Penny and Susan ran nearly all of the way back up Knob Hill. They were quite out of breath by the time they reached the cottage.
"Is there a fire somewhere?" inquired Mr. Nichols, who was reading the evening paper on the porch. "Or are you girls running a race?"
Penny cast a quick glance about to be certain that neither Michael nor Mrs. Masterbrook were near.
"Dad," she announced impressively. "The toy lantern has been claimed."
The detective dropped his paper and quickly arose.
"By whom?" he asked.
"It was Perry Crocker who took the lantern away, Dad. Susan and I were in the store when he came in for candy."
"He made a positive identification?"
"Oh, yes, Dad," Penny declared. "Perry told Mr. Turner that he had constructed the wick from an old piece of cloth in the house."
"Then it looks as if Herman Crocker may be mixed up in the robbery."
"Don't you remember that from the very first I said he was a suspicious character," Penny reminded her father.
"Yes, I remember," Mr. Nichols replied dryly.
"What will you do now, Dad? Have Mr. Crocker arrested?"
"Not without more evidence against him," returned the detective. "Our clue is an important one but it may not lead where we expect. It's a serious matter to arrest a man on a false charge."
"But it must be Herman Crocker," Penny argued. "We know Perry couldn't have committed the robbery."
"You say that you saw Herman in town?" Mr. Nichols inquired.
"Yes, he waited for Perry in the car and then drove away."
"Toward home?"
"Why, I didn't notice," Penny admitted.
"I did," Susan declared, eager to make a contribution. "He was driving the opposite way."
"Then there is a chance he may not have returned home yet," Mr. Nichols said. "I'm going down there and look around."
"May I go along, Dad?" Penny asked eagerly.
"You both may come," Mr. Nichols said after a slight hesitation, "but you must do exactly as I say."
At that moment Mrs. Masterbrook appeared in the doorway.
"Supper is ready," she announced.
"You'll have to keep it waiting," the detective told her. "I've just remembered an important engagement."
"I always serve at exactly six o'clock," Mrs. Masterbrook said primly. "The food won't be good if it stands."
"That doesn't matter to me," Mr. Nichols returned impatiently. "We'll hash up our own supper when we get back."
As he and the girls walked away, the housekeeper stood watching them with keen displeasure. Penny wondered if the woman guessed that they were going to the Herman Crocker place.
During the hike down Knob Hill, the girls told Mr. Nichols everything they had learned about Herman Crocker and his nephew, Walter. This time the detective did not term Penny's ideas wild. He listened in a manner which was most flattering.
"It's all a mix-up," Penny finished. "I feel sure that Mrs. Masterbrook is acquainted with Walter Crocker because she warned him to keep away from our cottage."
"Mrs. Masterbrook seems to have her finger in every pie," commented Mr. Nichols. "But I'm not much concerned with her affairs, or whether or not Old Herman has cheated his nephew. I'm only interested in learning if he is the one who stole the diamond necklace."
"If he'd rob his nephew it follows that he'd be the type to take jewels too."
"Not necessarily," answered the detective. "House breaking is a different sort of crime entirely. The fact is, Herman Crocker doesn't impress me as being the kind of person who would commit such an act."
"The evidence is all against him," Penny argued.
"It is," Mr. Nichols agreed. "But one can't put too much faith in circumstantial proof. We must investigate first and draw our conclusions later."
The three were close to the Crocker premises by this time. There was no sign of the old man's car, and Mr. Nichols felt hopeful that he had not yet returned from town.
At the entrance of the lane, Mr. Nichols paused.
"Susan," he said, "I'd like to have you remain here. If you see Crocker's car coming up the road, run to the house as fast as you can and call out a warning."
"I'll keep a careful watch," Susan promised.
Mr. Nichols and Penny hurried on up the lane. They were quite certain that Mr. Crocker and his grandson had not returned from Kendon, but taking no chance, they pounded several times on the door.
"The place is empty all right," Mr. Nichols declared.
He tried the door and found it locked. Nor could they enter by either the side or rear entrance.
"How are we going to get in?" Penny asked in disappointment.
"One of the windows should be unlocked," Mr. Nichols said, looking up speculatively. "Here, I'll give you a boost."
He lifted Penny on his shoulders so that she could reach one of the high windows.
"Locked," she reported.
"All right, we'll try another," said the detective.
