not.”
“It’s in the cellar,” contributed Mrs. Masterbrook.
“The only way to get down there is from the outside of the cottage,” Penny added. “Those strange-looking double doors with the iron rings pull up, and beneath them is a stone stairway which leads into the cellar. Be careful, for it’s easy to fall. I took a tumble myself this afternoon when I was prowling around.”
Mr. Nichols groped his way to the door and disappeared into the night. A few minutes later Penny saw the beam of his flashlight playing over the lawn. Then the cellar doors were thrown back and the light vanished.
“You’d not catch me going down into that dark, damp hole at night!” Mrs. Masterbrook said in a low voice.
“Why not?” asked Penny. “Isn’t it just as dark here?”
“Something might happen. If you knew what I do about this place—”
“What do you mean?” questioned Penny quickly.
“Oh, I don’t tell everything I know,” the housekeeper retorted.
Penny felt certain that the woman was trying to plague her, but nevertheless she was greatly relieved when her father returned to the kitchen.
“I’ll telephone Mr. Crocker!” Penny announced. “He’s our landlord and he ought to work at the job.”
“I’ll bet a cent you don’t get any,” the detective rejoined.
After a lengthy telephone conversation, Penny faced her father triumphantly.
“You lose your cent,” she laughed. “Mr. Crocker was provoked, but he promised to come right over with a new fuse.”
Twenty minutes later an ancient automobile was heard laboring up Knob Hill. Mr. Crocker came up the walk, carrying a lighted lantern.
“Seems like you folks are having a lot of trouble here,” he said crossly as Mr. Nichols met him at the door.
“We’re sorry to trouble you,” replied the detective. “If the cottage had been better equipped—”
“I’ll put in the fuse for you to be sure it’s good,” Mr. Crocker interrupted.
He and Mr. Nichols went down into the cellar together. From the doorway of the kitchen Penny noticed that someone was sitting in Mr. Crocker’s car.
“Is that you, Perry?” she called softly.
There was no answer, so she walked down to the car. Mr. Crocker’s grandson sat hunched down in the front seat.
“Aren’t you going to say hello to me?” asked Penny. “I do believe you’re shy.”
“I’m not shy,” replied the little boy quickly. “But my grandpa says he’ll whip me if I talk with you.”
Penny was silent for a moment.
“Of course I don’t wish you to get into trouble, Perry,” she said quietly, “but why doesn’t your grandfather like me?”
“Because you’ll ask too many questions,” the boy answered. “Please go away now, before grandpa finds you talking with me.”
The cottage became flooded with light as Mr. Nichols and Herman Crocker replaced the old fuse. Penny knew that they would be coming up the steps in a moment. She did not wish Perry to be punished so she slipped back into the house.
However, as soon as Herman Crocker had driven away Penny ran back outside to meet her father. She told him what Perry had said.