The more she considered the idea, the greater became its appeal. Probably Laponi would not return to the house for at least an hour. She would have ample time. Still, the undertaking would be a risky one and not at all to her liking.
“I suppose a professional detective wouldn’t feel squeamish about entering another person’s room if the case demanded it,” she encouraged herself. “Laponi practically admitted his guilt—that was because he thought I couldn’t do anything about it. Maybe I’ll show him!”
By this time Penny’s mind was made up. Quietly she stole up the stairway. In the upper corridor she paused to listen for a minute. Everything was still.
Penny tiptoed down the hall to Max Laponi’s room. She tried the door. It was locked.
“That’s funny,” she thought. “He must keep something inside that he’s afraid to have folks see.”
She was more eager than before to search the room. But with the key gone it seemed out of the question. Then Penny’s face lighted as she recalled the empty bedroom adjoining the one occupied by Laponi. It was possible that they might have a connecting door.
Looking carefully about to make certain that she was not under observation, she moved on down the hall and tried the next door. To her delight it opened. She entered the dusty chamber, gazing quickly about. She was disappointed to see that the two bedrooms had no connecting door.
However, when she walked to the window and raised it, she noted a wide ledge which ran the length of the building.
“If only I dared lower myself to it I could reach Max Laponi’s room, for the ledge is only a few feet below from his window!” she reasoned.
Penny decided that the chance was worth taking. She naturally was athletic and had confidence that she could maintain a foothold. Lowering herself to the ledge she flattened herself to the wall of the house and moved an inch at a time toward the next window. It was a long fall to the ground. Penny did not dare glance downward. Although the distance between the two windows was not more than twelve feet it seemed an age until her hands clutched the sill.