“For some reason she’s taken an intense dislike to him, Dad.”
“I noticed that, Penny. Mrs. Masterbrook isn’t happy unless she is reading the law to someone. With young Michael here, she’ll vent her spite on him and leave us to enjoy our vacation.”
“How marvelously your mind works, Dad!”
“I do think of a smart idea now and then.”
“Wouldn’t it be wiser to discharge Mrs. Masterbrook?”
“She bakes wonderful biscuits,” the detective answered. “Besides, she amuses me. I’m curious to see how she gets on with young Michael.”
“You’re beyond my depth,” Penny said with a shrug. “I don’t understand your whims at all.”
She was forced to admit that from the standpoint of work her father had made no mistake in hiring the young man. Michael put the cooking stove in good order again, chopped a day’s supply of wood and repaired the pump. He worked quietly, yet effectively. Even the housekeeper could find no complaint to voice.
“Michael, I suppose you’ll be wanting to see Herman Crocker sometime today,” Mr. Nichols remarked to the young man.
“Why, yes, sir, I guess so,” he replied uncertainly.
“You said that was why you came here,” the detective reminded him.
“Yes, sir. I do want to see Mr. Crocker on a matter of business.”
“Feel free to run down there whenever you like,” Mr. Nichols told him. “You’ve done enough work around here for one day.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Mr. Nichols went for a long walk in the woods but Penny chose to remain at the cottage with a magazine. Michael worked about the yard, washing the automobile. He did not seem in any hurry to make his call upon Herman Crocker.
“I don’t believe he’s anxious to go there at all,” Penny thought. “I wonder if he didn’t make up the entire story?”
She was somewhat surprised to observe that for the most part Mrs. Masterbrook left the young man entirely alone. The housekeeper seemed more subdued than usual as if she were brooding over some matter.
The day passed quickly. Penny knew very well that Michael had not visited Herman Crocker for she had kept watch of him the entire time. She had a theory that he did not wish to go there at all, and to test it she called the young man.
“Michael,” she said, “Mrs. Masterbrook tells me that we need fresh eggs. I’m driving down to Crocker’s place after supper to get some. Don’t you wish to ride along with me?”
The young man hesitated, his eyes dropping before Penny’s steady gaze.
“Why, I thought I’d wait until tomorrow before I see Mr. Crocker. Thanks just the same.”
When supper was over, Penny drove down to the Crocker place. No lights were visible in the window. Either the owner had gone away or was trying to save electricity.
Penny parked the car in the lane. She looked carefully about for the yellow hound. To her relief he was nowhere around the place. Quickly she walked across the yard and pounded on the door.
Penny waited a few minutes and then turned back to the car. She halted as she heard a rap on one of the windows. Glancing up, she saw Perry looking out at her.
“Oh, hello, Perry,” Penny called. “Open the door.”
“I can’t,” shouted the boy through the glass. “It’s locked.”
“Isn’t your grandfather here?”
The lad shook his head. “He’s been gone all day. I’m locked up in here.”
“Can’t you open a window?” Penny called.
Again Perry shook his head. “I haven’t had anything except bread to eat all day,” he told her. “I’m getting real hungry.”
“Well, I should think so,” said Penny grimly.
She observed that the lower floor windows were all high from the ground, beyond the reach of anyone in the yard.
“Aren’t any of the upstairs windows unfastened?” she called to the boy.
“Yes, but I can’t get out there.”
“Does your grandfather have a ladder?”
“I think there’s one somewhere in the barn.”
“I’ll find it,” Penny said encouragingly. “Just you wait until I come back, Perry.”
She hurried off to the barn, well aware that in taking matters into her own hands, she was certain to incur the wrath of Herman Crocker.
“I don’t care if I do get into trouble,” she thought indignantly. “He has no right to shut Perry up in the house without anything to eat. It’s cruel.”
Penny opened the barn doors and stepped inside. She stopped short to stare at an automobile which stood on the floor beside the granary. One glance assured her that it was not Herman Crocker’s ancient car. This was an expensive model with a streamline design, shiny and new save that one fender was slightly battered.
“Why, it’s Walter Crocker’s automobile!” Penny thought in amazement. “How did it get here?”
CHAPTER VIII
The Toy Lantern Clue
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 exa
mined 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!”
CHAPTER IX
Herman Crocker’s Visit
“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.”
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