Rounding the corner at the end of the street, Penny paused to catch her breath. It had been foolish to run away. She realized that now. But she had acted impulsively, without thinking.

She thought hopefully that Hanley Cron might not have recognized her. She was certain he had not seen her face.

Penny walked slowly home. She was as bewildered as ever regarding the identity of the mysterious agent who had sold Mrs. Dillon the Rembrandt. It might have been the first caller or perhaps Hanley Cron.

Yet Penny smiled as she considered the latter possibility. Cron held an enviable position with a newspaper, he was highly respected in art circles, and besides, was a special friend of Mrs. Dillon. It seemed far more likely that he had merely dropped in to pay a casual afternoon call.

Penny wondered if she had acted wisely in talking so frankly with the society woman. Mrs. Dillon, fearful of arrest, had agreed to communicate with the museum authorities, but would she keep her promise? Penny could only wait and hope that she had acted for the best.

It was nearing the dinner hour when she reached home. Mr. Nichols, whose hobby was gardening, rested on his hoe as his daughter came up the stepping stone path. She thought he looked worried and spoke of it.

“I am worried,” the detective confessed. “Some confounded new fangled bug is eating up all my choice aster plants. Just look at this one. Riddled with holes as if it had been peppered with a machine gun!”

Penny laughed as she bent down to pick a bouquet of flowers for the dinner table.

“You ought to be able to solve a simple case like that,” she teased.

“I’ve already sprayed the plants with everything I can think of. It’s disgusting!”

Penny was not especially interested in insects, and began to question her father about the office robbery.

“Nothing valuable was stolen so far as Miss Arrow and I could determine,” he informed. “The office was pretty thoroughly torn up, but apparently the thief didn’t get the thing he was after.”

“Have you any idea what that was, Dad?”

“Not the slightest. Papers of some sort, I suppose.”

“Did you find any leading clues?”

“Nothing of consequence. The fingerprints were worthless for the thief wore gloves. Would you like to have the case, Penny?”

“No thanks. I’ve involved myself in enough trouble as it is. You may not like what I’ve done, Dad.”

“And just what have you done?” the detective asked with twinkling eyes.

Penny gave a detailed account of her interview with Mrs. Dillon. Mr. Nichols frowned thoughtfully, but did not chide her.

“You made a bold attack, Penny,” he commented, “but perhaps no harm has been done. However, after this I must ask you not to do anything about the matter without consulting me. You see, I’ve taken the jewel theft case for the Insurance Company and I can’t afford to antagonize Mrs. Dillon until I learn whether she is involved in a plot to obtain fifteen thousand dollars under false pretenses.”

“You and Mrs. Dillon didn’t part upon such friendly terms the last time you met,” Penny reminded him with a smile.

“No, that’s true.”

“By the way, Dad, Mrs. Dillon requested me to offer you her apology. It seems she has just learned that her husband did insure the pearl necklace with the Reliance Company. He neglected to tell her about it.”

“Oh, I see,” Mr. Nichols commented dryly. “Well, I’ll talk with her tomorrow.”

Penny had finished picking the bouquet of flowers and was walking toward the house, when the detective called her back.

“Just a minute. I learned something today which may interest you.”

Penny halted, waiting expectantly.

“It’s about that new friend of yours.”

“Amy Coulter?” Penny inquired eagerly.

“Yes, the police have traced her to that new rooming house where you tell me she’s staying. She’ll probably be arrested sometime tonight.”

“Oh, Dad! Amy has done nothing wrong. Why can’t the police leave her alone?”

“It strikes me they are making a mistake in this case.”

“Of course they are. Oh, Dad, can’t I warn Amy?”

“It’s probably too late now.”

“Perhaps not. Let me try at least.”

Mr. Nichols had anticipated such a request. He did not believe in assisting a fugitive from justice, yet unknown to Penny he had investigated Amy Coulter, and was inclined to feel that she was innocent of the charge against her.

“All right, if you like,” he assented. “But if you see that the house is watched, have the good sense not to go in.”

“I’ll be careful,” Penny promised. “Tell Mrs. Gallup not to wait dinner for me.”

Mr. Nichols opened the garage doors for her and closed them again after she had backed the car to the street.

Penny parked a half block from Amy Coulter’s rooming house. She walked slowly past the place, carefully glancing about. No one was in sight and she doubted that the building was being watched.

Entering, she ran up the stairway to her friend’s room, rapping sharply on the door.

“Who is there?” Amy asked.

“It’s I Penny. Let me in.”

Instantly the door was flung open. “I was afraid it might be the police,” Amy confessed, laughing nervously.

“That’s why I came,” Penny informed, closing the door behind her. “They have traced you here.”

“The police?”

“Yes, you must leave at once.”

