The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wishing Well, by Mildred A. Wirt
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: The Wishing Well
Author: Mildred A. Wirt
Release Date: December 18, 2010 [EBook #34689]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WISHING WELL ***
Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Brenda Lewis and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
The
Wishing
Well
_By_
MILDRED A. WIRT
_Author of_
MILDRED A. WIRT MYSTERY STORIES
TRAILER STORIES FOR GIRLS
_Illustrated_
CUPPLES AND LEON COMPANY
_Publishers_
NEW YORK
_PENNY PARKER_
MYSTERY STORIES
_Large 12 mo. Cloth Illustrated_
TALE OF THE WITCH DOLL
THE VANISHING HOUSEBOAT
DANGER AT THE DRAWBRIDGE
BEHIND THE GREEN DOOR
CLUE OF THE SILKEN LADDER
THE SECRET PACT
THE CLOCK STRIKES THIRTEEN
THE WISHING WELL
SABOTEURS ON THE RIVER
GHOST BEYOND THE GATE
HOOFBEATS ON THE TURNPIKE
VOICE FROM THE CAVE
GUILT OF THE BRASS THIEVES
SIGNAL IN THE DARK
WHISPERING WALLS
SWAMP ISLAND
THE CRY AT MIDNIGHT
COPYRIGHT, 1942, BY CUPPLES AND LEON CO.
The Wishing Well
PRINTED IN U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
1 AN OLD HOUSE _1_
2 BY THE COVERED WELL _10_
3 CHICKEN DINNER _21_
4 A RECORD ON ROCK _27_
5 STRANGERS FROM TEXAS _39_
6 A WISH FULFILLED _46_
7 PENNY'S DISCOVERY _54_
8 A MOVING LIGHT _62_
9 MYSTERIOUS PROWLERS _70_
10 BENEATH THE FLAGSTONES _79_
11 JAY FRANKLIN'S TRICKERY _86_
12 NO ADMITTANCE _94_
13 A SILKEN LADDER _101_
14 NIGHT ADVENTURE _110_
15 OLD BOTTLES _117_
16 INSIDE THE MANSION _124_
17 THE MARBOROUGH PEARLS _133_
18 SIGNBOARD INDIANS _140_
19 PUBLICITY PLUS _149_
20 RHODA'S PROBLEM _158_
21 MRS. MARBOROUGH'S LOSS _168_
22 THE MISSING NECKLACE _175_
23 GRAND BALL _185_
24 RIVER RISING _195_
25 PRECIOUS CARGO _202_
CHAPTER
1
_AN OLD HOUSE_
At her desk in the assembly room of Riverview High School, Penny Parker
sat poised for instant flight. Her books had been stacked away, and she
awaited only the closing bell to liberate her from a day of study.
"Now don't forget!" she whispered to her chum, Louise Sidell, who
occupied the desk directly behind. "We start for the old Marborough place
right away!"
The dismissal bell tapped. Penny bolted down the aisle and was one of the
first to reach the door. However, hearing her name called, she was forced
to pause.
"Penelope, will you wait a moment please?" requested the teacher in
charge of assembly.
"Yes, Miss Nelson," Penny dutifully responded, but she shot her chum a
glance of black despair.
"What have you done now?" Louise demanded in an accusing whisper.
"Not a thing," muttered Penny. "About ten minutes ago I clipped Fred
Green with a paper ball, but I don't think she saw me."
"Get out of it as fast as you can," Louise urged. "Unless we start for
the Marborough place within half an hour we'll have to postpone the
trip."
While the other pupils filed slowly from the room, Penny slumped back
into her seat. She was a tall, slim girl with mischievous blue eyes which
hinted of an active mind. Golden hair was accented by a brown sweater
caught at the throat with a conspicuous ornament, a weird looking animal
made of leather.
"Penelope, I don't suppose you know why I asked you to remain," observed
the teacher, slowly coming down the aisle.
"Why, no, Miss Nelson." Penny was far too wise to make damaging
admissions.
"I want to talk to you about Rhoda Wiegand."
"About Rhoda?" Penny echoed, genuinely surprised. The girl was a new
student at Riverview, somewhat older than the members of her class, and
lived in a trailer camp at the outskirts of the city.
Miss Nelson seated herself at a desk opposite Penny, thus indicating that
she meant the talk to be friendly and informal.
"Penelope," she resumed, "you are president of the Palette Club. Why has
Rhoda never been taken in as a member? She is one of our most talented
art students."
"Some of the girls don't seem to like Rhoda very well," Penny answered,
squirming uncomfortably. "We did talk about taking her into the club, but
nothing came of it."
"As president of the organization, couldn't you arrange it?"
"I suppose so," Penny admitted, frowning thoughtfully.
"Why do the girls dislike Rhoda?"
"There doesn't seem to be any special reason for it."
"Her poverty, perhaps?"
"I don't think it's that," Penny defended the club members. "Rhoda is so
quiet that the girls have never become acquainted with her."
"Then I suggest that they make an immediate effort," Miss Nelson ended
the interview. "The Palette Club has no right to an existence unless it
welcomes members with real art talent."
A group of girls awaited Penny when she reached the locker room. They
eagerly plied her with questions as to why she had been detained by the
teacher.
"I'll tell you later," Penny promised.
At the other side of the room Rhoda Wiegand was removing a coat from her
locker. A sober-faced girl of seventeen, she wore a faded blue dress
which seemed to draw all color from her thin face. Knowing that she was
not well liked, she seldom spoke or forced herself upon the other
students.
"Rhoda," began Penny, paying no heed to the amazed glances of her
friends, "the Palette Club is having a meeting this afternoon at the old
Marborough place. Why not come with us?"
The older girl turned quickly, a smile of surprise and pleasure
brightening her face.
"Oh, I should love to go, only I don't think--" Hesitating, she gazed at
the other girls who were eyeing her in a none too friendly way.
Penny gave Louise Sidell a little pinch. Her chum, understanding what was
expected, said with as much warmth as she could: "Yes, do come, Rhoda. We
plan to sketch the old wishing well."
"I have enough drawing material for both of us," Penny added
persuasively.
"If you really want me, of course I'll come!" Rhoda accepted, her voice
rather tremulous. "I've heard about the Marborough homestead, and always
longed to see it."
A group of subdued girls gathered their belongings from the lockers,
preparing to leave the school grounds. No one understood why Penny had
invited Rhoda to attend the outing, and the act had not been a popular
one.
Boarding a bus, the twelve members of the Palette Club soon reached the
end of the line, and from there walked a quarter of a mile into the
country. Penny and Louise chose Rhoda as their companion, trying to make
her feel at ease. Conversation became rather difficult and they were
relieved when, at length, they approached their destination.
"There's the old house," Penny said, indicating a steep pitched roof-top
which could be seen rising above a jungle of tall oaks. "It's been
unoccupied for at least ten years now."
The Marborough homestead, a handsome dwelling of pre-Civil war day, long
had been Riverview's most outstanding architectural curiosity. Only in a
vague way was Penny familiar with its history. The property had been
named Rose Acres and its mistress, Mrs. James Marborough, had moved from
the city many years before, allowing the house to stand unpainted and
untended. Once so beautifully kept, the grounds had become a tangle of
weeds and untrimmed bushes. Even so, the old plantation home with its six
graceful pillars, retained dignity and beauty.
Entering the yard through a space where a gate once had stood, the girls
gazed about with interest. Framed in a clump of giant azaleas was the
statue of an Indian girl with stone feathers in her hair. Beyond, they
caught a glimpse of the river which curved around the south side of the
grounds in a wide bend.
"Where is the old wishing well?" Rhoda inquired. "I've heard so much
about it."
"We're coming to it now," Penny replied, leading the way down an avenue
of oak trees.
Not far from the house stood the old-fashioned covered well. Its base was
of cut stone and on a bronze plate had been engraved the words: "_If you
do a good deed, you can make a wish and it will come true_."
"Some people around Riverview really believe that this old well has the
power to make wishes come true," Louise Sidell remarked, peering at her
reflection mirrored in the water far below. "In the past years when Mrs.
Marborough lived here, it had quite a reputation."
"The water is still good if you don't mind a few germs," Penny added with
a laugh. "I see that someone has replaced the bucket. There was none here
the last time I came."
By means of the long sweep, she lowered the receptacle and brought it up
filled with water.
"Make a wish, Penny," one of her friends urged. "Maybe it will come
true."
"Everyone knows what she'll ask for!" teased Louise. "Her desires are
always the same--a bigger weekly allowance!"
Penny smiled as she drew a dipper of water from the wooden bucket.
"How about the good deed?" she inquired lightly. "I've done nothing
worthy of a demand upon this old well."
"You helped your father round up a group of Night Riders," Louise
reminded her. "Remember the big story you wrote for the _Riverview Star_
which was titled: _The Clock Strikes Thirteen_?"
"I did prevent Clyde Blake from tricking a number of people in this
community," Penny acknowledged. "Perhaps that entitles me to a wish."
Drinking deeply from the dipper, she poured the last drops into the well,
watching as they made concentric circles in the still water below.
"Old well, do your stuff and grant my wish," she entreated. "Please get
busy right away."
"But what is your wish, Penny?" demanded one of the girls. "You have to
tell."
"All right, I wish that this old Marborough property could be restored to
its former beauty."
"You believe in making hard ones," Louise laughed. "I doubt that this
place ever will be fixed up again--at least not until after the property
changes hands."
"It's Rhoda's turn now," Penny said, offering the dipper to her.
The older girl stepped to the edge of the well, her face very serious.
"Do you think wishes really do come true?" she asked thoughtfully.
"Oh, it's only for the fun of it," Louise responded. "But they do say
that in the old days, this well had remarkable powers. At least many
persons came here to make wishes which they claimed came true. I couldn't
believe in it myself."
Rhoda stood for a moment gazing down into the well. Drinking from the
dipper, she allowed a few drops to spatter into the deep cavern below.
"I wish--" she said in a low, tense voice--"I wish that some day Pop and
Mrs. Breen will be repaid for looking after my brother and me. I wish
that they may have more money for food and clothes and a few really nice
things."
An awkward, embarrassing silence descended upon the group of girls.
Everyone knew that Rhoda and her younger brother, Ted, lived at a trailer
camp with a family unrelated to them, but not even Penny had troubled to
learn additional details. From Rhoda's wish it was apparent to all that
the Breens were in dire poverty.
"It's your turn now, Louise," Penny said quickly.
Louise accepted the dipper. Without drinking, she tossed all the water
into the well, saying gaily:
"I wish Penny would grow long ears and a tail! It would serve her right
for solving so many mystery cases!"
The other girls made equally frivolous wishes. Thereafter, they abandoned
fun for serious work, getting out their sketching materials. Penny and
Louise began to draw the old well, but Rhoda, intrigued by the classical
beauty of the house, decided to try to transfer it to paper.
"You do nice work," Penny praised, gazing over the older girl's shoulder.
"The rest of us can't begin to match it."
"You may have the sketch when I finish," Rhoda offered.
As she spoke, the girls were startled to hear a commotion in the bushes
behind the house. Chickens began to cackle, and to their ears came the
sound of pounding feet.
Suddenly, from the direction of the river, a young man darted into view,
pursued by an elderly man who was less agile. To the girls, it was
immediately apparent why the youth was being chased, for he carried a fat
hen beneath his arm, and ran with hat pulled low over his face.
"A chicken thief!" Penny exclaimed, springing to her feet. "Come on,
girls, let's head him off!"
CHAPTER
2
_BY THE COVERED WELL_
Seeing the group of girls by the wishing well, the youth swerved, and
fled in the opposite direction. Darting into the woods, he ran so swiftly
that Penny realized pursuit would be futile.
"Who was he?" she questioned the others. "Did any of you recognize him?"
"I'm sure I've seen him somewhere," Louise Sidell declared. "Were you
able to see his face, Rhoda?"
The older girl did not answer, for at that moment the man who had pursued
the boy ran into the yard. Breathing hard, he paused near the well.
"Did you see a boy come through here?" he asked abruptly. "The rascal
stole one of my good layin' hens."
"We saw him," Penny answered, "but I'm sure you'll never overtake him
now. He ran into the woods."
"Reckon you're right," the man muttered, seating himself on the stone rim
of the wishing well. "I'm tuckered." Taking out a red-bandana
handkerchief, he wiped perspiration from his forehead.
Penny thought that she recognized the man as a stonecutter who lived in a
shack at the river's edge. He was a short, muscular individual, strong
despite his age, with hands roughened by hard labor. His face had been
browned by wind and sun; gray eyes squinted as if ever viewing the world
with suspicion and hate.
"Aren't you Truman Crocker?" Penny inquired curiously.
"That's my tag," the stonecutter answered, drawing himself a drink of
water from the well. "What are you young 'uns doing here?"
"Oh, our club came to sketch," Penny returned. "You live close by, don't
you?"
"Down yonder," the man replied, draining the dipper in a thirsty gulp. "I
been haulin' stone all day. It's a hard way to make a living, let me tell
you. Then I come home to find that young rascal making off with my
chickens!"
"Do you know who he was?" asked Louise.
"No, but this ain't the first time he's paid me a visit. Last week he
stole one of my best Rhode Island Reds. I'm plumb disgusted."
Rhoda abruptly arose from the grass, gathering together her sketching
materials. As if to put an end to the conversation, she remarked:
"It will soon be dark, girls. I think I should start home."
"We'll all be leaving in a few minutes," Penny replied. "Let's look
around a bit more though, before we go."
"You won't see nothin' worth lookin' at around here," the stonecutter
said contemptuously. "This old house ain't much any more. There's good
lumber in it though, and the foundation has some first class stone."
"You speak as if you had designs on it," Penny laughed. "It would be a
shame to tear down a beautiful old house such as this."
"What's it good for?" the man shrugged. "There ain't no one lived here in
ten or twelve years. Not since the old lady went off."
"Did you know Mrs. Marborough?"
"Oh, we said howdy to each other when we'd meet, but that was the size of
it. The old lady didn't like me none and I thought the same of her. She
never wanted my chickens runnin' over her yard. Ain't it a pity she can't
see 'em now?"
With a throaty sound, half chuckle, half sneer, the man arose and walked
with the girls around the house.
"If you want to look inside, there's a shutter off on the east livin'
room window," he informed. "Everything's just like the old lady left it."
"You don't mean the furniture is still in the house!" Rhoda exclaimed
incredulously.
"There ain't nothing been changed. I never could figure why someone
didn't come in an' haul off her stuff, but it's stood all these years."
Their curiosity aroused, the girls hastened to the window that Truman
Crocker had mentioned. Flattening her face against the dirty pane, Penny
peered inside.
"He's right!" she announced. "The furniture is still covered by sheets!
Why, that's funny."
"What is?" inquired Louise impatiently.
"There's a lady's hat lying on the table!"
"It must be quite out of style by this time," Louise laughed.
"A _new_ hat," Penny said with emphasis. "And a purse lying beside it!"
At the other side of the house, an outside door squeaked. Turning around,
the group of girls stared almost as if they were gazing at a ghost. An
old lady in a long blue silk dress with lace collar and cuffs, stepped
out onto the veranda. She gazed beyond the girls toward Truman Crocker
who leaned against a tree. Seeing the woman, he straightened to alert
attention.
"If it ain't Priscilla Marborough!" he exclaimed. "You've come back!"
"I certainly have returned," the old lady retorted with no friendliness
in her voice. "High time someone looked after this place! While I've been
away, you seemingly have used my garden as a chicken run!"
"How did I know you was ever coming back?" Crocker demanded. "Anyhow, the
place has gone to wrack and ruin. A few chickens more nor less shouldn't
make no difference."
"Perhaps not to you, Truman Crocker," Mrs. Marborough returned with
biting emphasis. "You know I am home now, so I warn you--keep your live
stock out of my garden!"
Penny and her friends shared the old stonecutter's chagrin, for they too
were trespassers. Waiting until the woman had finished lecturing Crocker,
they offered an apology for the intrusion.
"We're very sorry," Penny said, speaking for the others. "Of course we
never dreamed that the house was occupied or we wouldn't have peeped
through the window. We came because we wanted to sketch the old wishing
well and your lovely home."
Mrs. Marborough came down the steps toward the girls.
"I quite understand," she said in a far milder tone than she had used in
speaking to the stonecutter. "You may look around as much as you wish.
But first, tell me your names."
One by one they gave them, answering other questions which the old lady
asked. She kept them so busy that they had no opportunity to interpose
any of their own. But at length Penny managed to inquire:
"Mrs. Marborough, are you planning to open up your home again? Everyone
would be so happy if only you should decide to live here!"
"Happy?" the old lady repeated, her eyes twinkling. "Well, maybe some
people would be, and others wouldn't."