The second window likewise proved to be fastened, but when Penny tried the third one it opened.
"Good!" exclaimed Mr. Nichols. "Jump down inside and open the door!"
Penny found herself gazing into an untidy living room. The rug was moth eaten and there was dust everywhere on the old fashioned Victorian furniture. The walls were heavy with family pictures in wooden frames, and Penny's attention was drawn to a curious feather wreath.
"Hurry!" warned Mr. Nichols from below.
"I'll be there in a jiffy," Penny called back.
She jumped lightly down and ran to unfasten the door. Mr. Nichols entered and closed it behind him, turning the night lock.
"We'll have to work fast," he said crisply. "Old Herman may come back any minute."
"What do you expect to find?" asked Penny.
"Perhaps the necklace or at least some evidence which will attach Herman to the crime. I'll start searching in the upstairs bedrooms. You might go through that desk."
With a nod of his head, the detective indicated an old fashioned secretary which stood in one corner of the living room.
The desk was filled to overflowing with papers of all sorts. A quick inspection satisfied Penny that the diamond necklace was not there, but if she had time she meant to examine the papers carefully.
"When you finish with the desk, start looking through the kitchen cupboards," Mr. Nichols called down from upstairs.
Penny was working swiftly at her task when the detective came down to assist her.
"There's nothing in the bedrooms," he reported. "I thought Old Herman might have hidden the jewels in one of the mattresses. Having any luck here?"
"None yet, but there are a lot of papers in the desk."
"We'll get to those later," Mr. Nichols nodded.
The detective made a swift but thorough inspection of the kitchen. He examined the floor boards to see if any had been pried loose and even poked into the rag bag.
"Here's something!" he said triumphantly, pulling out a piece of white cloth.
"Why, that is the same material I saw in Turner's store!" Penny exclaimed.
"Yes, it was used to make the wick of the lantern. We'll keep it for evidence."
Mr. Nichols stuffed the cloth into his coat pocket.
"I've looked all through the cupboards," Penny reported. "I'm going back and examine some of those papers now."
"All right," her father agreed.
Penny had never seen such a disordered desk. Apparently, Herman Crocker had kept every letter, receipt, and paper which ever came into his possession, tossing all together in one untidy heap.
Penny thumbed rapidly through the letters, discarding all which were of a strictly business nature. Suddenly she came upon a photograph which had turned yellow with age. A glance assured Penny that it was a likeness of Herman Crocker when he had been some years younger.
"Just what I need!" she thought triumphantly. "This will be a great deal better than a snapshot!"
Slipping the photograph into her pocket she went on with her search. In one drawer of the desk she found nothing but old tax receipts showing payments paid by Herman Crocker for both the cottage property and his farm.
Penny knew she would not have time to examine each receipt in turn so she opened a second drawer. It was crammed with old checks and bank statements. In the very bottom was a thick green book.
Penny opened it up and saw that it was a detailed expense account running back many years. She was about to toss the book carelessly aside, when a notation on one of the pages caught her eye. The item read:
"Paid to the Glenhaven Orphan's Home—$100.00 for keep of Michael Gladwin."
Penny stared at the notation for an instant, and then turned toward her father.
"Dad, I've found something important!" she exclaimed. "This account book—"
Before she could finish, there was a loud pounding on the door.
"Herman Crocker is coming up the road!" Susan Altman called excitedly. "Hurry or he'll be here!"
"Bring the book and come on, Penny," Mr. Nichols ordered tersely. "We don't want Crocker to catch us here."
Penny snatched up the account book, slammed shut the desk and followed her father to the door. Susan was waiting there, nervously watching the entrance to the narrow lane. A car was just coming into view.
"Duck into the pine grove," commanded the detective.
The three disappeared behind the trees just as Herman Crocker's battered old car wheezed up the lane. Mr. Nichols and the girls remained motionless until the old man and his grandson had gone into the house. Then they moved noiselessly away, keeping to the evergreen grove until they reached the main road.
"Penny, what were you starting to tell me about an account book?" questioned Mr. Nichols as they paused.
"I'll show you," offered Penny.
She opened the account book to the item which had drawn her attention, but in the dim light it was difficult for Mr. Nichols to make out the fine writing.
