“You saw ghosts a-plenty on that occasion,” smiled Penny. “I only hope we have as much luck tonight.”
By eight o’clock everything was in readiness for the journey into the country. Dressing warmly and carrying an extra blanket, Penny and Mrs. Weems walked to a nearby cab station. There the housekeeper selected a driver, a burly man who looked as if he might have been an ex-prizefighter.
“Sure, Ma’am,” he said as Mrs. Weems questioned him, “you can depend on me to look after you.”
“How are you at capturing ghosts?” inquired Penny, climbing into the cab.
The driver looked a trifle startled. “Swell!” he rejoined. “Bring on your spook, and if he don’t weigh no more than two hundred pounds, I’ll nail him!”
Penny and Mrs. Weems were satisfied that they were in good hands. They instructed the man, Joe Henkell, to drive directly to the old Harrison estate.
“By the way, do you know who owns the property?” Penny asked as the cab rolled toward the country.
“Fellow from the East,” Joe flung over his shoulder. “I’m not sure. Think his name is Deming—George Allan Deming. Wealthy sportsman. Has his own plane an’ everything.”
“Married?”
“Couldn’t tell you. The estate has been closed up this winter.”