“There’s only one possible reason so far as I know,” the reporter answered. “Not long ago Doolittle refused to join the Holloway County Cooperative, an organization that markets crops for the truck farmers.”
“And you believe the Hoods may be connected with the Cooperative?”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” Jerry replied hastily. “Fact is, the Holloway Cooperative always has had a good reputation.”
“There’s no question the Preston barn was destroyed by the Hoods,” Penny said reflectively. “Although the evidence pointed to Clem Davis, I’ve never felt satisfied he was guilty.”
“Same here,” agreed Jerry. “Another thing, I keep mulling over what that melon sorter said yesterday.”
“You mean his hint that something might happen to Mrs. Davis’ crop?”
“Yeah. Maybe he knew more than he let on.”
“The Hoods will have to work fast if they destroy the Davis melons,” Penny rejoined. “Besides, didn’t the sheriff uncover proof that Clem Davis is a member of the organization?”
“That’s what he says. I wonder about that too.”
Not far from the truck was a small pile of discarded melons, culls which were misshapen or over-ripe. Selecting one, Jerry tossed it into the air and caught it.
“Just the right size for a hand grenade,” he remarked. “Watch!”
He threw the melon hard against the barn. It burst against the siding, breaking into a dozen fragments and leaving an unsightly blotch of oozing seeds.
“Jerry, you shouldn’t do that,” Penny chided. “Mrs. Davis won’t like it.”
“Okay, I’ll be good,” the reporter promised. “The temptation was just too strong to resist.”
By this time, the hubbub in the melon patch had slightly subsided as the youngsters gained their fill of cantaloupe. Soon institution officials began to pilot the children to the waiting cars. Several lads protested at the early termination of the party.
“Do let the boys stay awhile longer,” Penny pleaded. “Jerry and I will bring them back in a few minutes.”
“Very well,” the matron consented. “But don’t allow them to eat so many melons that they will be sick.”
The responsibility of looking after six orphans weighed heavily upon Penny. After the cars had driven away, she and Jerry patrolled the patch, trying vainly to maintain order. With institution authorities no longer present, the boys proceeded to enjoy themselves. They ran races down the furrows, lassoed one another with vines, and pelted ripe melons against the fence posts.
“Hey, you little hoodlums!” Jerry shouted. “Cut it out or you’ll go back to the Home pronto!”
“Says who?” mocked one saucy little fellow in a piping voice.
“Quiet everyone!” commanded Penny suddenly. “Listen!”
In the silent night could be heard the clatter of horses’ hoofs. Jerry whirled around, gazing toward the entrance to the lane. Two horsemen, black hoods covering their faces, rode at a hard gallop toward the storage barn.
CHAPTER
11
PENNY’S CLUE
“The nightshirt riders!” Jerry exclaimed. “Duck down, everyone!”
Penny and the six lads from the Riverview Home crouched low, watching the approach of the two riders.
“One of those men may be Clem Davis, but I doubt it!” muttered Jerry. “They’re here to destroy the crated cantaloupes!”
“Jerry, we can’t let them get away with it!” Penny exclaimed. “Why not pelt them with melons when they get closer?”
“Okay,” he agreed grimly, “we’ll give ’em a spoiled cantaloupe blitz. Gather your ammunition, gang, and get ready!”
Screened from the approaching horsemen by trees and bushes, the young people hastily collected a few over-ripe cantaloupes which were small enough to throw with accuracy.
Unaware of the barrage awaiting them, the two hooded men rode into the yard.
“Now!” Jerry gave the signal. “Let ’em have it!”
Taking careful aim, he hurled his own melon with all his strength. It found its mark, striking one of the men with stunning force, nearly causing him to fall from the saddle.
Penny and the boys from the orphans’ home concentrated their efforts on the other horseman. While many of their shots were wild, a few went true. One struck the horse which reared suddenly on her hind legs, unseating the rider.
“Give it to him!” Jerry shouted, observing that the fallen man was unhurt.