"Michael Gladwin," he read slowly aloud. "I seem to be thick headed——"
"Oh, Susan and I didn't tell you that part!" Penny cried. "We think Gladwin is Michael Haymond's real name! He dropped a handkerchief bearing the initials 'M. G.', and when we were over at Glenhaven we learned from the former matron of the institution that a strange person who might have been Herman Crocker, brought a boy who was named Michael Gladwin to the Home."
"There seems to be quite a bit going on that I know nothing about," Mr. Nichols remarked dryly. "Suppose you start at the beginning, Penny, and tell me everything."
"Are you sure you'll not think my ideas wild?" Penny asked teasingly.
"I am quite willing to retract my words," Mr. Nichols said. "Your ideas and theories are proving remarkably sound."
Penny and Susan were only too glad to relate everything they had learned about Michael Gladwin.
"I'll question the young man just as soon as we reach the cottage," promised Mr. Nichols. "We'll get at the bottom of this matter and see if it can be straightened out."
"Michael may deny everything," Penny said thoughtfully. "He has some particular reason for wishing to keep his past a secret. Dad, I have an idea!"
"What is it, Penny?"
"Why couldn't we drive over to Ferndale to-night and take Michael with us? He'd have no suspicion that we were calling upon Mrs. Havers until he met her face to face!"
"Confronted with the former matron you believe that he would break down and confess the truth?"
"Yes, I think he might, Dad. At any rate, Mrs. Havers could establish definitely whether or not he is Michael Gladwin."
"Your plan is a good one," Mr. Nichols said after a moment's reflection. "We'll start right away if we can locate Michael."
"He usually walks down to the village after supper," Penny declared anxiously. "I hope he hasn't left yet."
Michael was just starting away from the cottage when Mr. Nichols and the girls arrived. The detective stopped him, explaining that they would like to have his company on a motor trip to a distant town.
"I don't enjoy changing a tire at night," Mr. Nichols said. "While I'm not looking for trouble, I'd like to have a handy man along just in case something happens."
"I'll be very glad to go, sir," replied Michael.
"You might be getting the car from the garage," Mr. Nichols directed. "I'll be along in a minute."
He started for the cottage after his light overcoat. Mrs. Masterbrook sat rocking back and forth on the porch.
"I hope you're ready for your supper now," she said tartly.
"I've not time to eat it, Mrs. Masterbrook. I am sorry to have annoyed you this way."
"I've kept it warming for over an hour," the housekeeper said crossly. "I declare, I can't understand your comings and goings."
Paying no heed to Mrs. Masterbrook's grumblings, the detective found his coat and hastened back to the car.
"What shall I say if anyone telephones?" the housekeeper called after him. "Where shall I say you are?"
"Tell them you don't know," shouted the detective.
It was evident to Penny and Susan that Michael had no suspicion where he was being taken. Even when the automobile drew near Ferndale he did not appear to grow uneasy. He was so calm and undisturbed that they began to wonder if they had made another mistake.
"Of course the Orphan's Home isn't at Ferndale," Penny told herself. "He probably doesn't know that Mrs. Havers has left the Glenhaven Home."
It was after nine o'clock when the car finally drew up in front of the former matron's home. The girls were afraid that Mrs. Havers might have retired early and so were greatly relieved to see a light burning on the lower floor.
"Michael, why don't you come in with us?" Penny asked as she alighted from the car.
"Oh, I'll wait out here," he replied.
"No, come along," Mr. Nichols invited.
He took Michael by the arm and steered him up the walk. Penny and Susan went on ahead to ring the doorbell. They were a little worried for fear that Mrs. Havers would not wish to receive them so late in the evening.
After a long wait, the door slowly opened. Mrs. Havers, her face hidden by the shadows, did not readily recognize the girls. However, after they had spoken, she urged them to come inside.
Penny and Susan entered the cottage and waited for Mr. Nichols and Michael. Mrs. Havers turned to face the newcomers. For an instant she stared blankly at Michael and then she gave a cry of delight.
"Michael Gladwin! How glad I am to see you again!"
"Mrs. Havers!" exclaimed the young man. Then he became confused and glanced quickly toward Mr. Nichols.
"We've known for some time that you were Michael Gladwin," said Mr. Nichols.
"Of course he is Michael Gladwin," declared Mrs. Havers. "Who else could he be?"
"I have a great deal to explain," said the young man, looking again at the detective. "I know you surely must be thinking that I have deceived you——"
"I am sure you had a very good reason," replied Mr. Nichols kindly.
