“What worries me is that I am afraid she may have told Al Gepper where the money is kept.”
“Tomorrow I’ll urge her again to deposit it in a bank. We’ll do our best to protect her from these sharpers.”
The publisher had been very much interested in Penny’s account of the séance. However, he was unable to explain how the various tricks had been accomplished.
“Dad,” Penny said thoughtfully, “you don’t suppose there’s any chance it wasn’t trickery?”
“Certainly not! I hope you’re not falling under this fellow’s spell?”
“No, but it gave me a real shock when I saw Cousin David’s face materialize on the canvas. It was the absolute image of him—or rather of a picture Mrs. Weems once showed me.”
A startled expression came over Penny’s face. Without explanation, she sprang to her feet and ran to the kitchen.
“Mrs. Weems,” she cried, “did you ever get it back? Your picture!”
“What picture, Penny?” The housekeeper scarcely glanced up as she vigorously scrubbed carrots.
“I mean the one of Cousin David. You allowed a photographer to take it for enlargement.”