Joan Clark

“ Mrs. Dillon replied firmly. "This gentleman's reputation is above reproach. He couldn't have known any more than I did that the Rembrandt was a fake."
"The only thing for you to do now is to reveal everything," Penny urged. "Tell me the name of this man."
"No, I can't. I have promised to keep silent."
"Mrs. Dillon, I am unable to understand your attitude. Don't you want to help capture the persons who tricked you?"
"Yes, I'll do anything I can except reveal this gentleman's identity. I'll learn from him the name of the firm where the picture was bought and notify the police." ”

“ I had no other reason."
"You didn't like the Black Imp well enough to award it a prize," Amy cried indignantly. "You have a very good reason for reproducing the statue—perhaps you intend to put it to commercial use!"
"You flatter yourself, Miss Coulter. The statue has no value commercially or otherwise."
"You have no right to copy it," Amy insisted, with increasing anger. "The Black Imp is solely my work."
Before either Hanley Cron or Penny guessed the girl's intention, she darted across the room and snatched the little figure from the pedestal. ”

“ Penny looked sharply at Mrs. Dillon. The woman seemed so earnest that it was difficult to believe she was deliberately telling a falsehood. Yet the incident of the painting already had given the girl a clue as to Mrs. Dillon's character. If the woman knowingly would purchase a stolen picture was it not reasonable to suppose that she would feel no qualms at cheating an insurance company?
In the hope of gaining a little information, Penny casually brought up the subject of the Rembrandt, but Mrs. Dillon immediately became secretive. She would not talk of the picture even in a general way. ”

“ Dillon maintained loyally, "but I did not depend entirely upon his opinion. I am a very good judge of pictures myself."
"Has it occurred to you that possibly you did not receive the same painting which you purchased? I understand that sometimes art thieves prey upon innocent buyers by showing them a genuine picture and then delivering into their hands only a cheap copy."
"I am too shrewd to be so easily duped," Mrs. Dillon retorted. "I don't mind telling you that I protected myself against just such trickery." ”

“ You are the person who stole the Rembrandt from the Gage Galleries! You're a cheap trickster who pawns himself off as a gentleman!"
As she uttered the tirade, the girl made a quick dive for the door, but Max Lynch caught her by the arm and flung her back.
"Not so fast, Miss Nichols," he muttered. "This is once when you won't go tattling to the police or to that father of yours!"
The discovery of Penny hiding in the closet had brought an abrupt end to the quarrel. In the face of the new emergency, the four crooks laid differences aside to consider what must be done. ”

“ As the girl's gaze wandered to the statue, Cron became slightly confused. Picking up a dark cloth from the floor he covered the mass of clay, endeavoring to make the action appear casual.
Penny was not to be deceived. She instantly divined that the art critic did not wish her to see his work. But she had caught a glimpse of the statue. She had seen enough to know that Hanley Cron was making a copy of the Black Imp—Amy Coulter's entry in the Huddleson prize contest! ”

“ True, she had the Rembrandt as evidence, but it might be difficult to prove that the four men had been involved in the theft. They had painful recollections of other cases against Max Lynch which had dissolved like soap bubbles in a wind. The man had no equal at producing unexpected witnesses who for a sum of money would provide him with a complete alibi. His lawyer, employed at a yearly salary, was as clever as he was unscrupulous.
"Search the room," the police captain ordered. "The Dillon pearls must be here."
The men set about their task with system and thoroughness. ”

“ Penny realized that she had it within her power to expose Mrs. Dillon. Even though she were a guest in the society woman's home, it was really her duty to reveal her findings to the police.
From her hiding place behind the chair, Penny had not been able to secure a very good view of the painting. She was eager to examine it at close range.
Did she dare open the panel? She decided to take the chance. Jerking at the long silken rope as she had seen Mrs. Dillon do, the girl was gratified to observe the sham picture above the mantel swing slowly back to reveal the hidden panel. ”

