se relief, she dropped lightly to the floor.

She found herself in a large, studio room, well illuminated by two sky
lights. Obviously, several artists had been working there, for the
place was cluttered with easels, palettes, and discarded paintings. A
number of pictures of uniform size stood in a little pile, face
downward.

Curiously, Penny lifted one to gaze at it.

"The stolen Rembrandt!" she gasped.

Then she knew better. It was only a copy, identical with the one she
had viewed at Mrs. Dillon's home.

She lifted the other pictures and looked at them. They were all the
same.

"So this is where Mrs. Dillon's fake came from!" she thought. "The men
who rented this place apparently are manufacturing Rembrandts in
wholesale quantities!"

At the other side of the room she noticed a picture which was only half
finished, and beside it a canvas covered easel. She crossed over to
lift the protecting cloth.

Still another Rembrandt was revealed.

"Just a copy," Penny told herself, and started to replace the canvas.

Then she looked at the picture again. It did not look exactly like the
others. The detail was the same, yet this painting seemed to have a
depth and quality which the others lacked. Penny wondered if it could
be the original Rembrandt, the priceless painting which had been stolen
from the Gage Galleries.

"I believe it is!" she decided.

As Penny stood gazing at the picture, she was dismayed to hear
footsteps in the hallway. Frantically, she looked about for a hiding
place.

It was too late to escape through the window. The only refuge
available was a clothes closet.

Penny darted inside and softly shut the door. Scarcely had she
secreted herself when three men entered the room. Peering out through
the keyhole, she distinguished Cron, Hoges, and the man in gray whom
she had once followed to the Franklyn Street address. Apparently, the
men had returned for something they had forgotten. Hanley Cron
searched in a table drawer.

"Say, who left that window open?" he demanded unexpectedly.

"I didn't," Hoges said.

"You can't blame me for it," the other man growled. "Probably you
opened it yourself."

"I did not," Cron retorted. He crossed the room and slammed down the
window. "Be careful about things like that. If we're not more
cautious we'll have the cops on us."

"If you ask me, I think it's about time we blow," Hoges commented.
"This town is getting pretty hot for us."