Mrs. Havers was deeply troubled by the conversation which she could not understand. She urged her visitors to seat themselves. Mr. Nichols, always restless in moments of stress, found it impossible to remain in a chair. He annoyed his hostess exceedingly by moving about the room, appearing to examine books, bric-a-brac and objects of furniture.
"Before we ask Michael to tell his story, I should like to have you look at this picture, Mrs. Havers," said Penny. She offered the photograph of Herman Crocker. "Have you seen the man before?"
"Let me turn up the light. My eyes aren't as strong as they were."
Mrs. Havers studied the picture intently for a minute.
"This is a photograph of Mr. Keenan," said the former matron. Her gaze wandered to Michael. "He is the man who brought you to the Orphan's Home."
"You are certain?" asked Mr. Nichols eagerly.
"Of course I am," answered the old lady firmly. "I seldom forget a face. This is a very good likeness of Mr. Keenan as I remember him."
"Mr. Keenan and Herman Crocker were one and the same person!" cried Penny. "I am beginning to understand everything now!"
"Then I wish you'd explain it to me," said Michael. "I have known for some time that Crocker was supposed to be my uncle, but until now I rather doubted that there was any truth to the story."
"How did you learn that he was related to you?" Penny asked quickly.
"Through an anonymous letter," Michael replied. "It was forwarded to me after I left the Glenhaven Home. The writer informed me that my true name was Walter Crocker and that I would find evidence to support my claim to the Crocker fortune at your cottage."
"So your visit to Kendon was made for the purpose of claiming Crocker's money," Mr. Nichols said musing. "What did you expect to find in our cottage?"
"I don't know, sir," Michael returned soberly. "I thought possibly there might be letters or photographs which would establish my true identity."
"Were you the person whom I mistook for a robber a few nights ago?" Penny questioned.
"Yes," Michael admitted. "I shouldn't have been prowling about the house, but in the day time I never had a chance to search. When you heard me in the living room I ran out the door and hid in the woods."
"And I suppose it was you who took a package of letters from the attic trunk," Penny went on.
"I did take some letters, but they were valueless. To tell you the truth, I haven't a scrap of evidence to support my claim."
"I think we may be able to help you," Mr. Nichols said slowly. "But you must answer several questions. I recall that when you first came to our cottage you told us you intended to see Mr. Crocker on business. Yet to my knowledge you never went to see him."
"I don't wonder that my actions appear contrary, sir. I intended to visit Herman Crocker immediately, but while I was at your cottage, a remark was dropped which led me to believe that another person who claimed to be Walter Crocker already had called upon my uncle."
"That is true," the detective nodded. "There is another young man who claims to be Walter Crocker."
"You see my position, sir. I had no proof of anything. I was afraid that someone had played a joke on me. For that reason I gave a false name and said nothing of the matter. I thought I would wait a few days until I had gained more information."
"You acted wisely," Mr. Nichols declared.
"Obviously, Walter Crocker is an imposter," Penny said. "But who is he? What is his true name and how did he obtain the evidence against Herman Crocker?"
"We may be able to answer all those questions before we finish with the case," returned the detective. "If Mrs. Havers will testify that Michael is the same boy who was brought to the Glenhaven Home by Mr. Keenan and that Keenan and Crocker are the same person, it will be a simple matter to establish a claim to the fortune."
"The man of this photograph is the same individual who came to the Home years ago," declared Mrs. Havers. "I will be glad to sign papers to that effect."
"The masquerading Walter Crocker is merely a blackmailer," the detective continued. "Undoubtedly, he knew that he could never establish a court claim to the fortune. But with the letters in his possession, he was able to frighten Herman Crocker into dealing with him privately."
"What finally became of the letters?" inquired Michael.
"Dad has them," said Penny. "And we have other evidence which should help your cause. At Crocker's house we found an account book showing that the old man paid the Glenhaven Home various amounts of money."
"I can't understand why a man would do such a thing," Michael said slowly. "Why did my uncle hate me?"
"Probably he didn't," replied the detective. "You merely stood in Mr. Crocker's way. Greed leads many a person astray."
"It was queer that for years Herman Crocker fooled everyone in Kendon," Penny remarked. "And then someone must have discovered his secret."
"I am puzzled by the anonymous letter," Mr. Nichols admitted, turning to Michael again. "I don't suppose you have it with you?"