Handicapped by lack of ammunition, there followed a brief lull in the battle, as the young people sought to replenish their stock. Seizing the opportunity, one of the night riders galloped away. The other man, who had lost his horse, scrambled into the cab of the loaded melon truck.
“He’s going to drive off!” Penny cried. “Let’s stop him!”
She and Jerry ran toward the truck, but they were too late. The giant motor started with a roar, and the heavy vehicle rolled out of the yard.
Just then, Mrs. Davis came running from the cabin.
“My melons!” she screamed. “They’ve taken my melons! Oh, I was afraid something like this would happen!”
“Maybe I can overtake that fellow,” Jerry called to her. “Ride herd on these kids until I get back!”
As he ran toward his own car, Penny was close at his heels. She slid into the seat beside him and they raced down the lane.
“Which way did the truck go?” Jerry demanded. “I was so excited I forgot to notice.”
“It turned right. No sign of it now, though.”
“The fellow is running without lights to make it harder for us to follow him.”
Jerry and Penny both were hopeful that they could overtake the truck, which carried a heavy load. However, they had been delayed several minutes in getting started, and as the miles fell behind them, they caught no glimpse of the man they pursued.
“He must have turned off on that little side road we passed a quarter of a mile back,” Penny declared in discouragement. “Switch off the engine a minute.”
Bringing the car to a standstill, Jerry did as instructed. Both listened intently. From far over the hills they thought they could hear the muffled roar of a powerful motor.
“You’re right, Penny! He turned off at that side road!” Jerry exclaimed, backing the coupe around. “We’ll get him yet!”
Retracing their route, they started down the narrow rutty highway. Five minutes later, rounding a sharp bend, they caught their first glimpse of the truck, a dark object silhouetted in the moonlight. Only for a moment did it remain visible, and then, descending a hill, was lost to view.
“We’re gaining fast,” Jerry said in satisfaction. “It won’t be long now.”
The coupe rattled over a bridge. For no reason at all it began to bump, a loud pounding noise coming from the rear of the car.
“Gracious! What now?” Penny exclaimed.
“A flat,” Jerry answered tersely. “Just our luck.”
Pulling up at the side of the road, he jumped out to peer at the tires. As he had feared, the left rear one was down.
“We’ll probably lose that fellow now,” he said irritably.
With Penny holding a flashlight, the reporter worked as fast as he could to change the tire. However, nearly fifteen minutes elapsed before the task had been accomplished.
“We may as well turn back,” he said, tossing tools into the back of the car. “How about it?”
“Oh, let’s keep on a little farther,” Penny pleaded. “If we drive fast we might still overtake him.”
Without much hope, they resumed the pursuit. Tires whined a protest as they swung around sharp corners, and the motor began to heat.
“This old bus can’t take it any more,” Jerry declared, slackening speed again. “No sense in ruining the car.”
Penny had been watching the road carefully. They had passed no bisecting highways, so she felt certain that the truck could not have turned off. On either side of the unpaved thoroughfare were lonely stretches of swamp and woods.
“Let’s not turn back yet,” she pleaded. “We still have a chance.”
“Okay,” Jerry consented, “but don’t forget we have six orphans waiting for us at the Davis place.”
The car went on for another eight miles. Then came a welcome stretch of pavement.
“We must be getting near the state line,” Jerry remarked. “Yeah, there it is.”
Directly ahead was a tiny brick building with an official waiting to inspect cars which passed beyond that point. A series of markers warned the motorist to halt at the designated place.
As Jerry drew up, a man came from the little building.
“Carrying any shrubs, plants or fruit?” he began but the reporter cut him short.
“We’re following a stolen truck!” he exclaimed. “Has a red truck loaded with cantaloupes gone through here tonight?”
“I checked one about fifteen minutes ago.”
“Fifteen minutes!” Jerry groaned. “That finishes us.”
“The trucker could have reached Claymore by this time,” the inspector responded. “Once in the city you wouldn’t have much chance to pick him up. I have the truck license number though. If you’ll give me all the facts, I’ll make a report to Claymore police.”
