“No.”
“I’ll take you to Brookport if you like,” Penny offered generously. “We might go tomorrow.”
“Oh, I shouldn’t like to trouble you, Miss Nichols. I can probably rent a car.”
“There’s no need of it for I would enjoy the ride. Besides, I am curious to learn if there is an attorney by the name of Elfhedge living in Brookport. Suppose I call here for you around ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“All right,” Rosanna smiled. “It’s good of you to offer. Perhaps I can repay you someday.”
The girls parted, Penny driving directly to her own home. Entering the house by the back door she found Mrs. Gallup, the housekeeper, cooking dinner. The kitchen was permeated with the delightful aroma of frying chicken.
“Is Dad home yet?” Penny inquired, pausing to sniff the air.
“He’s in the study,” the housekeeper informed.
Penny found Christopher Nichols occupied at his desk. Sometimes it was difficult for her to realize that she was the daughter of a detective who had gained state-wide recognition for his ability in solving baffling cases. Mr. Nichols had served an apprenticeship on the police force, had risen from the ranks, and later had started his own private detective agency. Yet, despite his success, he was quiet and unaffected.
Mr. Nichols had no real hobbies and only two absorbing interests in life—his work and his daughter. Penny had been left motherless at an early age. Because there had been only a slight feminine influence in her life her outlook upon the world was somewhat different from that of the average high school girl. She thought clearly and frankly spoke her mind. Yet if she enjoyed an unusual amount of freedom for one so young, she never abused the trust which her father placed in her.