"May I ask what you are doing in my apartment?" a cold, masculine voice demanded.

Penny whirled around to face Hanley Cron. He had entered the studio from an adjoining kitchenette.

"Oh, Mr. Cron, did you see him in here?" she gasped.

"Did I see whom?" the man asked with provoking calmness.

"A thief just entered your studio by means of the fire escape," Penny informed. "I saw him come in here."

Hanley Cron shook his head and a slight sneer played over his lips.

"No one has been in my studio during the past hour except yourself."

"But I'm positive I saw him. He entered through the open window."

"I've been in the studio all the time. As you see, the outside door is locked. The man couldn't have escaped."

Penny was baffled. Although several other windows opened off the fire escape, it was difficult to make herself believe that she had been mistaken. However, a careful glance about the room a.s.sured her that the thief was not hiding there.

"Will you leave?" Cron asked impatiently. "Your story about a thief running up the fire escape doesn't ring true. You probably used it as an excuse to get in here and spy!"

"You'll soon learn that it's the truth," Penny exclaimed with rising anger. "Just wait until your friend Mrs. Dillon arrives."

"What has she to do with it?"

"Her pearls were stolen. And it was partly your fault too, Mr. Cron, because you invited her to call at your studio on the way to the bank!

You must have known she ran a great risk in carrying that necklace unguarded."

"Are you meaning to imply--?"

"I'm not hinting anything," Penny returned shortly. She was provoked at herself for wasting to much time in idle talk. It had given the thief an opportunity to escape from the building.

She turned to go, but just then her attention was drawn to a small statue upon which Cron evidently had been working. His smock was splattered with wet clay and the little figure which rested on a nearby pedestal had not yet fully dried.

As the girl's gaze wandered to the statue, Cron became slightly confused. Picking up a dark cloth from the floor he covered the ma.s.s of clay, endeavoring to make the action appear casual.

Penny was not to be deceived. She instantly divined that the art critic did not wish her to see his work. But she had caught a glimpse of the statue. She had seen enough to know that Hanley Cron was making a copy of the Black Imp--Amy Coulter's entry in the Huddleson prize contest!

CHAPTER X

Hanley Cron's Studio

Penny wondered why Hanley Cron should wish to duplicate the Black Imp.

He had not thought highly enough of it even to award Amy honorable mention in the Huddleson contest.

She had no time to consider the matter, for her chief thought was to capture the jewel thief before he escaped from the building. Already she feared that she had lost him.

"Why do you keep your studio door locked from the inside?" she demanded, turning the key to open it.

"Because I don't care to be interrupted while I am working," Cron retorted significantly. "As a rule, visitors don't have the effrontery to come in the windows!"

Penny did not reply to the gibe. She opened the door just as Amy came running up the corridor, holding something in her hand. She stopped short when she saw Hanley Cron.

"Amy Coulter, I believe," he said sharply. "Wanted by the police."

"I've done nothing wrong," the girl retorted.

"You are under suspicion for the theft of a valuable painting from the Gage Galleries."

"I don't know anything about the picture."

"The charge is silly," Penny added.

"You seem to have an unlucky faculty of being present whenever valuables are stolen," Cron commented coldly. "Isn't that Mrs.

Dillon's bag you have in your hand?"

"Yes, it is. I picked it up by the elevator. It was lying on the floor."

"The thief must have dropped it," Penny declared. "Are the pearls gone?"

"I haven't even looked yet," Amy admitted.

She offered the beaded bag to Penny who promptly turned it inside out.

Save for a compact and a handkerchief the purse was empty.

"The pearls are missing all right," Cron commented, looking half-accusingly at Amy.

"Don't you dare suggest I had anything to do with it!" the girl cried furiously. "Mrs. Dillon will tell you that Penny and I were only trying to help!"

"I don't know anything about the pearls," Cron replied cuttingly, "but I intend to turn you over to the police for questioning in regard to the stolen painting."

Penny turned blazing eyes upon the art critic.

"Before you do that, Mr. Cron, you might explain to Miss Coulter why you are copying her statue!"

Darting across the room, she s.n.a.t.c.hed off the cloth which covered the sculptor's work.

"Why, it's my Black Imp!" Amy cried in surprise. "You've reproduced it in every detail!"

Hanley Cron was taken aback at the unexpected exposure, but he quickly regained his usual nonchalance.

"I rather liked the figure," he said inadequately. "That was why I copied it. I had no other reason."

"You didn't like the Black Imp well enough to award it a prize," Amy cried indignantly. "You have a very good reason for reproducing the statue--perhaps you intend to put it to commercial use!"

"You flatter yourself, Miss Coulter. The statue has no value commercially or otherwise."