"He is a bit queer," the detective admitted with a short laugh.

"Dad, do you suppose----"

"No," interrupted Mr. Nichols, "I don't think he's an escaped crook or anything of the sort. Even if he were, I'd not be interested. This is my vacation."

"Oh, all right," laughed Penny. "I was just thinking aloud."

Mr. Nichols opened the door and they walked toward the car together.

Suddenly Penny halted, staring toward the rumble seat.

"Why, Dad!" she exclaimed. "Walter Crocker has gone!"

CHAPTER II

Helping a Stranger

Christopher Nichols saw for himself that the rumble seat was empty. He looked quickly up and down the village street. Walter Crocker was nowhere to be seen.

"Well, that fellow certainly did a speedy disappearing act," the detective commented. "We weren't inside the real estate office five minutes."

"He might at least have thanked us for the ride," said Penny. "Dad, I suppose you'll say this is silly, but I thought he acted as if he were afraid we'd recognize him."

"What made you think that?"

"In the first place he insisted upon riding in the rumble seat. And he kept pulling his hat down over his eyes."

"I'll agree he did act queerly," the detective admitted. "But he's gone now, so we'll just forget about him."

"Oh, all right," laughed Penny. "I keep forgetting that this is your vacation."

A well dressed gentleman in gray came walking leisurely down the street. He gazed curiously at Penny and her father, and they immediately guessed that he might be the missing Judd Kilkane.

"You weren't looking for me by any chance?" the man asked.

"We are if you're Mr. Kilkane," replied the detective.

"That's my name all right. Come on into the office. I stepped out for a minute to buy an evening paper at the drugstore. Say, you're not Nichols from Belton City?"

"Yes," agreed the detective. "You rented me a cottage."

"Old man Crocker's cottage," the real estate agent said as he opened the office door. "I have the key for you."

"Did I understand you to say we are renting the Crocker cottage?"

questioned Mr. Nichols quickly.

"Yes, it's owned by old Herman Crocker up on k.n.o.b Hill. Do you know him?"

"Oh, I've merely heard his name mentioned," replied the detective carelessly.

"I guess just about everyone has heard tell of Herman," chuckled the real estate man. He sat down at his desk and motioned Penny and her father into near-by chairs. "He's an eccentric character."

"I trust that his cottage is at least habitable," said Mr. Nichols.

Mr. Kilkane looked puzzled. Then his face lighted and he declared heartily: "Oh, you'll find the place to your liking. There's nothing wrong with the cottage. If everything isn't perfectly satisfactory I'll have Herman Crocker fix it right up for you."

"And shall we pay our rent to him?"

"No, I'll take care of that," replied the agent. "Herman said he'd rather not have you coming to the house with the money. As I say, he's something of a recluse."

"We met his nephew this evening."

"His nephew?" asked Mr. Kilkane raising his eyebrows. "That's a new one on me. I didn't know Herman had one. But then, he's close mouthed."

"We gave this fellow a ride in our car," Mr. Nichols said. "Then he went off somewhere. I suppose he's on his way to see his uncle."

"Did you say that Herman Crocker's home is close to our cottage?"

inquired Penny.

"Yes, Miss. They're about a quarter of a mile apart on the k.n.o.b Hill road."

"Will we have many other neighbors?" asked the detective.

"None at all," replied the agent, staring at him. "Oh, you'll find it lonely up on k.n.o.b Hill. But you said in your letter that you wanted a quiet, isolated place----"

"That's right, Mr. Kilkane. I'm not complaining, merely inquiring.

However, it might be wise for us to spend the night at a hotel and pay our first visit to the cottage by daylight."

The real estate agent tapped his pen against the desk and frowned.

"We never had but one hotel here and it went out of business three years ago. I could put you up at my house----"

"No, we don't wish to cause you any trouble," Mr. Nichols said quickly.

"Penny and I will just drive on to the cottage."

"You can't miss the place," declared Mr. Kilkane eagerly. "I'll loan you my lantern too."

"Will we need a lantern?" gasped Penny.

"Well, you might, Miss. The cottage is wired for electricity but sometimes the company is slow about getting it turned on."

Penny and her father exchanged a quick glance but offered no comment.

Mr. Nichols wrote out a check for the rent and in return received the key to the cottage. Mr. Kilkane carried the lantern out to the car for them and told Mr. Nichols how to reach the place.

"Remember now," he said in parting, "if everything isn't right at the cottage, just let me know."

Mr. Nichols drove through the village and turned up a dark, narrow road which led to the summit of k.n.o.b Hill. The highway was densely lined with tall trees whose branches crashed in the wind. Penny and her father could see only a short distance beyond the headlights.