"Rose Acres could be made into one of the nicest places in Riverview,"
declared Louise.
"That would take considerable money," replied Mrs. Marborough. "I've not
made any plans yet." Abruptly she turned to face Truman Crocker who was
staring at her. "Must you stand there gawking?" she asked with asperity.
"Get along to your own land, and mind, don't come here again. I'll not
have trespassers."
"You ain't changed a bit, Mrs. Marborough, not a particle," the
stonecutter muttered as he slowly moved off.
Truman Crocker's dismissal had been so curt that Penny and her friends
likewise started to leave the grounds.
"You needn't go unless you want to," Mrs. Marborough said, her tone
softening again. "I never could endure that no-good loafer, Truman
Crocker! All the stepping stones are gone from my garden, and I have an
idea what became of them!"
The group of girls hesitated, scarcely knowing what to do or say. As the
silence became noticeable, Penny tried to make conversation by remarking
that she and her friends had been especially interested in the old
wishing well.
"Is it true that wishes made there have come true?" Rhoda Wiegand
interposed eagerly.
"Yes and no," the old lady smiled. "Hundreds of wishes have been made at
the well over the years. A surprising number of the worthwhile ones have
been granted, so folks say. Tell me, did you say your name is Rhoda?"
"Why, yes," the girl responded, surprised that the old lady had
remembered. "Rhoda Wiegand."
"Wiegand--odd, I don't recall the name. Have your parents lived many
years in Riverview?"
"My mother and father are dead, Mrs. Marborough. My brother and I haven't
any living relatives. Mr. and Mrs. Breen took us in so we wouldn't have
to go to an orphans' home. They have three children of their own, and I'm
afraid we're quite a burden."
"Where do the Breens live, my child?"
"We have a trailer at the Dorset Tourist Camp."
"I've always thought I should enjoy living that way," Mrs. Marborough
declared. "Big houses are entirely too much work. If I decide to clean up
this place, it will take me weeks."
"Can't we all help you?" suggested Louise impulsively. More than anything
else she longed to see the interior of the quaint old house.
"Thank you, my dear, but I shall require no assistance," Mrs. Marborough
replied somewhat stiffly. Obviously dismissing the girls, she added: "Do
come again whenever you like."
During the bus ride to Riverview, the members of the Palette exchanged
comments, speculating upon why the old lady had returned to the city
after such a lengthy absence. One by one they alighted at various street
corners until only Rhoda, Penny, and Louise remained.
"Rhoda, you'll have a long ride to the opposite side of the city," Penny
remarked as she and Louise prepared to leave the bus. "Why not get off
here and let me drive you home in my car? It won't take long to get it
from the garage."
"Oh, that would be too much trouble," Rhoda protested.
"I want to do it," Penny insisted. Taking the girl by the elbow, she
steered her to the bus exit. To Louise she added: "Why not come along
with us?"
"Perhaps I will, if you'll drive your good car--not Leaping Lena."
Penny was the proud possessor of two automobiles, one a handsome maroon
sedan, the other a dilapidated, ancient "flivver" which had an unpleasant
habit of running only when fancy dictated. How she had obtained two cars
was a story in itself--in fact, several of them. The maroon model,
however, had been the gift of Penny's devoted father, Anthony Parker,
publisher of Riverview's leading daily newspaper, _The Star_. He had
presented the car to her in gratitude because she had achieved an
exclusive story for his paper, gaining astounding evidence by probing
behind a certain mysterious _Green Door_.
Delighted with the gift, Penny promptly sold Leaping Lena only to become
so lonesome for her old friend that she had bought it back from a
second-hand dealer. In towing the car home she was involved in an
accident, and there followed a chain of amazing events which ultimately
brought the solution of a mystery case known as _Clue of the Silken
Ladder_. Leaping Lena and trouble always went together, according to
Louise, but Penny felt that every one of her adventures had been worth
while.
"I don't mind taking the maroon car," she replied to her chum. "In fact,
Lena hasn't been running so well lately. I think she has pneumonia of the
carburetor."
"Or maybe it's just old age sneaking up on her!" Louise added with a
teasing laugh.
Reaching the Parker home, Penny ran inside to tell Mrs. Weems, the
housekeeper, that she was taking Rhoda to the trailer camp. Returning a
moment later, she backed the maroon car from the garage with dazzling
skill and further exhibited her prowess as a driver.
"Penny always handles an automobile as if she were enroute to a
three-alarm fire!" Louise assured Rhoda. "A reporter at the _Star_ taught
her how to drive."
Presently, the car arrived at the Dorset Tourist Camp, rolling through an
archway entrance into a tree-shaded area.
"Our trailer is parked over at the north side," Rhoda said, pointing to a
vehicle with faded brown paint.
Penny stopped the car beneath a large maple tree. Immediately three small
children who had been playing close by, rushed up to greet Rhoda. Their
hands and faces were very dirty, frocks unpressed and torn, and their
hair appeared never to have made contact with comb or brush.
"Are these the Breen youngsters?" inquired Louise.
"Yes," Rhoda answered, offering no apology for the way the children
looked. "This is Betty, who is seven. Bobby is five, and Jean is our
baby."
Penny and Louise had no intention of remaining at the camp, but before
they could drive away, Mrs. Breen stepped from the trailer. She came at
once to the car, and Rhoda introduced her.
"I've always told Rhoda to bring her friends out here, but she never
would do it," the woman declared heartily. "Come inside and see our
trailer."
"We really should be going," Penny demurred. "I told our housekeeper I'd
be right back."
"It will only take a minute," Mrs. Breen urged. "I want you to meet my
husband--and there's Ted."
The woman had caught a glimpse of a tall young man as he moved hastily
around the back side of the trailer.
"Oh, Ted!" she called shrilly. "Come here and meet Rhoda's friends!"
"Don't bother about it, Mrs. Breen," Rhoda said in embarrassment.
"Please."
"Nonsense!" the woman replied, and called again. "Ted! Come here, I say!"
With obvious reluctance, the young man approached the automobile. He was
tall and slim with many of Rhoda's facial features. Penny felt certain
that she had seen him before, yet for a minute she could not think where.
"How are you?" the young man responded briefly as he was presented to the
two girls.
"Ted found a little work to do today," Mrs. Breen resumed proudly. "Just
a few minutes ago he brought home a nice plump chicken. We're having it
for dinner!"
Ted gazed over the woman's head, straight at his sister. Seeing the look
which passed between them, Penny suddenly knew where she had seen the
young man. Mrs. Breen's remark had given her the required clue.
Unquestionably, Ted Wiegand was the one who had stolen the chicken from
the old stonecutter!
CHAPTER
3
_CHICKEN DINNER_
The discovery that Rhoda's brother had stolen food was disconcerting to
Penny. Saying good-bye to Mrs. Breen, she prepared to drive away from the
trailer camp.
"Oh, you can't go so soon," the woman protested. "You must stay for
dinner. We're having chicken and there's plenty for everybody!"
"Really we can't remain," Penny declined. "Louise and I both are expected
at home."
"You're just afraid you'll put me to a little trouble," Mrs. Breen
laughed, swinging open the car door and tugging at Penny's hand. "You
have to stay."
Taking a cue from their mother, the three young children surrounded the
girls, fairly forcing them toward the trailer. Ted immediately started in
the opposite direction.
"You come back here, Ted Wiegand!" Mrs. Breen called in a loud voice.
"I don't want any dinner, Mom."
"I know better," Mrs. Breen contradicted cheerfully. "You're just bashful
because we're having two pretty girls visit us. You stay and eat your
victuals like you always do, or I'll box your ears."
"Okay," Ted agreed, glancing at Rhoda again. "It's no use arguing with
you, Mom."
Neither Penny nor Louise wished to remain for dinner, yet they knew of no
way to avoid it without offending Mrs. Breen. Briskly the woman herded
them inside the trailer.
"It's nice, isn't it?" she asked proudly. "We have a little refrigerator
and a good stove and a sink. We're a bit crowded, but that only makes it
more jolly."
A man in shirt sleeves lay on one of the day beds, reading a newspaper.
"Meet my husband," Mrs. Breen said as an afterthought. "Get up, Pop!" she
ordered. "Don't you have any manners?"
The man amiably swung his feet to the floor, grinning at Penny and
Louise.
"I ain't been very well lately," he said, as if feeling that the
situation required an explanation. "The Doc tells me to take it easy."
"That was twenty years ago," Mrs. Breen contributed, an edge to her
voice. "Pop's been resting ever since. But we get along."
Rhoda and Ted, who had followed the others into the trailer, were acutely
embarrassed by the remark. Penny hastily changed the subject to a less
personal one by pretending to show an interest in a book which lay on the
table.
"Oh, that belongs to Rhoda," Mrs. Breen responded carelessly. "She
brought it from the library. Ted and Rhoda always have their noses in a
book. They're my adopted children, you know."
"Mr. and Mrs. Breen have been very kind to us," Rhoda said quietly.
"Stuff and nonsense!" Mrs. Breen retorted. "You've more than earned your
keep. Well, if you'll excuse me now, I'll dish up dinner."
Penny and Louise wondered how so many persons could be fed in such a
small space, especially as the dinette table accommodated only six. Mrs.
Breen solved the problem by giving each of the three small children a
plate of food and sending them outdoors.
"Now we can eat in peace," she remarked, squeezing her ample body beneath
the edge of the low, anchored table. "It's a little crowded, but we can
all get in here."
"I'll take my plate outside," Ted offered.
"No, you stay right here," Mrs. Breen reproved. "I never did see such a
bashful boy! Isn't he the limit?"
Having arranged everything to her satisfaction, she began to dish up
generous helpings of chicken and potato. The food had an appetizing odor
and looked well cooked, but save for a pot of tea, there was nothing
else.
"We're having quite a banquet tonight," Pop Breen remarked
appreciatively. "I'll take a drumstick, Ma, if there ain't no one else
wantin' it."
"You'll take what you get," his wife retorted, slapping the drumstick
onto Penny's plate.
Louise and Penny made a pretense of eating, finding the food much better
than they had expected. Neither Ted nor Rhoda seemed hungry, and Mrs.
Breen immediately called attention to their lack of appetite.
"Why, Ted! What's the matter you're not eating? Are you sick?"
The boy shook his head and got to his feet.
"I'm not hungry, Mom," he mumbled. "Excuse me, please. I have a date with
a fellow at Riverview, and I have to hurry."
Before Mrs. Breen could detain him, he left the trailer.
"I can't understand that boy any more," she observed with a sad shake of
her head. "He hasn't been himself lately."
The younger members of the Breen family quite made up for Ted and Rhoda's
lack of appetite. Time and again they came to the table to have their
plates refilled, until all that remained of the chicken was a few bones.
Penny and Louise felt quite certain that Rhoda realized what her brother
had done and was deeply humiliated by his thievery. To spare the girl
further embarrassment, they declared that they must leave. However, as
they were presenting their excuses, there was a loud rap on the door of
the trailer. Peering from the curtained window, Mrs. Breen immediately
lost her jovial manner.
"_He's_ here again," she whispered. "What are we going to tell him, Pop?"
"Just give him the old stall," her husband suggested, undisturbed.
Reluctantly, Mrs. Breen went to open the door. Without waiting for an
invitation, a well-dressed man of middle age entered the trailer. Penny
immediately recognized him as Jay Franklin, who owned the Dorset Tourist
Camp. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Breen," he began, his manner falsely
cheerful. "I suppose you know why I am here again?"
"About the rent?"
"Precisely." Mr. Franklin consulted a small booklet. "You are behind one
full month in your payments, as of course you must be aware. The amount
totals eight dollars."
"Pop, pay the gentleman," Mrs. Breen commanded.
"Well, now, I ain't got that much on me," her husband rejoined,
responding to his cue. "If you'll drop around in a day or two, Mr.
Franklin--"
"You've been stalling for weeks! Either pay or your electric power will
be cut off!"
"Oh, Mr. Franklin," pleaded Mrs. Breen, "you can't do that to us. Why,
with our refrigerator on the blink, the milk will sour. And I got three
little children."
The man regarded her with cold dislike.
"I am not interested in your personal problems, Mrs. Breen," he said,
delivering his ultimatum. "Either settle your bill in full by tomorrow
morning, or move on!"
CHAPTER
4
_A RECORD ON ROCK_
"What'll we do?" Mrs. Breen murmured, gazing despairingly at her husband.
"Where will we get the money?"
Penny stepped forward into Jay Franklin's range of vision. Observing her
for the first time, he politely doffed his hat, a courtesy he had not
bestowed upon the Breens.
"Mr. Franklin, have you a cheque book?" she inquired.
"Yes, I have," he responded with alacrity.
"Then I'll write a cheque for the eight dollars if that will be
satisfactory," Penny offered. "The Breens are friends of mine."
"That will settle the bill in full, Miss Parker."
Whipping a fountain pen from his pocket, he offered it to her.
"Penny, we can't allow you to assume our debts," Rhoda protested. "Please
don't--"
"Now Rhoda, it's only a loan to tide us over for a few days," Mrs. Breen
interposed. "Ted will get a job and then we'll be able to pay it back."
Penny wrote out the cheque, and cutting short the profuse thanks of the
Breens, declared that she and Louise must return home at once.
"Driving into Riverview?" Mr. Franklin inquired. "My car is in the
garage, and I'll appreciate a lift to town."
"We'll be glad to take you, Mr. Franklin," Penny responded, but without
enthusiasm.
Enroute to Riverview he endeavored to make himself an agreeable
conversationalist.
"So the Breens are friends of yours?" he remarked casually.
"Well, not exactly," Penny corrected. "I met Rhoda at school and visited
her for the first time today. I couldn't help feeling sorry for the
family."
"They're a no-good lot. The old man never works, and the boy either can't
or won't get a job."
"Do you have many such families, Mr. Franklin?"
"Oh, now and then. But I weed them out as fast as I can. One can't be
soft and manage a tourist camp, you know."
Penny smiled, thinking that no person ever would accuse Mr. Franklin of
being "soft." He had the reputation of ruthless devotion to his own
interests. Changing the subject, she remarked that Mrs. Marborough had
returned to the city to take up residence at Rose Acres.
"Is that so?" Mr. Franklin inquired, showing interest in the information.
"Will she recondition the house?"
Penny replied that she had no knowledge of the widow's future plans.
"No doubt Mrs. Marborough has returned to sell the property," Mr.
Franklin said musingly. "I should like to buy that place if it goes for a
fair price. I could make money by remodeling it into a tourist home."
"It would be a pity to turn such a lovely place into a roadside hotel,"
Louise remarked disapprovingly. "Penny and I hope that someday it will be
restored as it was in the old days."
"There would be no profit in it as a residence," Mr. Franklin returned.
"The house is located on a main road though, and as a tourist hotel,
should pay."
Conversation languished, and a few minutes later, Penny dropped the man
at his own home. Although she refrained from speaking of it to Louise,
she neither liked nor trusted Jay Franklin. While it had been his right
to eject the Breens from the tourist camp for non-payment of rent, she
felt that he could have afforded to be more generous. She did not regret
the impulse which had caused her to settle the debt even though it meant
that she must deprive herself of a few luxuries.
After leaving Louise at the Sidell house, Penny drove on home. Entering
the living room, she greeted her father who had arrived from the
newspaper office only a moment before. A late edition of the Star lay on
the table, and she glanced carelessly at it, inquiring: "What's new,
Dad?"
"Nothing worthy of mention," Mr. Parker returned.
Sinking down on the davenport, Penny scanned the front page. Immediately
her attention was drawn to a brief item which appeared in an
inconspicuous bottom corner.
"Here's something!" she exclaimed. "Why, how strange!"
"What is, Penny?"
"It says in this story that a big rock has been found on the farm of Carl
Gleason! The stone bears writing thought to be of Elizabethan origin!"
"Let me see that paper," Mr. Parker said, striding across the room. "I
didn't know any such story was used."
With obvious displeasure, the editor read the brief item which Penny
indicated. Only twenty lines in length, it stated that a stone bearing
both Elizabethan and Indian carving had been found on the nearby farm.
"I don't know how this item got past City Editor DeWitt," Mr. Parker
declared. "It has all the earmarks of a hoax! You didn't by chance write
it, Penny?"
"I certainly did not."
"It reads a little like a Jerry Livingston story," Mr. Parker said,
glancing at the item a second time.
Going to a telephone he called first the _Star_ office and then the home
of the reporter, Jerry Livingston. After talking with the young man
several minutes, he finally hung up the receiver.
"What did he say?" Penny asked curiously.
"Jerry wrote the story, and says it came from a reliable source. He's
coming over here to talk to me about it."
Within ten minutes the reporter arrived at the Parker home. Penny
loitered in the living room to hear the conversation. Jerry long had been
a particular friend of hers and she hoped that her father would not
reprimand him for any mistake he might have made.
