detective smiled. "I thought perhaps someone was escaping
with the family jewels."

"Speaking of jewelry, there's plenty of it around tonight. The
ballroom is fairly ablaze with it."

"Never mind the jewelry," Mr. Nichols said. "What were you doing in
the library?"

Leading her father to a secluded stone bench in the garden, Penny
related all that she had seen and heard.

"I wish you could see the picture," she ended. "I'm almost certain
it's a fake. If I can smuggle you into the library, will you look at
it?"

"No, Penny, I will not. You seem to forget that we're guests of Mrs.
Dillon."

"Yes, but if she has the stolen Rembrandt in her possession, isn't it
our duty to notify the police?"

"Do you know that she has the stolen painting?"

"No, in fact I rather suspect she's been cheated by a dishonest dealer."

"In that event, you'd only stir up a hornet's nest without doing a
particle of good. In fact, exposing Mrs. Dillon might give the real
thief a warning to lie low."

"How do you mean, Dad?"

"Why, the moment Mrs. Dillon is arrested, the dealer from whom she
purchased the picture will disappear. Then there will be no way to
trace the real thief."

"You're assuming that the dealer and the thief worked together even
though the painting which Mrs. Dillon bought may have been a fake."

"It's quite possible, Penny. Some day when the time is more opportune,
I'll explain to you how picture thieves work their racket. For the
moment I wish you'd accept my opinion that this case is packed with
dynamite. My advice to you is to be very sure of what you're doing
before you start any action."

"I guess you're right," Penny agreed. "I'll not do anything rash."

"The case may shake down in a few days," Mr. Nichols went on. "In the
meantime, Mrs. Dillon isn't going to dispose of her picture. She'll
not find it as easy to sell as she anticipates."

The detective arose from the bench after glancing at his watch.

"We'll have to go inside now," he said, "or the party will be over."

They entered the house and after wandering about for a few minutes
encountered Mrs. Dillon. She greeted the detective cordially and the
smile she bestowed upon Penny disclosed that she had not even noticed
the girl's long absence from the ballroom.

"How do you like her?" Penny whispered to her father as they sought the
refreshment table.

The detective shrugged. "She serves very good punch."

Mr. Nichols knew nea