Penny Nichols and the Mystery of the Lost Key Part 8

The girls found themselves in a long, narrow living room. The ceiling was beamed, the furniture was rustic, and a great fireplace occupied one end of the wall.

Penny crossed over to the hearth. There was no fire but logs were in readiness to make one.

"I don't feel right about coming in here," Rosanna said nervously.

"Nonsense, if it's your property you're not trespa.s.sing," Penny insisted.

"Besides, it looks to me as if you were expected, for everything seems in readiness for guests. I'm going to build a fire and see if I can't thaw out my chilled bones."

Reluctantly, Rosanna went to help her. Soon they had a roaring fire in the hearth. As they grew more comfortable they took more interest in their surroundings. The room was plainly but expensively furnished.

Curious objects from many lands occupied the tables and bric-a-brac shelves.

"Your uncle must have lived an interesting life," Penny commented, picking up a tiny ivory box from a nearby stand.

"Yes, Mother often told me----"

Rosanna's voice broke in the midst of the sentence. Turning, Penny saw that her friend's eyes were fastened upon the window. All color had drained from Rosanna's face. Her eyes were dilated with fear.

"What is it?" Penny demanded.

Rosanna clutched her hand.

"I saw someone just then," she whispered. "A man's face at the window!"

CHAPTER V The Lost Key

Penny turned quickly toward the window. She saw nothing save the rain trickling down the panes.

"You must have imagined it, Rosanna."

"No, I didn't. I know I saw a face."

Rosanna huddled close to Penny. She was afraid.

"I'll go and look out," Penny proposed daringly.

Before Rosanna could stop her she moved to the door and flung it open. A man in oilskins confronted her. His face was half hidden by the felt hat which he wore low over his eyes.

"What do you want?" Penny asked nervously.

Without answering, the man stepped into the room. Under the electric light he did not look as terrifying as he had at first glance. Penny saw when he swept off his dripping hat that he was an elderly man although spry for his years. She felt slightly rea.s.sured.

"I came to find out what you mean by entering Mr. Winters' house when he's away?" the man demanded curtly. "Don't stand there staring like a blind owl! Answer."

Rosanna had completely lost her power of speech, so Penny tried to explain the situation. She told how they had been caught by the storm and mentioned Rosanna's key and letter which gave her right to investigate the property.

"So you're old Jacob Winters' niece?" the man questioned gruffly, peering intently at Rosanna. "At least that's what you say."

"Of course he's my uncle, although I never saw him," Rosanna defended. "I can prove it by my letter."

"Probably wrote it yourself," the man snapped. "But let's see it anyway."

"Just a minute," Penny interposed, feeling that it was time the newcomer answered a few questions of his own. "Are you the caretaker of this house?"

"Yes, and no. I'm a neighbor of Mr. Winters and he asked me to keep an eye on his house while he was away. I saw the light in the windows and came to see what was wrong."

"My uncle is dead," Rosanna said quietly. "I have inherited the estate."

"Jacob Winters dead!" the man exploded. "Why, I had a card from him last week. Mailed from some place down in Africa. Let me see that letter you claim to have."

Rosanna opened her pocketbook and searched for it. A troubled look came over her face. She was certain she had placed both the letter and the key in the inside compartment. Now she could find neither.

"So you haven't got it?" the man said suspiciously.

"I must have it somewhere. I can't imagine how I misplaced it. You remember the letter don't you, Penny?"

"Of course. You had it in your pocketbook the last time I saw it. We're telling you the absolute truth Mr.----"

"Caleb Eckert," he supplied. "If you didn't have a key how did you get into the house?"

"Why, the door was open--that is, it was unlocked," Penny explained.

Caleb Eckert peered at her sharply as if trying to make up his mind if she were speaking the truth. Rosanna, who by this time had emptied her purse out upon the table, was growing more upset every minute.

"Oh, let's leave this house, Penny," she burst out. "I've lost the letter and the key and so we've no right to be here at all. I didn't mean to trespa.s.s. I wish we'd never have come at all. That letter has caused me so much grief."

Rosanna looked as if she might cry at any moment. Caleb Eckert softened.

"Now, I wouldn't want you to go out into this storm. As far as I'm concerned you may stay here for the night."

"We don't care to intrude," Rosanna said stiffly.

"It isn't safe to go down the mountain in this rain," the man declared, adopting a more friendly tone. "Now don't be offended by the way I acted.

My bark is worse than my bite."

"We can't blame you for being suspicious," Penny admitted. "It may be that someone played a joke on Rosanna in sending her the letter and key.

We were afraid of that from the first."

Caleb Eckert's eyes roved to the crackling fire, then to the splattered windows.

"Tell you what," he proposed gruffly. "You girls stay here for the night.

In the morning we'll see if we can't straighten things out."

"But if Mr. Winters is alive we have no right to use this house," Rosanna protested weakly.

"You're his niece, aren't you?" Caleb demanded. "Jacob Winters wouldn't turn anyone out in a storm, much less one of his own kin folks. Have you had supper?"