Penny Nichols and the Black Imp Part 12

"Your money and valuables," he commanded.

"Help yourself," the detective invited cheerfully.

As the holdup man reached into an inside pocket, Mr. Nichols' fist shot out, catching him squarely under the jaw. The startled thief staggered back and dropped his bag of loot. Before he could recover from the blow, the detective wrenched the revolver from his grasp.

"Look out!" Penny screamed. From the opposite side of the room the other holdup man was taking careful aim at the detective.

Mr. Nichols whirled and fired. The shot buried itself in the wall, but it was close enough to the crook to warn him that the detective was no amateur at handling firearms.

"Scram!" he yelled warningly to his companion.

They fled into the garden with the detective in close pursuit. The two thieves were too hard pressed to give any thought to the lost bag of loot. Several shots were exchanged but the men succeeded in reaching their car which was parked in the driveway. The engine roared as they sped away. Springing into his own automobile, Nichols took up the pursuit but he soon abandoned it as useless, returning to the house.

There he telephoned the police, offering not only the license number of the fleeing automobile but a detailed description of the men.

"The radio cruiser ought to pick them up in a few minutes," he told Penny.

While a curious crowd gathered about he took a knife and extracted the bullet which had been fired into the wall.

"What will you do with that?" someone questioned.

"Keep it for evidence," he explained. "And this revolver as well, although now that I've used it, all fingermarks probably have been obliterated."

The women were clamoring for their lost jewelry, so with Penny's a.s.sistance, the detective distributed the articles.

"I feel just like Santa Claus taking presents out of my pack," he declared jokingly. "Here's your brooch, Penny. Did you think you were going to lose it?"

"Yes, I did, Dad. I saw red when that man tore it off my dress."

"So did I."

"You certainly didn't show it. You advised me to make no resistance."

"That was because I didn't want you to be shot."

"Then you turned right around a second later and took a big chance yourself. You might have been killed."

"I knew what I was about," the detective returned quietly.

Mrs. Dillon came up to Mr. Nichols, gripping his hand. Her own was trembling.

"You were marvelous, simply marvelous!" she said tremulously. "Never before in my life have I witnessed such a display of courage."

Others joined in the praise until Mr. Nichols was embarra.s.sed. He hurriedly began to distribute the remainder of the stolen jewelry.

"Your necklace," he said to Mrs. Dillon, presenting it to her.

"Thank you, thank you," the woman murmured gratefully. "How can I ever repay you for saving my pearls?"

"By taking better care of them in the future," he responded grimly.

Mrs. Dillon looked slightly offended. "I have always taken excellent care of my pearls, Mr. Nichols," she replied.

"Perhaps your idea of excellent care does not agree with mine. The necklace is insured?"

"No, it isn't," Mrs. Dillon admitted reluctantly. "My husband spoke of attending to it several times but never did."

"You took a great risk wearing the pearls at a function such as this without even the precaution of having detectives on the premises to watch for gem thieves."

"You were here," Mrs. Dillon smiled. "I shall have my husband send you a check in the morning."

"Then I shall be compelled to return it," the detective replied. "May I ask if you have been in the habit of keeping the necklace in the house, Mrs. Dillon?"

"Why, yes, but I a.s.sure you I have an excellent hiding place."

Mr. Nichols could not restrain an amused smile.

"An experienced gem thief could probably find it in ten minutes' time.

But that's neither here nor there. The point is, you should not keep the necklace in the house at all unless you do not care if you lose it."

"Of course I care," Mrs. Dillon retorted. "That string cost my husband fifteen thousand dollars."

"Then the necklace is even more valuable than I imagined. I should advise you to take it to the bank vault in the morning. Keep it there until you have it fully protected by insurance."

"I'll do it," Mrs. Dillon promised. "I really think your advice is worth following. I have been careless with the pearls."

In a few minutes the orchestra began to play again and the party went on, although many of the guests were still too nervous and excited to dance. They sat in groups discussing the hold-up. Christopher Nichols became the center of one admiring circle after another. He did not enjoy the attention.

"Let's go home," he suggested to Penny. "I've had enough."

"All right," she agreed instantly. "I left my wraps upstairs. I'll get them."

She crossed the ballroom and entered a hallway. As she paused to permit a couple to pa.s.s, she noticed that Hanley Cron and Mrs. Dillon were standing at the foot of the spiral stairway, their backs toward her, engaged in earnest talk. She could not help hearing a s.n.a.t.c.h of their conversation.

"Mrs. Dillon, why don't you take lunch with me tomorrow at my studio?"

the art critic invited.

"I should enjoy it, Mr. Cron," the woman replied. "I might drop in after I take my necklace to the bank vault."

"I see you are determined to follow Christopher Nichols' advice."

"Yes, don't you think I should?"

"I believe he is not considered a very reliable detective," the man replied. "However, in this instance, his advice might be worth following."

"I'm glad you think so, Mr. Cron. I'll take the necklace to the bank in the morning."

"Why not come to my studio before going to the bank?" the art critic proposed. "Then I could serve as an escort. With such a valuable package in your possession you really need a guard."