Chapter VI: The Attic Door

"It seems that you are wrong, Dad," commented Penny dryly. "Already we have a visitor."

Mr. Nichols went to the door and flung it open. The light revealed a bedraggled young man who might have been in his early twenties. He was not very well dressed and his clothes were rain soaked. Penny and her father regarded the stranger a trifle suspiciously until he spoke.

"I beg your pardon," the young man said apologetically, "but I am looking for the Herman Crocker place. Would you be kind enough to direct me?"

"Why, certainly," replied the detective. "Come in out of the rain, won't you?"

"Thanks, but my shoes are covered with mud."

"You can't harm anything in this cottage," said Penny. "Come right in."

The young man stepped over the threshold, removing his limp felt hat. He had sandy hair, Penny observed, and penetrating blue eyes which roved swiftly about the room.

"It's a nasty night," said Mr. Nichols. "Have you walked far?"

"All the way from Kendon."

"Then you went right past Herman Crocker's place. It's a large house to the left of the road."

"The rain is coming down so fast I couldn't see very far ahead of me," the young man replied. "This was the first light I saw along the way."

"It may be that Mr. Crocker has gone to bed," Penny remarked. "I imagine he retires early."

"Will he be expecting you?" inquired the detective.

"Why, no, he won't," the young man replied after a slight hesitation. "I suspect he'll be very much surprised to see me."

"We have a telephone," Penny said. "If you like, I'll call Mr. Crocker for you. He might be willing to drive up and get you."

"Oh, please don't go to any bother," returned the young man quickly, edging toward the door again.

"It won't be any trouble at all."

"Please, I'd rather you wouldn't. I'll not mind the walk."

Penny glanced sharply at the young man. It was plain to see that he had some special motive for not wishing to give Herman Crocker advance notice of his arrival in the community.

Without having any real reason for such a belief, it suddenly struck Penny that the young man's visit might have some connection with the mysterious call which Walter Crocker had made upon his uncle.

"I take it you're a stranger in these parts," remarked Mr. Nichols. He too was studying the young man curiously.

"Well, yes, I am. I'm here to see Mr. Crocker on rather important business."

"You'll be his second out-of-town visitor this week," Penny commented in a casual tone. "Mr. Crocker's nephew was here, but I understand he has gone back to the city."

"Mr. Crocker's nephew?" asked the young man quickly.

"Yes," said Penny, watching him closely. "Walter Crocker."

A strange look came into the young man's eyes. An expression of astonishment gave way to one of wariness.

"You are acquainted with Walter Crocker perhaps?" asked Penny, ignoring her father's warning glance.

"I have heard of him," replied the young man after a brief hesitation. He turned once more toward the door.

As he opened it a strong gust of wind blew a sheet of rain into the room.

"See here, you can't go out in that," said Mr. Nichols firmly. "Let me telephone Crocker and tell him you're here."

The young man shook his head.

"Then I'll put on chains and take you down there in my car."

"No, I'd rather not have you go to any bother on my account. I don't mind a little rain."

"It's blowing a gale and the storm is getting worse every minute," the detective insisted. "Herman Crocker keeps a vicious dog too. If you walk in there without being expected, you may receive an unpleasant reception."

"I wasn't looking for a very cordial one anyway," the young man said slowly. "But thanks for the tip about the dog. Maybe it would be just as well to go back to town for the night."

"There's no need to do that," said Mr. Nichols. "You're welcome to stay here if you like. Our quarters aren't very luxurious, but at least it will be better than walking back to the village."

"I'll get Mrs. Masterbrook to help me fix up one of the bedrooms right away," Penny added quickly.

"It's very kind of you," said the young man, looking troubled. "You know nothing about me----"

"We're not worried upon that score," replied Mr. Nichols with a smile. "But you might tell us your name."

"Oh, yes, to be sure----" stammered the young man. "Just call me Michael--Michael Haymond."

"I am very glad to know you, Mr. Haymond," returned the detective. "May I take your coat and hat? I'll build up the fire so that your things will dry out."

Penny crossed the room intending to call Mrs. Masterbrook. As she opened the door leading into the hallway she saw the housekeeper hastily retreating into her own bedroom. Obviously she had been listening to the conversation.

"Mrs. Masterbrook!" called Penny.

"Well, what is it?" asked the housekeeper, re-opening her door.

"A guest is spending the night. Will you please help me prepare the east bedroom?"

"This is a nice time to start making up beds," the housekeeper complained. "I was just ready to undress."

"I'm sorry to bother you, Mrs. Masterbrook. I'll do it myself."

"I didn't say I wasn't willing to help," the housekeeper said quickly. "Only if you ask me, you're making a big mistake to take a perfect stranger into the house."

"What makes you think he's a stranger?" asked Penny quickly.

"I couldn't help hearing what he told you," Mrs. Masterbrook returned with a toss of her head. "I don't believe for a single minute that his name is Michael Haymond. Anyone could tell that he was lying."

"Who do you think he is?" asked Penny. "A 'G' man in disguise?"

"He looks more like a young criminal to me," Mrs. Masterbrook replied soberly. "His face is very familiar."

"Dear me, how did you manage to see him? Not through the keyhole?"

The housekeeper had not meant to betray herself. She flushed and made no answer.

"If you care to meet Mr. Haymond, come into the living room," Penny invited. "I think you'll find him to be a very nice young man."

"No, thank you, I don't wish to meet him," said the housekeeper coldly. "And if the cottage is robbed during the night, kindly don't blame me."

"All right, I won't," laughed Penny.

The bedroom which the guest was to occupy adjoined Mr. Nichols' sleeping quarters. Long after the house had settled down for the night, Penny could hear sounds from that part of the cottage. Either her father or Mr. Haymond was very restless.

"It may have been unwise to take a stranger into the house," the girl reflected, "but he seemed honest enough. I don't see why Mrs. Masterbrook had to act so hateful about it."

For some time Penny remained awake thinking over the information which Michael Haymond had given about himself. He had not told where he lived nor had he mentioned the nature of his business with Herman Crocker. She had fancied that the young man had seemed somewhat shaken by her reference to Walter Crocker.

"I may have imagined that part," she told herself. "Dad didn't seem to notice anything wrong."

Shortly Penny fell asleep. Several hours later she found herself wide awake again. She did not know what had aroused her.

Although Penny had left the curtains up, the room was dark. She could still hear the rain pattering against the tin roof.

Then the girl became aware of another sound. She heard a floor board creak. Someone was moving softly down the hallway.

"I wonder who is up at this hour?" she thought.

For a minute Penny lay perfectly still, listening. Then she crept noiselessly from bed. Drawing on her dressing gown, she tiptoed to the door.

The hall was dark. At first she could distinguish nothing; then she made out a shadowy figure at the far end. Someone was trying to open the door which led up to the attic.