"Yes, I do. You may read it if you wish."
Michael took a crumpled envelope from his inside coat pocket and offered it to the detective. Mr. Nichols scanned it briefly.
"The letter was postmarked at Kendon," he said.
"May I see it, Dad?" requested Penny.
He gave the letter to her and she studied it for a moment in silence. The communication contained no new information. As Michael had said, it merely hinted that he was the true heir to the Crocker fortune, and that he would find evidence to support his claim at the Knob Hill cottage. Penny was more interested in the handwriting than in the message. It seemed to her that it looked strangely familiar.
"Why, I've seen this writing before!" she exclaimed.
"Do you know who sent the letter?" asked her father quickly.
"I can make a very shrewd guess," replied Penny. "It was our all-wise housekeeper, Mrs. Masterbrook!"
"It would be in keeping with Mrs. Masterbrook's character to send an anonymous letter," Mr. Nichols agreed quickly.
"I am just sure this is her handwriting," Penny insisted. "I'd not be mistaken for she has made out so many grocery lists."
Mr. Nichols took the letter and put it in his pocket.
"Then Mrs. Masterbrook is the one person who should be able to clear up this tangle," he said. "We'll go to the cottage and question her."
Thanking Mrs. Havers for the aid she had offered, the party left Ferndale and made a swift trip back to Kendon. Unaware that she was under suspicion, Mrs. Masterbrook had retired when Mr. Nichols and the young people arrived. The detective pounded on her door.
"What is it?" called the housekeeper.
"Please come out here a minute," requested Mr. Nichols.
"I am ready for bed. Can't you tell me what you want from there."
"No, I cannot, Mrs. Masterbrook. Come out unless you prefer to tell your story to a policeman."
"A policeman!" echoed the housekeeper with a little shriek. "Oh, my goodness! I'll come right out."
She was dressed in five minutes but did not take time to remove the curlers from her hair.
"Just what is it that you wish?" she asked tartly as she gazed from one person to another. Everyone was watching her soberly.
"Look at this letter," said Mr. Nichols, placing the anonymous communication in her lap.
A flush spread over the housekeeper's face but she threw back her head defiantly.
"Well, what about it?"
"We know that you wrote the letter," said the detective sternly, "so you may as well admit the truth."
Mrs. Masterbrook hesitated, and for a moment Penny thought that she meant to deny the charge. Then the woman said coldly:
"Well, what if I did write it? You can't send me to jail for trying to do a good turn."
"No one has any intention of causing you trouble—providing you tell us everything," replied Mr. Nichols significantly.
"What do you wish to know?"
"First, how did you learn Mr. Crocker's secret?"
"I worked for him a great many years," returned the housekeeper with a slight toss of her head. "Both at this cottage and later when he lived at his present home. Not being stupid, I suspected a fly in the ointment so to speak when he came into his fortune."
"You did a little investigation work?" prompted the detective.
"Exactly. I read the letters in the attic, and I thought it was time someone knew about the great injustice which had been done Walter Crocker."
"That was very kind of you, I'm sure," said the detective dryly. "What did you do when you found the letters?"
"I didn't do anything at first. Then Mr. Crocker discharged me——"
"I see," interrupted Mr. Nichols. "His high-handed ways made you remember the letters in the cottage attic. Thinking that the nephew should learn of them you no doubt entered the cottage and secured the evidence."
"I did," the housekeeper nodded grimly.
"But how did you know where to find Walter Crocker?"
"I suspected that he was a certain boy named Michael Gladwin," Mrs. Masterbrook answered. "From various bits of evidence which came my way while I worked for Herman, I gathered that Jenny's child had been placed in the Glenhaven Orphan's Home under that name."
"I must say you have shown a distinct talent for detective work," Mr. Nichols told her dryly. "You sent the anonymous letter to Michael at that address. Then what happened?"
"Nothing. There was no reply. That's all I know of the matter."
"Mrs. Masterbrook, I think you can tell us a great deal more," said Penny quietly. "For instance when did you first meet the man who calls himself Walter Crocker."
"I don't know what you're talking about," stammered the housekeeper.
"Either you explain everything or we'll take you to the police station," interposed Mr. Nichols.
"All right, I'll tell you exactly what happened," Mrs. Masterbrook agreed after a long moment of thought. "The man is a lawyer—his name is Jay Kline."
