The Girl Detective Megapack: 25 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls

by Mildred A. Wirt

  “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!”

  CHAPTER XIII
>
  A Bolt of Cloth

  Susan instantly approved of Penny’s idea, so the girls drove on toward Fairfax, a small city of several thousand inhabitants. They stopped at a corner drugstore to consult a telephone directory. At least fifteen families by the name of Keenan were listed.

  “This isn’t going to be as easy as I thought,” Penny said in disappointment.

  “I suppose we could telephone every Keenan in the book,” Susan ventured.

  “What could we say?” Penny asked. “‘I beg your pardon, but are you the person who took Michael Gladwin to the Orphan’s Home?’ We’d receive nothing but rebuffs.”

  “I guess it would be silly,” Susan agreed. “Let’s give it up.”

  “We might try the post office,” Penny said after a moment’s thought.

  They located the government building in the downtown section of Fairfax only to meet disappointment once more. The postmaster listened politely enough while Penny told him that she was seeking a certain Mr. Keenan who for many years had regularly mailed letters to the Glenhaven Orphan’s Home, but she could tell that he considered her request for information rather ridiculous.

  “We handle hundreds of letters a day here,” he explained. “It would be impossible for me to remember any particular one.”

  Penny and Susan went back to the car, convinced that they could do no more.

  “We may as well go home,” Penny declared gloomily. “Our day has been wasted.”

  “Oh, I’d not say that,” replied Susan cheerfully. “We’ve had an interesting time, and we learned quite a few facts from Mrs. Havers.”

  “We don’t know a bit more about Michael Haymond than we did before. He may be the same person as Michael Gladwin but we’ll never be able to prove it.”

  “Not unless he breaks down and admits it, I fear.”

  “I’d not want Michael to think I was prying into his past life,” Penny said hastily. “After all, it’s really none of my affair where he spent his early years. I’ll just forget about it.”

  The girls might have been unable to dismiss the affair completely from their minds had it not been that the following day another development crowded all else into the background.

  Susan had started to knit a sweater. Finding that she was in need of more wool, she asked Penny to walk down to the village dry goods store with her.

  While Susan was trying to match her sample, Penny roved about the store, gazing at the various objects. She had never seen such a strange mixture in any one establishment before. There was a grocery section, a candy department, one devoted to books and stationery, a shoe section, and sundry articles too numerous to mention.

  Suddenly Penny’s attention was drawn to a bolt of cloth lying on the counter. It was white material of a curious weave. The girl crossed over to examine it.

  “Are you thinking of buying yourself a dress, Penny?” asked Susan. She had come up behind her chum.

  “Oh! You startled me!” exclaimed Penny with a little laugh. “Susan, I wish you’d look at this cloth!”

  “I don’t like it at all if you want my honest opinion,” replied Susan. “The material is too coarse.”

  “I don’t intend to buy it for a dress,” Penny explained quickly, lowering her voice. “Do you remember that broken toy lantern which I showed you?”

  “Of course I do. You mean the one which your father believes to be a clue in the Kirmenbach case?”

  “Yes.”

  “I still don’t understand what you are driving at,” Susan said a trifle impatiently. “What connection does it have with this bolt of dress goods?”

  “Look at the cloth very closely,” Penny urged. “Now don’t you see?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Have you forgotten the wick of the toy lantern?”

  “The wick—” repeated Susan slowly. “Oh! The cloth is the same!”

  “It’s the very same weave,” Penny nodded. “At least that would be my guess. The wick of that toy lantern might have been made from a scrap of cloth sold from this very bolt of goods!”

  “I’d never have noticed a thing like that in a million years,” Susan murmured in awe. “Penny, you’ve uncovered an important clue in your father’s case.”

  “I may be wrong about it,” Penny admitted.

  She lowered her voice for the storekeeper was coming toward the girls.

  “May I show you something in yard goods?” he inquired. “That bolt on the counter is one of our popular pieces.”

  “Have you sold very much of it?” Penny asked quickly.

  “Oh, yes, indeed. A great many women in Kendon have had suits made from this particular pattern. It is very reasonably priced too—only thirty-nine cents a yard.”

  “Could you give me a list of the persons who have bought material from this bolt?” Penny questioned eagerly.

  The storekeeper regarded her rather blankly for the request was a strange one.

  “Well, no, I’m afraid I can’t,” he replied. “Half the women in town buy yard goods from me. But I’m sure you can’t go wrong in making this selection.”