There was no point in pursuing the thief farther. Accordingly, Penny and Jerry provided the requested information, and then drove to the Davis farm. Regretfully, they told Mrs. Davis of their failure to trace the melon thief.
“I’ve lost my crop, the truck—everything,” she said in a crushed voice. “What’s the use trying anyhow? A body would be smarter to go along with ’em than to try to fight.”
“I take it you have a pretty fair idea who it was that came here tonight?” Jerry said shrewdly. “Who are these Hoods?”
“I don’t dare tell you,” the woman answered fearfully. “You saw what they did tonight. They threw the blame of the Preston fire on Clem. They’ll do worse things if I don’t keep mum.”
“You want to help your husband, don’t you?” Penny inquired.
“Of course I do! But I know better than to talk.”
“You’ve been warned?” Jerry pursued the subject.
“Yes, I have. Now don’t ask me any more questions. I’ve told you too much already.”
“I just want to know one thing,” Jerry said relentlessly. “Did your trouble start because you and your husband refused to join the Holloway Cooperative?”
“Maybe it did,” the woman answered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I ain’t saying.”
It was apparent to Jerry and Penny that they could expect no assistance from Mrs. Davis. Although the events of the night had convinced them that Clem Davis was innocent, others would not share their opinion. They felt that by shielding the guilty parties, Mrs. Davis was adopting a very stupid attitude.
“Come along, Penny,” Jerry said with a shrug. “Let’s be moving.”
Six reluctant orphans were rounded up from the hay loft where a boisterous game of hide and seek was in progress.
“I can jam four into my coupe if you can handle the other two in your car,” Jerry remarked to Penny. “If they make you any trouble, just toot the horn twice, and I’ll come back and settle with ’em!”
“Oh, we’ll get along fine,” she smiled. “Come along, boys.”
“Here’s a souvenir to remember the night by,” Jerry said. From the ground he picked up two melons which he handed to the orphans. “Just don’t sock the matron with them when you get back to the Home!”
“Jerry, let me see one of those melons!” Penny exclaimed suddenly. “They fell from the truck, didn’t they?”
“I guess so,” Jerry responded, surprised by her display of interest. “What about ’em?”
“I’ll show you.”
Turning on the dash light of the car, Penny held the melon in its warm glow. Slowly, she turned it in her hands.
“There!” she said, pointing to a tiny triangle shaped marking on the cantaloupe. “This may prove a clue which will lead to the capture of the thief!”
“I don’t get it,” answered Jerry. “What clue?”
“Why, this stamping on the melon!” she replied excitedly. “The Hoods must intend to sell that load of cantaloupes. If they do, we may be able to trace the shipment.”
CHAPTER
12
ADELLE’S DISAPPEARANCE
Jerry took the melon from Penny’s hand to examine it.
“This stamp may be helpful,” he said dubiously, “but I doubt it. The Hoods never would be so stupid as to sell melons which could be traced. No, I think our investigation will have to center close at home.”
“You’re referring to the Holloway Cooperative, Jerry?”
“That outfit certainly merits an investigation. In the morning I’ll jog out to their packing plant and talk to the manager, Hank Holloway.”
“What time will you be going, Jerry?”
“About nine o’clock probably.”
“Perhaps I’ll meet you there,” Penny said thoughtfully. “That is, if you don’t mind.”
“Glad to have you,” the reporter responded in a hearty voice.
The two cars soon started for the Riverview Orphans’ Home, arriving there without mishap. After unloading the boys entrusted to their care, Jerry and Penny then went to their respective residences.
“I’m glad you came at last,” Mrs. Weems remarked as the girl entered the house. “You’re to telephone Miss Anderson at the Riverview Orphans’ Home.”
“But I just left there,” Penny protested. “When did the call come?”
“About fifteen minutes ago.”