"Mr. Madden's missing partner!" exclaimed the detective.
"I don't know anything about him being missing," said the housekeeper crossly. "But he's made me plenty of trouble. I wish I had never set eyes on him."
"Tell us how you came to meet Jay Kline," the detective ordered.
"It was this way. I waited months to hear from the letter which I sent to the Glenhaven Home. When none came I decided that Michael Gladwin must be dead. I saw no reason in that case why I shouldn't profit a little myself. After all, I worked like a slave for Old Herman and he never paid me a living wage! I took the letters to a city law firm."
"So Mr. Madden is mixed up in this affair too?" asked the detective.
"I don't know anything about him," replied the housekeeper. "I met only Jay Kline. He told me to leave everything to him and that he would force Old Herman to pay me a good sum to get the letters back again."
"There is an ugly name for that sort of thing," said Mr. Nichols. "Blackmail."
"I only meant to make Herman pay me a hundred dollars."
"The principle was exactly the same. I judge that Jay Kline being an unscrupulous rascal took matters out of your hands."
"Yes, the next thing I knew he came here and pawned himself off as Walter Crocker. I tried to make him go away but he wouldn't. I didn't mean to do wrong, Mr. Nichols. You'll not send me to jail, will you?"
"That remains to be seen," replied the detective tersely. "For the time being you are to remain here in the cottage. Talk with no one."
"Yes, sir," murmured the housekeeper meekly.
The detective did not bother to tell the woman that Michael Gladwin and Michael Haymond were the same individual for he felt that the less she knew the easier it would be to carry out a plan which was forming in his mind.
Penny had supposed that her father would go directly to Herman Crocker, confronting him with the evidence. Instead, Mr. Nichols bided his time. He held several conferences with the Kendon police force.
During his frequent absences from the cottage, Penny, Susan and Michael were left to keep watch of Mrs. Masterbrook. The housekeeper was never allowed to talk with anyone by telephone or to greet persons who chanced to come to the door. While she had given her promise not to disclose anything, Mr. Nichols preferred to take no chance.
"This is the set-up," he told Penny as they held secret session. "I have arranged so that Jay Kline mysteriously recovered his package of letters——"
"But Dad——"
"It is the only way to trap him, Penny. With the letters in his possession, he'll meet Herman Crocker tonight by the footbridge. When Crocker pays over the hush money, police will arrest them both."
"I'd love to see the big roundup," said Penny eagerly.
"You shall," Mr. Nichols promised. "You've earned the right."
That night long before the appointed hour, Penny, her father and several plain-clothes men were waiting in the bushes for the arrival of Kline and Herman Crocker.
Jay Kline was the first to reach the footbridge. He appeared to be very nervous and smoked one cigarette after another. Now and then he would light a match and glance at his watch.
After a fifteen minute wait Herman Crocker's car was heard coming down the road. The automobile stopped some distance from the bridge, and Penny, who had keen eyes, saw that the old man had brought his grandson with him. However, he left the boy in the car and came toward the bridge alone.
"Well, did you bring the money?" asked Jay Kline.
"I could raise only half the sum you demanded," the old man whined. "You have the letters with you?"
Jay Kline produced the packet.
"Oh, no you don't," he laughed as Herman tried to take the letters from him. "You'll get them only when you've paid over all the money."
"I'll give you what I have. Don't be too hard on me."
At a nod from Mr. Nichols, the plain-clothes men stepped from the bushes surrounding the pair.
"Tricked!" shouted Jay Kline.
Believing that Old Herman had betrayed him to the police, he struck savagely at the man and then brushing past one of the officers, ran down the ravine. Two policemen took after him and soon dragged him back. Herman Crocker had not attempted to escape.
"Take Kline down to Kendon," Mr. Nichols ordered tersely. "I'll look after Crocker myself."
"You've nothing on me," the old man muttered. "I was being blackmailed, that's all."
"It's no use trying to put up a front," the detective told him. "We know everything. This man was a blackmailer right enough, but the real Walter Crocker has a just claim to a large portion of your estate. A more serious matter is that you are wanted for the robbery of the Kirmenbach residence."
"I'm wanted for what?" gasped the old man.
"You are under suspicion for stealing a diamond necklace."
Until this moment Herman Crocker had been calm and quiet, but suddenly he flew into a violent rage, denying any part in the robbery.
