her father is discharged."

"You mustn't worry about it," Mr. Nichols advised kindly. "Davis had
his chance to make good and seemingly failed. Now matters must take
their own course."

"Couldn't you do anything to save his position, Dad?"

"I doubt it, Penny. At any rate, I shouldn't care to interfere ... for
I'm not convinced that the commissioner isn't right. Davis is a queer
type."

"Just the same I can't help feeling he's honest," Penny maintained
firmly. "Couldn't there have been another reason for the failure of
the raid?"

"Yes, but Davis was under suspicion before this. And since the raid
he's been anything but cooperative."

"Then I suppose nothing can be done, but it seems a pity."

Penny did not speak of the matter again to her father but in secret she
continued to mull over the unfortunate situation. She had developed a
deep liking for Betty Davis, yet she readily acknowledged that in many
ways the girl acted queerly.

"It's too much for me to figure out," Penny confessed to Susan one
afternoon. "Everything seems to be such a hopeless contradiction.
Betty lets on that she is desperately afraid her father will be harmed
by Rap Molberg and yet the police claim that Mr. Davis is really
abetting the criminals."

"Have you ever met her brother?"

"Jimmie?" Penny asked. "No, but from what she told me I suspect he's
something of a problem."

"I haven't seen Betty in days," Susan remarked. "Why not call on her
this afternoon?"

Penny hesitated an instant, then agreed. Considering her father's
association with Mr. Davis she was not certain that the visit would be
very tactful.

"We must be careful and not say anything that could offend her," she
warned.

"Of course," Susan agreed. "Shall we drive over in my car?"

At the Davis cottage a few minutes later, they caught a glimpse of
someone moving about on the upper floor. But when they rapped upon the
door there was no response.

"I know I saw Betty looking out of an upstairs window just as we drove
up," Susan whispered.

"Perhaps she doesn't care to see us then. Come on, Sue, let's not
knock again."

They quietly withdrew to the car.

"Where to now?" Susan inquired as she snapped on the ignition.

"Oh, anywhere. I've nothing special to do this afternoon."

Susan stepped on the electric starter, but the engine refused to
respond. She readjusted gasoline and spark levers to no avail.

"Stalled again!" she complained bitter