Wondering what could be amiss, Penny went to the telephone. In a moment she was in communication with Miss Anderson, who assisted the matron of the institution. The young woman’s voice betrayed agitation as she disclosed that following the night’s outing, an orphan had been discovered missing.
“Oh, goodness!” Penny exclaimed, aghast. “One of those six boys?”
Miss Anderson’s reply slightly reassured her.
“No, the missing child is a little girl who was not permitted to attend the party because of a severe cold. You may remember her—Adelle.”
“Indeed I do, Miss Anderson. Tell me how I may help.”
“We’ve already organized searching parties,” the young woman returned. “Adelle surely will be found within a few hours. However, if the story gets out it will do the institution no good—particularly at this time when our drive for funds is on.”
“I see,” Penny murmured, “you would like the news kept out of the Star?”
“Can it be arranged?” Miss Anderson asked eagerly. “If you will talk to your father about it we’ll be very grateful.”
“I’ll ask him not to print the story,” Penny promised, none too pleased by the request. “I do hope Adelle is found soon.”
She could not help feeling that the institution officials seemed far more worried about the prospect of unfavorable publicity than over the missing child’s welfare. Saying goodbye to Miss Anderson, she sought her father who was reading in the library.
“Penny, you know I don’t like to grant such favors,” Mr. Parker frowned when the conversation was repeated to him. “As a matter of principle, it never pays to withhold information unless the telling will harm innocent persons.”
“In this case, it will damage the institution,” Penny argued quietly. “Besides, I feel more or less responsible. What started out as a nice little party for the orphans, ended in a regular brawl. It was planned primarily for Adelle and then she ran away because she wasn’t permitted to attend.”
Starting at the very beginning, Penny told her father everything that had happened during the night. The tale was one of absorbing interest to Mr. Parker. When she had finished, he said:
“Don’t worry about the affair, Penny. I am as interested in the Riverview Camp fund as you are. We’ll give the institution no unfavorable publicity.”
“Oh, thanks, Dad!” she cried gratefully, wrapping her arms about his neck. “You’re just grand!”
“Weak as water, you mean,” he corrected with a chuckle. “By the way, I suppose you know that your friend Blake has been named to the Camp Fund board.”
“No!” Penny exclaimed. “How did that happen?”
“He hinted to Mrs. Van Cleve that he would like to serve. Naturally, after his handsome donation, she couldn’t refuse.”
“Why do you suppose Mr. Blake has taken such a sudden interest in the Home?”
“I wonder myself. I’ve thought from the first that he’s up to something. So far I’ve not been able to figure out his little game.”
“Well, you’re on the board too,” Penny declared, undisturbed. “If he starts any monkey business you can put a quick stop to it.”
“I fear you overestimate my talents,” Mr. Parker responded. “However, I do intend to see that Blake doesn’t profit too much by his donation.”
The hour was late and Penny soon went to bed. Disturbed by Adelle’s disappearance, she did not sleep well. Arising early, she telephoned the Orphans’ Home, hoping to learn that the child had been found. No such good news awaited her.
“Searchers have looked everywhere between here and the Davis farm,” Miss Anderson revealed. “Unless the child is found by noon, it will be necessary to broadcast a general alarm. And that’s certain to bring unfavorable attention to the Home.”
“Is there any chance she could have been kidnaped?” Penny asked thoughtfully.
“Not the slightest,” was the prompt reply. “Adelle took most of her clothes with her. It’s a plain case of a runaway, but most annoying at this time.”
Penny ate a hasty breakfast, and then remembering her appointment with Jerry, drove to the Holloway Cooperative. The buildings were of modern concrete construction, located three and a half miles from Riverview in the heart of the truck farming district.
Jerry Livingston had not yet arrived, so Penny waited in the car. Soon his coupe swung into the drive and pulled up alongside Leaping Lena.
“Sorry to be late,” he apologized. “I was held up at the office.”
Knowing that her father would have told Jerry about Adelle’s disappearance, Penny inquired regarding the latest news.
“So far there’s not a trace of the child,” the reporter answered. “Your father’s sore at himself for promising not to carry the story. It may develop into something big.”
