Chapter V: A Night Visitor

"How dare you accuse me of such a thing!" exclaimed Mrs. Masterbrook angrily. "I merely came into this bedroom to do the work for which I was hired."

"Did my father employ you to read his private letters?" asked Penny coldly.

"I was cleaning the room and I thought I would unpack the suitcase. I had just come upon these letters when you walked in."

"I'll relieve you of them now," said Penny. "Hereafter, please don't touch anything either in father's suitcase or my own."

Mrs. Masterbrook did not trust herself to reply. With an angry toss of her head she marched back to the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

"I don't care if she is out of sorts!" Penny thought. "Dad ought to discharge her for a trick like this."

She returned the letters to the suitcase and after locking the bag took the key with her. Later in the afternoon when Mr. Nichols came back to the cottage in company with one of the telephone men, she drew him aside to reveal what the housekeeper had done.

"It's nothing so very serious," the detective said. "Of course the trick was a contemptible one, but I doubt that she learned anything of interest. The letters all dealt with matters of routine business."

"But if Mrs. Masterbrook reads our letters she'll pry into other things too."

"We could discharge her," the detective said, frowning thoughtfully. "The point is--where would we get another housekeeper on short notice? Especially one who can cook."

"Mrs. Masterbrook does do her work well," Penny admitted grudgingly.

"I'll discharge her if you say the word, Penny."

"No, let her stay," the girl decided. "But we'll have to be very careful about what we do and say around her."

With a telephone installed, the electric lights connected, and the house stocked with groceries, Penny and her father felt that they were fairly well established in the cottage. As was to be expected, Mrs. Masterbrook acted very distant during the remainder of the day. She went about the house with an injured air which was amusing to Penny and Mr. Nichols.

Toward evening the telephone rang.

"Why, that was a long and two short!" exclaimed Penny, springing up from her chair. "That's our ring."

"Must be a mistake," replied Mr. Nichols. "No one would be calling us so soon."

Before Penny could reach the telephone, Mrs. Masterbrook answered it. She appeared in the doorway and said primly to Mr. Nichols:

"Long distance is calling."

"Long distance!" exclaimed the detective. "That's queer. How did anyone get my number so soon?"

"I'm sure you can't blame _that_ on me," replied the housekeeper maliciously.

Mr. Nichols went to answer the call. Penny noticed that Mrs. Masterbrook lingered not far away, evidently listening. Upon seeing that the girl was watching, she retreated to the kitchen.

In a few minutes Mr. Nichols returned to the living room.

"I hope nothing is wrong at home," Penny said in a low tone. She was afraid the call had been from Mrs. Gallup.

"No, everything is all right," returned the detective. "That was Inspector Harris who telephoned me."

"But how did he get your telephone number?"

"Oh, he plagued Mrs. Gallup into revealing our address, and then he found that we had a telephone installed today. Worse luck!"

"Mrs. Gallup was instructed not to tell where we were unless something of great importance arose."

"The inspector evidently convinced her that this was a vital matter."

"What is it all about anyway?" Penny inquired curiously.

"Inspector Harris wants me to take a new case. Last night a big robbery was committed at Hannibal, which is the nearest town to Kendon. The inspector thought that since I was on the scene it would be convenient for me to conduct the investigation."

"Convenient for him."

"Obviously."

Penny glanced quickly at her father. "And what did you tell him, Dad?"

"I said I wouldn't do it. This is my vacation and I mean to enjoy it."

"Good for you, Dad," Penny said approvingly.

"The inspector didn't like to take 'no' for an answer," Mr. Nichols went on. "He claimed that this was not an ordinary robbery case and that I'd be sorry if I turned it down."

"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 Knob 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 hello 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.

At nine o'clock it began to rain. The wind, steadily growing stronger, rattled the windowpanes.

"I'm afraid this will be a noisy place tonight," commented Mr. Nichols. "But I'm drowsy enough to sleep through anything."

Mrs. Masterbrook had retired soon after the dishes were washed. After getting himself a drink in the kitchen, Mr. Nichols announced that he too was going to bed.

"I'll be coming along in a few minutes," Penny said. "How about the doors? Shall I lock them?"

"Oh, it wouldn't do any harm," replied the detective carelessly. "But on a night like this there's no chance anyone will visit us----"

Mr. Nichols' voice trailed slowly away. As if in contradiction to his words, there came a sharp rap on the door.