"Have a chair," Mr. Parker greeted the young man cordially. "Now tell me
where you got hold of that story."
"Straight from the farmer, Carl Gleason," Jerry responded. "The stone was
dug up on his farm early this morning."
"Did you see it yourself?"
"Not yet. It was hauled to the Museum of Natural Science. Thought I'd
drop around there on my way home and look it over."
"I wish you would," requested the editor. "While the stone may be an
authentic one, I have a deep suspicion someone is trying to pull a fast
trick."
"I'm sorry if I've made a boner, Chief."
"Oh, I'm not blaming you," Mr. Parker assured him. "If the story is a
fake, it was up to DeWitt to question it at the desk. Better look at the
rock though, before you write any more about it."
As Jerry arose to leave, Penny jumped up from her own chair.
"I'd like to see that stone too!" she declared. "Jerry, do you mind if I
go along with you?"
"Glad to have you," he said heartily.
Before Penny could get her hat and coat, Mrs. Maud Weems, the Parker
housekeeper, appeared in the doorway to announce dinner. She was a stout,
pleasant woman of middle-age and had looked after Penny since Mrs.
Parker's death many years before.
"Penny, where are you going now?" she asked, her voice disclosing mild
disapproval.
"Only over to the museum."
"You've not had your dinner."
"Oh, yes, I have," Penny laughed. "I dined on chicken at the Dorset
Tourist Camp. I'll be home in an hour or so."
Jerking coat and hat from the hall closet, she fled from the house before
Mrs. Weems could offer further objections. Jerry made a more ceremonious
departure, joining Penny on the front porch.
At the curb stood the reporter's mud-splattered coupe. The interior was
only slightly less dirty, and before getting in, Penny industriously
brushed off the seat.
"Tell me all about this interesting stone which was found at the Gleason
farm," she commanded, as the car started down the street.
"Nothing to tell except what was in the paper," Jerry shrugged. "The rock
has some writing on it, supposedly similar to early Elizabethan script.
And there are a few Indian characters."
"How could such a stone turn up at Riverview?"
"Carl Gleason found it while he was plowing a field. Apparently, it had
been in the ground for many years."
"I should think so if it bears Elizabethan writing!" Penny laughed. "Why,
that would date it practically in Shakespeare's time!"
"It's written in the style used by the earliest settlers of this
country," Jerry said defensively. "You know, before we had radios and
automobiles and things, this land of ours was occupied by Indians."
"Do tell!" Penny teased.
"The natives camped all along the river, and there may have been an early
English settlement here. So it's perfectly possible that such a stone
could be found."
"Anyway, I am curious to see it," Penny replied.
The car drew up before a large stone building with Doric columns.
Climbing a long series of steps to the front door, Penny and Jerry
entered the museum through a turnstile.
"I want to see the curator, Mr. Kaleman," the reporter remarked, turning
toward a private office near the entrance. "I'll be with you in a
minute."
While waiting, Penny wandered slowly about, inspecting the various
display cases. She was admiring the huge skeleton of a dinosaur when
Jerry returned, followed by an elderly man who wore spectacles. The
reporter introduced the curator, who began to talk enthusiastically of
the ancient stone which had been delivered to the museum that afternoon.
"I shall be very glad to show it to you," he said, leading the way down a
long corridor. "For the present, pending investigation, we have it stored
in the basement."
"What's the verdict?" Jerry inquired. "Do museum authorities consider the
writing authentic?"
"I should not wish to be quoted," Mr. Kaleman prefaced his little speech.
"However, an initial inspection has led us to believe that the stone
bears ancient writings. You understand that it will take exhaustive study
before the museum would venture to state this as a fact."
"The stone couldn't have been faked?" Penny asked thoughtfully.
"Always that is a possibility," Mr. Kaleman acknowledged as he unlocked
the door of a basement room. "However, the stone has weathered evenly, it
appears to have been buried many years, and there are other signs which
point to the authenticity of the writing."
The curator switched on an electric light which disclosed a room
cluttered with miscellaneous objects. There were empty mummy cases, boxes
of excelsior, and various stuffed animals. At the rear of the room was a
large rust colored stone which might have weighed a quarter of a ton.
"Here it is," Mr. Kaleman declared, giving the rock an affectionate pat.
"Notice the uniform coloring throughout. And note the lettering chiseled
on the surface. You will see that the grooves do not differ appreciably
from the remainder of the stone as would be the case if the lettering
were of recent date. It is my belief--don't quote me, of course--that
this writing may open a new and fascinating page of history."
Penny bent to inspect the crude writing. "'Here laeth Ananias'" she read
slowly aloud. "Why, that might be a joke! Wasn't Ananias a dreadful
prevaricator?"
"Ananias was a common name in the early days," Mr. Kaleman said,
displeased by the remark. "Now on the underside of this stone which you
cannot see, there appears part of a quaint message which begins: 'Soon
after you goe for Englande we came hither.'"
"What does it mean?" questioned Jerry.
"This is only my theory, you understand. I believe the message may have
been written by an early settler and left for someone who had gone to
England but expected to return. The writing breaks off, suggesting that
it may have been continued on another stone."
"In that case, similar rocks may be found near here," Jerry said
thoughtfully.
"It is an interesting possibility. On the underside, this stone also
contains a number of Indian characters, no doubt added at a later date.
So far we have not been able to decipher them."
"Just why does the stone have historical value?" Penny interposed.
"Because there never was any proof that English colonists settled in this
part of the state," Mr. Kaleman explained. "If we could prove such were
the case, our contribution to history would be a vital one."
Penny and Jerry asked many other questions, and finally left the museum.
Both had been impressed not only with the huge stone but by the curator's
sincere manner.
"Mr. Kaleman certainly believes the writing is genuine," Penny declared
thoughtfully. "All the same, anyone knows a carved rock can be made to
look very ancient. And that name Ananias makes me wonder."
"The Chief may be right about it being a fake," Jerry returned. "But if
it is, who planted the stone on Gleason's farm? And who would go to so
much unnecessary work just to play a joke?"
Frowning, the reporter started to cross the street just as an automobile
bearing Texas license plates went past, close to the curb. As Jerry
leaped backwards to safety, the automobile halted. Two men occupied the
front seat, and the driver, a well-dressed man of fifty, leaned from the
window.
"Excuse me, sir," he said, addressing Jerry, "we're trying to locate a
boy named Ted Wiegand. He and his sister may be living with a family by
the name of Breen. Could you tell me how to find them?"
"Sorry, but I can't," Jerry answered. "I never heard either of the
names."
"Why, I know both Ted and Rhoda Wiegand," Penny interposed quickly.
"They're living at the Dorset Tourist Camp."
"How do we get there?" the driver of the Texas car inquired.
Jerry provided the requested information. Thanking him, the stranger and
his companion drove on down the street.
"I wonder who they can be?" Penny speculated, staring after the car. "And
why did they come all the way from Texas to see Rhoda and Ted?"
"Friends of yours?" Jerry asked carelessly.
"I like Rhoda very much. Ted seems to be a rather questionable character.
I wonder--"
"You wonder what?" the reporter prompted, helping Penny into the parked
automobile.
"It just came to me, Jerry!" she answered gravely. "Those men may be
officers from Texas sent here to arrest Ted for something he's done! I
never meant to set them on his trail, but I may be responsible for his
arrest!"
CHAPTER
5
_STRANGERS FROM TEXAS_
Jerry smiled broadly as he edged the car from its parking space by the
curb.
"You certainly have a vivid imagination, Penny," he accused. "Those two
men didn't look like plain-clothes men to me. Anyway, if Ted Wiegand had
committed an illegal act, wouldn't it be your duty to turn him over to
the authorities?"
"I suppose so," Penny admitted unwillingly. "Ted stole one of Truman
Crocker's chickens today. It was a dreadful thing to do, but in a way you
couldn't blame him too much. I'm sure the Breens needed food."
"Stealing is stealing. I don't know the lad, but if a fellow is crooked
in small things, he's usually dishonest otherwise as well. Speaking of
Truman Crocker, he was the man who hauled the big rock to the museum."
"Was he?" Penny inquired, not particularly interested in the information.
"I understand he does a great deal of rock hauling around Riverview. A
queer fellow."
Becoming absorbed in her own thoughts, Penny had little to say until the
car drew up in front of the Parker home.
"Won't you come in?" she invited Jerry as she alighted.
"Can't tonight," he declined regretfully. "I have a date at a bowling
alley."
Mr. Parker had been called downtown to attend a meeting, Penny discovered
upon entering the house. Unable to tell him of her trip to the museum,
she tried to interest Mrs. Weems in the story. However, the housekeeper,
who was eager to start for a moving-picture theatre, soon cut her short.
"Excuse me, Penny, but I really must be leaving or I'll be late," she
apologized, putting on her hat.
"I thought you were interested in mystery, Mrs. Weems."
"Mystery, yes," smiled the housekeeper. "To tell you the truth, though, I
can't become very excited over an old stone, no matter what's written on
it."
After Mrs. Weems had gone, Penny was left alone in the big house. She sat
down to read a book but soon laid it aside. To pass the time, she thought
she would make a batch of fudge. But, no sooner had she mixed the sugar
and chocolate together than it seemed like a useless occupation, so she
set aside the pan for Mrs. Weems to finish upon her return from the
movie.
"I know what I'll do!" she thought suddenly. "I wonder why I didn't think
of it sooner?"
Hastening to the telephone she called her chum, Louise, asking her to
come over at once.
"What's up?" the other inquired curiously.
"We're going to carry out a philanthropic enterprise, Lou! I'll tell you
about it when you get here!"
"One of these days you'll choke on some of those big words," Louise
grumbled. "All right, I'll come."
Fifteen minutes later she arrived at the Parker home to find Penny,
garbed in an apron, working industriously in the kitchen.
"Say, what is this?" Louise demanded suspiciously. "If you tricked me
into helping you with the dishes, I'm going straight home!"
"Oh, relax," Penny laughed. "The dishes were done hours ago. We're going
to help out the Old Wishing Well."
"I wish you would explain what you mean."
"It's this way, Lou. The Breens are as poor as church mice, and they need
food. At the Marborough place this afternoon Rhoda made a wish--that her
family would have more to eat. Well, it's up to us to make that wish come
true."
"You're preparing a basket of food to take out to the camp?"
"That's the general idea. We can leave it on the doorstep of the trailer
and slip away without revealing our identity."
"Why, your idea is a splendid one!" Louise suddenly approved. "Of course
Mrs. Weems said it would be all right to fix the basket of food?"
"Oh, she won't mind. I know she would want me to do it if she were here."
Swinging open the porcelain door of the ice box, Penny peered into the
illuminated shelves. The refrigerator was unusually well stocked, for
Mrs. Weems had baked that day in anticipation of week-end appetites.
Without hesitation, Penny handed out a meat loaf, a plum pudding, bunches
of radishes, scrubbed carrots, celery, and a dozen fresh eggs.
"Dash down to the basement and get some canned goods from the supply
shelf," she instructed Louise briskly. "We ought to have jelly too, and a
sample of Mrs. Weems' strawberry preserves."
"You do the dashing, if you don't mind," her chum demurred. "I prefer not
to become too deeply involved in this affair."
"Oh, Mrs. Weems won't care--not a bit," Penny returned as she started for
the basement. "She's the most charitable person in the world."
In a minute she was back, her arms laden with heavy canned goods. Finding
a market basket in the garage, the girls packed the food, wrapping
perishables carefully in waxed paper.
"There! We can't crowd another thing into the basket," Penny declared at
last.
"The ice-box is as bare as Mother Hubbard's cupboard," Louise rejoined.
"What will the Parker family eat tomorrow?"
"Oh, Mrs. Weems can buy more. She'll be a good sport about it, I know."
With no misgivings, Penny carried the heavy basket to the garage and
loaded it into the car. Discovering that the gasoline gauge registered
low, she skillfully siphoned an extra two gallons from her father's car,
and then announced that she was ready to go.
"Don't you ever patronize a filling station?" Louise inquired as her chum
headed the automobile down the street.
"Oh, now and then," Penny grinned. "After that cheque I wrote for the
Breens' rent, I'm feeling rather poor. Dad is much better able to buy
gasoline than I, and he won't begrudge me a couple of gallons."
"You certainly have your family well trained," Louise sighed. "I wish I
knew how you get by with it."
The car toured through Riverview and presently arrived at the entrance of
the Dorset Tourist Camp. An attendant stopped the girls, but allowed them
to drive on when he learned that they did not wish to make reservations
for a cabin. Penny drew up not far from where the Breen trailer was
parked.
"A light is still burning there," Louise observed. "We'll have to be
careful if we don't want to be seen."
As Penny lifted the heavy basket from the rear compartment of the
automobile, she noticed another car standing not far away. It looked
somewhat familiar and in studying it more intently she noted the license
plate.
"Why, it's that same Texas car!" she exclaimed. "Those men must still be
here."
"What car? What men?"
"Oh, this evening two strangers inquired the way to this tourist camp,"
Penny explained briefly. "They said they were looking for Ted Wiegand."
"Friends of his?"
"I don't know who they were or what they wanted. It struck me as odd
though, that they would come from such a long distance."
"Whoever they are, they must be at the trailer now," Louise said after a
moment. "Should we leave the basket on the doorstep or wait until they've
gone?"
"We can't very well wait, Lou. They might decide to stay half the night."
Carrying the basket between them, the girls moved noiselessly toward the
trailer. Blinds had not been drawn and they could see Mr. and Mrs. Breen,
Rhoda, and the two men seated at the table carrying on an animated
discussion.
"I wish I knew why those Texas fellows came here," Penny remarked
thoughtfully. "If we wanted to find out--"
"I'll not listen at any window!" Louise cut her short.
"I was merely thinking we _could_. Of course, I never would do such an
ill-bred thing."
"I'm sure you won't," Louise replied with emphasis. "For a very good
reason too! I shall take you away before temptation sways you."
Depositing the basket of food on the trailer doorstep, she forcibly
pulled Penny to the waiting car.
CHAPTER
6
_A WISH FULFILLED_
At school the next morning, both Penny and Louise eagerly awaited some
indication from Rhoda Wiegand that the basket of food had been discovered
by the Breen family. The girl had failed to appear at five minutes to
nine, and they began to wonder if she intended to absent herself from
classes.
"Oh, by the way, what did Mrs. Weems say about last night's little
episode?" Louise asked her chum curiously.
"Entirely too much," Penny sighed. "She sent me three thousand words on
the budget problems of a housekeeper! If you don't mind, let's allow the
subject to rest in peace."
It was time for the final school bell, and the two girls started toward
the assembly room. Just then Rhoda, breathless from hurrying, came into
the hallway. Her eyes sparkled and obviously, she was rather excited.
"Girls, something strange happened last night!" she greeted Penny and
Louise. "You'll never guess!"
"We couldn't possibly," Louise said soberly.
"Two baskets of food were left at the door of our trailer! It's silly to
say it, I know, but it seems as if my wish at the old well must have had
something to do with it."
"Did you say _two_ baskets of food were left?" Louise questioned, gazing
sideways at Penny.
"Yes, one came early in the evening. Then this morning when Mrs. Breen
opened the door, she found still another. You don't suppose any of the
members of the Palette Club did it, do you? We shouldn't like to accept
charity--"
"I'll ask the girls if you want me to," Penny offered hastily. "If any of
them did, nothing was said about it to me."
"Maybe the old well granted your wish, Rhoda," Louise added. "You know,
folks say it has a reputation for doing good deeds."
The ringing of the school bell brought the conversation to an abrupt end.
However, as Louise and Penny went to their seats, the latter whispered:
"Who do you suppose left that second basket on the Breen doorstep?"
"Probably one of the other club members had the same idea you did,"
Louise responded. "Anyway, the Breens will be well fed for a few days at
least."
At recess Penny made a point of questioning every member of the Palette
Club. Not one of the girls would admit having carried the basket to the
trailer park, but all were agreed that Rhoda should be invited to join
the art organization. Without exception, they liked the girl after
becoming acquainted with her.
"The mystery deepens," Penny commented to Louise as they wandered, arm in
arm, about the school yard. "If no one in the Palette Club prepared the
basket, then who did do it?"
"I guess we'll have to attribute it to the old wishing well after all,"
Louise chuckled. "Let me see your ears, my pet."
"What for? Don't you think I ever wash them?"
"I merely want to see if they've grown since we were at the Marborough
place. Why, goodness me, I believe they are larger!"
Before Penny could think of a suitable retort, Rhoda joined the girls.
Curious to learn more of the two Texas men who had arrived in Riverview,
they gave the newcomer every opportunity to speak of it. As she remained
uncommunicative, Penny brought up the subject by mentioning that two
strangers had asked her how they might locate the trailer family.
