"What's going on here?"
Hanley Cron's hand fell from Amy's arm. The girls expected him to make a direct charge against them but he seemed confused by the appearance of the policeman.
"We're not having any trouble, officer," he muttered. "Just a little friendly argument about some of my work."
"Friendly, eh?" the policeman questioned. He gazed inquiringly at Penny and Amy.
"It was really nothing," the latter said hurriedly. "We merely disagreed about a statue."
The girls edged toward the door, Amy still clutching the Black Imp in her hands. They both confidently expected that Cron would bring up the matter of the stolen painting, but for some reason which they could not fathom, he stood mute.
The policeman, however, blocked the exit.
"Just a minute," he said. "What's this bag doing here?" He picked up the beaded purse which had been dropped on the table.
Penny explained where Amy had found it and told of her own attempt to capture the jewel thief.
"The man didn't come into my studio," Cron interposed. "These girls are so excited they don't know what they saw."