  “I’ll take a quarter of a yard,” Penny told him.

  “Only a quarter of a yard?”

  “Yes, that will do for a sample. I may want more later on.”

  The storekeeper cut off the material and wrapped it up. Penny and Susan left the store with their purchases.

  “I’m going straight back to the cottage and compare this cloth with the wick of the toy lantern!” Penny exclaimed when they were beyond the storekeeper’s hearing.

  “It’s a pity so many persons bought the material,” Susan commented. “Otherwise it might be possible to trace the buyers.”

  “Yes,” agreed Penny, “but the clue may prove to be a valuable one anyway. If this cloth is the same as the toy lantern wick, it’s very possible that the thief who stole the Kirmenbach jewels lives right in this town.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting that other stores may have the same kind of material for sale,” Susan remarked.

  “That’s possible of course. Oh, Dad may not consider the clue of much value, but at least it’s worth reporting.”

  Mr. Nichols was sitting on the front porch when the girls reached the cottage. Making certain that Mrs. Masterbrook was not within hearing, Penny told him of her important discovery in the village. Mr. Nichols examined the cloth very closely and then compared it with the wick of the toy lantern.

  “The material looks exactly the same to me, Dad!” Penny declared excitedly.

  “It is identical,” her father agreed. “Where did you say you bought the goods?”

  “At Hunters Store. Unfortunately, every woman in Kendon seems to have bought this same material.”

  Mr. Nichols reached for his hat. “I’m going down there now and talk with the storekeeper,” he declared.

  “Then you think the clue is important, Dad.”

  “Yes, I do, Penny. It may not lead to anything, but one can never be sure.”

  “Didn’t I tell you to call on me if you needed help with the case?” laughed Penny.

  “You certainly did,” her father agreed good-naturedly. “As a detective I’m afraid you’re showing me up in a bad light.”

  Before leaving the cottage Mr. Nichols was careful to lock the toy lantern in his room. Considering its value in the Kirmenbach case he did not wish to run any risk of having it stolen.

  Mr. Nichols was absent from the cottage a little over an hour. When Penny saw him coming up the road she ran to meet him.

  “Did you learn anything, Dad?” she asked eagerly.

  The detective shook his head.

  “I’m satisfied that the material is the same,” he replied, “but the storekeeper couldn’t remember anyone who had bought the goods from him. He seems to be a stupid fellow.”

  Penny walked along with her father for some distance without making any response. Then she said half apologetically:

  “Dad, I have an idea, but I suppose it’s a very s
illy one.”

  “What is it, Penny?” the detective asked soberly.

  “I have a theory that the thief who took the Kirmenbach jewels may have been some person living in this locality.”

  “That is possible,” Mr. Nichols agreed.

  “In that case the toy lantern probably belonged to some child who may reside in or near Kendon.”

  “True.”

  “This is my idea,” Penny explained. “Why not display the lantern in some prominent place where children will be likely to see it—for instance the candy department of Hunter’s store. Take Mr. Hunter into your confidence and have him on the lookout for the original owner of the toy lantern. A child seeing it on the store shelf would be almost certain to identify the property as his.”

  Mr. Nichols did not laugh. Instead he remained thoughtfully silent for a moment.

  “There may be something in your idea, Penny,” he said gravely. “If we could locate the owner of the toy lantern it should prove fairly easy to trace the thief. But the chance that the right child would enter the store and recognize the toy is a very slim one.”

  “Would it do any harm to try?”

  “No, we’ve nothing to lose,” Mr. Nichols declared. “I’ve tried all the sensible ways of tracing the thief, and have met with no success. We may as well test out your theory.”

  “When will you see Mr. Hunter?” Penny asked eagerly.

  “We’ll get the toy lantern and go right back there together,” Mr. Nichols promised. He smiled down at his daughter. “And by the way, there’s a new development in the Kirmenbach case which I forgot to mention.”

  “What is that, Dad?”

  “Mr. Kirmenbach has offered a five hundred dollar reward for the capture of the jewel thief. So you see, if your idea should lead to anything, it will prove a very profitable one.”

  CHAPTER XIV

  A Conversation Overheard

  Penny had scant hope that ever she would win the reward offered by Mr. Kirmenbach. She knew as well as did her father that there was not one chance in fifty that her unique plan would bring results.

  Mr. Hunter, upon being taken into the detective’s confidence, was very willing to cooperate. He placed the broken toy lantern on a prominent shelf near the candy counter and promised to report at once if any child appeared to claim the trinket.