And I do hope you
have a good rest in the country, Mr. Nichols."

She watched from the doorway until the car disappeared down the street.

Penny settled herself for a long ride. She switched on the radio and
from force of habit turned the dial to the police station broadcast.

"Not that station," said Mr. Nichols.

"I forgot, Dad," laughed Penny. "My mistake."

She tuned to a program of band music and they both listened to it as
they drove along. An hour's ride brought them into high hills. From
then on they went more slowly, enjoying the view.

Approaching dusk found Penny and her father still several miles from
Knob Hill.

"I thought we'd be settled in our cottage by this time," said Mr.
Nichols, frowning. "Perhaps we ought to spend the night at a hotel."

"We can decide about that when we reach Knob Hill," Penny replied.
"But let's stop somewhere for an early supper. Otherwise, we'll have
to buy supplies and carry them with us."

Mr. Nichols turned in at the next roadside cafe. He and Penny enjoyed
an excellent meal and then went on once more toward Knob Hill.

It was nearly dark by this time. As they rounded a sharp curve, Mr.
Nichols reached down to switch on the headlights. At the same moment
Penny gave a little cry of alarm.

"Oh, Dad! There's a car in the ditch!"

Mr. Nichols slammed on the foot brake, for he had seen the wreck at the
same instant. A high-powered blue sedan lay on its side in the
rain-gutted ditch to the right of the road. One tire was down, and Mr.
Nichols judged that a blow-out had caused the accident.

"I wonder if anyone was hurt?" Penny gasped.

Just then a short, squat little man in a long gray overcoat and felt
hat stepped out from behind the overturned car. He held up his hand as
a signal to Mr. Nichols.

"I see you've had an accident," said the detective as he brought his
own car to a standstill at the side of the road. "Anything we can do
to help?"

Penny could not see the stranger's face clearly, for his soft felt hat
was pulled low over his eyes. His voice, when he spoke, was husky.

"Sure, you can give me a lift if you will. My tire blew out when I was
doing seventy. First thing I knew I was in the ditch."

"You're lucky it wasn't a worse accident," replied the detective.

"What's lucky about it?" demanded the stranger irritably.

"Your car doesn't appear much damaged," replied Mr. Nichols, studying
the man curiously. "And you don't seem to