"Yes, they found us all right," Rhoda replied briefly. "Mr. Coaten came
to see Ted."
"An old friend, I suppose," Louise remarked.
"Not exactly. I can't figure out just why he did come here."
Rhoda frowned and lapsed into silence. Penny and Louise did not question
her further, and a few minutes later recess ended.
The affairs of the Breen family concerned Penny only slightly. Although
she kept wondering why Mr. Coaten and his companion were in Riverview,
she gave far more thought to the stone which had been dug up on the
Gleason farm. Directly after school she proposed to Louise that they
drive into the country and interview the farmer.
"I don't mind the trip," her chum said, "but why are you so interested in
an old rock?"
"Oh, Dad thinks the whole story may be a hoax. I'd like to learn the
truth, if I can."
Mindful that in the past Penny had brought the _Riverview Star_ many an
important "scoop," Louise was very willing to accompany her on the trip.
Four-thirty found the two girls at the Gleason farm in conversation with
the old farmer.
"I've been pestered to death ever since that rock was found here," he
told them somewhat crossly. "There's nothing new to tell. I was plowing
in the south field back of the barn, when I turned it up. I didn't pay
much attention until Jay Franklin come along and said the writing on it
might interest the museum folks. He gave me a couple of dollars, and paid
to have old man Crocker haul it to town."
"I didn't know Jay Franklin had an interest in the stone," Penny
remarked. "You say he gave you two dollars for it?"
"That's right," the farmer nodded. "I was glad to have the rock hauled
off the place."
Satisfied that they could learn no more, Penny and Louise inspected the
hole from which the stone had been removed, and then drove toward
Riverview.
"Mr. Gleason seemed honest enough," Penny commented thoughtfully. "If the
rock was deliberately planted on his farm I don't believe he had anything
to do with it."
"He isn't sufficiently clever to plan and carry out an idea like that,"
Louise added. "Maybe the writing on the rock is genuine."
"The curator of the museum thinks it may be. All the same, I'll stack
Dad's opinion against them all."
The car approached the old Marborough place, and Penny deliberately
slowed down. To the surprise of the girls, they observed two automobiles
parked in front of the property.
"It looks as if Mrs. Marborough has guests today," Penny commented.
"Shall we stop and say hello?"
"Well, I don't know," Louise replied doubtfully as the car drew up at the
edge of the road. "We're not really acquainted with her, and with others
there--"
"They're leaving now," Penny said, jerking her head to draw attention to
a group of ladies coming down the walk toward the street.
The visitors all were known to the two girls as women prominent in
Riverview club circles. Mrs. Buckmyer, a stout, pompous lady who led the
procession, was speaking to the others in an agitated voice.
"In all my life I never was treated with less courtesy! Mrs. Marborough
at least might have invited us into her house!"
"I always understood that she was a queer person," contributed another,
"but one naturally would expect better manners from a Marborough."
"I shouldn't object to her manners if only she would allow the Pilgrimage
Committee the use of her house," added a third member of the group. "What
a pity that she refuses to consider opening it during the Festival Week."
Still chattering indignantly, the women entered their separate cars and
drove away.
"What did you make of that?" Louise asked in perplexity.
"Apparently Mrs. Marborough gave them the brush off," Penny chuckled. "I
know Mrs. Buckmyer heads the Pilgrimage Committee."
"What's that?"
"Haven't you heard about it, Louise? A group of club women decided to
raise money by conducting a tour of old houses. In this community there
are a number of places which date back over a hundred years."
"And people will pay money to see them?"
"That's the general idea. Festival Week has been set for the twenty-sixth
of this month. During a five-day period the various homes are open,
gardens will be on display, and costume parties may be held at them."
"There's only one colonial house that I'd care about getting inside,"
Louise said. "I should like to see the interior of Rose Acres."
"Maybe we can do it now. Mrs. Marborough invited us to visit her again."
"Yes, but did she really mean it?"
"Why not find out?" Penny laughed, swinging open the car door.
Entering the grounds, the girls saw that very little had been done to the
property since their last visit. A half-hearted attempt had been made to
rake one side of the lawn and an overgrown lilac bush had been
mercilessly mutilated. Shutters on the house remained closed and the
entire place had a gloomy, deserted appearance.
Penny rapped on the door. Evidently Mrs. Marborough had noted the
approach of the two girls for she responded to their knock immediately.
"Good afternoon," Penny began, "we were driving by and thought we would
drop in to see you again."
"How nice of you," Mrs. Marborough smiled. "Look over the garden as much
as you please."
"The garden--" Louise faltered, gazing quickly at Penny.
"Or make wishes at the well," Mrs. Marborough went on hastily. "Go
anywhere you like, and I'll join you as soon as I get a wrap."
The door closed gently in their faces.
"Who wants to see a tangle of weeds?" Louise demanded in a whisper. "Why
didn't Mrs. Marborough invite us into the house?"
"Why indeed?" echoed Penny, frowning thoughtfully. "There can be but one
reason! She has a dark secret which she is trying to hide from the
world!"
CHAPTER
7
_PENNY'S DISCOVERY_
"Hiding a secret, my eye!" laughed Louise. "Penny Parker, sometimes I
think that every person in Riverview suggests mystery and intrigue to
you!"
"Then you explain why Mrs. Marborough doesn't invite us into her house!"
Penny challenged her chum. "And why did she turn the members of the
Pilgrimage Committee away?"
"Oh, probably the place isn't fixed up the way she wants it yet."
"That's no reason. No, she has a different one than that, Lou, and I'm
curious to learn what it is."
"You're always curious," Louise teased, taking Penny by the arm. "Come
along. Let's get a drink at the well."
While the girls were lowering the bucket into the bricked cavern, Mrs.
Marborough joined them, a woolen shawl thrown over her head and
shoulders.
"I've not had time to get much work done yet," she apologized. "I really
must hire a man to clean up the grounds."
"Then you have decided to make your home here?" Louise inquired eagerly.
"For the present, I may. Much depends upon how a certain project turns
out."
Penny and Louise waited hopefully, but Mrs. Marborough said no more.
Changing the subject, she inquired about Rhoda Wiegand and the other
members of the Palette Club.
"I like young people," she declared brightly. "Do tell your friends to
come to Rose Acres whenever they wish."
"A rather strange thing occurred yesterday," Penny said suddenly. "Rhoda
made a wish here at the well, and it came true."
"What was the wish?" the old lady inquired with curiosity.
"That the people with whom she lives might have more food. Two baskets
were left at the trailer camp. Louise and I were responsible for one of
them, but we can't account for the other."
"Very interesting," Mrs. Marborough commented. "In years past, a great
many wishes which were made here, apparently came true. So I can't say
that I am surprised."
"To what do you attribute it?" Louise asked quickly.
"Chance perhaps," Mrs. Marborough smiled. "One cannot explain such
things."
A chill, penetrating wind blew from the direction of the river.
Shivering, Louise drew her jacket collar closer about her neck, remarking
rather pointedly that the weather was turning colder. Even then, Mrs.
Marborough did not suggest that the girls enter the house. A moment
later, however, she excused herself and went inside, leaving them alone
in the garden.
"It does seem odd that she acts so secretive," Louise commented. "I'm
inclined to agree with members of the Pilgrimage Committee that her
manners aren't the best."
"Perhaps you'll finally decide that I am right!" Penny said triumphantly.
"Take my word for it, there's something inside the house she doesn't want
anyone to see!"
Louise started slowly toward the road, only to pause as her chum proposed
that they walk to the river and call upon Truman Crocker, the
stonecutter.
"You intend to tell him who stole his chicken?" Louise asked in surprise.
Penny shook her head. "No, I'll let him discover it for himself. I want
to talk to him about that big rock he hauled to the museum."
Louise could not imagine what useful information her chum might expect to
gain, but she obediently trailed Penny through the rear yard of Rose
Acres, down a sloping path which led to the river.
"I hope you know the way," she remarked dubiously as the going became
more difficult, and they were forced to move slowly.
"Oh, we can't miss the cabin. Crocker's place is the only one near here,"
Penny responded.
The trail was a narrow one, so infrequently used that bushes and vines
had overgrown it in many places. Finally emerging on an open hillside,
the girls were able to gaze down upon the winding river. Recent rains had
swollen it to the very edges of the banks, and from a distance Truman
Crocker's shack appeared to be situated dangerously close to the water.
"Wouldn't you think he would soon be flooded out?" Louise commented,
pausing to catch her breath. "I shouldn't care to live so near the
river."
"Oh, the water never comes much higher," Penny rejoined. "A few years ago
the city built some sort of river control system which takes care of the
spill should there be any. Anyway, Crocker's place wouldn't represent
much of a loss if it did wash away."
The girls regained their breath, and then started down the slope. Penny,
who was leading the way, did not pay particular attention to the rutty
path. Suddenly catching her shoe in a small hole, she tripped and fell
sideways.
"Ooh, my arm!" she squealed. "I struck it on a big rock!"
Louise helped Penny to her feet, brushing dirt from the girl's skirt.
"You've ripped your stocking," she said sympathetically.
"I guess I'm lucky it wasn't my head," Penny returned gazing ruefully at
the tear. "Let's sit down and rest a minute."
Seating herself on the large smooth rock, she gingerly examined a bruised
place on her elbow. Louise stood beside her, plucking burs from her
chum's sweater.
"I'm all right now," Penny said a moment later, getting up. "Why, Lou! Do
you see what I've been sitting on?"
"A rock, my pet."
"A stone that looks exactly like the one at the museum!" Penny cried
excitedly.
"All rocks are pretty much alike, aren't they?"
"Certainly not," Penny corrected. "There are any number of varieties.
This one is quartz unless I'm mistaken and it _does_ resemble the one at
the museum."
"Maybe you can find some writing on it," Louise teased. "The rock only
weighs two or three hundred pounds. Shall I lift it for you so you can
see the under side?"
"Don't bother," Penny retorted, eagerly examining the stone. "I've
already found it."
"Found what?"
"The writing! I _knew_ this stone looked like the one at the museum!"
Louise was certain that her chum merely pretended to have made such an
important discovery. However, as Penny continued to examine the rock in
an intent, absorbed way, she decided to see for herself.
"Why, it's true!" she exclaimed incredulously. "There _is_ writing on the
stone!"
Carved letters, so dimmed by age and weathering processes that they
scarcely remained legible, had been cut unevenly in the hard surface.
"'Went hence vnto heaven 1599,'" Louise deciphered slowly. "Why, 1599
would date this stone almost before there were known settlers in the
country!"
"Almost--but not quite," replied Penny. "Historians believe there were
other settlements before that date. Obviously, this is a burial stone
similar to the one found on the Gleason farm."
"If it's such an old rock why was it never discovered before?"
"The stone may be a fake, but that's not for us to try to figure out.
We've made an important discovery and the museum is sure to be
interested!"
"Don't forget that this is on Mrs. Marborough's property," Louise
reminded her chum. "We'll have to tell her about it."
Retracing their way to Rose Acres, the girls knocked on the door. Mrs.
Marborough soon appeared, looking none too pleased by their unexpected
return.
"What is it?" she asked, blocking the doorway so that the girls could not
see beyond her into the living room.
Breathlessly, Penny told of finding the dated stone on the hillside.
"Did you know such a rock was there?" she asked eagerly.
"I've never seen any stone with writing on it," Mrs. Marborough replied.
"Goodness knows there are plenty of boulders on my property though."
"Another stone similar to it was found yesterday on the Gleason farm,"
Louise revealed. "Do come and see it, Mrs. Marborough."
Before the widow could reply, the three were startled by heavy footsteps
on the veranda. Turning, the girls saw that Jay Franklin had approached
without being observed. Politely, he doffed his hat.
"Excuse me, I couldn't help overhearing your conversation," he said,
bowing again to Mrs. Marborough. "You were saying something about a rock
which bears writing?"
"We found it on the hillside near here," Penny explained. "It has a
date--1599."
"Then it must be a mate to the stone discovered by Mr. Gleason!"
"I'm sure it is."
"Will you take me to the spot where you found it?" Mr. Franklin
requested. "I am tremendously interested."
"Of course," Penny agreed, but her voice lacked enthusiasm.
She glanced toward Louise, noticing that her chum did not look
particularly elated either. Neither could have explained the feeling, but
Jay Franklin's arrival detracted from the pleasure of their discovery.
Although ashamed of their suspicions, they were afraid that the man might
try to take credit for finding the stone.
CHAPTER
8
_A MOVING LIGHT_
As if to confirm the thought of the two girls, Jay Franklin remarked that
should the newly discovered stone prove similar to the one found at the
Gleason farm, he would immediately have it hauled to the Riverview
museum.
"Isn't that for Mrs. Marborough to decide?" Penny asked dryly. "The rock
is on her land, you know."
"To be sure, to be sure," Mr. Franklin nodded, brushing aside the matter
of ownership as if it were of slight consequence.
Mrs. Marborough had gone into the house for a coat. Reappearing, she
followed Mr. Franklin and the two girls down the trail where the huge
stone lay.
"Did you ever notice this rock?" Penny questioned the mistress of Rose
Acres.
"Never," she replied, "but then I doubt that I ever walked in this
particular locality before."
Jay Franklin stooped to examine the carving, excitedly declaring that it
was similar to the marking of the Gleason stone.
"And here are other characters!" he exclaimed, fingering well-weathered
grooves which had escaped Penny's attention. "Indian picture writing!"
"How do you account for two types of carving on the same stone?" Louise
inquired skeptically.
"The Indian characters may have been added at a later date," Mr. Franklin
answered. "For all we know, this rock may be one of the most valuable
relics ever found in our state! From the historical standpoint, of
course. The stone has no commercial value."
"I imagine the museum will want it," Penny said thoughtfully.
"Exactly what I was thinking." Mr. Franklin turned toward Mrs. Marborough
to ask: "You would not object to the museum having this stone?"
"Why, no," she replied. "It has no value to me."
"Then with your permission, I'll arrange to have it hauled to Riverview
without delay. I'll buy the stone from you."
"The museum is entirely welcome to it."
"There is a possibility that the museum will refuse the stone. In that
event you would have the expense of hauling it away again. By purchasing
it outright, I can relieve you of all responsibility."
Giving Mrs. Marborough no opportunity to protest, the real estate man
forced a crisp two dollar bill into her unwilling hand.
"There," he said jovially, "now I am the owner of the stone. I'll just
run down to Truman Crocker's place and ask him to do the hauling for me."
The wind was cold, and after Mr. Franklin had gone, Mrs. Marborough went
quickly to the house, leaving the girls to await his return.
"I knew something like this would happen," Penny declared in annoyance.
"Now it's Mr. Franklin's stone, and the next thing we know, he'll claim
that he discovered it too!"
Louise nodded gloomily, replying that only bad luck had brought the real
estate agent to Rose Acres that particular afternoon.
"I have a sneaking notion he came here to buy Mrs. Marborough's house,"
Penny said musingly. "He thinks it would make a good tourist place!"
For half an hour the girls waited patiently. Neither Jay Franklin nor
Truman Crocker appeared, so at last they decided it was a waste of time
to remain longer. Arriving at home, shortly before the dinner hour, Penny
found her father there ahead of her. To her surprise she learned that he
already knew of the stone which had been discovered at Rose Acres.
"Information certainly travels fast," she commented. "I suppose Jay
Franklin must have peddled the story the minute he reached town."
"Yes, he called at the _Star_ office to report he had found a stone
similar to the one unearthed at the Gleason farm," Mr. Parker nodded.
"_He_ found it!" Penny cried indignantly. "Oh, I knew that old publicity
seeker would steal all the credit! Louise and I discovered that rock, and
I hope you say so in the _Star_."
"Franklin let it drop that he will offer the stone to the museum for five
hundred dollars."
"Well, of all the cheap tricks!" Penny exclaimed, her indignation
mounting. "He bought that rock for two dollars, pretending he meant to
give it to the museum. Just wait until Mrs. Marborough hears about it!"
"Suppose you tell me the facts," Mr. Parker invited.
Penny obligingly revealed how she had found the rock by stumbling against
it in descending a steep path to the river. Upon learning of the
transaction which Jay Franklin had concluded with Mrs. Marborough, Mr.
Parker smiled ruefully.
"Franklin always did have a special talent for making money the easy
way," he declared. "I'll be sorry to see him cheat the museum."
"Dad, you don't think Mr. Kaleman will be foolish enough to pay money for
that rock?" Penny asked in dismay.
"I am afraid he may. He seems convinced that the Gleason stone is a
genuine specimen."
"You still believe the writing to be faked?"
