CHAPTER XVII

"Private--Keep Out"

Penny's cry of alarm brought Mrs. Gallup hurrying up the stairs.

"What is the matter?" the housekeeper asked anxiously.

"The Black Imp is gone!" Penny exclaimed. "Did you do anything with it?"

"Why, no. It was on the desk the last time I saw it."

"It isn't there now. Someone has stolen it!"

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Gallup said impatiently. "Who would want that little statue? If a thief entered the house he would take things of greater value than that. You must have put it in a different place and forgotten about it."

"Oh, but I didn't, Mrs. Gallup. The Imp was on the desk this morning when I left the house."

"Well, I've not seen it." The housekeeper began to open bureau drawers, for despite Penny's words she was not entirely convinced that the girl had left the statue on the desk. Penny often misplaced cherished possessions only to spend an unhappy hour trying to recall where she had deposited them.

"It's no use to search, Mrs. Gallup," she wailed disconsolately. "The Black Imp is gone and will never be found."

"But no one has been in the house all day."

"The window is open," Penny observed. "I know I closed it this morning before I left the house."

The bedroom overlooked a porch against which stood a st.u.r.dy rose trellis. It would be a simple matter for a thief to reach the window by means of it. Once when Penny had found herself locked out of the house she had tested the trellis and discovered that it made an excellent ladder.

"I did go away for an hour this afternoon," Mrs. Gallup admitted. "I went to the grocery store."

"That would be long enough for a thief to enter the house."

"But I'm sure nothing else is missing," Mrs. Gallup maintained. "It doesn't seem reasonable that anyone would steal a little statue--an unfinished one at that."

Mr. Nichols had entered the house by the rear door. He called from below:

"Anyone home?"

"We're upstairs," Penny shouted down. "A thief has been in the house!"

The detective joined the two in the bedroom. "What's all the excitement?" he demanded.

"The Black Imp has been stolen!" Penny informed.

"It seems to be missing," Mrs. Gallup corrected, "but I can't believe anyone would want that lump of clay."

Mr. Nichols did not reply as he surveyed the room. Nothing appeared to be out of place. He noted the open window instantly and crossed over to it.

"The thief entered here," he said.

"That was what I was trying to tell Mrs. Gallup," Penny cried triumphantly.

The detective picked up something from the window ledge. It was a strand of gray wool which had caught on a rough board.

He then stepped out on the top of the porch and crossed over to the place where the rose trellis projected.

"Be careful," Mrs. Gallup warned anxiously as she saw that the detective intended to climb down the fragile wooden framework.

"The trellis is strong enough to hold a man much heavier than myself,"

Mr. Nichols replied. "And I see the thief came this way too!"

"How can you tell?" Penny questioned eagerly.

"The rose bush has been broken off in several places."

Mrs. Gallup was somewhat disconcerted by the discovery. Fearing that other things besides the Black Imp might have been stolen she hastened downstairs to make a thorough search. Penny joined her father outside the house.

"What do you make of it, Dad?" she inquired. "Why did the thief break in?"

"Obviously for the Black Imp."

"But who would be interested in it and for what reason?"

"I can't answer that one, Penny. But I'm wondering if this theft could have anything to do with Max Lynch's visit to my office."

"He appeared frightened when he saw the Imp on your desk!" Penny recalled.

"Yes, he turned and fled without revealing his mission."

"And directly after that your office was ransacked."

"Yes, but that may or may not have had any connection."

"Then I noticed a man prowling about the house," Penny continued. "He must have been the one who stole the Imp!"

"You weren't able to furnish a very good description of the man."

"No, I caught only a fleeting glimpse of his face."

"It wasn't Max Lynch?"

"I'm sure it wasn't, Dad. I'd have recognized him instantly, for his appearance is distinctive."

Mr. Nichols bent down to examine a footprint in the soft earth beneath the rose trellis. He measured it with his hand.

"The thief must wear about a size eleven shoe," he mentioned, "and a gray suit of excellent quality. Other than that, I'm afraid we have no clues."

"Why should anyone want my copy of the Black Imp?" Penny repeated in a bewildered tone. "Dad, you don't suppose Hanley Cron considered it his property and dared to take it?"