"Is that so? Well, you've come to the wrong place. We are filled up."

Penny was aware that the janitor regarded her suspiciously. She did not believe that he was speaking the truth for she had noticed many apparently unoccupied rooms in the building.

"But you may have vacancies in the future, I suppose," she commented.

"You see, I like the outlook a person would get from your top floor."

"That top floor is rented."

"Could you tell me the name of the party----?"

"No, I couldn't," the janitor interrupted irritably. "Run along now.

I'm not interested in your chatter."

"All right, I'll go," Penny replied, "but you may hear from me again.

And when I return, I'll bring a mate to that five dollar bill you just slipped into your pocket!"

Before the man had recovered from his surprise she turned and walked briskly down the street in the direction of her father's office. She deeply regretted her last remark for she realized that the janitor might repeat it to the man who occupied the top floor. She had not intended to reveal how much she had seen.

Penny entered her father's office just as he was leaving on a business errand.

"h.e.l.lo, Dad," she called out. "I seem to have caught the bird on the wing."

Mr. Nichols smiled at his young daughter and obligingly hung his hat back on the rack.

"My flight is off now that the fledgling has returned to the nest.

What's on your mind now, Penny?"

"This little ornament, for one thing." Penny unwrapped the model of the Black Imp which Amy Coulter had given her and set it down on her father's desk. "Doesn't he look kind of lonesome and, well--mysterious?"

"He does at that," Mr. Nichols said as he picked up the little art piece and turned it over and over. "I should say the fellow has a wicked glint to his eye."

"Be careful how you handle him," Penny warned. "The clay is still damp."

Mr. Nichols placed the figure back on the desk. "It's a very clever design. I don't suppose this is that Black Imp you were telling me about?"

"It's a copy of the original."

"How did you get it?"

"I guess you might say I swiped it," Penny smiled, "or rather, Amy and I did together."

"You don't make yourself very clear."

Penny related her experience in Hanley Cron's studio, but at mention of the jewelry theft, Mr. Nichols lost all interest in the Black Imp. He insisted upon hearing every detail of the theft.

"It doesn't surprise me a bit," he declared when Penny finished the story. "I warned Mrs. Dillon that necklace would be stolen if she didn't get it locked up."

"She lost it on the way to the bank, Dad. Perhaps she thinks now that if she hadn't attempted to follow your advice, the pearls would still be safe."

"Nonsense!" Mr. Nichols exclaimed impatiently. "That necklace was stolen by someone who was lying in wait for her. Possibly by one of the same thieves who attempted to hold up the Dillon ball the other evening."

"Mrs. Dillon did make a grave mistake to carry the pearls unguarded,"

Penny admitted. "But it seems to me the thief must have been someone who was in the house after the holdup."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because otherwise how would the thief have known that Mrs. Dillon intended to take her necklace to the bank today? You remember she spoke of the matter openly before her guests."

"I remember," Mr. Nichols smiled.

"And Mrs. Dillon made an appointment to meet Hanley Cron at his studio before she went to the bank. The thief apparently was waiting for her in front of the building. It was no casual s.n.a.t.c.h. I'm sure of that."

"Your reasoning is very good," Mr. Nichols praised. "Tell me, who overheard this conversation between Mrs. Dillon and Hanley Cron?"

"Why, I did. There were some other people standing not far away, but I doubt that they heard. At least they did not appear to be listening."

"So you're the only person who knew of the appointment," Mr. Nichols said jokingly.

"Don't look at me like that," Penny laughed. "I swear I didn't take the necklace even if I was on the scene."

"I'll not turn you over to the police without more evidence," the detective promised. "I was just on my way to the station when you dropped in."

"I didn't mean to detain you."

"The matter was of no great importance. I merely wanted to inquire if the police had made any progress tracing the Dillon holdup men. It's queer how they made such a neat get-away."

"I don't think the police are very alert," Penny grumbled. "After Mrs.

Dillon's handbag was s.n.a.t.c.hed they were on the scene within ten minutes, but I imagine the thief will never be captured."

"You expect results too quickly, Penny," her father smiled. "From what you've told me I imagine this purse-s.n.a.t.c.her is a member of an organized gang. The theft was no casual affair. Every detail was carefully planned."

"I wish you were on the case, Dad."

"I don't. I have enough troubles without wishing more upon myself. I really am not----"

He broke off as the telephone rang. "h.e.l.lo," he said gruffly into the transmitter, then his face became sober as he silently listened. "Drop into my office tomorrow at nine," he terminated the conversation.

"I'll give you my decision then."

"You sound like one of the judges of the Supreme Court," Penny chuckled as her father hung up the receiver. "What's this momentous decision you're to hand down?"

Mr. Nichols sat drumming his fingers against the edge of the desk.

"That was the Reliance Insurance Company. They want me to take the Dillon case."

"You don't mean in regard to Mrs. Dillon's lost necklace?"

"Yes, that's it."