Penny walked beside Jerry to the entrance of the cooperative plant.
“No one seems to worry much about Adelle,” she remarked. “The institution people are afraid of unfavorable publicity, Dad’s alarmed about his story, while you and I are just plain indifferent.”
“I’m not indifferent,” Jerry denied. “In a way I feel responsible for that kid. But what can we do?”
“Nothing, I guess,” acknowledged Penny unwillingly. “Miss Anderson said they had enough searchers.”
Opening the door of the building, they stepped into a huge room which hummed with activity. Girls in uniforms stood at long tables inspecting melons which moved on an endless belt arrangement before them. Sorted as to quality and size, each cantaloupe was stamped and packed in a crate which was then borne away.
“Hank Holloway around here?” Jerry asked one of the workers.
“Over there,” the girl responded, pointing to a burly, red-faced man who stood at the opposite end of the room.
Jerry and Penny approached the manager of the cooperative.
“Good morning,” the man said gruffly, gazing at them critically. “What can I do for you?”
“We’re from the Star,” Jerry informed. “Do you mind answering a few questions?”
“I’m pretty busy,” Hank Holloway responded, frowning. “What do you want to know?”
“There’s a rumor going the rounds that this cooperative has been forcing farmers to market their melons through your organization.”
“It’s a lie!” the manager retorted. “Why they come here begging us to take their stuff! We get better prices than anyone in this section of the state, and we pass the profit right back to the farmers.”
“How do you account for the depredation that’s been going on around here lately? Who would you say is behind it?”
“What d’you mean, depredation?” Hank Holloway demanded.
“The destruction of the Preston barn just as their melons were ready for market. Then last night a truck of cantaloupes was stolen from the Davis place.”
“That so?” the manager asked. “Hadn’t heard about it. Clem Davis always was a worthless, no-good. It wouldn’t surprise me that he covered his harvest with plenty of insurance, and then arranged the snatch so he could collect.”
“That hardly seems reasonable,” Jerry said dryly.
“You asked for my opinion and I’m giving it to you. The Davis melons were so inferior we wouldn’t handle them at the cooperative.”
“Why, I thought their cantaloupes were particularly fine ones!” Penny protested.
“I don’t know what you two are trying to get at!” Hank Holloway said with sudden anger. “The Cooperative does business in a fair and square way. Our books are open for inspection at any time. Now you’ll have to excuse me, for I’ve got work to do.”
With a curt nod, he turned away.
Penny and Jerry wandered about the room for a few minutes, watching the packers. They did not much blame Hank Holloway for showing irritation. Their questions had been very pointed and the man had immediately guessed that their purpose was to uncover facts detrimental to the Cooperative.
“We learned about as much as I expected to,” Jerry said with a shrug, as he and Penny finally left the building. “Naturally one couldn’t hope he’d break down and confess all.”
“What did you really think of him, Jerry?”
“Hard to say,” the reporter answered. “He’s a rough and ready sort, but that’s not against him. There’s no real reason to believe he’s crooked—just a hunch of mine.”
Having been assigned to cover a board meeting, Jerry hurriedly said goodbye to Penny. Left to herself, she drove slowly toward Riverview.
“Since I am so near Seth McGuire’s place, I may as well stop for a minute or two,” she thought impulsively.
Despite many exciting events, Penny had not lost interest in the Hubell clock. Although it seemed reasonable that a faulty mechanism had caused it to strike thirteen, such an explanation did not completely satisfy her. She was eager to learn from the former caretaker if the difficulty had been corrected.
Leaving her car by the main road, Penny went directly to the shop. The door was closed and locked. However, as she turned away, she distinctly heard a voice inside the building. Although she could not make out the words, she was certain that a child had called.
“Who is it?” she shouted.
“Help! Let me out!” came the plaintive cry from inside the shop.
Penny ran to the window and peered into the dark interior. She scarcely was able to believe what she saw. A little girl, her face streaked with tears and dirt, pounded fiercely on the heavy door, seeking release.
