"I meant that our landlord's queer personality fascinates me. He's always doing such strange things."

"Let me see," Mr. Nichols said jokingly. "How many queer characters have you discovered since we came here?"

"Only three, Dad. Mrs. Masterbrook, Michael and old Herman. Unless you count Walter Crocker and Mr. Madden."

"How about the postman? I noticed you were talking with him yesterday."

"Purely upon a matter of business," Penny laughed. "His name isn't down on my list of suspects yet."

She said no more for just then Michael Haymond came up the path with an armful of wood.

After carrying it to the kitchen he returned to the porch. Mr. Nichols motioned him into a rocker.

"I'm afraid I'm not doing very much to earn my wages," the young man said apologetically. "My chief occupation around here seems to be eating and sitting."

"I'm well satisfied," replied the detective.

Although Penny had thought that her father was unwise to hire Michael she liked the young man a great deal. He was quiet, una.s.suming, and did his tasks willingly. Whenever he had a spare moment he usually spent it with a book. Penny had read the t.i.tles with surprise.

Michael devoted himself to volumes of philosophy and history and he studied textbooks of mathematics and French.

"Rather deep stuff," Mr. Nichols had commented, looking at one of the philosophy volumes.

"I never had a chance to attend college, sir," Michael had replied, flushing. "I'm trying to educate myself a little."

During the afternoon both Mr. Nichols and Michael absented themselves from the cottage. Mrs. Masterbrook decided that she would walk down to the village. Penny was delighted to be left alone in the house.

The moment that everyone was gone she hastened to the attic. It was a low-ceiling room, dimly lighted by two gable windows. Dust and cobwebs were everywhere.

The attic contained an old chest of drawers, the footboards of a bed, two trunks, a chair with a broken leg, and several boxes of dishes.

As Penny's gaze roved over the objects she observed that a faint scratch on the floor showed where the trunks had been recently moved.

Some of the dust had been brushed off from the lids.

"Herman must have been looking at the trunks," the girl thought. "I wonder what he expected to find?"

She lifted the lid of the nearest one and was pleased that it was unlocked. There was nothing in the top tray but beneath it she found old fashioned clothing which had belonged to a woman. The garments had been very carefully packed in moth b.a.l.l.s.

Penny opened the second trunk. It too was filled with clothing in a style worn some fifteen years before. In the bottom she came upon an old picture alb.u.m and a packet of letters. All were addressed to Herman Crocker and appeared to be of a business nature.

Penny was tempted to read the letters, but she put aside the thought.

After all it was not very honorable of her to pry into Mr. Crocker's personal affairs without a stronger motive than curiosity.

"If there is any occasion for learning more about the man, I can read the letters later," Penny reflected. "Dad would be ashamed of me if he knew what I was doing."

She replaced the packet in the trunk and closed down the lid. Then after making certain that the chest of drawers contained nothing of interest, she hastened down stairs again and washed the grime from her hands.

Later in the afternoon Mrs. Masterbrook came back from Kendon and it seemed to Penny that she was more subdued than usual. Even Mr. Nichols noticed a change in the woman.

"I wonder what is the matter with her?" he remarked. "She seems to be losing her fire!"

"I guess she's just tired from the long walk to town," Penny replied.

However, she watched Mrs. Masterbrook closely, and was inclined to agree that something had gone amiss. The housekeeper looked worried.

"Aren't you feeling well, Mrs. Masterbrook?" she inquired kindly.

"Of course I'm feeling well," the woman snapped.

After supper that night Michael Haymond left the house, but Penny did not know whether or not he went to call upon Herman Crocker. She went to bed about ten, and heard the young man return to the cottage shortly after that hour. By eleven o'clock everyone had gone to bed.

Penny went off to sleep soon after her head touched the pillow. It was hours later that she awoke to hear the kitchen clock chiming three o'clock.

In the hallway a board creaked.

Penny sat up and listened. She was certain that someone was tiptoeing down the hall. For a moment she was frightened. Then she crept out of bed and flung open the door.

At the end of the hall she saw the figure of a man. He fled before she could speak or make an outcry. Penny heard the outside door slam shut.

She hurried to a window and was in time to see someone running swiftly toward the woods.

"Dad!" she screamed excitedly. "Wake up! Wake up!" And to emphasize her words, Penny ran to her father's bedroom and pounded on the door with her clenched fist.

CHAPTER XI

Aid from Michael

"What's the matter, Penny?" cried Mr. Nichols as he opened the door of his room. "Are you having nightmares?"

"Dad, someone broke into the cottage!" she told him tensely. "When I stepped out into the hall he ran away. I saw him disappear into the woods."

By this time the detective was thoroughly awake.

"Are you sure, Penny?"

"Of course I am! I didn't imagine it this time and it wasn't someone after a drink either!"

"Let me get dressed," said her father. "Then I'll look around."

Penny ran back to her own room. She was amazed that Mrs. Masterbrook and Michael had not been aroused. In the next room she could hear the housekeeper snoring contentedly. There seemed no reason to awaken her.

Penny quickly dressed and was ready first.

"We'll take a look around the place," Mr. Nichols said, "but it's probably too late to catch the prowler."

"Yes, he'll be a long way from here by this time," Penny agreed.

Armed with a flashlight, they slipped outside and after making a tour of the house walked as far as the edge of the timber. They found no one.