Penny Nichols and the Knob Hill Mystery

by Joan Clark

  CHAPTER II

  Helping a Stranger

  Christopher Nichols saw for himself that the rumble seat was empty. Helooked quickly up and down the village street. Walter Crocker wasnowhere to be seen.

  "Well, that fellow certainly did a speedy disappearing act," thedetective commented. "We weren't inside the real estate office fiveminutes."

  "He might at least have thanked us for the ride," said Penny. "Dad, Isuppose you'll say this is silly, but I thought he acted as if he wereafraid we'd recognize him."

  "What made you think that?"

  "In the first place he insisted upon riding in the rumble seat. And hekept pulling his hat down over his eyes."

  "I'll agree he did act queerly," the detective admitted. "But he'sgone now, so we'll just forget about him."

  "Oh, all right," laughed Penny. "I keep forgetting that this is yourvacation."

  A well dressed gentleman in gray came walking leisurely down thestreet. He gazed curiously at Penny and her father, and theyimmediately guessed that he might be the missing Judd Kilkane.

  "You weren't looking for me by any chance?" the man asked.

  "We are if you're Mr. Kilkane," replied the detective.

  "That's my name all right. Come on into the office. I stepped out fora minute to buy an evening paper at the drugstore. Say, you're notNichols from Belton City?"

  "Yes," agreed the detective. "You rented me a cottage."

  "Old man Crocker's cottage," the real estate agent said as he openedthe office door. "I have the key for you."

  "Did I understand you to say we are renting the Crocker cottage?"questioned Mr. Nichols quickly.

  "Yes, it's owned by old Herman Crocker up on Knob Hill. Do you knowhim?"

  "Oh, I've merely heard his name mentioned," replied the detectivecarelessly.

  "I guess just about everyone has heard tell of Herman," chuckled thereal estate man. He sat down at his desk and motioned Penny and herfather into near-by chairs. "He's an eccentric character."

  "I trust that his cottage is at least habitable," said Mr. Nichols.

  Mr. Kilkane looked puzzled. Then his face lighted and he declaredheartily: "Oh, you'll find the place to your liking. There's nothingwrong with the cottage. If everything isn't perfectly satisfactoryI'll have Herman Crocker fix it right up for you."

  "And shall we pay our rent to him?"

  "No, I'll take care of that," replied the agent. "Herman said he'drather not have you coming to the house with the money. As I say, he'ssomething of a recluse."

  "We met his nephew this evening."

  "His nephew?" asked Mr. Kilkane raising his eyebrows. "That's a newone on me. I didn't know Herman had one. But then, he's closemouthed."

  "We gave this fellow a ride in our car," Mr. Nichols said. "Then hewent off somewhere. I suppose he's on his way to see his uncle."

  "Did you say that Herman Crocker's home is close to our cottage?"inquired Penny.

  "Yes, Miss. They're about a quarter of a mile apart on the Knob Hillroad."

  "Will we have many other neighbors?" asked the detective.

  "None at all," replied the agent, staring at him. "Oh, you'll find itlonely up on Knob Hill. But you said in your letter that you wanted aquiet, isolated place----"

  "That's right, Mr. Kilkane. I'm not complaining, merely inquiring.However, it might be wise for us to spend the night at a hotel and payour first visit to the cottage by daylight."

  The real estate agent tapped his pen against the desk and frowned.

  "We never had but one hotel here and it went out of business threeyears ago. I could put you up at my house----"

  "No, we don't wish to cause you any trouble," Mr. Nichols said quickly."Penny and I will just drive on to the cottage."

  "You can't miss the place," declared Mr. Kilkane eagerly. "I'll loanyou my lantern too."

  "Will we need a lantern?" gasped Penny.

  "Well, you might, Miss. The cottage is wired for electricity butsometimes the company is slow about getting it turned on."

  Penny and her father exchanged a quick glance but offered no comment.Mr. Nichols wrote out a check for the rent and in return received thekey to the cottage. Mr. Kilkane carried the lantern out to the car forthem and told Mr. Nichols how to reach the place.

  "Remember now," he said in parting, "if everything isn't right at thecottage, just let me know."

  Mr. Nichols drove through the village and turned up a dark, narrow roadwhich led to the summit of Knob Hill. The highway was densely linedwith tall trees whose branches crashed in the wind. Penny and herfather could see only a short distance beyond the headlights.

  "I don't see how you ever found such an isolated place as this, Dad,"Penny remarked as the car labored up the steep incline. "We'llpractically be hermits up here."

  "So much the better," laughed the detective.

  The car rounded a curve in the road, and Penny saw a large, ramblingold house with many cupolas, set back amid a grove of evergreen trees.

  "That must be Herman Crocker's home," she remarked, turning her head tostare at it. "A gloomy old place."

  "Young Walter Crocker had quite a walk if he came up here tonight,"said the detective. "Too bad he didn't wait. We could have hauled himright to his door."

  "I'm just as glad he went off," declared Penny. "Somehow I felt veryuneasy when he was riding with us."

  The car bumped on until Mr. Nichols saw a narrow lane leading to a tinycottage on a knoll.

  "This must be our little nest," he said, turning in.

  The cottage was a plain white frame building with a cobblestone chimneyovergrown by vines. Even at night the grounds appeared unkempt.Several loose shutters flapped in the wind.

  Penny and her father stepped from the car and stood staring at thecottage. The low whistle of the wind in the evergreens added to thedepressing effect.

  "How much rent are we paying for this mansion, Dad?"

  "Fifteen a week. But everything is supposed to be furnished."