“It’s Adelle!” she gasped. “How in the world did she get locked in Mr. McGuire’s shop?”
CHAPTER
13
AN EXTRA STROKE
With all the windows and the door of the shop locked, Penny did not know how to free the imprisoned child. However, as she considered the problem, Seth McGuire appeared on the porch of the cottage.
“Good morning,” he greeted her pleasantly.
“Oh, Mr. McGuire!” Penny exclaimed. “Did you know there is a child locked inside your shop?”
“A child!” the old man exclaimed, coming quickly down the steps. “Why bless me! How can that be?”
“I don’t understand how she got inside, but she’s there! Officials of the Riverview Orphans’ Home have been searching for Adelle Hanover since last night.”
“Wait until I get my key,” the old man said in an agitated voice. “I hope you don’t think I locked the child into the shop!”
Knowing Mr. McGuire as she did, Penny entertained no such thought. Waving encouragingly to Adelle through the window, she waited for the old man to return.
“I locked the door about eleven o’clock last night,” he explained, fumbling nervously with the key. “The little girl must have stolen in there sometime between six o’clock and that hour.”
The old man’s hand shook so that he could not unlock the door. Taking the key, Penny did it for him. Adelle, her hair flying wildly about her face, stumbled out of the shop.
“I’m hungry,” she sobbed. “It was cold in there, and a big rat kept running around. Why did you lock me inside?”
“Why, bless you,” Mr. McGuire murmured, “I never dreamed anyone was inside the shop! How did you get in there?”
“I went inside last night and hid,” Adelle explained in a calmer voice. “It was cold outside and I had to have some place to sleep.”
“You never should have run away from the Home,” Penny reproved. “Why did you do it?”
“Because I don’t like it there,” the child answered defiantly. “I’ll never be adopted like the other children.”
“Why, how silly!” Penny answered. “Of course someone will adopt you.”
Adelle shook her head. “Miss Anderson says I won’t be—I heard her tell the matron. It’s on account of a nervous ’fliction. I’m afraid of things, ’specially cars.”
“That’s very natural, everything considered,” Penny replied, thinking of the story Miss Anderson had told her. “Now I’ll take you to the Home.”
Adelle drew away, and as if seeking protection, crowded close beside Mr. McGuire.
“I’m never going back, even if I freeze and starve!” she announced. “I’ll find me a cave and live on berries. It would be more fun than being an orphan.”
Penny gazed despairingly at the old bell maker. With a chuckle, he took the child by the hand and led her toward the cottage.
“We’ll have lunch and talk things over,” he proposed. “How will that be?”
“I’m awful hungry,” Adelle admitted, smiling up at him. “But you won’t give me any old boiled potatoes, will you? We have ’em every single day at the Home.”
“No potatoes,” he laughed. “We’ll have the very nicest things I can find in the icebox, and maybe a stick of candy to top it off.”
While Mr. McGuire pottered about the kitchen preparing a warm meal, Penny washed Adelle and combed her tangled hair. Afterwards, she telephoned officials of the Home, telling them that the child had been found.
“I’ll bring her there within an hour,” she promised. “Just as soon as she has had her lunch.”
Adelle was ravenous. She was not a pretty child, but her face had an elfin quality when she smiled. Her brown eyes, roving about the spick and span little dinette, took in every detail.
“This is almost as nice as it was at our home,” she remarked. “I mean my real home, when Daddy and Mother were alive.”
“You’ll have a nice place again when you are adopted,” Penny assured her kindly.
“I’d like to stay here,” Adelle said, looking thoughtfully at the old man. “Would your wife let me?”
“Why, bless you, I haven’t a wife,” he answered in embarrassment. “I’m a bachelor.”
“Wouldn’t you like a little girl?” Adelle persisted. “I could do your dishes for you and sweep the floor. I’d be real good.”
“Well, now I’ve often thought I would like a nice little girl,” he replied, smiling.
