Penny Nichols And The Knob Hill Mystery Part 9

"What was so unusual about it, Dad?"

"Nothing that I could tell. A private home was entered and the thieves escaped with about a thousand dollars' worth of jewelry. The owner, a man of wealth, insists upon private detectives taking over the case.

He's not satisfied with the local police talent."

While Penny and her father were discussing the robbery, Mrs.

Masterbrook announced dinner. To their relief, she did not talk during the meal but maintained an aloof air.

"I don't like the look of the weather," remarked Mr. Nichols, glancing out the window. "I shouldn't be surprised if we have a storm tonight."

"The wind does appear to be rising," Penny agreed. "Just listen to it whistle in the grove of evergreens--it gives one a creepy feeling."

"I hope we have a good roof over us," Mr. Nichols declared. "One that doesn't leak."

As he spoke, the room was suddenly plunged into darkness.

"Mercy on us!" screamed Mrs. Masterbrook in terror. "What's happened to the lights?"

"Probably the current has been turned off, or the high wind may have broken a wire," said the detective calmly.

"Or a fuse may have blown out," Penny added.

"I'll get my flashlight from the car and take a look," said Mr.

Nichols. "I don't know if I can locate the fuse box or not."

"It's in the cellar," contributed Mrs. Masterbrook.

"The only way to get down there is from the outside of the cottage,"

Penny added. "Those strange-looking double doors with the iron rings pull up, and beneath them is a stone stairway which leads into the cellar. Be careful, for it's easy to fall. I took a tumble myself this afternoon when I was prowling around."

Mr. Nichols groped his way to the door and disappeared into the night.

A few minutes later Penny saw the beam of his flashlight playing over the lawn. Then the cellar doors were thrown back and the light vanished.

"You'd not catch me going down into that dark, damp hole at night!"

Mrs. Masterbrook said in a low voice.

"Why not?" asked Penny. "Isn't it just as dark here?"

"Something might happen. If you knew what I do about this place----"

"What do you mean?" questioned Penny quickly.

"Oh, I don't tell everything I know," the housekeeper retorted.

Penny felt certain that the woman was trying to plague her, but nevertheless she was greatly relieved when her father returned to the kitchen.

"It was only a blown fuse after all," he reported. "But I can't find any extra ones."

"I'll telephone Mr. Crocker!" Penny announced. "He's our landlord and he ought to work at the job."

"I'll bet a cent you don't get any," the detective rejoined.

After a lengthy telephone conversation, Penny faced her father triumphantly.

"You lose your cent," she laughed. "Mr. Crocker was provoked, but he promised to come right over with a new fuse."

Twenty minutes later an ancient automobile was heard laboring up k.n.o.b Hill. Mr. Crocker came up the walk, carrying a lighted lantern.

"Seems like you folks are having a lot of trouble here," he said crossly as Mr. Nichols met him at the door.

"We're sorry to trouble you," replied the detective. "If the cottage had been better equipped----"

"I'll put in the fuse for you to be sure it's good," Mr. Crocker interrupted.

He and Mr. Nichols went down into the cellar together. From the doorway of the kitchen Penny noticed that someone was sitting in Mr.

Crocker's car.

"Is that you, Perry?" she called softly.

There was no answer, so she walked down to the car. Mr. Crocker's grandson sat hunched down in the front seat.

"Aren't you going to say h.e.l.lo to me?" asked Penny. "I do believe you're shy."

"I'm not shy," replied the little boy quickly. "But my grandpa says he'll whip me if I talk with you."

Penny was silent for a moment.

"Of course I don't wish you to get into trouble, Perry," she said quietly, "but why doesn't your grandfather like me?"

"Because you'll ask too many questions," the boy answered. "Please go away now, before grandpa finds you talking with me."

The cottage became flooded with light as Mr. Nichols and Herman Crocker replaced the old fuse. Penny knew that they would be coming up the steps in a moment. She did not wish Perry to be punished so she slipped back into the house.

However, as soon as Herman Crocker had driven away Penny ran back outside to meet her father. She told him what Perry had said.

"Herman Crocker is a queer old duck," the detective replied. "I don't doubt he abuses the boy."

"We ought to do something about it, Dad," Penny said earnestly.

"Now don't get worked up over the affair. We haven't any proof that the boy is mistreated. If the local authorities aren't interested in the case, we have no call to interfere. We'd only stir up a tempest in a teapot."

"I suppose you're right," Penny admitted reluctantly. "You usually are."

"I'd forget the Crocker family if I were you. Try to enjoy your vacation."

Penny did not wish to forget about Perry. She felt that he deserved a better fate than life with a queer old man like Herman Crocker.

Later in the evening as she sat with a book, she kept thinking of the boy. She could not keep her mind on anything she read.