"It's nothing but a frame-up!" he shouted.
"Maybe I did keep money that wasn't mine, but I never broke into anyone's house in all my life!"
"Did you or did you not have a toy lantern in your house?" asked Mr. Nichols.
"A toy lantern?" the old man repeated. "Perry had one I guess. He lost it and found it again."
"It happens that Perry's toy lantern was discovered at the scene of the robbery. Perhaps you can explain that."
"I don't know anything about it," said Old Herman dully. "That's the truth."
"We'll see what Perry has to say about it," returned Mr. Nichols. "Come along."
He led the old man back to the automobile where the boy was waiting.
"Perry," said the detective kindly, "do you remember a toy lantern which Mr. Turner gave you the other day?"
"He didn't give it to me," the lad corrected. "It was mine."
"You had lost it?" Mr. Nichols prompted. "Do you recall how long ago you missed the lantern?"
"It was the night Walter Crocker came to see my grandfather," Perry answered instantly. "I was playing with it then and I think maybe I dropped it into his pocket."
"You put the toy lantern into Walter Crocker's coat pocket?" the detective asked in amazement. "Why did you do that?"
"I don't know," answered Perry with a shrug. "I guess I thought he might sit down on it and the glass would go bang! That would have been funny."
"I take it that Walter didn't discover the lantern in his pocket?"
"No, he went off in a hurry and I couldn't even get my toy back."
"This puts an entirely different light on the matter," said Mr. Nichols, speaking slowly. "If Perry is telling the truth, then probably Jay Kline went off without suspecting that the lantern was in his coat. He may have pulled the Kirmenbach job."
"And the toy lantern probably fell from his pocket while he was working at the wall safe," Penny added eagerly. "Can we prove it, Dad?"
"It may be possible to make Kline confess," the detective replied. "I'll go down to Kendon right away and question him."
With Herman Crocker in custody there was no one to look after Perry, so Penny took the lad back to her cottage. He was tucked into bed with no inkling of the unfortunate fate which had befallen his grandfather.
Penny and Susan sat up until late awaiting the return of Mr. Nichols from Kendon. He came in around midnight and the girls saw at once that he was highly elated.
"Well, Penny, you've won the reward!" he called out gaily.
"Not really!" exclaimed Penny.
"Yes, the case is closed," Mr. Nichols declared, "and Kirmenbach's reward will go to you."
"Tell us all about it," pleaded Penny eagerly.
"Jay Kline broke down and admitted everything. He committed the Kirmenbach robbery and several others as well. However, it was a shock to him when he learned that his conviction came about through Perry's toy lantern. He never dreamed it was in his coat."
"What will become of Herman Crocker?" Penny inquired.
"He has agreed to turn over the major part of his estate to the rightful heir—Michael."
"Will he be sent to prison, Dad?"
"That hasn't been determined, but I imagine he may escape a sentence. However, in any case, Perry is to be taken from him and turned over to someone who will give him better care."
"I'm glad of that," said Penny. "Did Herman offer any reason for doing what he did?"
"Only that he hoped to keep the fortune for himself. Then too, it seems he wished to pass it on to his own grandson, Perry. You remember he was the child of Herman's daughter, Ella—the only person whom the old man ever loved."
"Yet he mistreated Perry."
"In a way, yes, but he probably thought more of the boy than any other living person."
"And what is to become of Mrs. Masterbrook?" Penny questioned, lowering her voice.
"I didn't bring her name into the case at all. At heart I doubt that the woman is bad—she is merely a natural born trouble maker. As far as I'm concerned she's free to go on living in this community. I imagine she has learned her lesson."
"There's no question that Michael will get the money, Dad?"
"Not the slightest. And he'll owe all his good fortune to you, Penny. Come to think of it, I owe you quite a bit myself."
"You?" asked Penny, smiling.
"Yes, you practically solved my case for me," declared the detective. "Not to mention digging up one of your own."
"I had good fun doing it," laughed Penny. Then her face fell. "I suppose now that all the mystery is solved we'll be going back home again."
"We'll certainly pack up and leave this place," answered Mr. Nichols. "But we're not starting for home."
"Then where are we going?" asked Penny in surprise.
"I don't know," replied Mr. Nichols, smiling broadly, "but it will be to some nice quiet place where I can have a vacation."