“ Penny said in some surprise. "Don't you consider Amy Coulter a good sculptress?"
"Only moderately so. The girl works hard and is pathetically ambitious, but it takes more than that to win a prize."
"You seem to know Miss Coulter well," Penny remarked.
"Yes, indeed. I might call myself her best friend."
"Are you an artist?" Susan questioned. Before the other could respond, a nicely dressed woman paused for a moment to admire the Black Imp.
"You are to be congratulated, Miss Coulter," she said, addressing the girl. "Your work has power. It deserves to win the prize." ”

“ Now as she entered her father's office, it did not occur to Penny that she had embarked upon a new adventure. She perched herself on the corner of the desk and swiftly gave an account not only of the daring theft at the art museum, but of her unpleasant meeting with Hanley Cron. Mr. Nichols was deeply interested in the details of the theft.
"A Rembrandt," he whistled softly. "That painting must represent quite a tidy sum of money." ”

“ From below she heard a loud clanging, and the shrill whistle of a fire siren. New hope surged over her. Perhaps the firemen who had arrived upon the scene would reach her in time!
"Even if they shoot a ladder up to the window they'll never think anyone could be tied up in the closet," she reasoned. "If I'm to escape, it will be from my own efforts."
Penny knew that the fire was rapidly spreading, for she could hear a steady roar which rapidly grew louder. The closet was so warm that she found difficulty in breathing. She could plainly smell smoke. ”

“ Upon the other hand, the society woman was an important personage of Belton City with many influential friends, and should she be falsely arrested the trouble would descend like an avalanche upon the head of Penny Nichols.
"I'll have to move cautiously," the girl reflected. "It's no crime to own a copy of a stolen painting. If this picture is a fake, the police would have no case against Mrs. Dillon." ”

“ Your old Dad can take care of himself."
Penny sighed as she followed her father to the elevator. She knew that she should dismiss the matter from her mind yet that was exactly what she could not do. Ever since she could remember Mr. Nichols had lived a dangerous life. He had trailed and captured daring criminals and during his lengthy career, first as a police officer and later as a private detective, had received many threats. Several times he had escaped violence by a narrow margin. Usually Penny did not worry, but Max Lynch had impressed her as a man who would seek retaliation. ”

“ The detectives glanced curiously at Penny as they came up the steps to the rooming house but failed to notice that she lingered by the street curbing to learn what had brought them to the scene. They rang the bell and the door was opened almost instantly by the landlady.
"You may as well go away," she began irately, then paused in confusion. "Oh, I beg your pardon. I thought it was someone else."
The plain clothes men flashed their badges and then inquired if Amy Coulter resided at the house.
"You're not the first that's asked for her," the woman informed. ”

“ The gambler continued to smile blandly, refusing to take offense. "I admit I've never hired you on a job of my own," he said. "But many a time a guy has said to me 'Who is the best private dick in town?' and I says 'Chris Nichols,' just like that. It has brought you some nice jobs."
"I don't believe I've ever taken any case through your influence, Max Lynch. But that's neither here nor there. What's on your mind?"
The gambler moved forward in his chair.
"Well, Nichols, it's like this. Dutch O'Neil is in the jug for pasting a dude customer of mine over at my casino last night. ”

“ Susan said, slightly in awe.
"Perhaps that's because I'm not famous."
"You will be after the prize award is announced," Penny assured her. "Everyone is saying your entry is the best."
"I do think the Black Imp is good," the girl admitted slowly. "Of course I was only joking about it a moment ago. I've labored over it for months and it's my best work. I'm hoping—almost praying that I'll win the prize. The money would mean everything to me."
Before either Penny or Susan could speak, an elderly woman clapped her hands sharply together to attract attention. ”

“ They were nearing the downtown business section when Penny halted and pretended to gaze into the plate glass window of a large department store.
"Amy, I think we're being followed!" she announced in a low tone. "Don't look around."
"What makes you think so?" Amy inquired skeptically.
"Ever since we left the park a man has been trailing us."
"Are you sure?"
"Every time we stop he does too. I can see his reflection now in the plate glass. He's pretending to be looking into that jewelry store window but he's really watching us." ”

