“Stay where you are!” commanded the young man sternly.

He seized the stick from Penny’s hand and used it to beat off the dog. Rudy showed very little fight. When he felt the sting of the switch he ran off whining toward the barn.

Penny picked herself up and dusted off her linen dress.

“Thank you, Michael,” she said soberly.

“It wasn’t anything,” the young man replied. “The dog is mostly bluff.”

“He bluffs too realistically to suit me,” Penny returned ruefully.

“You’re not hurt?”

“No, the dog knocked me over but his teeth missed me. I’m glad you happened to be here at the right time, Michael.”

“So am I.”

The young man glanced quickly at Penny and then looked away. He seemed to realize that she was expecting him to offer an explanation for his presence at the Crocker place.

The thought had occurred to Penny, but in view of the service which Michael had rendered, she decided not to question him. Instead she graciously introduced the young man to Susan.

“Since Mr. Crocker isn’t at home we may as well be walking back to the cottage,” Penny remarked after the three had chatted for a moment. “Rudy may muster his courage and take after me again.”

“I’ll go along with you,” said Michael falling into step with the girls. “I came to see Herman Crocker too.”

Neither Penny nor Susan offered any comment. They were quite sure that the young man had been crouching behind the hedge. They believed that he had observed Mr. Crocker drive away, and they thought that probably he had been watching their own movements.

During the walk back to the cottage, the girls chatted pleasantly with Michael. Susan, unaware that the young man had been uncommunicative regarding his past history, began to ask him casual questions about his home town.

“You were born in the west, Penny tells me,” she commented.

“That’s right,” the young man agreed uneasily.

“I’d never have suspected it,” Susan went on. “You don’t talk like a westerner. Did you live on a ranch?”

Michael shook his head. He hesitated and then said in a low tone:

“I spent most of my early life in an orphan’s home. It was a place called Glenhaven.”

“Why, there’s a Home in this state by that name!” cried Penny.

“Well, that’s certainly odd,” replied Michael, avoiding her gaze. “But I suppose Glenhaven is a common name.”

“Tell us more about yourself,” urged Susan.

“There’s nothing to tell. I don’t know very much about my parents. I was just turned over to the Home until I was eighteen years of age. I worked hard there but I was well treated. Then I left and got a job in a factory, but times turned hard and I was laid off. That about brings me up to date.”

Penny thought: “But it doesn’t explain why you came to Kendon to see Herman Crocker.” However, her serene countenance gave no hint that she doubted any of Michael’s story.

Alone in Penny’s bedroom, the girls discussed the young man.

“I like him a great deal,” said Susan.

“And so do I,” Penny agreed, “but that doesn’t alter facts. I feel certain he’s not telling us a straightforward story. He may have been born in the west but I believe he’s spent a great deal of his life right herein this state.”

“What makes you think so, Penny?”

“Because in talking with him I’ve noticed that he’s always well versed in local history and state politics. And another thing I doubt that Glenhaven is a common name for an orphan’s home.”

“He did act embarrassed about that.”

“Do you want to know what I think?” asked Penny earnestly. “I suspect Michael Haymond spent most of his life in the Glenhaven Home which is in this state not out west.”

“But why should he try to hide the fact?”

“I couldn’t guess. It’s remotely possible he’s been mixed up in trouble, but Michael seems like a decent sort.”

“If we were really prying we could write to the Glenhaven officials,” Susan said slowly.

“I don’t consider it prying to try to find out more about the man,” returned Penny. “A good detective always investigates every angle of a case. I could send a letter off tonight only it will take so long to get a reply.”

“A week at best, I’d judge.”

“Glenhaven isn’t far from here!” Penny cried. “Let’s drive over there tomorrow. I think Dad would let me have the car if he doesn’t need it himself.”

“Why, I’d enjoy the trip,” Susan declared promptly.

“We could start early and take our lunch,” Penny planned enthusiastically.

When Mr. Nichols came home she asked him if they might use the car the following day. The detective readily agreed. He was delighted that Susan had arrived to visit Penny for he felt that the girls would have an enjoyable time together.

“Any news about your toy lantern?” Penny asked her father teasingly.

“None worth mentioning,” the detective replied. “I’m getting a little discouraged.”

“Don’t hesitate to call upon me if you need my sleuthing services,” Penny laughed. “I’m doing very well with my own case.”

Early the next morning Penny and Susan set off for Glenhaven, telling no one save Mr. Nichols of their destination. They did not wish either Mrs. Masterbrook or Michael to gain an inkling of their mission.

Noon found the girls within view of the orphan’s home. It was a private institution and from the outside at least, a pleasant looking place. The brick building had several long wings and there was a wide expanse of bent grass lawn.

“Did you ever see such a beautiful yard?” asked Susan admiringly. “It looks as smooth as a floor.”

“It’s almost too pretty,” said Penny. “I’d rather see the grass worn thin in places. Then I’d know that children had been playing on it instead of being cooped up inside.”

The girls turned in at the grounds and drove up to the front door. Upon asking to see the matron they were shown into Mrs. Barker’s office.

“What may I do for you?” the woman inquired pleasantly.

Under her intent scrutiny, Penny found it difficult to state her mission. She managed to say that she was trying to learn if an orphan named Michael Haymond had ever lived at the Home.

“One moment and I will see,” replied the matron.

She rang a bell and instructed an attendant to check over the institution records. In a short while the report came back. No person by the name of Michael Haymond had ever resided at the Glenhaven Home.

