"A wise reporter never ties his own hands," replied Mr. Parker. "If he promises, and then obtains the same story from another source, he's morally bound not to use it. His paper may be scooped by the opposition."

"You two are a pair," sighed Mrs. Weems. "Scoops and front page stories are all either of you think about. I declare, it distresses me to realize how Penny may be trained after I leave."

"The way to solve that problem is not to leave," said Penny. "You know we can't get along without you."

Mrs. Weems shook her head.

"It cuts me almost in two to leave," she declared sadly, "but my mind's made up. Mrs. Hodges says I am doing the right thing."

"And I suppose a ghost advised her," muttered Penny.

Mr. Parker glanced sternly at his daughter and she subsided into silence.

But not for long. Soon she was trying to reopen the subject of the mysterious letter received by the Hodges. For a reason she could not understand, her father was loath to discuss it.

"Come, Penny," he said. "If we're having that game of tennis this morning, it's time we start."

En route to the park, the publisher explained why he had not chosen to express an opinion in the housekeeper's presence.

"I quite agree with you that Mrs. Hodges has no psychic powers, Penny.

She's been the victim of a hoax. However, Mrs. Weems is intensely loyal to her friend, and any disparaging remarks made by us will only serve to antagonize her."

"I'll try to be more careful, Dad. But it's so silly!"

Monday morning found Penny busy once more with her duties at the society desk. No new information had developed regarding the Kohl burglary, and she did not have time to accompany Mrs. Weems who went frequently to the Hodges' cottage.

Secretly Penny held an opinion that the housekeeper's inheritance might be the work of a prankster. Therefore, upon returning from the office one afternoon and learning that the money actually had been delivered, she was very glad she had kept her thoughts to herself.

"The lawyer came this morning and had me sign a paper," Mrs. Weems revealed to the Parkers. "Then he turned the money over to me--six thousand dollars."

"I hope the cheque is good," remarked Penny.

"It was. I had the lawyer accompany me to the bank. They gave me the money without asking a single question. I have it here."

"You have six thousand dollars cash in the house!"

"Yes, I had the cashier give it to me in hundred dollar bills."

"Do you consider it safe to keep such a large sum?" Mr. Parker inquired mildly. "I should advise returning it to the bank, or better still, why not invest it in sound securities?"

Mrs. Weems shook her head. "It gives me a nice rich feeling to have the cash. I've hidden it in a good place."

"Where?" demanded Penny.

"I won't tell," laughed Mrs. Weems.

Again later in the evening, Mr. Parker tried without success to convince the housekeeper that she should return the money to a bank. Never one to force his opinions upon another, he then dropped the subject.

"When will you be leaving us, Mrs. Weems?" he inquired.

"Whenever you can spare me. Now that I have the money, I should like to leave within ten days or two weeks."

"Since we can't persuade you to remain, I'll try to find someone to take your place," Mr. Parker promised.

Both he and Penny were gloomy at the prospect of replacing the housekeeper. Not only would they miss Mrs. Weems but they honestly believed that she would never be happy without two incorrigibles and a home to manage.

"Dad," Penny ventured when they were alone, "just supposing that Mrs.

Weems' money should mysteriously disappear--"

"Don't allow your mind to dwell on that idea," cut in her father sternly.

"We'll play fair."

"Oh, I wouldn't do it," said Penny hastily. "I was only joking. But if something _should_ happen to the money, it would solve all our problems."

"Mrs. Weems has earned her vacation. Even though it will be hard to lose her, we mustn't stand in her way."

"I guess you're right," sighed Penny.

The following day Miss Hilderman resumed her duties at the _Star_, and Penny once more found herself a person of leisure. To her annoyance, Mrs.

Weems insisted that she spend many hours in the kitchen, learning how to bake pies and cakes. A particularly distasteful lesson came to an end only when Penny, with brilliant inspiration, remembered that the housekeeper had an appointment with the seamstress.

"Dear me, I had forgotten it!" exclaimed Mrs. Weems. "Yes, I must try on my new dresses!"

"I'll drive you over," offered Penny.

Not in recent days had the girl called upon the Hodges. As she and Mrs.

Weems alighted from the car, they both noticed freshly ironed curtains at the windows. Mr. Hodges was pounding dust from a carpet on the line.

"Housecleaning?" inquired Penny, pausing to chat with the old man.

"Yes, Jenny's got me hard at it," he grinned. "She's been tearin' the house upside down gettin' ready for the new roomer."

"Oh, have you taken one?"

Penny was surprised, knowing that in past years the Hodges had been too proud to rent rooms.

"There's a young feller moving in today," Mr. Hodges said, picking up the carpet beater. "Go on inside. Jenny'll tell you about it."

Penny and Mrs. Weems entered the cottage where the seamstress was running a dust mop over the floors. She was somewhat dismayed to see the housekeeper.

"Oh, Maud, I've been so busy I didn't get your dresses ready to be tried on."

"It doesn't matter," replied Mrs. Weems. "What's this about a new roomer?"

"I always said I wouldn't have one cluttering up the place. But this young man is different. His coming here--well, I interpret it as another sign."

"A sign of what?" inquired Penny with her usual directness.

"Well, it seemed as if I had a direct message from the spirit world to take him into our home. He came here last night. Instead of knocking in the usual way, he rapped six times in succession!"