Penny Nichols And The Knob Hill Mystery Part 11

"We're not worried upon that score," replied Mr. Nichols with a smile.

"But you might tell us your name."

"Oh, yes, to be sure----" stammered the young man. "Just call me Michael--Michael Haymond."

"I am very glad to know you, Mr. Haymond," returned the detective.

"May I take your coat and hat? I'll build up the fire so that your things will dry out."

Penny crossed the room intending to call Mrs. Masterbrook. As she opened the door leading into the hallway she saw the housekeeper hastily retreating into her own bedroom. Obviously she had been listening to the conversation.

"Mrs. Masterbrook!" called Penny.

"Well, what is it?" asked the housekeeper, re-opening her door.

"A guest is spending the night. Will you please help me prepare the east bedroom?"

"This is a nice time to start making up beds," the housekeeper complained. "I was just ready to undress."

"I'm sorry to bother you, Mrs. Masterbrook. I'll do it myself."

"I didn't say I wasn't willing to help," the housekeeper said quickly.

"Only if you ask me, you're making a big mistake to take a perfect stranger into the house."

"What makes you think he's a stranger?" asked Penny quickly.

"I couldn't help hearing what he told you," Mrs. Masterbrook returned with a toss of her head. "I don't believe for a single minute that his name is Michael Haymond. Anyone could tell that he was lying."

"Who do you think he is?" asked Penny. "A 'G' man in disguise?"

"He looks more like a young criminal to me," Mrs. Masterbrook replied soberly. "His face is very familiar."

"Dear me, how did you manage to see him? Not through the keyhole?"

The housekeeper had not meant to betray herself. She flushed and made no answer.

"If you care to meet Mr. Haymond, come into the living room," Penny invited. "I think you'll find him to be a very nice young man."

"No, thank you, I don't wish to meet him," said the housekeeper coldly.

"And if the cottage is robbed during the night, kindly don't blame me."

"All right, I won't," laughed Penny.

The bedroom which the guest was to occupy adjoined Mr. Nichols'

sleeping quarters. Long after the house had settled down for the night, Penny could hear sounds from that part of the cottage. Either her father or Mr. Haymond was very restless.

"It may have been unwise to take a stranger into the house," the girl reflected, "but he seemed honest enough. I don't see why Mrs.

Masterbrook had to act so hateful about it."

For some time Penny remained awake thinking over the information which Michael Haymond had given about himself. He had not told where he lived nor had he mentioned the nature of his business with Herman Crocker. She had fancied that the young man had seemed somewhat shaken by her reference to Walter Crocker.

"I may have imagined that part," she told herself. "Dad didn't seem to notice anything wrong."

Shortly Penny fell asleep. Several hours later she found herself wide awake again. She did not know what had aroused her.

Although Penny had left the curtains up, the room was dark. She could still hear the rain pattering against the tin roof.

Then the girl became aware of another sound. She heard a floor board creak. Someone was moving softly down the hallway.

"I wonder who is up at this hour?" she thought.

For a minute Penny lay perfectly still, listening. Then she crept noiselessly from bed. Drawing on her dressing gown, she tiptoed to the door.

The hall was dark. At first she could distinguish nothing; then she made out a shadowy figure at the far end. Someone was trying to open the door which led up to the attic.

CHAPTER VII

Penny's Discovery

"Is that you, father?" Penny asked.

When there was no answer, she reached up and pressed the electric switch. The hallway became flooded with light. Penny and Michael Haymond stood blinking at each other, both deeply embarra.s.sed.

"Oh, I'm sorry," stammered the young man. "I didn't mean to disturb anyone. I was just after a drink of water."

"I'm afraid you won't find it in the attic," replied Penny. "Not unless the roof is leaking."

"The attic?" Michael Haymond repeated. "I must be turned around then.

I thought this door led to the living room."

Penny could not be certain whether or not the young man was telling the truth. It was entirely possible that he had become confused in the dark hallway. She could not imagine any reason why he would have wished to investigate the attic.

Before Penny could frame a reply Mr. Nichols' door opened and the detective peered out.

"Anything wrong?" he asked.

"I am afraid I have disturbed the entire household," the young man apologized. "I was only looking for a drink of water."

"There's no harm in that, I'm sure," replied Mr. Nichols pleasantly.

"I'll get you one."

"It really doesn't matter," the young man murmured.

Just then Mrs. Masterbrook's door swung open. The housekeeper, garbed in an old-fas.h.i.+oned nightgown and with her hair done up in curlers, looked out into the hall.

"Dear me, what is going on here?" she asked crossly. "After working hard all day I'd like to get a little sleep."

"It was all my fault," Michael Haymond apologized again.