"I do," Mr. Parker responded. "I'll stake my reputation upon it! I said
as much to Jay Franklin today and he rather pointedly hinted that he
would appreciate having me keep my theories entirely to myself."
"I guess he doesn't understand you very well," Penny smiled. "Now you'll
be more determined than ever to expose the hoax--if hoax it is."
Mr. Franklin's action thoroughly annoyed her for she felt that he had
deliberately deceived Mrs. Marborough. Wishing to tell Louise Sidell what
he had done, she immediately telephoned her chum.
"I've learned something you'll want to hear," she disclosed. "No, I can't
tell you over the 'phone. Meet me directly after dinner. We might go for
a sail on the river."
The previous summer Mr. Parker had purchased a small sailboat which he
kept at a summer camp on the river. Occasionally he enjoyed an outing,
but work occupied so much of his time that his daughter and her friends
derived far more enjoyment from the craft than he did.
Louise accepted the invitation with alacrity, and later that evening,
driving to the river with Penny, listened indignantly to a colored
account of how Jay Franklin would profit at the widow's expense. She
agreed with her chum that he had acted dishonestly in trying to sell the
stone.
"Perhaps Mrs. Marborough can claim ownership even now," she suggested
thoughtfully.
"Not without a lawsuit," Penny offered as her opinion. "She sold the rock
to Mr. Franklin for two dollars. Remember his final words: 'Now I am the
owner of the stone.' Oh, he intended to trick her even then!"
The car turned into a private dirt road and soon halted beside a cabin of
logs. A cool breeze came from the river, but the girls were prepared for
it, having worn warm slack suits.
"It's a grand night to sail," Penny declared, leading the way to the
boathouse. "We should get as far as the Marborough place if the breeze
holds."
Launching the dinghy, Louise raised the sail while her chum took charge
of the tiller. As the canvas filled, the boat heeled slightly and began
to pick up speed.
"Now use discretion," Louise warned as the dinghy tilted farther and
farther sideways. "It's all very well to sail on the bias, but I prefer
not to get a ducking!"
During the trip up the river the girls were kept too busy to enjoy the
beauty of the night. However, as the boat approached Truman Crocker's
shack, the breeze suddenly died, barely providing steerage way. Holding
the tiller by the pressure of her knee, Penny slumped into a
half-reclining position.
"Want me to steer for awhile?" Louise inquired.
"Not until we turn and start for home. We'll have the current with us
then, which will help, even if the breeze has died."
Curiously, Penny gazed toward Truman Crocker's cabin which was entirely
dark. High on the hillside stood the old Marborough mansion and there,
too, no lights showed.
"Everyone seems to have gone to bed," she remarked. "It must be late."
Louise held her watch so that she could read the figures in the bright
moonlight and observed that it was only a quarter past ten.
"Anyway, we should be starting for home," Penny said. "Coming about!"
Louise prepared to lower her head as the boom swung over, but to her
surprise the maneuver was not carried through. Instead of turning, the
dinghy kept steadily on its course.
"What's the idea?" she demanded. "Isn't there enough breeze to carry us
around?"
"I was watching that light up on the hill," Penny explained.
Louise twisted in the seat to look over her shoulder.
"What light, Penny?"
"It's gone now, but I saw it an instant ago. There it is again!"
Unmistakably, both girls saw the moving light far up the hill. As they
watched, it seemed to approach the dark Marborough house, and then
receded.
"Probably someone with a lantern," Louise remarked indifferently.
"But why should anyone be prowling about Mrs. Marborough's place at this
hour?"
"It does seem strange."
Deliberately, Penny steered the sailboat toward the beach.
"I think we should investigate," she declared firmly. "Everyone knows
Mrs. Marborough lives alone. Someone may be attempting to break into the
house!"
CHAPTER
9
_MYSTERIOUS PROWLERS_
"Oh, Penny, there must be a perfectly good reason for that moving light,"
Louise protested as the boat grated on the sand. "You only want an excuse
for going to the Marborough place!"
"Perhaps," her chum acknowledged with a grin. "Jump out and pull us in,
will you please?"
"My ankles are nice and dry and I like them that way," Louise retorted.
"If it's all the same, you do the jumping."
"All right, I don't mind--much." With a laugh, Penny gingerly stepped
from the dinghy into shallow water. She pulled the boat farther up onto
the shore so that her chum was able to climb out without wetting her
feet. Together they furled the sail and removed the steering apparatus
which they hid in the nearby bushes.
"I don't see a light now," Louise protested after their various tasks had
been completed. "Must we climb that steep hill?"
"We must," Penny declared firmly, taking her by the hand. "Something may
be wrong at Mrs. Marborough's and we ought to find out about it."
"You just love to investigate things," Louise accused. "You know as well
as I do that there's not likely to be anything amiss."
"Someone may be prowling about the grounds! At any rate, my feet are
cramped from sitting so long in the boat. We need exercise."
Finding a trail, the girls climbed it until they were within a hundred
yards of the Marborough mansion. Emerging from behind a clump of lilac
bushes they suddenly obtained an unobstructed view of the yard.
"There's the light!" Penny whispered. "See! By the wishing well!"
To their knowledge the girls had made no unusual sound. Yet, apparently
the person who prowled in the yard was aware of their approach. As they
watched, the lantern was extinguished. Simultaneously, the moon, which
had been so bright, moved under a dark cloud.
For several seconds the girls could not see the shadowy figure by the
well. When the moon again emerged from behind its shield no one was
visible in the yard.
"Whoever was there has hidden!" Penny whispered excitedly. "Louise, after
we leave he may attempt to break into the house!"
"What ought we to do?"
"I think we should warn Mrs. Marborough."
"The house is dark," Louise said dubiously. "She's probably in bed."
"Wouldn't you want to know about it if someone were prowling about your
premises?"
"Yes, of course--but--"
"Then come on," Penny urged, starting through the tangle of tall grass.
"Mrs. Marborough should be very grateful for the warning. It may prevent
a burglary."
In crossing the yard, the girls kept an alert watch of the bushes but
could see no one hiding behind them. Nevertheless, they felt certain that
the prowler could not have left the grounds.
Penny pounded on the rear door of the Marborough house.
"Not so loud," Louise warned nervously.
"Mrs. Marborough probably is asleep. I want to awaken her."
"You will, don't worry!"
Penny repeated the knock many times, and then was rewarded by the
approach of footsteps. The door opened, and Mrs. Marborough, in lace
night cap and flannel robe, peered suspiciously at the girls.
"What do you want?" she asked crossly. "Why do you awaken me at such an
hour?"
"Don't you remember us?" Penny said, stepping into the light. "We didn't
mean to startle you."
"Startle me, fiddlesticks! I am merely annoyed at being awakened from a
sound slumber."
"I'm terribly sorry," Penny apologized. "We wouldn't bother you, but we
saw someone with a lantern moving about in the yard. We were afraid a
burglar might try to break into the house."
Mrs. Marborough gazed carefully about the yard. "I see no light," she
said stiffly.
"It's gone now," Louise admitted. "As we came up from the river, we
distinctly saw it near the old wishing well. Penny and I thought that
whoever it was hid behind the bushes!"
"You both imagined you saw a light," the old lady said with biting
emphasis. "In any case, I am not afraid of prowlers. My doors have good
bolts and I'll be more than a match for anyone who tries to get inside.
Thank you for your interest in my behalf, but really, I am able to look
after myself."
"I'm sorry," Penny apologized meekly.
"There, your intentions were good," Mrs. Marborough said in a more kindly
tone. "Better go home now and forget it. Young girls shouldn't be abroad
at such a late hour."
After the door had closed, Penny and Louise slowly retraced their way to
the river's edge.
"Someday I'll learn never to pay attention to your crazy ideas, Penny
Parker," Louise said, breaking a lengthy silence.
"You saw the light, didn't you?"
"I thought so, but I'm not sure of anything now. It may have come from
the main road."
"Sorry, but I disagree," replied Penny. "Oh, well, if Mrs. Marborough
wishes to be robbed, I suppose it's her own affair."
Launching the dinghy, the girls spread their canvas, and sailing before
what wind there was, presently reached the Parker camp. Penny's father
awaited them by the boathouse and helped to haul in the craft.
The girls did not tell Mr. Parker of their little adventure, but the next
day at school they discussed it at considerable length. During the night
no attempt had been made by anyone to break into the Marborough house.
Nevertheless, Penny was unwilling to dismiss the affair as one of her
many "mistakes."
She was still thinking about the affair as she wandered into the library
a few minutes before class time. Rhoda Wiegand sat at one of the tables
and appeared troubled.
"Hello, Rhoda," Penny greeted as she searched for a book on the shelf.
"You must have an examination coming up from the way you are frowning!"
"Am I?" the older girl asked, smiling. "I was thinking hard. The truth
is, I am rather puzzled."
"I like puzzles, Rhoda. If you have a knotty problem, why not test it on
me?"
"I doubt if you can help me with this one, Penny. Do you remember those
two Texas men I told you about?"
"Yes, of course."
"I don't trust them," Rhoda said briefly. "Mr. Coaten has offered to
adopt Ted and me."
"Adopt you!" Penny exclaimed. "Is that why they came here?"
"Seemingly, it is. Mr. Coaten wants to become our legal guardian. I can't
understand why he should show such interest in us."
"I thought the Breens were looking after you and Ted."
"They took us in because we had no one else. We never were adopted, and
the truth is, we're a financial burden."
"Is Mr. Coaten an old friend?"
"I never met him until he came to Riverview. He and his friend, Carl
Addison, claim they were closely associated with my father. Neither Ted
nor I ever heard Papa speak of them when he was alive."
"It does seem strange they should show such sudden interest in you,"
Penny commented thoughtfully. "You have no property they might wish to
control?"
"Ted and I haven't a penny to our names. Papa never owned land, and what
cash he had was absorbed by his last sickness."
"Then perhaps Mr. Coaten really is a friend."
"I wish I could think so, but I can't. Penny, I just feel that he has a
selfish purpose behind his apparent kindness. It worries me because I
can't figure it out."
"Then of course you'll not agree to the adoption?"
"I don't want to, Penny. Ted favors it, and so does Mrs. Breen. You see,
Mr. Coaten has been very generous with his money." Rhoda indicated a new
dress which she wore. "He gave me this. He made Mrs. Breen accept money,
and he's giving Ted things too."
"If he's really a friend of the family--"
"I'll never believe that he is," Rhoda interrupted. "Never!"
The ringing of the school bell brought the conversation to an end, but
all during the morning Penny thought of what the trailer-camp girl had
told her. Knowing nothing concerning the characters of the two strangers,
she could not judge their motives.
Another matter caused Penny considerable annoyance. The morning paper had
carried a brief item about the record stone found at the Marborough
mansion. From her father she had learned that instead of delivering the
rock to the museum, Jay Franklin had hauled it to his own home, offering
it for sale to the highest bidder. Penny felt that Mrs. Marborough should
be told what had occurred, yet neither she nor Louise were eager to visit
Rose Acres again.
"After last night I've had enough of that place," Louise declared as they
discussed the matter. "Mrs. Marborough was very rude to us."
"Even so, we should tell her what Jay Franklin has done," Penny insisted.
"Let's go right after school."
"I can't," Louise declined. "I've planned a shopping tour."
"Then, immediately after dinner," Penny persisted. "I'll stop by for you
in the car."
As it developed, various duties kept both girls so busy that it was dusk
before they actually drove toward Rose Acres. Louise protested that,
considering what had occurred the previous night, it was much too late to
call on the widow.
"Mrs. Marborough surely won't be abed before eight o'clock," Penny
answered carelessly. "If the house should be dark, we can drive away
without disturbing her." Louise made another protest, but knew that as
usual Penny would get her way.
A few minutes later the automobile swung around a bend. Directly ahead
loomed the old colonial mansion, its windows without lights.
"We may as well turn back," Louise observed.
Penny slackened speed, gazing toward the unkempt grounds.
"Louise!" she exclaimed tensely. "There it is again! The light!"
"Where?" Louise demanded in disbelief. "I don't see it."
As she spoke, the car passed beyond a tall clump of azalea bushes
bordering the property. Through its branches both girls saw a light which
appeared to be motionless.
"It's a lantern covered with a cloth to prevent a bright glow!" Louise
discerned.
"And it's close to the wishing well!" Penny added in a thrilled voice.
"Lou, there's something queer going on at this place. Let's find out
about it!"
"How?" Louise asked, forgetting that she had decided to have nothing more
to do with her chum's "ideas."
"Let's drive past the house and park up the road," Penny proposed with a
delighted chuckle. "Then we'll steal back afoot and see what we can see!"
CHAPTER
10
_BENEATH THE FLAGSTONES_
Louise offered no serious objection to Penny's proposal, for she too was
curious to learn who might be prowling about the Marborough yard. Driving
on down the road for a considerable distance, they parked the car just
off the pavement and walked back to the estate. A high hedge bounded the
front side of the Marborough property, but they were able to peer through
the scanty foliage into the yard.
"It will be just our luck that the light has disappeared," Penny
muttered. "I don't see it anywhere."
"I do!" Louise whispered excitedly. "Look over there by the wishing
well."
In the darkness, both girls could see the faint glow of a covered lantern
which had been deposited on the ground. A shadowy figure was bending
over, examining some object on the ground.
"Can you tell who it is?" Penny murmured.
"Not from here. Dare we move closer?"
"Let's risk it," Penny said, and led the way through the open gateway.
Taking the precaution to keep tall bushes between themselves and the
wishing well, the girls quietly stole closer. Soon they were near enough
to distinguish that someone in dark clothing was kneeling on the ground,
face turned away from them. Apparently the person was trying to lift one
of the flagstones which formed a circular base about the covered well.
"Who can he be?" Penny whispered, pausing. "And what is he doing?"
At that moment the figure straightened, and the lantern was lifted from
the ground.
"It's a _she_, not a he!" Louise observed in an undertone.
"Mrs. Marborough!"
"It looks like her from here," Louise nodded. "But what can she be doing
at the well?"
Completely mystified, the girls remained motionless, watching. Mrs.
Marborough raised one of the flagstones and peered beneath it.
"She's searching for something," Penny whispered. "Probably she works
after dark so she won't be observed."
It was evident to both girls that the moving light which had attracted
their attention the previous night had, undoubtedly, been Mrs.
Marborough's lantern.
Although they now could understand the old lady's irritation at their
intrusion, her actions mystified them. As they continued to watch, she
pried up one stone after another, frequently resting from her labors.
"We might offer to help her," Louise proposed half-seriously.
"If we show ourselves now she'll order us never to return," Penny
replied. "We want to find out what this is all about."
During the next ten minutes the girls huddled behind the friendly bush.
At the end of that period, Mrs. Marborough gathered together her tools,
and went wearily into the house.
"Obviously she didn't find what she was after," Penny said, coming from
behind the shelter. "What do you suppose it can be?"
"Buried treasure, perhaps."
"Or possibly the family silverware hidden during the Civil War," Penny
chuckled. "I'm afraid not. Mrs. Marborough lived at Rose Acres all her
early years. If there had been anything valuable buried, wouldn't she
have done her searching long ago?"
"If that's a question, I can't answer it," sighed Louise. "What's our
next move? Home?"
"I should say not! Let's inspect the wishing well."
Penny started forward, taking pains to avoid a patch of light which came
from the lower windows of the Marborough house. Even in the semi-darkness
the girls were able to see that many flagstones about the well had been
removed and fitted again into place.
"Just for luck I shall make a wish!" Penny announced unexpectedly,
lowering the bucket into the pit.
"What will it be this time?" Louise inquired, slightly amused.
Penny drank deeply of the cool, sweet water, and tossed a token into the
well.
"I wish that Rose Acres would give us a whopping big mystery!" she said
gaily. "Lou, why did Mrs. Marborough return to Riverview after being away
so many years?"
"This is her ancestral home."
"True, but didn't she tell us that whether or not she remains here
depends upon certain conditions? Lou, she must have had a very special
reason for coming, and it may be connected with this wishing well! We
ought to find out about it!"
"Why?"
"Why?" Penny fairly wailed. "Oh, Lou, at times you're the most
exasperating person. Here we are face to face with something baffling,
and you wonder why we should interest ourselves in it!"
"I like mystery as well as you, but you know Mrs. Marborough won't care
to have us interfere in her private affairs."
"Probably not," Penny conceded. "Oh, well, we can forget all about it if
that's the way you feel."
"How could we learn anything without provoking Mrs. Marborough?"
"I know of no way," Penny admitted. "In fact, she'll probably be
irritated when I rap on her door again."
Louise followed her chum down the path toward the house.
"Ought we bother Mrs. Marborough now?" she asked in mild protest. "She
may think we have been spying on her."
"Which of course we never would consider doing," Penny chuckled.
