in awe.

"Perhaps that's because I'm not famous."

"You will be after the prize award is announced," Penny assured her. "Everyone is saying your entry is the best."

"I do think the Black Imp is good," the girl admitted slowly. "Of course I was only joking about it a moment ago. I've labored over it for months and it's my best work. I'm hoping—almost praying that I'll win the prize. The money would mean everything to me."

Before either Penny or Susan could speak, an elderly woman clapped her hands sharply together to attract attention. Immediately the room became quiet.

"If you will kindly find seats, the program will start," the woman announced.

Susan and Penny secured chairs in the second row. When they looked about for Amy Coulter they noticed that she was sitting at the rear of the room, looking tense and worried.

"Miss Coulter was nice, wasn't she?" Susan whispered. "I hope her entry wins."

"So do I. You can tell this contest means a lot to her."

When Hanley Cron was introduced to the audience he was greeted with a mild round of applause in which Susan and Penny did not join. They listened closely to his speech however, and were forced to acknowledge that the man was a good public speaker. His manners before a crowd could not be criticized for he was both pleasant and witty. He praised in general terms all of the many fine entries in the contest, and mentioned perfunctorily his regret that each contestant could not be awarded the coveted prize.

Susan grew impatient. "Why doesn't he get to the point?" she fretted.

At length the man did. As he prepared to make the all important announcement many leaned expectantly forward in their chairs. Susan smiled confidently back at Amy.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Hanley Cron intoned, "I take great pleasure in awarding the five thousand dollar Huddleson prize to James Comberton for his truly remarkable creation, 'Winged Night.'"

A little buzz of excitement and obvious disappointment greeted the announcement. Susan and Penny were aghast. While they did not pretend to be art critics, the statue which had been selected seemed to them far inferior to the Black Imp. Apparently, many other persons shared the same opinion.

As Hanley Cron, a trifle defiantly, went on to explain the various points of merit which had caused him to select the prize winning statue, some openly shook their heads in disagreement. There was a great deal of whispering.

"Poor Amy!" Penny commented regretfully to her chum. "She was so hopeful of winning."

"And she should have too!" Susan whispered indignantly. "I told you Hanley Cron couldn't know anything about judging a statue. He's just a noisy talker!"

Penny smiled, knowing that her chum's opinion was decidedly biased. The girls were tactful enough not to turn and stare at Amy, but when it was possible to look back without appearing to do so, they glanced toward the seat in the rear row which the young sculptress had occupied. It was empty.

"I guess she slipped away as soon as she heard the bad news," Penny said regretfully. "The announcement must have been a bitter disappointment."

Hanley Cron ended his speech a few minutes later and a silent, dissatisfied crowd arose to depart. Penny and Susan hurriedly started toward the door, preferring to get away before the art critic recognized them.

They did not reach the outside corridor, for a uniformed attendant came swiftly into the room, closing the door firmly after him.

"No one must leave this room!" he commanded the startled group. "A shocking thing has just occurred. Someone has stolen a priceless Rembrandt painting from the adjoining exhibition hall!"

CHAPTER II

A Mysterious Package

A stunned silence greeted the attendant's announcement, then the room hummed with excited comment. Not in many years had anyone attempted to steal paintings or art treasures from the Gage Galleries for the institution was closely guarded. Hanley Cron stepped forward to ply the attendant with questions regarding the theft.

"You say a valuable painting has disappeared from the adjoining room?"

"Yes, a priceless Rembrandt. It was a very small painting—one which could be smuggled out under one's coat."

"And when was this loss discovered?"

"Only a few minutes ago, sir. The picture and the frame both were taken. The museum authorities have ordered that no one shall leave the building without submitting to a search."

A few of the visitors were indignant at such a requirement although the majority readily acknowledged that the order was a necessary one. "It's ridiculous to suspect anyone in this room," Hanley Cron began, and then stopped. He looked quickly about and asked abruptly: "What became of that girl who was sitting in the back row?"

"I think she left directly after your announcement regarding the prize," Penny informed when no one spoke.

For the first time the art critic fastened his gaze upon the two girls. He instantly recognized them and his face darkened.

"Who was the young woman?" the attendant questioned Penny.

"Her name was Amy Coulter, I believe."

"A friend of yours?" Hanley Cron demanded with an unpleasant inflection to his voice.

"I met her for the first time this afternoon."

"Does anyone know anything about this girl?" the art critic questioned the crowd in general.

Although a number of persons were slightly acquainted with the young sculptress, no one could offer any information regarding her character. Susan and Penny grew slightly annoyed at Hanley Cron's method of handling the situation.

"I don't see that Amy Coulter has any connection with the disappearance of the painting in the adjoining room," Penny said impatiently. "She came here today because of her entry, 'The Black Imp' was being considered in the contest. I have no doubt that she left because the award was bestowed upon another statue."

"I'll see if the young woman is still in the building," the guard announced.

He went away, returning in a few minutes accompanied by an official of the museum.

"Apparently, Miss Coulter has left the Galleries," the latter informed in a worried manner. "Can anyone here furnish us with the girl's address?"

"I believe she lives in a rooming house somewhere on Pearl Street," a woman in the crowd spoke up. "I hope you are not trying to connect the poor girl with the loss of the painting."

"Unfortunately, she is under suspicion," the official replied.

"Surely the girl had a right to leave the building when she chose!" Penny exclaimed.

"It happens that she was seen by a guard hurrying away from the Galleries with a flat package under her arm. She left by a back stairs and was not observed until she was stepping into a taxi cab. The attendant tried to stop her but was too late."

"And was the package this girl carried the approximate size of the stolen painting?" Penny asked incredulously.

"The guard reports that it was. He was almost certain it was a painting."

Penny and Susan were amazed at the information. They did not believe that Amy Coulter had the slightest connection with the disappearance of the famous picture and were astonished that the official seemed to be of a contrary opinion.

"Miss Coulter couldn't have taken the painting," Penny declared impulsively. "Why, she was here in this room until just a few minutes ago."

"Did you notice the exact time at which she left?" Hanley Cron demanded.

"No, but——"

"Then you have no evidence to offer. It looks to me as if you're trying to protect this girl."

"I only want to see justice done. And I do have evidence!" Penny's face brightened with excitement. "As my friend and I were coming into the building we met an attendant who was moving a small canvas-covered painting down a back corridor. We accidentally bumped into him and he