“Then you can have me!” Adelle cried, jumping up from her chair. “You can tell the Home I won’t be back!”
“Not so fast, not so fast,” Mr. McGuire said hastily. “I’d like a little girl, but I am afraid I can’t afford one. You see, I don’t make much money any more and there are other reasons—”
“Oh, I won’t eat much,” Adelle promised. “Please keep me, Mr. McGuire.”
The old man was so distressed that Penny tried to come to his rescue. However, despite repeated explanations, Adelle refused to understand why she could not immediately become Mr. McGuire’s little girl.
“If I had my old job back, I’d be tempted, sorely tempted,” the old man said to Penny. “I’ve always wanted someone that was near and dear to me.” He drew a deep sigh. “As things are, I don’t see how it could be worked out.”
“Won’t you keep thinking about it?” Adelle pleaded. “Anytime you want me, I’ll come right away.”
“Yes, I’ll think about it,” Mr. McGuire promised soberly. “I really will.”
An hour later Penny took a very depressed Adelle back to the Riverview Orphans’ Home. Leaving her there, she drove on into town, chancing to see her chum, Louise Sidell on the street. Signalling her with a toot of the horn, Penny swung wide the door.
“On your way home, Lou?” she inquired.
“No, just wandering around in a daze trying to do a bit of shopping,” Louise answered, sharing the seat. “The stores here never have anything I want.”
“Then why not go to Claymore?” Penny proposed suddenly.
“I would if I could get there.”
“I’ll take you,” Penny offered. “I need to go to Claymore on special business, and I’d like to have someone ride along.”
“Well, I don’t know,” Louise replied dubiously. “I doubt Leaping Lena would stand such a long trip.”
“Oh, I’ll take the other car.”
“In that case the answer is ‘yes,’” Louise replied instantly.
Penny drove directly home to exchange cars and tell Mrs. Weems where she was going.
“Louise and I may not be back until very late,” she warned. “It’s barely possible we’ll attend the theatre while we’re at Claymore. There’s a new play on, and everyone says it’s grand.”
“If you drive after night, be very careful,” the housekeeper responded uneasily. “There are so many accidents these days.”
A brief stop was made at the Sidell residence, and then the girls took to the road. Deliberately, Penny selected the same route which she and Jerry had followed the previous night.
“Is that why we’re going to Claymore?” Louise inquired curiously, as she heard the story of what had happened to the Davis truck. “You intend to trace those stolen melons?”
“I haven’t much hope of doing that,” Penny answered. “I want to visit the telegraph office and get an original message which was sent to Dad. His life has been made miserable by a pest who keeps sending him telegrams, and I’m out to catch the rascal.”
“You jump around from one thing to another so fast I can’t keep track of your enterprises,” Louise sighed.
“I concentrate on the ones which offer a prospect of ready cash,” Penny rejoined with a laugh. “If I catch Mr. Ben Bowman it means exactly one hundred dollars to me!”
Upon reaching Claymore, the girls spent two hours shopping at the large department stores. Penny then made a tour of the telegraph offices, finally locating the one from which Mr. Bowman’s message had been sent. After explaining why she wished it, she was allowed to inspect and keep the original copy which bore the sender’s signature.
“I’ll turn this handwriting over to the police,” she explained to Louise. “They may be able to trace Ben Bowman by means of it.”
“Providing the man ever comes to Riverview,” Louise said skeptically. “It seems like a forlorn hope to me.”
Before leaving the office, Penny inquired of the clerk who had handled the message if a description of Ben Bowman could be provided.
“I really don’t remember him,” the young woman answered. “In general I should say he was well-dressed—probably about thirty-five years of age.”
“Not much to go on,” Penny said regretfully. “Thanks anyhow.”
“Where now?” Louise asked in a weary voice as they finally left the telegraph office. “Shall we buy tickets to the play?”
“Not yet,” said Penny. “I’d like to wander around the market district a bit.”
