"No such luck, Dad. I asked Mr. Crocker for so many things I didn't try to get any food. He's the strangest man!"
"What's so strange about him?"
"I suspect he's a miser or something of the sort. Anyway, he keeps a wicked looking dog and goes around the premises with a shotgun. He won't let his grandson talk with strangers, either."
"You didn't learn much, did you?"
"Well, I didn't have a very good chance," Penny grinned. "You see, he wouldn't let me into the house. I had to wait on the porch while he brought the things."
"Penny, are you making all this up?"
"Of course not!" she retorted indignantly. "Wait until you meet Mr. Crocker. He's a very mysterious character."
"Then I'd just as soon not meet him," laughed the detective. "In my present mood he'd not interest me a bit."
"I'll tell you about the practical results of our talk," smiled Penny. "We're to have all the wood we need and our electric lights should be hooked up by nightfall. Mr. Crocker has promised to pay for having the cottage cleaned. He gave me the name and address of a woman who will do the work."
"That's fine," said the detective. "If she's any good as a housekeeper, why not hire her ourselves by the week? Then you'd be free to roam around and have a good time."