“ Penny tried to pass the time by examining the many gadgets with which the great truck was equipped. She imagined that it might be loads of fun to drive such a powerful machine.
Suddenly her attention was arrested by an automobile which with a shrill screeching of brakes came to a halt in front of the Dillon residence. A well-dressed middle-aged man, carrying a black leather brief case, got out of the car. ”

“ Penny halted the car on the driveway and the detective alighted to open the garage doors. She drove in and snapped off the ignition. Together she and her father walked up the stepping-stone path to the rear entrance of the house.
The Nichols' residence was not imposing in appearance but the well-shrubbed grounds gave it a home-like air. A grass tennis court occupied one part of the lot while the opposite side was devoted to Mrs. Gallup's flowers. Since the death of Penny's mother, the kindly woman had served as a faithful housekeeper. ”

“ Penny smiled. "You are only starting your career."
"I haven't been able to sell any of my work. I am getting very discouraged. I had hoped to win the five thousand dollar Huddleson prize, but I failed."
"You should have won," Penny declared loyally. "Your entry was by far the best."
"The judge didn't think so."
"Who is Hanley Cron anyhow?" Penny scoffed. "Just a newspaper art critic! Do you consider him an authority?"
"No, I don't," Amy returned. "It was rather odd that he was named judge of such an important contest." ”

“ A half block away she noticed a large truck parked along the curbing. The vehicle had been abandoned, a cracked-up front wheel giving mute evidence that it had been in an accident. The truck was of the closed cab type and it dawned upon Penny that if she could get inside, she would have a perfect observation post.
Luckily the cab of the truck had not been locked and she slipped into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut.
An hour passed. The job of watching Mrs. Dillon's house became irksome. No one had called except a peddler and a delivery boy from a laundry. ”

“ Hoges said hastily, "but in return we expect a split on the pearl necklace."
"That was a deal between Cron and me."
The argument waxed hotter, the men's voices rising until Hanley Cron feared they could be heard outside.
"Pipe down," he ordered. "Do you want to bring the police? The important thing now is to get away from here before we're caught. Why not split everything four ways and no hard feelings?"
"Okay," Lynch growled. "We divide even. Where are the pearls?" ”

“ The housekeeper began to open bureau drawers, for despite Penny's words she was not entirely convinced that the girl had left the statue on the desk. Penny often misplaced cherished possessions only to spend an unhappy hour trying to recall where she had deposited them.
"It's no use to search, Mrs. Gallup," she wailed disconsolately. "The Black Imp is gone and will never be found." ”

“ 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. ”

“ Dillon's possession doesn't prove anything," Mr. Nichols replied as he pushed aside his coffee cup. "The painting may be a fake. Or if it's genuine this girl may have been one of a gang who negotiated the deal with Mrs. Dillon."
"If you met Amy you'd understand that she isn't the criminal type, Dad."
"And just what is the criminal type? Give me a definition."
Penny threw down her napkin impatiently. "Oh, there's no use arguing with you! You always win!"
"I'm not suggesting that your friend Amy is a crook," the detective smiled. ”

“ Penny chuckled softly and drew up at the rear entrance of the Gage Galleries. The street was crowded with fine limousines, but after searching for a minute or two the girls found a parking place.
"We're late," Penny announced. "Let's go in the back way. It will save time."
They entered the rear door. Hurrying along the dark corridor, intent only upon finding the main exhibition room, they did not observe a uniformed attendant who was approaching from the opposite direction bearing a canvas covered painting. The girls ran into him. ”

“ They had been shown the original stolen Rembrandt, but when invited to place an identifying mark on the back of the canvas to insure that they received the same picture, actually signed the fake copy. It was then a simple matter to remove the two paintings from the frame and send the customer the worthless one which bore his mark.
"Cron and his confederates have worked a fairly safe racket too," Penny thought. "Even if a customer learns he has been cheated, he's afraid to go to the police for fear he'll expose himself as a person willing to buy stolen property!" ”