CHAPTER VI
Susan's Misfortune
When Penny answered the telephone she heard her chum's agitated voice.
"I know I shouldn't bother you so late in the evening," Susan beganexcitedly, "but I've had the worst luck with my new car!"
"You haven't been in a collision?"
"No, it isn't quite that bad. But I'm stranded on Eighth Avenue and Ican't reach my folks by telephone."
"I'll drive over and get you," Penny offered. "What's the matteranyway? Has the engine balked already?"
"The car has been stripped by thieves! I'm so furious I can't eventalk about it."
"I'll come right over and see for myself," Penny declared.
Pausing only long enough to tell Mrs. Gallup where she was going, Pennybacked her roadster from the garage. She located Susan not far fromEighth Avenue and Clark, sitting gloomily behind the wheel of her newcoupe.
As Penny drove up she saw that the spare wheel was missing. Aspotlight was gone and likewise a reflecting mirror.
"The thieves very obligingly left me the steering wheel," Susan greetedher friend. "When a person can't park fifteen minutes without havingeverything stolen, I think it's time for the police to get busy!"
"How did you happen to be parked downtown?" Penny inquired. "Yourmother said you had gone to visit an aunt."
"I did, but on the way home I stopped at the "Y" for a swim. I shouldhave left the car on a lot but I thought I'd save the quarter. Nowwitness the result!"
"You still have four tires," Penny pointed out. "That's more than theyleft me."
"Yes, but they've done something to the engine. It won't start.That's why I called you."
Penny lifted the hood to look at the motor. Susan peered anxiouslyover her shoulder.
"Can you tell what's wrong?"
"It looks to me as if some of the vital parts are missing. Offhand I'dsay it was the generator."
"What's a generator?" Susan asked blankly. "Are they very expensive?"
"I don't know but I imagine they are. Isn't your car covered byinsurance, Susan?"
"No, it isn't. We intended to take it out but we didn't think a fewdays' delay would make any difference."
"Thieves seem to favor new cars."
"I realize that now," Susan said ruefully. "You know, I noticed arather queer thing as I came out of the "Y." A garage service car wasstanding beside my coupe. It drove away as I came toward it."'
"A service car?" Penny demanded alertly. "Did you see what garage itwas from?"
"No, I didn't. In fact, I scarcely paid any attention at the time forit wasn't until I had reached my car that I realized it had beenstripped."
"You must have surprised the thieves in the act!" Penny said excitedly."Undoubtedly, they are using the service truck as a front to escapedetection."
"How do you mean?"
"Why, they drive up in the truck and pretend to be changing a tire orrepairing the engine. Passersby notice nothing amiss."
"But what if the owner appears?"
"They drive away or if actually caught claim that they have made amistake in identifying the car of a customer."
"The driver of the garage truck did act suspiciously," Susan admitted."I was stupid not to jot down the license number."
The girls were talking so earnestly that they failed to note theapproach of a policeman. He paused to see what was wrong.
"Wheel stolen?" he asked, surveying the car critically.
"The wheel, the generator, and almost everything detachable," Susaninformed. "I was only gone a few minutes too."
"Have you reported to headquarters?"
Susan shook her head.
"What's the use?"
"You might recover your stolen property," the policeman saidoptimistically, taking a notebook from his pocket. "Your name andaddress?"
Susan gave it and furnished such information as she could regarding thetheft.
"Your car wasn't the only one that was stripped in this neighborhoodtonight," the officer told her. "Not fifteen minutes ago I ran into asimilar case."
"I think it's time the police did something about it," Susan saidsomewhat crossly.
"We're up against a tough gang, Miss. Our force is small and we can'tplace a man on every street corner."
As the officer continued to make out his report, a girl came runningtoward the little group. She was about Penny's age, though muchthinner. Her black hair blew in the wind, unrestrained by hat or beret.
"Oh, Father!" she cried in agitation.
The policeman turned quickly around.
"Why, Betty, what brings you here?" he questioned in surprise.
"I've been following you for two blocks," the girl said breathlessly."I wanted to----"
Her voice trailed off. She had noticed Susan and Penny.
Slowly her eyes swept over the dismantled car, then they roved to herfather with an expression which was akin to panic.
"What was it you wanted, Betty?" he asked.
"It doesn't matter now," she stammered. She added tensely: "Father,you're not making out a report!"
"Certainly, I am."
"Don't do it," the girl pleaded, gripping his arm. "You know what itmay mean. Please, for my sake!"
Penny and Susan exchanged a quick glance. They were at a loss tounderstand the girl's strange attitude. Why should she be so troubledbecause her father was writing out a routine report of a theft?
To their relief, the policeman laughed carelessly and went on makingout the report.
"You're hysterical, Betty," he accused. "Come, get a grip uponyourself."
"I'm sorry," the girl murmured, glancing nervously at Penny and Susan."I shouldn't have made such a request."
"My daughter is very excitable," the officer said apologetically. "Shedidn't really mean what she said."
There was an awkward pause. Penny turned to the girl and questionedkindly:
"Haven't I seen you somewhere? Your face is familiar."
"I've watched you swim at the Y.W.C.A. pool. You dive beautifullytoo."
"Oh, I remember you now! But I don't know your name."
"I am Betty Davis. You've already met my father."
"Jerome Davis," the officer added. "Just a sidewalk pounder."
The girls smiled at the disparaging remark. Penny mentioned her ownname.
"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 atthe 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'ssolved some difficult cases that have baffled our best detectives."
Penny made a perfunctory response and the officer turned to hisdaughter.
"Betty, you shouldn't be out alone so late at night. You must go backhome 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 isonly a few blocks away."
"It will be no trouble at all," Penny insisted, opening the door of herroadster. "Do let me give you a lift."
The girl flashed her father an appealing glance. It was obvious toboth Penny and Susan that she was greatly upset about something, yetthe officer appeared not to notice. He did not seem to realize thatshe wished to speak with him privately.
"It's very kind of you to take my daughter home, Miss Nichols," he saidquietly. "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 drawninto conversation, her answers were given in monosyllables.
"She's w
orrying 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 queerbecause 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, myfather 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.