“So you propose to go out to the shack today and appropriate a tool?”
“I’ll buy it from Mr. Crocker. Perhaps I can convince him I want to chisel a tombstone for myself or something of the sort!”
“I used to think you were just plain crazy, Penny Parker,” Louise declared sadly. “Lately you’ve reached the stage where adjectives are too weak to describe you!”
A half hour later found the two girls at the Crocker shack. The door of the workshop stood open, but as Penny and Louise peered inside, they saw no sign of the old stonecutter. A number of tools lay on a bench where Crocker had been working, and with no hesitation Penny examined them.
“Here is a chisel,” she said in satisfaction. “It seems to be the only one around too. Just what I need!”
“Penny, you wouldn’t dare take it!”
“In my official capacity as a detective—yes. I’ll leave more than enough money to pay for it. Then after I’ve had it examined by an expert, I’ll return it to Mr. Crocker.”
“O Mystery, what crimes are committed in thy name,” Louise warbled. “If you land in jail, my dear Penny, don’t expect me to share your cell cot.”
“I’ll take all the responsibility.”
Selecting a bill from her purse, Penny laid it in a conspicuous place on the workbench.