"I feel so sorry for Betty," Penny murmured. "She'll take it hard if her father is discharged."
"You mustn't worry about it," Mr. Nichols advised kindly. "Davis had his chance to make good and seemingly failed. Now matters must take their own course."
"Couldn't you do anything to save his position, Dad?"
"I doubt it, Penny. At any rate, I shouldn't care to interfere ... for I'm not convinced that the commissioner isn't right. Davis is a queer type."
"Just the same I can't help feeling he's honest," Penny maintained firmly. "Couldn't there have been another reason for the failure of the raid?"
"Yes, but Davis was under suspicion before this. And since the raid he's been anything but cooperative."
"Then I suppose nothing can be done, but it seems a pity."
Penny did not speak of the matter again to her father but in secret she continued to mull over the unfortunate situation. She had developed a deep liking for Betty Davis, yet she readily acknowledged that in many ways the girl acted queerly.
"It's too much for me to figure out," Penny confessed to Susan one afternoon. "Everything seems to be such a hopeless contradiction. Betty lets on that she is desperately afraid her father will be harmed by Rap Molberg and yet the police claim that Mr. Davis is really abetting the criminals."
"Have you ever met her brother?"