called Penny. "I'll go with you."

They entered the building, which was little more than a one-story frame
shack. The door had been left unlocked, yet Judd Kilkane's office
appeared to be deserted.

"This is annoying," said Mr. Nichols. "He's probably out to supper,
but it means we may have a long wait."

"We ought to tell Walter Crocker," returned Penny. "Dad, I don't like
that fellow. He gives me the creeps."

"He is a bit queer," the detective admitted with a short laugh.

"Dad, do you suppose----"

"No," interrupted Mr. Nichols, "I don't think he's an escaped crook or
anything of the sort. Even if he were, I'd not be interested. This is
my vacation."

"Oh, all right," laughed Penny. "I was just thinking aloud."

Mr. Nichols opened the door and they walked toward the car together.
Suddenly Penny halted, staring toward the rumble seat.

"Why, Dad!" she exclaimed. "Walter Crocker has gone!"

CHAPTER II

Helping a Stranger

Christopher Nichols saw for himself that the rumble seat was empty. He
looked quickly up and down the village street. Walter Crocker was
nowhere to be seen.

"Well, that fellow certainly did a speedy disappearing act," the
detective commented. "We weren't inside the real estate office five
minutes."

"He might at least have thanked us for the ride," said Penny. "Dad, I
suppose you'll say this is silly, but I thought he acted as if he were
afraid we'd recognize him."

"What made you think that?"

"In the first place he insisted upon riding in the rumble seat. And he
kept pulling his hat down over his eyes."

"I'll agree he did act queerly," the detective admitted. "But he's
gone now, so we'll just forget about him."

"Oh, all right," laughed Penny. "I keep forgetting that this is your
vacation."

A well dressed gentleman in gray came walking leisurely down the
street. He gazed curiously at Penny and her father, and they
immediately guessed that he might be the missing Judd Kilkane.

"You weren't looking for me by any chance?" the man asked.

"We are if you're Mr. Kilkane," replied the detective.

"That's my name all right. Come on into the office. I stepped out for
a minute to buy an evening paper at the drugstore. Say, you're not
Nichols from Belton City?"

"Yes," agreed the detective. "You rented me a cottage."

"Old man Crocker's cottage," the real estate agent said as he opened
the office door. "I have the key for you."

"Did I underst