For the next hour they did exactly that, selecting a section of the city where farmers brought their produce to sell in open stalls. Penny went from one counter to another, inspecting cantaloupes, hoping to find one which bore the Davis stamp.
“I’m getting tired of pawing vegetables!” Louise presently complained. “When do we eat?”
“All right, we may as well call it a day,” Penny replied reluctantly.
In the downtown section of the city, the girls found a small cafe which advertised a deluxe dinner for one dollar. Treating themselves to the best, they enjoyed a leisurely meal, and then bought theatre tickets.
“Penny, do you realize what all this is costing us?” Louise began to worry belatedly.
“Oh, I’ll soon make it up,” Penny joked. “Wait until I capture Ben Bowman! With my profit from him we’ll paint the town red!”
“You’re nothing if not optimistic,” Louise said pityingly.
The play was an excellent one and when the curtain fell at eleven, neither girl begrudged the money paid for tickets.
“It’s been a grand day,” Louise sighed contentedly as they left the theatre. “Let’s get home now as quickly as we can.”
The drive to Riverview consumed nearly an hour. As the girls approached the Hubell Tower, they noted by the illuminated clock face that the hands pointed to twelve o’clock.
“The witching hour of midnight,” Louise remarked. “Do you still think that mechanical creature has supernatural powers?”
“Quiet!” Penny commanded, idling the car as the big clock began to strike. “I’m going to count the strokes.”
“I’ll do it too, just so you can’t pull a fast one on me. That’s two now.”
As each slow note sounded, Louise counted it aloud. Reaching twelve, she paused, but the clock did not. There was a slight break, then another stroke.
“Why, it did strike thirteen!” she gasped. “Or perhaps I became mixed up!”
“You made no mistake,” Penny declared, easing the car to a standstill by the curb. “It struck thirteen, and that last stroke wasn’t like the others!”
“It did seem to have a slightly different tone. I wonder why?”
“Someone may have struck the bell an extra tap!” Penny answered with conviction. “Louise, don’t you see! It must be a signal!”
CHAPTER
14
THROUGH THE WINDOW
“You have the craziest ideas, Penny,” Louise scoffed. “I’ll admit the clock struck an extra time, but it must have been because something is wrong with the mechanism. A signal, my eye!”
Lowering the car window, Penny peered curiously up at the tower which was shrouded in fog and mist.
“Lou, there’s someone up there in the cupola! It may be Charley Phelps!”
“You can’t make a mystery out of Charley,” yawned Louise. “Probably he’s trying to repair the clock. Come on, let’s get home.”
Reluctantly, Penny raised the window glass. Before she could drive on, another car pulled up not far from the tower. The driver, a man in an overcoat, swung open the door as if to alight. However, observing Penny’s car parked close by, he seemed to change his mind. Keeping his head lowered so that his face was shadowed, he drove away.
“Who was that man?” Penny demanded suspiciously.
“I’m afraid I neglected to inquire,” Louise retorted. “So careless of me!”
“Whoever he was, he intended to enter the tower! When he saw us here, he became nervous and drove away!”
“Oh, Penny, you’re the limit.”
“Maybe I am, but I know what I think. The striking of the clock was a signal for some sort of meeting at the tower!”
“A board of directors confab perhaps?” teased Louise.
“Listen!” said Penny, ignoring the jibes. “I want to park the car on a side street, and then come back here afoot. Something is up and I mean to find out about it!”
“Oh, Penny,” Louise sighed. “If I don’t get home Mother never will allow me to go anywhere with you again. Don’t you realize what time it is?”
“Thirteen o’clock!” Penny chuckled. “It may never be that again, so I must strike while the clock strikes, so to speak. How about it?”
“Well, it’s your car,” Louise replied with a shrug. “I’m powerless in your hands.”
Penny drove around a block, parking on a well-lighted street. She and Louise then approached the tower afoot. Not wishing to be seen, they took care to keep close to a high hedge which edged the grounds.
“I never felt more silly in my life,” Louise complained. “What are we supposed to do now?”