  "Including cobwebs and atmosphere," laughed Penny. "Well, any sum forthis tumble-down, antiquated wreck would be robbery! Why, the cottagelooks as if it hadn't been occupied in a dozen years."

  "I may have been stung," the detective admitted ruefully. "But let'shope it's better inside."

  Mr. Nichols carried the suitcases up the weed-choked path. He fumbledin his pockets for the key and finally found it. Mr. Kilkane had toldthem to enter by the kitchen door.

  As it swung back on squeaking hinges, Penny and her father caught awhiff of stale air.

  "Just as I thought!" exclaimed Penny. "The place hasn't been opened upin weeks."

  Mr. Nichols passed through the doorway into the dark kitchen. Hegroped about for the electric light switch and could not find it.

  "Wait here," he told Penny. "I'll have to go back and get Mr.Kilkane's lantern."

  "I'll wait outside the door. It's too stuffy in here."

  Penny stood on the sagging porch until her father returned with thelighted lantern. The bright beam illuminated a wide circle of barrenkitchen. An old cook stove occupied one corner of the room; there wasa plain table with four chairs and a make-shift sink with old-fashionedpump. The floors were without carpet or linoleum. Every piece offurniture was covered by several inches of dust.

  "Wait until I see that man Kilkane!" said Mr. Nichols indignantly."Why, the electricity hasn't even been turned on. We can't live in aplace like this!"

  "Let's look at the other rooms, Dad."

  There was no dining room, as the builder evidently had intended thatthe occupants should eat in the kitchen. The living room had a largefireplace but no other item of comfort. The three chairs were allstraight-backed, the carpet was moth-eaten and dusty, and a small tablestill bore a vase filled with shriveled flowers which someone hadforgotten to throw away.

  "Come along, Penny," said Mr. Nichols starting toward the door. "We'llnot stay here."

  "But where will we
go?" Penny placed a detaining hand on his arm."There's no hotel in the village."

  "It would be more pleasant sleeping in the car."

  "You know we'd be stiff in every muscle if we tried that, Dad. Let'sopen a few windows. It won't seem so bad then."

  Mr. Nichols raised several windows and they were then able to breathemore freely. An inspection of the adjoining bedrooms left themsomewhat encouraged. The mattresses were fairly soft, and Penny foundclean linen in one of the bureau drawers.

  "I can have these beds made up in just a few minutes," she saidcheerfully. "And we can bring in our own blankets from the car."

  "Maybe that would be best," the detective agreed. "But we'll leave inthe morning."

  Penny was abroad at daybreak the next morning. While her father stillslept, she explored the grounds, discovering a deep and rather lovelyravine not far from the cottage door. To the right stretched a densewood and only a short distance on up the road was the summit of KnobHill.

  "This place really isn't half bad by daylight," she told herself. "Dadwould be certain to get a complete rest here."

  Penny went back into the house and set about cleaning up the kitchen.She had just finished the task when Mr. Nichols appeared in the doorway.

  "Are there any mirrors in this place?" he asked irritably. "I'd liketo know how I'm to get my whiskers cut off!"

  "Why not let them grow?" giggled Penny. "I think you'd look real cutewith a beard!"

  "Oh, you do?" demanded her father.

  "There's a looking glass over the sink," Penny told him. "And plentyof water if you like it cold."

  "Why not heat some on the stove?"

  "That would be a good idea," Penny admitted, "only I can't find anymatches. And apparently one is expected to cut down a tree for wood!"

  "We're starting right back to Belton City as soon as I've shaved," saidMr. Nichols firmly.

  "No, I've changed my mind about this place, Dad," Penny repliedquickly. "If our landlord, Mr. Crocker, will only fix things up, itwon't be half bad."

  "The cottage would need to be rebuilt to make it comfortable. I doubtthat Mr. Crocker will consent to do that."

  "He might clean it up for us, furnish wood and clean bedding, and seethat the lights are turned on," Penny said. "We could get along then.It wouldn't hurt us to rough it for a few weeks."

  "I guess I am too much attached to my comforts," Mr. Nichols smiled."So you really are willing to stay?"

  "I think you'd have a grand rest here."

  "And what would you do, Penny?"

  "Oh, cook and hike. I'd manage to keep occupied."

  "You're being a good sport about this," the detective said gravely."For myself, I'd not mind staying here. It's a change and that's whatI need."

  "Then it's settled," laughed Penny. "While you're shaving, I'll rundown and see our landlord. Perhaps I can borrow a few supplies fromhim too."

  Mr. Nichols tossed her the car keys.

  "No, I'll walk," Penny called over her shoulder as she left thecottage. "I need the exercise."

  By daylight the old Crocker home was nearly as gloomy as when viewedamid the shadows. Penny paused at the entrance of the narrow, ruttylane and stared at the place. Everything was quiet. The blinds wereall drawn and she could see no one moving about.

  "It looks almost as if no one were here," she thought.

  The winding lane led through the trees to the house and on either sidewere rows of tall, uncut privet hedge.

  Suddenly as Penny walked hurriedly along, she was startled to see alean, yellow hound hurl itself over the top of the hedge directly inher path. She stopped short. The animal bared his fangs, growling low.

  Penny was not afraid of dogs as a usual thing, but she had never seen amore vicious looking hound. She had every reason to believe that ifshe tried to go on up the lane he would attack.

  Penny reached down and seized a stout stick. She did not know whetherto try to advance or retreat.

  As she was eying the hound speculatively, Penny heard another sounddirectly behind her. She whirled about to see an old man with intentdark eyes watching her from beyond the hedge. Only his face wasvisible for the dense green foliage completely screened his body.

  "What do you want here?" asked the old fellow in a harsh voice. "Whoare you?"