The girls smiled at the disparaging remark. Penny mentioned her own
name.

"You're not related to Christopher Nichols?" the officer asked.

"Yes, I am his daughter."

"You don't say! Well, I am glad to make your acquaintance. Down at
the station they think a lot of your father."

"He was on the force many years ago, I believe," Penny said politely.

"That was before my time, but I'm always hearing about him. He's
solved some difficult cases that have baffled our best detectives."

Penny made a perfunctory response and the officer turned to his
daughter.

"Betty, you shouldn't be out alone so late at night. You must go back
home at once."

"If you live nearby I'll be glad to take you in my car," Penny offered.

"I shouldn't like to trouble you," the girl said hastily. "My home is
only a few blocks away."

"It will be no trouble at all," Penny insisted, opening the door of her
roadster. "Do let me give you a lift."

The girl flashed her father an appealing glance. It was obvious to
both Penny and Susan that she was greatly upset about something, yet
the officer appeared not to notice. He did not seem to realize that
she wished to speak with him privately.

"It's very kind of you to take my daughter home, Miss Nichols," he said
quietly. "Don't keep them waiting, Betty."

Reluctantly, the girl crowded into the seat beside Penny and Susan.

"I live at 1406 St. Clair Avenue," she informed briefly.

As they drove slowly along, Penny had an opportunity to study the girl.
She was an odd type. Serious and certainly not talkative. When drawn
into conversation, her answers were given in monosyllables.

"She's worrying over something," Penny thought.

The car halted before a modest brown cottage on St. Clair Avenue.
Betty Davis alighted.

"Thank you so much for bringing me home," she told Penny gratefully.
She hesitated, then added earnestly: "I know you thought it queer
because I asked my father not to make that report."

"I'm sure you must have had a very good reason," Penny returned.

"I was overwrought or I shouldn't have made the request. You see, my
father is in great danger!"

"I don't quite understand."

Already Betty Davis felt that she was revealing too much.

"I wish I could tell you about it--but I don't dare," she murmured.

With that she turned and ran into the house.

CHAPTER VII

An Awkward Situation

"Now just what did she mean by that remark?" Susan demanded