"Let's read the other letters," Susan suggested. "We may learn something from them."

The remaining communications were of no help at all. They were merely friendly letters written by Jenny to her brother telling him how much she and her son were enjoying their stay at the Lakes. She spoke at some length of her declining health and in one paragraph mentioned that if anything ever happened to her she trusted Herman would take good care of Walter.

"After receiving a letter like that how could the old man be mean enough to act the way he did?" Susan asked angrily. "It serves him right to lose the fortune! I'm glad that Walter finally learned the truth."

"So am I," Penny agreed. "Only it's too bad the young man couldn't have turned out to be a nicer type."

"He may not have had the advantage of a good home."

"I realize that, but aside from breeding, I don't like him."

"The point is--what shall we do with these letters?"

"Oh, I guess I'll have to give them back," Penny sighed. "I'll do it sometime before Thursday night."

She retied the letters and slipped them into her pocket. Before the girls could leave the ravine, they heard someone coming through the woods.

A moment later Michael Haymond appeared along the path. He was whistling a tune but broke off as he noticed Penny and Susan.

"h.e.l.lo," he said pleasantly. "It's another warm day, isn't it?"

Penny and Susan had been too busy to notice the weather, but they agreed that it was unpleasantly humid. Michael paused to chat for a minute or two, and took out a handkerchief to wipe his forehead.

"Have you been cutting more wood?" Penny asked with a smile.

"Yes, I didn't know what else to do."

"We have enough wood to last longer than we'll remain at the cottage,"

Penny said. "Why don't you try resting now and then?"

"I'm not paid to do that."

"You more than earn your salary," Penny told him. "Dad doesn't care whether you keep busy or not."

"Your father has been very good to me," Michael said soberly. "I don't feel right about it. I think he's keeping me on because he knows I'd have trouble getting any other job."

"Nonsense, Michael."

"I don't feel right about drawing pay for nothing," the young man repeated.

"You let him worry about that," Penny laughed. "Anyway, I suppose we'll be going back to the city soon."

Her words seemed to startle Michael, but after a moment of silence, he nodded.

"Well, I'll be getting on up to the cottage," he said. "Mrs.

Masterbrook probably has a job for me. When she can't think of anything else she has me peel potatoes."

"That's her work, not yours," Penny told him. "You're altogether too easy, Michael."

"Your father said that part of my job was to keep Mrs. Masterbrook quiet," the young man grinned as he turned away. "I've discovered that the best way is to do exactly what she wishes with no argument!"

Michael bowed again to the girls and walked on up the path.

"I like him better every day," Susan declared in an undertone. "I think it's a great joke on you, Penny! When he first came here you thought he might be a questionable character."

Penny did not pay very much heed to her chum's words for she was staring at an object lying on the path.

"Michael dropped his handkerchief," she said.

"So he did," Susan agreed indifferently, turning to look. "We can take it to him."

Penny picked up the handkerchief, noticing as she folded it that the linen was not a very expensive grade. She suspected that Michael did not have very much money to spend upon clothing.

Turning the handkerchief over in her hand, Penny saw that it bore a monogram.

"Why, that's odd!" she murmured aloud.

"Now what have you discovered, little Miss Detective?" Susan asked teasingly.

"Look at the markings on this handkerchief," Penny commanded. "The initials are 'M. G.'"

CHAPTER XVII

A New Clue

"'M. G.'", Susan repeated slowly, staring at the handkerchief. "What's so startling about that?"

"Michael dropped this handkerchief," Penny said significantly.

"And his last name is Haymond!" Susan cried as light dawned upon her.

"Why would he have a handkerchief marked 'M. G.'?"

"Why indeed? The simple answer is that maybe his name isn't Michael Haymond after all!"

"Maybe he happened to pick up some other person's handkerchief."

"He'd not be apt to be using it."

"Once one of yours got into our washing somehow," Susan defended her theory. "Don't you remember I was using it for one of my own until you happened to notice it?"

"That was different," Penny replied. "I'll venture this is Michael's handkerchief all right."

"Oh, you're too suspicious," laughed Susan. "Remember that wild chase we had to Glenhaven just because you thought Michael might be hiding something about his past."

"I'm not sure that it was a wild chase at all," Penny answered soberly.

"If you recall, Michael fitted into Mrs. Havers story quite nicely--everything except his last name. And now the initials of this handkerchief could stand for Michael Gladwin."