[Transcriber's note: Extensive research found no evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Penny Nichols and the Knob Hill Mystery
By
JOAN CLARK
The Goldsmith Publishing Company CHICAGO
COPYRIGHT MCMXXXIX BY THE GOLDSMITH PUBLISHING COMPANY MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
CONTENTS
Penny Nichols and the Knob Hill Mystery
CHAPTER I
A Cottage at Knob Hill
Penny Nichols, hair flying in the wind, came running up the steps of the Altman porch. She did not need to ring the bell, for just at that moment Susan, her dark-haired chum, appeared in the open doorway.
"Why, hello, Penny," greeted the Altman girl. "You're all out of breath."
"I ran most of the way from home," replied Penny.
"I was hoping you'd drop in today. Come on into the house."
"No, I can't, Susan," said Penny hurriedly. "I just ran over to say good-by."
"Good-by?" echoed Susan blankly. "You're not going away, Penny?"
"Yes, Dad took a sudden notion he wanted to spend a quiet vacation at a place called Knob Hill. We're motoring down there this afternoon."
"Well, I like that!" exclaimed Susan. "You didn't say a thing about it when we were playing tennis yesterday."
"How could I when I didn't know anything about it myself until an hour ago? That's the way Dad does things, Susan."
"I suppose you're going off on another one of those exciting mystery cases," Susan said enviously.
"I only wish we were," sighed Penny. "This vacation won't be a bit exciting. Dad just wants a complete rest at a quiet place. He says he'll not even think about work while we're gone."
"What sort of place is Knob Hill?"
"From all I can learn it's just a dead spot on the map," Penny declared. "And we've rented a cottage sight unseen."
"Oh, it may not be half bad," said Susan encouragingly. "You'll probably be able to do a lot of interesting things—swim, hike or ride."
"Not at Knob Hill," replied Penny, shaking her head. "It isn't a summer resort place at all. There will be absolutely nothing to do except eat, sleep, and grow fat."
Susan laughed as she glanced at her chum's slender figure. Penny was too active and athletic ever to be plump. She had sparkling blue eyes, golden hair, and a natural smile. It was very easy for her to make friends.
"I haven't finished my packing yet," said Penny. "I'll have to get back home or I'll keep Dad waiting."
"I'm terribly sorry to see you go," Susan told her. "Don't forget to send me a postcard now and then."
Penny promised that she would write often, and then, aware that time was slipping away, said a hurried farewell. Reaching her own home, a large white house on Hilburn Street, she found her father washing the car in the back yard.
Christopher Nichols was a tall, slim man with graying hair. For many years he had been in charge of the Nichols Detective Agency and was well known not only in Belton City but throughout the state. Many persons believed that Penny had inherited her father's sleuthing ability, for even at the age of fifteen she had shown remarkable talent in solving mystery cases.
