CHAPTER XV

A Puzzling Letter

Rounding the corner at the end of the street, Penny paused to catch her breath. It had been foolish to run away. She realized that now. But she had acted impulsively, without thinking.

She thought hopefully that Hanley Cron might not have recognized her.

She was certain he had not seen her face.

Penny walked slowly home. She was as bewildered as ever regarding the ident.i.ty of the mysterious agent who had sold Mrs. Dillon the Rembrandt. It might have been the first caller--or perhaps Hanley Cron.

Yet Penny smiled as she considered the latter possibility. Cron held an enviable position with a newspaper, he was highly respected in art circles, and besides, was a special friend of Mrs. Dillon. It seemed far more likely that he had merely dropped in to pay a casual afternoon call.

Penny wondered if she had acted wisely in talking so frankly with the society woman. Mrs. Dillon, fearful of arrest, had agreed to communicate with the museum authorities, but would she keep her promise? Penny could only wait and hope that she had acted for the best.

It was nearing the dinner hour when she reached home. Mr. Nichols, whose hobby was gardening, rested on his hoe as his daughter came up the stepping stone path. She thought he looked worried and spoke of it.

"I am worried," the detective confessed. "Some confounded new fangled bug is eating up all my choice aster plants. Just look at this one.

Riddled with holes as if it had been peppered with a machine gun!"

Penny laughed as she bent down to pick a bouquet of flowers for the dinner table.

"You ought to be able to solve a simple case like that," she teased.

"I've already sprayed the plants with everything I can think of. It's disgusting!"

Penny was not especially interested in insects, and began to question her father about the office robbery.

"Nothing valuable was stolen so far as Miss Arrow and I could determine," he informed. "The office was pretty thoroughly torn up, but apparently the thief didn't get the thing he was after."

"Have you any idea what that was, Dad?"

"Not the slightest. Papers of some sort, I suppose."

"Did you find any leading clues?"

"Nothing of consequence. The fingerprints were worthless for the thief wore gloves. Would you like to have the case, Penny?"

"No thanks. I've involved myself in enough trouble as it is. You may not like what I've done, Dad."

"And just what have you done?" the detective asked with twinkling eyes.

Penny gave a detailed account of her interview with Mrs. Dillon. Mr.

Nichols frowned thoughtfully, but did not chide her.

"You made a bold attack, Penny," he commented, "but perhaps no harm has been done. However, after this I must ask you not to do anything about the matter without consulting me. You see, I've taken the jewel theft case for the Insurance Company and I can't afford to antagonize Mrs.

Dillon until I learn whether she is involved in a plot to obtain fifteen thousand dollars under false pretenses."

"You and Mrs. Dillon didn't part upon such friendly terms the last time you met," Penny reminded him with a smile.

"No, that's true."

"By the way, Dad, Mrs. Dillon requested me to offer you her apology.

It seems she has just learned that her husband did insure the pearl necklace with the Reliance Company. He neglected to tell her about it."

"Oh, I see," Mr. Nichols commented dryly. "Well, I'll talk with her tomorrow."

Penny had finished picking the bouquet of flowers and was walking toward the house, when the detective called her back.

"Just a minute. I learned something today which may interest you."

Penny halted, waiting expectantly.

"It's about that new friend of yours."

"Amy Coulter?" Penny inquired eagerly.

"Yes, the police have traced her to that new rooming house where you tell me she's staying. She'll probably be arrested sometime tonight."

"Oh, Dad! Amy has done nothing wrong. Why can't the police leave her alone?"

"It strikes me they are making a mistake in this case."

"Of course they are. Oh, Dad, can't I warn Amy?"

"It's probably too late now."

"Perhaps not. Let me try at least."

Mr. Nichols had antic.i.p.ated such a request. He did not believe in a.s.sisting a fugitive from justice, yet unknown to Penny he had investigated Amy Coulter, and was inclined to feel that she was innocent of the charge against her.

"All right, if you like," he a.s.sented. "But if you see that the house is watched, have the good sense not to go in."

"I'll be careful," Penny promised. "Tell Mrs. Gallup not to wait dinner for me."

Mr. Nichols opened the garage doors for her and closed them again after she had backed the car to the street.

Penny parked a half block from Amy Coulter's rooming house. She walked slowly past the place, carefully glancing about. No one was in sight and she doubted that the building was being watched.

Entering, she ran up the stairway to her friend's room, rapping sharply on the door.

"Who is there?" Amy asked.

"It's I--Penny. Let me in."

Instantly the door was flung open. "I was afraid it might be the police," Amy confessed, laughing nervously.