Paying no heed to Louise, she boldly clomped across the veranda and
knocked on the door. The girls did not have long to wait. In a moment
Mrs. Marborough appeared, looking decidedly flustered and nervous.
"Who is it?" she asked sharply, and then recognized the girls. "Oh, I
see!"
"Mrs. Marborough, do excuse us," Penny began hastily. "I've learned
something which I feel sure you'll wish to hear."
"You've seen another light in the yard perhaps?" the old lady inquired,
her voice slightly mocking.
Penny glanced at Louise, uncertain what to say in reply.
"There has been no one in my yard either last night or this evening,"
Mrs. Marborough resumed tartly. "I appreciate your interest in my
welfare, but I can only repeat that I am quite capable of looking after
myself."
"We came to tell you about that big rock which we discovered on the
hillside," Penny interposed. "Do you care to hear what Jay Franklin did?"
Despite herself, Mrs. Marborough was interested. She hesitated, and then
came outside, carefully closing the door behind her. The peculiar action
was not lost upon the girls.
"It's quite chilly out tonight," Penny said significantly. "Perhaps it
would be better to step inside."
"I don't mind a little fresh air," Mrs. Marborough replied. "Now what is
it that you wish to tell me?"
Feeling far from comfortable, Penny explained how Jay Franklin had kept
the big rock as his own property and was endeavoring to sell it to the
museum at a handsome profit.
"But he told me he would give the stone to the institution!" Mrs.
Marborough exclaimed indignantly. "Will you see Mr. Franklin tomorrow?"
"I can," Penny nodded.
"Then if you do, ask him to come here and see me."
As if the matter were completely settled, Mrs. Marborough started to
reënter the house. She did not invite the girls to accompany her.
However, sensing that they were puzzled by her lack of hospitality she
said apologetically:
"I would invite you in only the house isn't fixed up yet. After
everything is cleaned and straightened, you both must come to tea."
Without giving the girls an opportunity to say that they shouldn't mind a
disorderly house, she gently closed the door.
"Well, at least Mrs. Marborough didn't slam it in our faces this time,"
Penny remarked cheerfully. "Lou, we're making progress!"
"Progress toward what?" Louise demanded.
"I'm not sure yet," Penny laughed as they started for their car. "All the
same, I have a feeling that we're on our way!"
CHAPTER
11
_JAY FRANKLIN'S TRICKERY_
"Morning, Dad," Penny greeted her father as she slid into a vacant chair
at the breakfast table. "What's news and why?"
"No news." Mr. Parker lowered his paper, and folding it, devoted himself
to a plate of bacon and eggs.
"Just fourteen pages of well-set type, I suppose. Isn't there anything
about that big stone Lou and I found at the Marborough place?"
"Not a line. I told you the _Star_ would play that yarn down."
"Why are you so convinced it's all a hoax?" Penny demanded, reaching
across the table for the coffee percolator.
"Must I give you a diagram?" the publisher asked wearily. "After you've
been in the newspaper business as long as I have, you don't need reasons.
You sense things."
"Just like a bloodhound!" Penny teased. "How about the other papers?
Aren't they carrying the story either?"
"They are," Mr. Parker admitted a bit grimly. "The _News_ used a half
page of pictures today and went for the story in a big way."
"I may subscribe to a rival paper just to keep posted on the latest
developments," Penny teased.
"Nothing really new has come out. Jay Franklin is trying to sell the
Marborough stone to the museum at a fancy price, and the institution
officials are seriously considering his proposition."
"Then, in their opinion the stone is an authentic one?"
"Experts have been known to be wrong," Mr. Parker insisted. "I claim no
knowledge of ancient writing, but I do have common sense. For the time
being, at least, I shall continue to play down the story."
Penny finished breakfast, and before starting to school, telephoned Jay
Franklin. Relaying Mrs. Marborough's message, she requested him to visit
the old lady as soon as it was convenient. Somewhat to her surprise he
promised that he would call at Rose Acres that afternoon.
During school, Penny kept thinking about the Marborough stone and her
father's theory that the writing and symbols it bore were fakes. It
occurred to her that Truman Crocker's opinion might be interesting for
the old man had worked with rocks his entire life.
"Let's hike out to his shack this afternoon," she impulsively proposed to
Louise Sidell.
"All right," her chum agreed. "Why not invite Rhoda too? She might enjoy
accompanying us."
Upon being approached, the trailer camp girl immediately accepted the
invitation. Since the last meeting of the Palette Club nearly all of the
students had been very kind to her, but she seemed rather indifferent to
everyone save Louise and Penny.
As the three girls trudged along the dusty road en-route to the river
shack, Rhoda spoke of Mr. Coaten and his friend who still remained in
Riverview.
"They've taken a room at the Riverview Hotel," she told Penny and Louise.
"Perhaps I am too suspicious, but I don't trust them. Mr. Coaten never
would seem like a father to me."
"Is he married?" Louise questioned curiously.
"His wife remained in Dallas. The Coatens have two children of their own.
I can't understand why they should be so eager to adopt two
more--penniless at that."
"What will you do?" Louise inquired.
"I don't know. Ted and I are deadlocked. He favors the adoption, but I am
against it."
"I think you are wise to be cautious--and my advice is 'stand firm,'"
Penny declared promptly. "The Breens were kind enough to take you in when
you had no friends, so why not stay on with them?"
"That's the trouble," Rhoda confessed. "They haven't much money, you
know, and Mr. Coaten has offered to give them a hundred dollars if they
make no objection to the adoption."
"Buying them off?" Penny commented.
"In a way, yes. But why should Mr. Coaten be so interested in adopting
Ted and me? We'll certainly be a financial liability."
The problem was such a perplexing one that neither Penny nor Louise could
offer any convincing answer. Considering everything Rhoda had told them
it appeared that Mr. Coaten must be motivated entirely by generosity.
Yet, it seemed odd that if he were an old family friend he had not
interested himself in their case at the time of Mr. Wiegand's death.
Choosing a trail which led along the river, the girls soon came to Truman
Crocker's shack. It was a long, one-story frame building which served the
dual purpose of dwelling and shop. The door of the workroom stood ajar,
and the stonecutter could be seen grinding a granite block.
"Good afternoon," Penny said in a loud voice to make herself heard.
The stonecutter jumped from surprise and switched off a running motor.
"You scared me out of a year's growth," he grinned. "Well, what can I do
for you?"
"Not much of anything," Penny responded, glancing with interest about the
cluttered workshop. "We were just out for a walk and thought we would
stop in for a few minutes."
Her attention drawn to a large rock which had been covered with wet
sacking, she crossed the room to examine it. Iron filings had been
sprinkled on the covering, and she knew that they must have a special
purpose.
"What is this for?" she inquired curiously.
"Oh, I'm removing discoloration from a stone," Mr. Crocker answered.
"Don't touch the sacking. Leave it alone."
"What do you do with the rock after you finish working on it?" Louise
asked, crossing the room to stand beside Penny.
"I sell it," Mr. Crocker returned briefly. "I have work to do, and I'm
waiting to get at it."
"Oh, we didn't mean to interrupt you," Penny apologized. "The truth is,
we came here to ask you about that stone you hauled for Jay Franklin. Do
you think the writing on it is genuine?"
"Sure it is. Anyone who knows anything about stones could tell it had
been lying in the ground for years."
"The aging couldn't have been faked?"
"Say, what is this?" Crocker demanded, scowling. "What are you trying to
get at?"
"My father, who publishes the _Star_, believes that someone may be
perpetrating a hoax."
"A what?" Crocker asked, puzzled by the word.
"A joke. He thinks that some _clever_ person may have faked the writing
on the two stones."
"Well, I didn't have nothing to do with it," Truman Crocker declared, his
tone unpleasant. "I hauled the rock for Jay Franklin and that's all I
know about it. Now go away and don't pester me."
"We're the same as absent right now," Penny laughed, retreating to the
doorway. "Thanks for your splendid cooperation."
"What's that?"
"Never mind, you wouldn't understand," Penny replied. "Goodbye."
A safe distance from the shack, the three girls expressed their opinion
of the old stonecutter's manners.
"He acted as if we were suspicious of him," Louise declared. "Such a
simple fellow!"
"It never once entered my head that Crocker could have any connection
with the hoax, assuming that the writing isn't genuine," Penny said. "But
now that I think of it, why wouldn't he be a logical person to do such a
trick?"
"He's far too stupid," Louise maintained. "Why, I doubt that he ever went
through eighth grade in school. Likely he never even heard of Elizabethan
writing."
"All true," Penny conceded, "but couldn't someone have employed him? If
he were told to carve a rock in such and such a manner, I'm sure he could
carry out instructions perfectly. He knows more about such work than
anyone in this community."
"Oh, Penny, you're quite hopeless!" Louise laughed. "Just let anyone
rebuff you, and immediately you try to pin a crime on him!"
"I'm not accusing Truman Crocker of anything--at least not yet. All the
same, those two stones were found quite close to his shack. The Gleason
farm isn't more than three-quarters of a mile away."
"Why should Mr. Crocker be interested in playing such a joke?" Rhoda
inquired dubiously. "Or for that matter, any other person?"
"I can't figure it out," Penny acknowledged. "If the stones are fakes,
one would judge them to be the creation of a rather brilliant practical
joker."
"Are you sure you didn't do it yourself?" Louise asked teasingly. "After
all, you were the one who found the second stone, so that throws
suspicion on you!"
Penny allowed the subject to die. With a quick change of interest, she
suggested to her companions that they return to Riverview by way of the
Marborough place.
"Don't you think we're showing ourselves there too frequently," Louise
protested mildly. "There's such a thing as wearing out one's welcome."
"Oh, we needn't try to break into the house." Penny grinned. "But if we
don't go there, we'll never learn any more about the mystery."
Louise and Rhoda were not particularly eager to climb the hill. However,
to oblige Penny they offered no objection to her proposal.
Approaching the Marborough property five minutes later, the girls were
startled to hear loud, angry voices. The sound came from the direction of
the old wishing well.
"Someone is having a fearful argument!" Penny declared, quickening her
step.
As the three friends emerged into the clearing they saw Mrs. Marborough
and Jay Franklin sitting together on a garden bench. The widow was
speaking in a high-pitched voice, reprimanding the caller for having
misled her regarding the record stone found on her land.
"She's giving it to him right, and I'm glad!" Penny chuckled.
"Let's not go any closer," Louise murmured, holding back.
Penny stared at her chum in blank amazement. "Not go closer?" she
demanded. "Why, this is why we came! I thought Mr. Franklin might be
here, and I want to hear what he has to say for himself."
CHAPTER
12
_NO ADMITTANCE_
Neither Louise nor Rhoda approved of interfering in the argument between
Mrs. Marborough and Mr. Franklin, but as usual they could not stand firm
against Penny. Making considerable noise to give warning of their
approach, the girls drew near the garden bench.
"Your conduct has amazed and disappointed me," they heard the old lady
say in clipped words. "When I allowed you to remove the stone from my
yard you promised that you would deliver it to the museum."
"I may have mentioned such a possibility, but I made no promise," Mr.
Franklin replied. "You sold the rock to me. It is now mine to do with as
I see fit."
"You deliberately tricked me! I am less concerned with the money than
with the fact that you are trying to force the museum to pay for
something which I meant them to have free."
"Mrs. Marborough, you sold the rock for two dollars. Unless I am very
much mistaken, that money meant more to you than you would have the
townspeople believe!"
Mrs. Marborough arose from the bench, glaring at the visitor.
"Mr. Franklin, you are insulting! Leave my premises this minute and never
return!"
"I'll be very happy to depart," the man retorted, smiling coldly. "I came
here only because you sent for me. However, if you were inclined to take
a sensible viewpoint, I might make you a business proposition."
"What do you mean by that, Mr. Franklin?"
"I refer to this house here. If you're disposed to sell it I might make
you an offer."
Mrs. Marborough had started toward the house, but then she paused and
regarded him speculatively.
"What is your offer, Mr. Franklin?"
"I'll give you fifteen hundred for the house and grounds."
"Fifteen hundred!" the old lady exclaimed shrilly. "For a house which
cost at least forty thousand to build! Aren't you being outrageously
reckless?"
"Old houses are a drug on the market these days, Madam. You'll find no
other buyer in Riverview, I am quite sure. In fact; I wouldn't make you
such a generous offer except that I think this place might be fixed up as
a tourist home."
"A tourist home!" Mrs. Marborough cried furiously. "You would make this
beautiful, colonial mansion into a cheap hotel! Oh, go away, and never,
never show your face here again!"
"Very well, Madam," Mr. Franklin responded, still smiling. "However, I
warn you that my next offer for the property will not be as generous a
one."
"Generous!" Mrs. Marborough fairly screamed for she was determined to
have the final word. "Your price would be robbery! You're just like your
father, who was one of the worst skinflints I ever knew!"
Mr. Franklin had nothing more to say. With a shrug, he turned and strode
from the yard. Mrs. Marborough gazed after him for a moment, and then
sinking down on the stone bench, began to cry. Hearing footsteps behind
her, she turned her head and saw the three girls. Hastily, she dabbed at
her eyes with a lace handkerchief.
"Oh, Mrs. Marborough, don't feel badly," Penny said quickly. "We heard
what he said to you. Mr. Franklin should be ashamed of himself."
"That man doesn't affect me one way or the other," the old lady announced
with a toss of the head. The girls accepted the explanation with tranquil
faces although they knew very well why Mrs. Marborough had wept. Rhoda
wandered to the wishing well, peering down into the crystal-clear water.
"Do you know, I'm tempted to make another wish," she remarked. "Would it
be very selfish of me?"
"Selfish?" Louise inquired, puzzled.
"The last one came true. I shouldn't expect too much."
"Do make your wish, Rhoda," urged Penny, "but don't anticipate quick
action. I'm still waiting for mine to come true."
Rhoda drew a bucket of water from the well, and filling the dipper which
always hung on a nail of the wooden roof, drank deeply.
"I wish," she said soberly, "I wish that Ted might find a job. If he
could get work, maybe it wouldn't be necessary to accept charity from Mr.
Coaten or anyone!"
Rhoda's wish, so earnestly spoken, slightly embarrassed the others, for
it served to remind them of the girl's poverty.
"Now you make one, Penny," Louise urged to cover an awkward silence.
"I can't think of anything I want," Penny answered.
"Well, I can!" Mrs. Marborough announced unexpectedly. "In all the years
of my life I've never made a wish at this well, but now I shall!"
To the delight of the girls, she reached for the bucket of water. With a
grim face she slammed the entire contents back into the well.
"Just a little token, O wishing well," she muttered. "My desire is a most
worthy one. All I ask is that Jay Franklin be given his come-uppance!"
"We'll all second that wish!" Penny added gaily.
"There!" Mrs. Marborough declared, rather pleased with herself. "That
makes me feel better. Now I'll forget that man and go about my business."
"I think it was selfish of him to take the attitude he did about the
stone," Penny said, wishing to keep an entertaining topic alive.
Mrs. Marborough seemed to have lost all interest in the subject.
Gathering her long skirts about her, she started for the house. Midway up
the flagstone path she paused to say:
"There's a tree of nice summer apples out yonder by the back fence. Pick
all you like and take some home if you care for them."
"Thank you, Mrs. Marborough," Louise responded politely.
After the door had closed behind the old lady, the girls did not
immediately leave the vicinity of the wishing well.
"She means to be kind," Louise commented, drawing figures in the dirt
with her shoe. "But isn't it funny she never invites us into the house?"
"It's downright mysterious," Penny added. "You notice Jay Franklin didn't
get in there either!"
"Why does she act that way?" Rhoda asked in perplexity.
"Penny thinks she's trying to keep folks from discovering something,"
explained Louise. "The old lady is queer in other ways, too."
Thoroughly enjoying the tale, the girls told Rhoda how they had observed
Mrs. Marborough removing the flagstones surrounding the base of the
wishing well.
"There's been more digging!" Penny suddenly cried, springing up from the
bench. "See!"
Excitedly she pointed to a place where additional flagstones had been
lifted and carelessly replaced.
"Mrs. Marborough must have been at work again!" Louise agreed. "What does
she expect to find?"
"Fishing worms, perhaps," Rhoda suggested with a smile. "Under the
flagstones would be a good place."
"Mrs. Marborough never would go fishing," Louise answered. "Sometimes I
wonder if she's entirely right in her mind. It just isn't normal to go
around digging on your own property after night."
"Don't you worry, Mrs. Marborough knows what she is about," Penny
declared. "She's looking for something which is hidden!"
"But what can it be?" Louise speculated. "Nothing she does seems to make
sense."
"She's one of the most interesting characters I've met in many a day,"
Penny said warmly. "I like her better all the time."
