Penny found Mrs. Gallup ironing in the kitchen. She paused to display the Black Imp, but the housekeeper was not greatly impressed.
"And you call that a work of art!" she scoffed. "It's just an old lump of clay."
"This is only a copy of Amy Coulter's fine piece, Mrs. Gallup. Not a very good copy either. But don't you think the design is clever?"
"I can't say I do. That Imp has such a sinister look on his face—as if he were guarding a wicked secret!"
"Now that's an idea!" Penny laughed. "Maybe he is. At least he frightened a crook out of Dad's office this afternoon."
"What was that?" Mrs. Gallup demanded quickly.
Penny did not repeat for she had no desire to alarm the housekeeper. After all she could not be certain that the Black Imp had been the cause of Max Lynch's sudden leave taking.
"Oh, I was just talking," she murmured, and departed before Mrs. Gallup could question her further.
Penny took the little statue to her room, and after trying it in several locations, decided that it looked best on the maple desk. She then sat down to write a few lines in her diary, but whenever she glanced up the Black Imp seemed to be staring down at her with an inquiring scrutiny.
"You are a wicked little beast!" Penny chuckled. "Are you trying to learn what I'm writing about the jewelry theft?"