“It’s barely possible the young man took the name of Haymond after leaving the institution,” Penny said slowly. “I wonder if you would recognize him by description?”

“How long has he been away?” questioned the matron.

“I am only guessing but I should say at least two years.”

“Then I’d not remember him. You see I took charge of the Glenhaven Home only nine months ago. The person for you to see is Mrs. Havers. She was matron here for over twenty years.”

“Do you know where I could find her?” inquired Penny.

“I will give you her address.” Mrs. Barker reached for pencil and paper.

“Does she live close by?” Penny asked.

“Yes, only a short distance away in the town of Ferndale. Mrs. Havers left her duties here upon account of serious illness, but I understand she is considerably improved now.”

Penny thanked the matron and accepting the slip of paper, left the institution in company with Susan. Outside the building the girls paused to consider their next move.

“It shouldn’t take us long to find Mrs. Havers,” Penny declared. “Let’s go to her place.”

“All right, we have plenty of time,” Susan agreed. “Only it looks useless because if Michael had ever lived here his name would have been on the records.”

“Yes, unless he changed his name,” Penny admitted, “but let’s go anyway.”

The girls drove on to the town of Ferndale and had little difficulty in locating the address given them by Mrs. Barker. They were admitted to an overly heated brick cottage by an elderly woman with white hair and kind gray eyes. The living room was so warm and stuffy that Penny had trouble in breathing but Mrs. Havers apparently did not notice.

“You wish to see me concerning a former inmate of the Glenhaven Home?” the old lady asked after Penny and Susan had stated their mission. “I’ll be glad to answer any of your questions.”

“We are trying to trace a young man by the name of Michael Haymond,” Penny explained. “Would you remember him?”

“I have never forgotten a single child who was ever placed under my care,” replied Mrs. Havers with a smile. “But I am certain that no one by that name ever lived at the Home.”

“Then I am afraid we were mistaken in our facts,” Penny said in disappointment.

“You are sure you have the right name?”

“Why, I think so,” Penny replied doubtfully.

“The reason I ask is that we did have an orphan by the name of Michael in our institution,” Mrs. Havers declared reflectively. “He was one of my favorites. There was some mystery about his parentage, but he seemed to come from a good family.”

“Do you recall his full name?” Penny questioned.

“Oh, yes, it was Michael Gladwin.”

“That sounds a trifle like Haymond,” Susan commented.

“Michael was brought to the institution when he was two years old,” Mrs. Havers recalled. “His parents had been killed in an auto accident we were told, but while the facts were officially recorded, I always doubted the story.”

“May I ask why you doubted it?” Penny inquired.

“I consider myself a fairly good judge of character,” Mrs. Havers replied. “The man who brought Michael to our home was a very peculiar person. He claimed to be no relation to the boy, yet he had taken a deep liking to him and was willing to pay for his keep at the institution.”

“That would seem very generous,” Penny remarked.

“So I thought. From his appearance, one would never suspect that the man had such a character.”

“Didn’t you investigate him?” asked Susan.

“It is not the policy of the Glenhaven Home to probe deeply into the parentage of the children placed there,” Mrs. Havers replied. “Babies left on our doorstep receive the same treatment as those brought by parents unable to keep their offsprings. In this case, the man paid Michael’s way for five years in advance.”

“After that I suppose you never heard from him again?” Penny inquired.

“To the contrary, money came regularly for ten years. However, during that period, no one ever visited the boy.”

“Can you tell us the name of the person who brought Michael to the Home?” Penny questioned.

“It has slipped my mind for the moment. Let me see the name began with a K. It seems to me it was Keenan or very similar. The money always came from a place by the name of Fairfax.”

“What became of Michael?” inquired Susan curiously.

“He lived at the Home until he was eighteen years of age,” Mrs. Havers answered. “Then we found a position for him. After that our record ceases.”

“Did you never make any attempt to trace the boy’s parentage?” Penny asked thoughtfully.

“Yes, a number of years ago I wrote to Fairfax. It was a strange thing the letter was never answered. And from that day, funds ceased to come for Michael’s support.”

“It appeared as if the man who had been paying for the boy’s keep feared an investigation,” Penny commented.

“Yes, that is what I thought. I would have probed deeper into the matter but at that time I was taken ill. I went to a hospital for over a year, then I resumed my duties, only to give them up again a few months ago.”

Mrs. Havers began to talk of her own ailments and the girls had little opportunity to ask additional questions about Michael.

“I am sorry that I’ve not been able to help you,” the woman said regretfully as she escorted the girls to the door. “Of course the Michael of my story has no connection with the young man you are trying to trace.”

“Probably not,” Penny agreed. “Thank you for giving us so much of your time.”

When the door had closed behind them, she turned eagerly to her chum.

“Susan, I didn’t like to say so in front of Mrs. Havers, but why couldn’t Michael Haymond and Michael Gladwin be the same person?”

“Michael is a common name.”

“Yes, but many of the facts in Michael Haymond’s life dovetail with those told us by Mrs. Havers.”

“There may be a slight similarity,” Susan acknowledged. “But we can never prove anything.”

Penny stared at her chum for an instant. Then her face relaxed into a broad smile.

“Susan, I have a dandy idea!” she cried. “Fairfax isn’t far from here. Let’s drive there right now and see if we can’t locate that mysterious Mr. Keenan!”