"How about those apples?" Rhoda suggested, changing the subject. "I'm
sure Mrs. Breen could use some of them."
As the girls started toward the gnarled old tree, a battered automobile
drew up in front of the house. A man who was dressed in coat and trousers
taken from two separate suits alighted and came briskly up the walk.
"Who is he?" Louise whispered curiously.
"Never saw him before," Penny admitted. "He looks almost like a tramp."
"Or an old clothes man," Rhoda added with a laugh.
Observing the girls, the man doffed his battered derby.
"Is this where Mrs. Marborough lives?" he asked.
"Yes, she is inside," Louise replied.
Bowing again, the man presented himself at the front door, hammering it
loudly with the brass knocker.
"Mrs. Marborough will make short work of him," Penny laughed. "She's so
friendly to visitors!"
Before the girls could walk on to the apple tree, Mrs. Marborough opened
the door.
"Mr. Butterworth?" she asked, without waiting for the man to speak.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Come in," invited Mrs. Marborough, her voice impersonal.
The caller stepped across the threshold and the door swung shut.
"Did you see that?" Louise whispered, stunned by the ease with which the
man had gained admittance.
"I certainly did!" Penny murmured. "That fellow--whoever he is--has
accomplished something that even Riverview's society ladies couldn't
achieve! Maybe I was puzzled before, but now, let me tell you, I'm
completely tied in a knot!"
CHAPTER
13
_A SILKEN LADDER_
As Penny approached the school grounds the following morning, she heard
her name called. A moment later, Rhoda Wiegand, breathless from running,
caught up with her.
"Penny, the most wonderful thing has happened!" she exclaimed.
"Your Texas friends have left town?" the other guessed.
Rhoda shook her head. "Unfortunately, it's not quite that wonderful.
They're still here. This news is about my brother, Ted. He has a job!"
"Why, that's splendid. Exactly what you wished for yesterday afternoon at
the well."
"Penny, doesn't it seem strange?" Rhoda asked soberly. "This makes twice
my wish has come true. How do you account for it?"
"I suppose your brother could have obtained the job through accident,"
Penny answered. "That would be the logical explanation."
"But it all came about in such an unusual way. Judge Harlan saw Ted on
the street and liked his appearance. So he sent a note to the Camp asking
if he would work as a typist in his office."
"Ted is accepting?"
"Oh, yes. The pay is splendid for that sort of work. Besides, it will
give him a chance to study law, which is his life ambition. Oh, Penny,
you can't know how happy I am about it!"
At the mid-morning recess, Penny reported the conversation to Louise.
Both girls were pleased that Ted Wiegand had obtained employment, but it
did seem peculiar to them that the judge would go to such lengths to gain
the services of a young man of questionable character.
"Perhaps he wants to help him," Louise speculated. "Ted is at the
critical point of his life now. He could develop into a very fine person
or just the opposite."
"It's charity, of course. But who put the judge up to it?"
"Mrs. Marborough heard Rhoda express her wish."
"Yes, she did," Penny agreed, "but I don't think she paid much attention.
She was too angry at Jay Franklin. Besides, Mrs. Marborough doesn't have
a reputation for doing kind deeds."
"If you rule her out, there's nothing left but the old wishing well,"
Louise laughed.
"I might be tempted to believe it has unusual powers if ever it would do
anything for me," grumbled Penny. "Not a single one of my wishes has been
granted."
"A mystery seems to be developing at Rose Acres," Louise reminded her.
"I've not learned anything new since I made my wish. Mrs. Marborough
hasn't decided to cooperate with the Pilgrimage Committee either."
The Festival Week program which so interested Penny had been set for the
twentieth of the month and the days immediately following. Gardens were
expected to be at their height at that time, and the owners of seven
fairly old houses had agreed to open their doors to the public. Both
Penny and Louise had helped sell tickets for the motor pilgrimage, but
sales resistance was becoming increasingly difficult to overcome.
"The affair may be a big flop," Penny remarked to her chum. "No one wants
to pay a dollar to see a house which isn't particularly interesting. Now
Rose Acres would draw customers. The women of Riverview are simply torn
with curiosity to get in there."
"I don't believe Mrs. Marborough ever will change her mind."
"Neither do I," Penny agreed gloomily.
Two days elapsed during which nothing happened, according to the
viewpoint of the girls. From Rhoda they learned that Ted was well
established in his new job, and that Mr. Coaten seemed displeased about
it. Mr. Parker reported that Jay Franklin had made progress in his
efforts to sell the Marborough stone to the Riverview Museum. Other than
that, there was no news, no developments of interest.
"Louise, let's visit Truman Crocker again," Penny proposed on Saturday
afternoon when time hung heavily.
"What good would it do?" Louise demurred. "You know very well he doesn't
like to have us around."
"He acted suspicious of us, which made me suspicious of him. I've been
thinking, Lou--if the writing on those two stones were faked, it must
have been done with a chisel--one which would leave a characteristic
mark. Every tool is slightly different, you know."
"All of which leads you to conclude--?"
"That if Truman Crocker did the faking he would have a tool in his
workshop that would make grooves similar to those on the stones. An
expert might compare them and tell."
"Do we consider ourselves experts?"
"Of course not," Penny said impatiently. "But if I could get the right
tool, I could turn it over to someone who knows about such things."
"So you propose to go out to the shack today and appropriate a tool?"
"I'll buy it from Mr. Crocker. Perhaps I can convince him I want to
chisel a tombstone for myself or something of the sort!"
"I used to think you were just plain crazy, Penny Parker," Louise
declared sadly. "Lately you've reached the stage where adjectives are too
weak to describe you!"
A half hour later found the two girls at the Crocker shack. The door of
the workshop stood open, but as Penny and Louise peered inside, they saw
no sign of the old stonecutter. A number of tools lay on a bench where
Crocker had been working, and with no hesitation Penny examined them.
"Here is a chisel," she said in satisfaction. "It seems to be the only
one around too. Just what I need!"
"Penny, you wouldn't dare take it!"
"In my official capacity as a detective--yes. I'll leave more than enough
money to pay for it. Then after I've had it examined by an expert, I'll
return it to Mr. Crocker."
"O Mystery, what crimes are committed in thy name," Louise warbled. "If
you land in jail, my dear Penny, don't expect me to share your cell cot."
"I'll take all the responsibility."
Selecting a bill from her purse, Penny laid it in a conspicuous place on
the workbench.
"There, that should buy three or four chisels," she declared. "Now let's
leave here before Truman Crocker arrives."
Emerging from the shop, Penny and Louise were surprised to see dark storm
clouds scudding overhead. The sun had been completely blotted out and
occasional flashes of lightning brightened a gray sky.
"It's going to rain before we can get to Riverview," Louise declared
uneasily. "We'll be drenched."
"Why not go by way of Mrs. Marborough's place?" Penny proposed. "Then if
the rain does overtake us, we can dodge into the summer house until the
shower passes over."
Hastening toward the hillside trail, the girls observed that the river
level was higher than when last they had seen it. Muddy water lapped
almost at the doorstep of Truman Crocker's shack. A rowboat tied to a
half submerged dock nearby swung restlessly on its long rope.
"I should be afraid to live so close to the river," Louise remarked. "If
the water comes only a few feet higher, Crocker's place will sail South."
"The river control system is supposed to take care of everything," Penny
answered carelessly. "Dad says he doesn't place much faith in it
himself--not if it's ever put to a severe test."
Before the girls had gone far, a few drops of rain splattered down.
Anticipating a deluge, they ran for the dilapidated summer house which
stood at the rear edge of Mrs. Marborough's property. Completely winded,
they sank down on a dusty wooden bench to recapture their breath.
"The clouds are rolling eastward," Louise remarked, scanning the sky. "It
may not rain much after all."
"Lou!" Penny said in a startled voice.
She was gazing toward the old wishing well at a dark figure which could
be seen bending far over the yawning hole.
"What is it?" Louise inquired, turning in surprise.
"Look over there!" Penny directed. "Mrs. Marborough is doing something at
the well. Is she trying to repair it or what?"
"She's examining the inside!" Louise exclaimed. "Why, if she's not
careful, she may fall. We ought to warn her--"
"Mrs. Marborough knows what she is about, Lou. Let's just watch."
From a distance it was not possible to tell exactly what the old lady was
doing. So far as the girls could discern she was tapping the inside
stones of the well with a hammer.
"She's trying to discover if any of them are loose!" Penny whispered
excitedly. "Louise, I'm sure of it now! Something of great value is
hidden in or near the wishing well, and Mrs. Marborough came back to
Riverview to find it!"
"What could it be?"
"I haven't an idea."
"If there's something hidden in or around the well, why doesn't she have
a workman make a thorough search?"
"Probably because she doesn't want folks to suspect what she is about,
Lou. That may explain why she works at night and on very dark, gloomy
days such as today. She doesn't wish to be seen."
"Mrs. Marborough searches in such obvious places," Louise said after a
moment. "If anything really is hidden it might be deep down in the well.
She never will find it in that case."
"We might help her," Penny suggested impulsively.
"You know she would resent our interference."
"She probably would if we tell her what we intend to do."
Louise gazed speculatively at her chum, realizing that Penny had some
plan in mind. She waited expectantly, and then as the other did not
speak, inquired:
"Just what scheme are you hatching now?"
"You gave me the idea yourself," Penny chuckled. "The logical place to
search is deep down inside the well. I'm sure the water can't be more
than a few feet deep."
"So you want me to dive in and drown myself?" Louise joked. "Thank you,
but I prefer to restrict my aquatic exercise to swimming pools!"
"Remember that silk ladder I acquired when I helped police capture Al
Gepper and his slippery pals?" Penny demanded, paying no heed to the
teasing.
"I do," Louise nodded. "It was made of braided silk strands by a Chinese
curio man, and had two iron hooks to claw into the wood of window
ledges."
"Those same hooks will fit very nicely over the side of the wishing well.
I've been waiting for a chance to use that ladder, and here it is!"
"Penny! You actually have the courage to climb down into a well?"
"Why not?" Penny laughed. "But it must be tonight while my enthusiasm is
bubbling. Meet me at nine o'clock and bring a good flashlight."
Louise could only stare. "You're actually serious!"
"Indeed I am," Penny replied gaily. "Everything is settled. Now let's
slip away from here before Mrs. Marborough sees us."
CHAPTER
14
_NIGHT ADVENTURE_
The night, dark and misty, was entirely suitable for the purpose to which
the two girls had dedicated it. Dinner over, Penny obtained the unique
silken ladder from an attic trunk. Compressing it into a small
brief-case, she sauntered through the living room.
"Aren't you becoming quite studious of late?" Mr. Parker inquired, noting
the brief-case tucked under her arm. "Off to the library again?"
"Over to Louise's house," Penny corrected vaguely. "From that point on
there's no guarantee."
"You'll be home early?"
"I hope so," Penny answered earnestly. "If for any reason I fail to
appear, don't search in any of the obvious places."
Leaving her father to ponder over the remark, she hastily quitted the
house. A clock chimed nine o'clock as she reached the Sidell house, and a
moment later her chum joined her in the yard.
"I had trouble getting away," Louise reported. "Mother asked a thousand
questions."
"Did you bring the flashlight?"
"Yes, here it is. My, but it's a dark night!"
"All the better for our purpose," Penny said cheerfully.
A single light burned in the kitchen window of the Marborough house as
the girls presently approached it. The garden was shrouded in damp, wispy
mist and the unkempt grounds never had appeared more desolate.
"Penny, must we go through with this?" Louise asked, rapidly losing
enthusiasm for the venture.
"I'll admit the idea doesn't look quite as attractive as it did this
afternoon," her chum replied. "All the same, I'm going through with it!"
"What can you hope to find down in that well?"
Penny did not answer. Walking ahead of Louise, she noiselessly crossed
the yard to the old wishing well. Flashing her light into the circular
interior, her courage nearly failed her. However, she gave no indication
of it to her companion.
"Better be careful of that light," Louise warned. "That is, unless you
want Mrs. Marborough to come out and catch us."
Penny switched off the flashlight and thereafter worked in darkness.
Taking the silken ladder from its case, she fastened the two iron hooks
over the stone ledge. Next, she lowered the ladder into the well,
listening until she heard a faint splash in the water below.
"Now you stay here and keep watch," she instructed briskly. "I'll be down
and back again before you know it!"
"The ladder may break," Louise said pessimistically, seating herself on
the stone ledge of the well. "Silk deteriorates with age, and those
braided strands never did look strong."
"They once held one of Riverview's most notorious apartment-house
burglars," Penny returned with forced cheerfulness. She climbed over the
ledge, gazing down into the dark well. "It's safe enough--I hope."
"In case you slip and fall, just what am I to do?"
"That's your problem," Penny chuckled. "Now hand me the flashlight. I'm
on my way."
Despite their banter, both girls were tense and worried. By daylight, a
descent into the well had seemed to Penny an amusing stunt; but now as
she cautiously descended into the damp, circular pit, she felt that for
once in her life she had ventured too far.
"What do you see?" Louise called softly from above. "Anything?"
Reminded of the work before her, Penny clung with one hand to the swaying
ladder, while with the other she directed the flashlight beam about the
circular walls. The sides were cracked in many places and covered with a
slimy green moss.
"What do you see, Penny?" Louise called again. "Are any of the bricks
loose?"
"Not that I can discover," Penny answered, and her voice echoed weirdly.
Intrigued by the sound she tried an experimental yodel. "Why, it's just
like a cave scene on the radio!"
"In case you've forgotten, you're in a well," Louise said severely.
"Furthermore, if you don't work fast, Mrs. Marborough will come out
here!"
"I have to have a little relaxation," Penny grumbled.
Descending deeper into the well, she resumed her task of examining the
walls. There were no loose bricks, nothing to indicate that anything ever
had been hidden in the cavern. Reaching the last rung without realizing
it, she stepped not into space, but water.
Surprisingly her foot struck a solid foundation.
Hastily pulling herself back on the ladder, Penny shouted the information
to her chum.
"Lou, the water isn't more than a foot and a half deep! There's an old
boot or something of the sort floating around. You don't catch me
drinking any more of this water. No sir!"
There was no reply from above.
"Louise!" Penny called, flashing her light upward.
"Quiet!" came the whispered response. "I think someone is coming!"
"Mrs. Marborough?" Penny gasped, thoroughly alarmed.
"No! Two men! They're turning in at the gate!"
Penny began to climb the silken ladder with frantic haste.
"You never can get out without them seeing you!" Louise hissed. "I'm
ducking out!"
"Don't you dare!"
"They'll see me if I don't. Stay where you are Penny, and I'll come back
after they go. Oh, the ladder! It's sure to give you away!"
In the emergency, Penny's mind worked with rapidity. Lowering herself
into the well several rungs, she deliberately stepped into the water. To
her relief it came just below her knees.
"Quick! Pull up the ladder!" she instructed.
The two men were so close that Louise dared not obey. Instead she loosed
the iron hooks and dropped the ladder into the well. Penny barely was
able to catch it and prevent a loud splash.
"Of all the tricks--" she muttered, but Louise did not hear. She had fled
into a clump of bushes.
Penny huddled against the slimy wall, listening intently. Thinking that
she heard footsteps, she switched out the flashlight.
"This is the place all right," a masculine voice said. "Wonder if the old
lady is at home?"
"There's a light showing."
The voices faded away, and Penny drew a deep sigh of relief. Impatiently
she waited for Louise to come to her aid. After several minutes she
realized why her chum delayed, for she again heard voices.
"The old lady must be inside the house. Funny she wouldn't come to the
door. They say she's a queer one though."
To Penny's discomfort, the two men paused by the wishing well.
"Want a drink?" she heard one ask.
The voices seemed faintly familiar to Penny and suddenly it dawned upon
her that the two men were Mr. Coaten and his Texas friend. However, she
could think of no reason why they should call upon Mrs. Marborough. Her
reflection came to an abrupt end, as the well bucket splashed into the
water beside her.
Suppressing a giggle, she groped for the old boot which floated nearby.
Dropping it into the bucket, she watched as it was raised to the surface.
A moment later she heard an exclamation of wrath from above.
"See what I've drawn up!" one of the men muttered. "These old wells must
be filled with filth!"
Penny hoped that the strangers would immediately depart, but instead they
loitered by the well, talking.
"We've been wasting entirely too much time in this," remarked the man
whom she took to be Mr. Coaten. "Suppose we were to offer Ted a hundred
dollars to sign the paper. Would he do it?"
"I think he might, but the girl is the one who'll make trouble. She's
shrewd."
"We'll get around her somehow," the other said gruffly. "This thing can't
drag on forever. I have work waiting for me in Texas."
The voices gradually died away and Penny heard no more. However, from the
snatch of conversation, she was convinced that Rhoda's suspicions
regarding the Texas strangers had been well founded. But what had brought
the two men to Riverview?
