"You must have said something to him," Penny insisted. "When he went out he looked actually frightened. His face was as white as if he'd seen a ghost."

"I don't know what made Max change his mind about wanting to talk with me," the detective said, frowning thoughtfully. "He seemed to be startled when he saw that statue of yours."

"The Black Imp?" Penny asked in surprise.

"Yes, he took one look at it and started off without a word of explanation."

Curiously, the detective picked up the figure and carefully examined it.

"I can't see anything wrong with it," he admitted. "You say this statue came from Hanley Cron's studio?"

"Yes, he was angry when Amy tried to take it away from him. Then the policeman came in and he seemed afraid to protest."

The detective made no reply. He sat lost in thought for a moment, then arose.

"Well, I guess I'll amble over to the police station."

"Then I may as well be going home," Penny said. She picked up the Black Imp from the desk and carefully wrapped it.

"I'll take you in the car if you like."

"No, I'll walk," Penny replied. "I've been gaining weight lately and need the exercise."

Mr. Nichols smiled, for Penny barely tipped the scales at a hundred pounds. They left the building together and separated.

"I should be home early for dinner tonight unless something unforeseen comes up," Mr. Nichols mentioned in parting.

Penny found Mrs. Gallup ironing in the kitchen. She paused to display the Black Imp, but the housekeeper was not greatly impressed.

"And you call that a work of art!" she scoffed. "It's just an old lump of clay."

"This is only a copy of Amy Coulter's fine piece, Mrs. Gallup. Not a very good copy either. But don't you think the design is clever?"

"I can't say I do. That Imp has such a sinister look on his face--as if he were guarding a wicked secret!"

"Now that's an idea!" Penny laughed. "Maybe he is. At least he frightened a crook out of Dad's office this afternoon."

"What was that?" Mrs. Gallup demanded quickly.

Penny did not repeat for she had no desire to alarm the housekeeper.

After all she could not be certain that the Black Imp had been the cause of Max Lynch's sudden leave taking.

"Oh, I was just talking," she murmured, and departed before Mrs. Gallup could question her further.

Penny took the little statue to her room, and after trying it in several locations, decided that it looked best on the maple desk. She then sat down to write a few lines in her diary, but whenever she glanced up the Black Imp seemed to be staring down at her with an inquiring scrutiny.

"You are a wicked little beast!" Penny chuckled. "Are you trying to learn what I'm writing about the jewelry theft?"

She turned the Black Imp so that he faced the wall and finished the notation in her diary.

It was a few minutes after five when Penny heard the front door bell ring. Thinking that one of her school chums had come to call, she darted down the stairs to answer. The visitor was Mrs. Dillon.

"Why, how do you do," Penny stammered. "Won't you come in?"

She wondered what had brought the woman to the house at such a late hour of the afternoon. A conviction dawned upon her that Mrs. Dillon had learned of the hoax she and Amy had perpetrated in order to see the Rembrandt. She steeled herself for an unpleasant interview.

"Is your father here?" Mrs. Dillon inquired.

"No, Mrs. Dillon. He hasn't returned from the office."

"It's very important that I see him--about my stolen necklace, you know."

A feeling of relief surged over Penny. "Father should be arriving any moment now. Would you care to wait?"

"Yes, I believe I will."

Mrs. Dillon sank wearily into the chair which the girl offered. "I've had such a dreadful day. My beautiful necklace was stolen and the police haven't been able to find a trace of the thief. But then, you know all about it, for you were there."

"Perhaps the pearls will still be recovered," Penny said politely.

"That's what Mr. Cron tells me. He says it's foolish of me to worry.

The police are certain to find them within a few days."

"Your loss was covered by insurance?" Penny inquired innocently.

"Oh, no! That's the dreadful part."

Penny looked sharply at Mrs. Dillon. The woman seemed so earnest that it was difficult to believe she was deliberately telling a falsehood.

Yet the incident of the painting already had given the girl a clue as to Mrs. Dillon's character. If the woman knowingly would purchase a stolen picture was it not reasonable to suppose that she would feel no qualms at cheating an insurance company?

In the hope of gaining a little information, Penny casually brought up the subject of the Rembrandt, but Mrs. Dillon immediately became secretive. She would not talk of the picture even in a general way.

"I'll never learn anything except by making a direct accusation," Penny thought. "I don't dare do that--yet."

She was relieved when her father came a few minutes later.

"I'm sorry to bother you at your home," Mrs. Dillon began nervously, "but I had to see you at once. My pearl necklace was stolen this afternoon."

"Yes, so I heard," Mr. Nichols replied.

"I want you to take the case. You must help me recover my pearls."

"I am afraid I can't take the case, Mrs. Dillon."

"But why not? You've helped others. Everyone says you are the best detective in the city. And I'll pay you well."

"It isn't a matter of money, Mrs. Dillon. To tell you the truth, the Reliance Insurance Company also requested me to work on the case."