“But where can I go? I have no friends and very little money.”

It occurred to Penny to mention that she had seen Amy accept payment from the museum workman, Hoges, but she refrained from doing so. Instead, she examined the contents of her purse.

“I can’t take money from you,” Amy said.

“But you’ll need it.”

“I’ll have enough to keep me for a few days. But I don’t know where to go.”

“You must find a new rooming house. I’ll help you pack.”

“But I can’t leave tonight,” Amy protested weakly.

“You must! Unless you do, the police will surely catch you.”

“It’s after six o’clock. How can I get my trunk moved?”

“You must abandon your trunk,” Penny advised. “I’ll help you pack your bags.”

Amy gazed disconsolately about the room at the many art objects and trinkets that she loved.

“After the trouble blows over you can come back for your things,” Penny said.

“But will it ever clear up?” Amy asked hopelessly. “It might be better to stay and face it.”

“If you can prove your innocence ”

“I can’t prove anything,” Amy responded. “No, you’re right. I must remain in hiding until the thief is captured.”

Penny had begun to gather up clothing. “Where are your bags?” she asked. “There’s no time to lose.”

“Under the bed,” Amy answered.

She ran to the closet and jerked her dresses from the hangers. Penny crossed the room to pick up a sweater which had been tossed into a chair. As she moved past the table which Amy used as a writing desk she noticed a stamped, sealed envelope lying there.

Unintentionally, Penny glanced at the name and address. It read:

“Mr. George Hoges, General Delivery, Belton City.”

For a moment Penny stared at the letter. The scene which she had witnessed in the park came back to her. Why should Amy and the ex-museum worker have business together? The next instant she was heartily ashamed of her suspicion, yet she could not let the matter pass without speaking of it.

“Amy,” she called.

“Yes.” The girl emerged from the closet with a pile of dresses in her arms.

“I don’t mean to be prying,” Penny said awkwardly, “but I couldn’t help seeing this letter.”

A faint flush crept over Amy’s face. She questioned defiantly: “What about it?”

“Nothing,” Penny answered shortly. If Amy did not feel like explaining, she could not bring herself to ask.

In silence the girls continued their packing Presently Amy picked up the letter and thrust it into her pocketbook.

“I guess I’m ready,” she announced.

They each took a bag and started down the stairway. But as they reached the lower landing, Penny abruptly halted, warning her companion to keep back.

“What is it?” Amy whispered.

Penny indicated a man who was standing on the opposite side of the street, loitering in the doorway of a bakery shop.

“A detective from police headquarters! I’ve seen him at the station.”

Hastily the girls retreated back up the stairs to the bedroom. Amy flung herself into a chair.

“It’s useless trying to escape,” she murmured. “I may as well give myself up.”

Penny went to the window and looked out. The bedroom opened over an alley and she was elated to see that it had a fire escape. No one was in sight.

“You still have a chance, Amy,” she urged, “but you must hurry.”

“Thank you for everything you have done to help me,” the girl murmured gratefully, moving to the window which Penny had opened for her. “I’ll never forget it.”

“I’ve done nothing,” Penny replied, assisting her to climb over the sill. “Can you manage both bags?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Will you let me know the address of your new rooming house, Amy?”

“Yes, of course. I have no idea now where I’ll go. I may not escape at all.”

“Keep to the alley,” Penny advised. “Good-bye and good luck.”

She stood watching from the window while Amy descended the fire escape to enter the alley. The girl waved her hand reassuringly and vanished.

Penny closed the window and straightened up the room so that there would be no appearance of sudden flight. She wondered if she had done right to help Amy escape the police.

She felt troubled because the girl had failed to explain why she had written to Mr. Hoges. Yet the letter provided Penny with a valuable clue.

“Undoubtedly, the man told Amy to address him in care of General Delivery,” she thought. “That means he’ll call there for his mail. If I keep watch I may locate him.”

Since the day Penny had encountered the museum workman at the Gage Galleries, she had held to the theory that the man had something to do with the mysterious disappearance of the priceless Rembrandt. It had been her firm belief that if she apprehended Mr. Hoges for questioning, the establishment of his own guilt would result in Amy’s exoneration. But now that she had learned the two were friends, she did not know what to think. Certainly Amy’s association with the man did not tend to point to her own innocence.

“I’ll not help the girl again unless she reveals everything concerning her connection with Hoges,” Penny decided. “From now on matters must take their own course.”

Leaving the bedroom, she went downstairs and out the front door. The watchful detective was still stationed across the street, but Penny was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she cast only a casual glance in his direction.

She had walked a short distance down the street, when she felt a firm pressure on her arm.

“Just a minute, young lady!”

Penny whirled around to find herself face to face with the police detective.