"I wouldn't touch anything if I were you," advised Penny. "Fingerprints."

The maid dropped the case. "Oh!" she gasped. "I never thought of that! Do you think the police will blame me for the robbery?"

"Not if you tell them the truth. It surely will be unwise to try to hide anything."

"I won't hold anything back," the maid promised. "It happened just like I said. After Mr. and Mrs. Kohl left I went to a picture show."

"Alone?"

"With my girl friend. After the show we had a soda together, and then she went home."

"What time did you get here?"

"Only a minute or two before I called for help. I tried the telephone first."

"Why didn't you summon the janitor?"

"I never thought of that. I was so excited I ran outside hoping to find a policeman."

Penny nodded and, returning to the living room, satisfied herself that the telephone wires actually had been cut.

"You didn't notice anyone in the halls as you went downstairs."

"No one. Old Mr. Veely was on the lower floor when I came from the show, but he's lived here for seven years. I don't see how the burglar got into the apartment."

"I was wondering about that myself. You're quite sure you locked the suite door?"

"Oh, yes, I know I did," the maid said emphatically. "And it isn't possible to get into the building without a key. Otherwise, the janitor must be called."

Penny walked thoughtfully to the living room window. The apartment stood fully thirty-five feet from a neighboring building, with the s.p.a.ce between much too wide to be spanned. Below, the alley was deserted, and no fire escape ascended from it.

"The burglar couldn't have entered that way," declared the maid. "He must have had his own key."

Before Penny could respond, a sharp knock sounded on the door. The servant girl turned to open it. However, instead of the antic.i.p.ated police, the apartment janitor, George Bailey, peered into the disordered room.

"I heard someone scream a minute or so ago," he said. "Some of the tenants thought it came from this apartment. Maybe they were mistaken."

"There's no mistake," spoke Penny from across the room. "The Kohls have been robbed. Will you please come inside and close the door?"

"Robbed! You don't say!" The janitor stared with alarmed interest. "When did it happen?"

Penny allowed the maid to tell what had occurred, adding no information of her own. When there came a lull in the excited flow of words, she said quietly:

"Mr. Bailey, do you mind answering a few questions?"

"Why should I?" the janitor countered. "I'll tell you right now I know nothing about this. I've attended strictly to my duties. It's not my lookout if tenants leave their suite doors unlocked."

"No one is blaming you," Penny a.s.sured him. "I merely thought you might contribute to a solution of the burglary."

"I don't know a thing about it."

"You didn't let anyone into the apartment building tonight?"

"Not a soul. I locked the service door at six o'clock, too. Now let me ask this: Who are you, and how did you get in here?"

"That's fair enough," smiled Penny. She told her name, explained that she was an acquaintance of the Kohls, and had been summoned by the maid.

"Please don't think that I am trying to play detective," she added. "I ask these questions in the hope of gaining information for my father's paper, the _Star_."

"Well, it looks to me as if it was an inside job," the janitor replied, mollified. "Come to think of it though, I've seen a suspicious-acting fellow hanging around the building."

"You mean tonight?"

"No, several days ago. He stayed on the other side of the street and kept watching the doorway."

"What did he look like, Mr. Bailey?"

"Oh, I don't remember. He was just an average young man in a gray overcoat and hat."

"Gray?" repeated Penny alertly.

"It may have been light blue. I didn't pay much attention. At the time I sized up the fellow as a detective."

Penny had no opportunity to ask additional questions for just then voices were heard in the hallway. As she opened the door, Jerry Livingston, followed by a policeman, came toward her.

"Learn anything?" the reporter asked softly in her ear.

"A little," answered Penny. "Let's see how much the officer turns up before I go into my song and dance."

Making a routine inspection of the rooms, the police questioned both the maid and the janitor. From an elderly lady who occupied the adjoining suite he gleaned information that the Kohls' telephone had rung steadily for fifteen minutes during the early evening hours.

"What time was that?" interposed Penny.

The policeman gazed at her with sharp disapproval. "Please," he requested with exaggerated politeness.

"Sorry," apologized Penny, fading into the background.

"It rang about eight o'clock," the old lady revealed.

"The information is not significant," said the officer, glancing again at Penny.

She started to speak, then bit her lip, remaining silent.

"Well, sister, what's on your mind?" he demanded abruptly.

"Excuse me, officer, but I think the information does have importance.

Couldn't it mean that the crooks, whoever they were, telephoned the apartment to make certain it was deserted before breaking in?"

"Possibly," conceded the policeman. His frown discouraged her. "Any other theories?"