Keenan and that Keenan and Crocker are the same person, it will be a simple matter to establish a claim to the fortune."

"The man of this photograph is the same individual who came to the Home years ago," declared Mrs. Havers. "I will be glad to sign papers to that effect."

"The masquerading Walter Crocker is merely a blackmailer," the detective continued. "Undoubtedly, he knew that he could never establish a court claim to the fortune. But with the letters in his possession, he was able to frighten Herman Crocker into dealing with him privately."

"What finally became of the letters?" inquired Michael.

"Dad has them," said Penny. "And we have other evidence which should help your cause. At Crocker's house we found an account book showing that the old man paid the Glenhaven Home various amounts of money."

"I can't understand why a man would do such a thing," Michael said slowly. "Why did my uncle hate me?"

"Probably he didn't," replied the detective. "You merely stood in Mr.

Crocker's way. Greed leads many a person astray."

"It was queer that for years Herman Crocker fooled everyone in Kendon,"

Penny remarked. "And then someone must have discovered his secret."

"I am puzzled by the anonymous letter," Mr. Nichols admitted, turning to Michael again. "I don't suppose you have it with you?"

"Yes, I do. You may read it if you wish."

Michael took a crumpled envelope from his inside coat pocket and offered it to the detective. Mr. Nichols scanned it briefly.

"The letter was postmarked at Kendon," he said.

"May I see it, Dad?" requested Penny.

He gave the letter to her and she studied it for a moment in silence.

The communication contained no new information. As Michael had said, it merely hinted that he was the true heir to the Crocker fortune, and that he would find evidence to support his claim at the k.n.o.b Hill cottage. Penny was more interested in the handwriting than in the message. It seemed to her that it looked strangely familiar.

"Why, I've seen this writing before!" she exclaimed.

"Do you know who sent the letter?" asked her father quickly.

"I can make a very shrewd guess," replied Penny. "It was our all-wise housekeeper, Mrs. Masterbrook!"

CHAPTER XX

Alias Jay Kline

"It would be in keeping with Mrs. Masterbrook's character to send an anonymous letter," Mr. Nichols agreed quickly.

"I am just sure this is her handwriting," Penny insisted. "I'd not be mistaken for she has made out so many grocery lists."

Mr. Nichols took the letter and put it in his pocket.

"Then Mrs. Masterbrook is the one person who should be able to clear up this tangle," he said. "We'll go to the cottage and question her."

Thanking Mrs. Havers for the aid she had offered, the party left Ferndale and made a swift trip back to Kendon. Unaware that she was under suspicion, Mrs. Masterbrook had retired when Mr. Nichols and the young people arrived. The detective pounded on her door.

"What is it?" called the housekeeper.

"Please come out here a minute," requested Mr. Nichols.

"I am ready for bed. Can't you tell me what you want from there."

"No, I cannot, Mrs. Masterbrook. Come out unless you prefer to tell your story to a policeman."

"A policeman!" echoed the housekeeper with a little shriek. "Oh, my goodness! I'll come right out."

She was dressed in five minutes but did not take time to remove the curlers from her hair.

"Just what is it that you wish?" she asked tartly as she gazed from one person to another. Everyone was watching her soberly.

"Look at this letter," said Mr. Nichols, placing the anonymous communication in her lap.

A flush spread over the housekeeper's face but she threw back her head defiantly.

"Well, what about it?"

"We know that you wrote the letter," said the detective sternly, "so you may as well admit the truth."

Mrs. Masterbrook hesitated, and for a moment Penny thought that she meant to deny the charge. Then the woman said coldly:

"Well, what if I did write it? You can't send me to jail for trying to do a good turn."

"No one has any intention of causing you trouble--providing you tell us everything," replied Mr. Nichols significantly.

"What do you wish to know?"

"First, how did you learn Mr. Crocker's secret?"

"I worked for him a great many years," returned the housekeeper with a slight toss of her head. "Both at this cottage and later when he lived at his present home. Not being stupid, I suspected a fly in the ointment so to speak when he came into his fortune."

"You did a little investigation work?" prompted the detective.

"Exactly. I read the letters in the attic, and I thought it was time someone knew about the great injustice which had been done Walter Crocker."

"That was very kind of you, I'm sure," said the detective dryly. "What did you do when you found the letters?"

"I didn't do anything at first. Then Mr. Crocker discharged me----"

"I see," interrupted Mr. Nichols. "His high-handed ways made you remember the letters in the cottage attic. Thinking that the nephew should learn of them you no doubt entered the cottage and secured the evidence."

"I did," the housekeeper nodded grimly.