"If Rhoda or Ted own property, I could understand why it would be
desirable to adopt them," she thought. "As it is, the thing doesn't make
sense."
To keep from freezing, Penny gingerly waded around and around in the
well. It seemed ages before Louise thrust her head over the ledge and
called softly:
"Are you still there, pet?"
"I'm frozen into one big icicle!" Penny retorted. "Get me out of here."
Instructing her chum to lower the bucket, Penny fastened the silken
ladder to the handle. Louise hauled it up, and again hooked the irons to
the ledge of the well.
Stiffly, Penny climbed toward the surface. She had nearly reached the top
when the beam of light chanced to play across a section of brick which
hitherto had escaped her notice. Halting, she traced with her finger a
rectangular pattern on the wall.
"That's not an ordinary crack!" she thought. "It might be an old opening
which has been bricked up!"
"Are you coming?" Louise called impatiently.
"I am," said Penny, emerging from the well. "And don't you dare say that
this night has been a failure. I've just made a most astounding
discovery!"
CHAPTER
15
_OLD BOTTLES_
Penny's startling appearance rather than her words made the deepest
impression upon Louise. The girl's shoes and stockings were wet, her
clothing was smeared with green slime, and strings of moss clung to her
hair.
"You look like Father Neptune emerging from the briny deep," she
chuckled.
"I'm freezing to death," Penny chattered. "Come on, we're going home!"
Louise hauled up the silken ladder from the well. Squeezing out the
water, she compressed it into the carrying case.
"What were you saying about a discovery?" she inquired belatedly.
"Oh, nothing of consequence," Penny answered, pounding her hands together
to restore circulation. "Merely an opening in the side of the well. It
probably leads into a tunnel."
"Penny! Are you sure?"
"I'm not sure of anything except that I'm going home!" Penny replied
crossly.
She started across the lawn with her chum hurrying after her.
"Oh, Penny, I'm terribly sorry," Louise said contritely. "I know you had
an awful time down in the well. But it wasn't my fault those two men
arrived just when they did."
"Who were they?" Penny asked, mollified by the apology. "From their
voices I took them to be Mr. Coaten and his friend."
"That's who they were. But, I can't imagine why they came to see Mrs.
Marborough. Anyway, they didn't get into the house."
"Lou, I heard those men talking while I was down in the well," Penny
revealed. "I'm sure they're dishonest. They want Ted and Rhoda to sign
something over to them."
"But Rhoda said she and her brother have no property."
"I know," Penny frowned. "I can't make head nor tail of the situation.
I'm too miserable to think about anything now."
Pausing beside a tree, she removed one of her shoes. After pouring a
little water from it, she replaced it and went through a similar
procedure with the other shoe.
"Please tell me what else you learned while in the well," Louise pleaded.
"Haven't I been punished enough?"
Her good humor restored, Penny grinned amiably. "To tell you the truth,
Lou, I'm not sure whether I found anything or not."
"But you said--"
"I know. Just as I reached the top of the well I noticed a section of
brick wall which seemed to be cracked in the exact shape of a rectangle."
"Was that all?" Louise asked in disappointment.
"I didn't even take time to examine the place. I felt so disgusted,"
Penny resumed. "However, I believe that if one were able to remove those
loose bricks, an opening might be found behind them."
"Where something may be hidden?"
"It's possible."
"How could one remove the bricks without hiring a workman?" Louise asked
after a moment.
"If they are as loose as I think they are, I might be able to get them
out myself. Not tonight though."
Penny felt in no mood to discuss future possibilities or even to consider
them. Already cold, the misty air added to her physical discomfort.
"Better get a hot shower and go to bed," Louise advised as they finally
reached the Parker home. "We'll talk things over in the morning."
Not desiring to attract attention to herself, Penny entered the house by
a side door. To her discomfiture, Mrs. Weems, who chanced to be getting a
drink in the kitchen, saw the disheveled clothing.
"Why, Penny Parker!" she exclaimed. "What have you done to yourself?"
"Nothing," Penny mumbled. "I'm just a little wet. I've been down in a
well."
"There are times when your jokes don't seem at all funny," the
housekeeper said sternly. "How did you ruin your clothes?"
"That's the truth, Mrs. Weems. I was down in a well and I stepped off
into the water--"
"Penny, you can't expect me to believe such a tall story. Now tell me
exactly what _did_ happen."
"Would it seem more reasonable if I said that I stumbled and fell into a
ditch?"
"I rather thought something of the sort happened," Mrs. Weems declared.
"How did the accident occur?"
"It didn't," Penny maintained plaintively.
Escaping upstairs before the housekeeper could question her further, she
took a hot shower and went to bed. She could hear a murmur of voices in
the living room below, and knew that Mrs. Weems was discussing her
"behavior" with her father.
"Sometimes grownups are so unreasonable," she sighed, snuggling into the
covers. "You tell them the truth and what they really want is a nice
logical whopper!"
Penny slept soundly and did not awaken until the Sunday morning sun was
high in the heavens. Sitting up in bed, she moved her arms
experimentally. They were very sore and stiff. She swung her feet to the
floor and groaned with pain.
"Guess I can't take it any more," she muttered. "I must be getting soft,
or else it's old age sneaking up on me!"
Torturing herself with a limbering exercise, Penny dressed and went
downstairs. Mrs. Weems had gone to church while Mr. Parker had submerged
himself in fifty-eight pages of Sunday paper. Detouring around the living
room, Penny went to the kitchen to prepare herself a belated breakfast.
She was picking at the nuts of a fruit salad found in the ice box when
her father appeared in the doorway.
"Penny--" he began sternly.
"Where was I last night?" she interrupted. "I've said before, and now
repeat--in a well! A nice deep one with water in it."
"When you're ready to tell me the real story, I shall listen," Mr. Parker
said quietly. "Until that time, I must deprive you of your weekly
allowance."
"Oh, Dad!" Penny wailed. "You know I'm stony broke! I won't be able to
drive my car or even buy a hot dog!"
"That is your misfortune. Mrs. Weems says I have been entirely too
indulgent with you, and I am inclined to agree with her. I've seldom
checked your comings or goings, but in the future I shall expect you to
tell me your plans when you leave the house at night."
Having delivered his ultimatum, Mr. Parker quietly withdrew.
Penny had lost her appetite for breakfast. Feeling much abused she banged
out the kitchen door into the yard. Her first act was to inspect the
gasoline tanks of both Leaping Lena and the maroon car. As she had
feared, the combined fuel supply did not equal three gallons.
"There's just about fifty-five miles between me and misery," she
reflected grimly. "I wouldn't dare siphon gas out of Dad's car or ask for
credit at a filling station either!"
Wandering around to the front porch, she sat down on the steps. One of
her high school boy friends pedalled past on his bicycle, calling a
cheery greeting. Penny barely responded.
Presently a milk wagon clattered to a stop in front of the house. The
driver came up the walk with his rack of milk bottles. Penny eyed him
speculatively.
"We have a lot of old bottles in the basement," she greeted him. "Does
your company pay for them?"
"Sorry," he declined. "We use only our own stamped bottles. There's no
deposit charge. Customers are expected to return them without rebate."
The driver left a quart of milk on the back doorstep of the Parker home.
In walking to his wagon, he paused beside Penny, remarking:
"Maybe you could sell your old bottles to a second-hand dealer. I saw one
on the next street about five minutes ago."
"Where?" Penny demanded, jumping to her feet.
"He was on Fulton Avenue when I drove past."
Thanking the driver, Penny ran as fast as her stiff limbs would permit to
the next street corner. Far up the avenue she saw a battered old car of
the second-hand man. Hurrying on, she reached the automobile just as its
owner came from a house carrying an armful of corded newspapers.
"Excuse me," she called eagerly, "do you buy old bottles?"
The man turned toward her, doffing his derby hat.
"Good morning, Miss," he said. "I buy newspapers, old furniture, rubber
tires, copper, brass, or gold, but not bottles."
Penny scarcely heard the discouraging information for she was staring at
the man as if his appearance fascinated her. For a moment she could not
think where she had seen him before. And then suddenly she remembered.
"Why, I saw you at Mrs. Marborough's place!" she exclaimed. "You're the
one person who has been inside the house! I want you to tell me all about
it."
CHAPTER
16
_INSIDE THE MANSION_
Mr. Butterworth, the second-hand dealer, scarcely knew what to make of
Penny's abrupt request.
"Tell me how the house looks inside," she requested as he remained mute.
"Is it as handsome as folks say?"
"You are a friend of Mrs. Marborough?" the man inquired, cocking his head
sideways as he regarded the girl.
"Of course."
"Then why do you not ask Mrs. Marborough that question?"
"Because she never invites anyone into her house," Penny explained
patiently. "You're the only person to get in so far as I know. I'll
venture she sold you something. Am I right?"
"Maybe so," Mr. Butterworth grinned. "My lips, they are sealed."
"Sealed?"
"I promise Mrs. Marborough I tell nothing of what I see in the house."
"Then there is something mysterious going on there!" Penny exclaimed.
"Tell me, why did you go to the house?"
"Mrs. Marborough sent for me."
"But why?" Penny demanded, exasperated because she could learn nothing of
importance. "Did Mrs. Marborough sell you something?"
"Maybe so, maybe not," the second-hand man answered, climbing into his
overloaded car. "You ask her."
Penny watched him drive away, and then returned to her own doorstep. She
was listlessly throwing acorns at a squirrel when Louise Sidell came down
the street, dressed in her Sunday best.
"What's the matter, Penny?" she inquired, roving over to the porch. "How
do you feel this morning?"
"Lower than the center of the earth. I've lost my reputation with Dad, my
allowance, and my initiative. If I had a nickel I'd go drown myself in a
coke!"
"What you need is a nice adventure," Louise said mischievously. "How
about a trip out to Mrs. Marborough's tomorrow night?"
"I've had enough of wells!"
"Penny, you don't mean it!" Louise grinned. "After discovering those
loose bricks, you'll just forget about them?"
"Why not?" Penny demanded wildly. "Dad won't let me leave the house at
night any more without a six thousand page report on where I am going. If
I so much as mention Mrs. Marborough's well, he'll clap on a double
punishment."
"You can manage it somehow," Louise declared with confidence. "I'll meet
you tomorrow night about eight-thirty."
"Maybe," Penny said gloomily.
Throughout the day she tried to win favor with both Mrs. Weems and her
father by doing small things to please them. When the housekeeper came
home from church, dinner awaited her. Penny insisted upon doing the
dishes. She straightened the kitchen, she brought her father his bedroom
slippers, and refrained from turning on the radio while he was reading.
The schedule was a trying one for her, but she kept it up faithfully all
day Sunday and until after dinner on Monday. Then came the denouement
upon which she pinned her hopes.
"Dad," she said demurely, leaning on the chair arm and stroking his hair,
"with your kind permission I should like to absent myself from the house
for a few minutes."
"Where do you plan to go?" he asked, trying to act stern.
Penny was prepared for the question. From her pocket she whisked a
lengthy typewritten paper, handsomely decorated with a diagram.
"What's this?" Mr. Parker asked, his lips twitching slightly.
"Merely a report on my proposed movements for the next hour. At
eight-thirty I hope to be at Louise's house. Eight thirty-four should
find me on Adams Street, moving southward. At eight thirty-eight I pass
Gulbert Park--"
"Never mind," Mr. Parker interrupted. "I see by this lengthy document
that your ultimate destination is Mrs. Marborough's estate. Isn't it
rather late to pay a social call?"
"Eight-thirty?"
"What does this X on the map represent?" the publisher asked, his
interest shifting.
"Oh that?" smiled Penny. "Merely one of the fixtures in Mrs. Marborough's
yard. Louise and I think treasure may be hidden there."
Amused by what he took to be his daughter's whimsy, Mr. Parker returned
the diagram to her.
"Do I have your permission to leave the house?" she asked anxiously.
"Yes, you may go," he agreed. "But mind, no late hours. And no more tall
tales about falling into wells!"
Louise was waiting for Penny in the Sidell yard and the girls went as
quickly as they could to the Marborough estate. The house was completely
dark, leading them to believe that the widow might have absented herself
for the evening.
"We'll have to be especially careful," Louise warned as they approached
the old wishing well. "She might return at any moment and find us."
Penny had brought the silken ladder, extra rope, a flashlight and a suit
of warm coveralls which her father used when he worked on the car.
Donning the bulky garment, she prepared to descend a few feet into the
well.
"Do be careful," Louise said anxiously. "If you should fall you might
kill yourself."
"You think of the most cheerful things," Penny muttered, climbing nimbly
down the swaying ladder. "I'm not taking any chances though. I'll tie
myself to the ladder with this extra piece of rope."
After she had gained the position she desired, Louise handed down the
flashlight. Penny carefully inspected the brick wall.
"I believe it is an opening!" she reported jubilantly. "I really do.
Here, take this flash. I can't work and hold it."
While Louise directed the beam from above, Penny tugged at the bricks.
Unable to move them, she called for a tool which she had brought with
her. By means of it, she easily pried one of the bricks loose. Pushing
her arm through the opening, she encountered only empty space.
"It's a little tunnel I think!" she shouted to Louise. "Take this brick,
and I'll try to pry out others!"
Within ten minutes Penny had handed up enough of them to make a large
pile beside the flagstones.
"Do you realize you're practically destroying Mrs. Marborough's well!"
Louise said uneasily. "How will we ever explain this?"
"I can put the bricks back again," Penny assured her. "They were meant to
come out. Now, the flashlight again."
Balancing herself precariously on the ladder, she directed the light
through the opening she had created. A long narrow tunnel which she
judged to be about five feet below the ground, extended as far as she
could see.
"I'm going to try to get in there!" she called to Louise. "Toss me a life
preserver if I fail!"
Calculating the space, Penny swung her feet from the ladder to the ledge.
Retaining an arm hold on the ropes, she edged herself backwards into the
hole.
"It's much easier than it looks," she called encouragingly to her chum.
"Come on, if you want to explore."
Louise hesitated, and then daringly climbed down into the well. Penny
helped her from the ladder into the tunnel.
"Where do you suppose this leads?" Louise gasped.
"Maybe to the house," Penny speculated. "I know lots of these old places
had escapes made so that in time of war or Indian attacks, the
householders could get away. Never heard of a tunnel opening into a well
though!"
The bricked passageway was so low that for the first twelve feet the
girls were forced to crawl on hands and knees. Gradually, the tunnel
deepened until they were able to walk in a stooped position.
"We're coming to the end of it," Penny presently announced.
Directly in front of her was a heavy door which showed the effects of
age. It did not move easily, but together, the girls were able to swing
it open.
"Where in the world are we?" Louise murmured in perplexity.
Penny flashed her light directly ahead. A series of four steps led down
from the tunnel into an empty room which barely was six feet across. So
far as she could see it had no exit.
"It looks as if we're at the end of the trail," Louise remarked in
disappointment.
"This must be part of the Marborough house," Penny declared, descending
the steps into the tiny room.
"But there's no way out of it except through the tunnel!"
"There must be if we can find it," Penny insisted.
Wandering about the room she began to explore the walls, and Louise
followed her example. Their search was rewarded, for presently they
discovered a small brass knob embedded in the rough board paneling. Penny
pulled on it and a section of wall slid back.
"Now we're really in the Marborough house!" she whispered excitedly. "The
basement, I think."
Stepping through the opening, the girls made no sound as they tiptoed
around in the dark, damp room. Penny's flashlight revealed that the walls
had been boarded over, but there was no solid foundation beneath their
feet, only a hard dirt floor. A steep stairway led up from the basement.
"Do you suppose Mrs. Marborough is here?" Penny whispered, listening.
There was no sound from above.
"Shall we go upstairs, or back the way we came?" she asked her chum.
"Let's risk being caught," Louise decided after a moment's hesitation.
"I'd rather be sent to jail for house breaking than to climb into that
well again."
Huddling together, the girls crept up the stairway. The landing was
blocked by another door. Penny tested it, and finding it unlocked, pushed
it gently open. Again they listened.
"The coast is clear," Louise whispered. "I'm sure Mrs. Marborough isn't
here."
Penny stepped across the threshold, tense with anticipation. Ever since
Mrs. Marborough's arrival in Riverview she had longed to see the interior
of the grand old mansion. And now, through a strange quirk of adventure,
her ambition was to be gratified.
Slowly she allowed the flashlight beam to play over the walls of the
room. There were several pictures in massive gold frames, leading her to
think that she had entered a library or living room. Systematically, she
continued to move the light about in search of furniture. So far as she
could see there was none.
"The room is empty!" Louise whispered at her elbow.
A board squeaked beneath their weight as the girls tiptoed to a doorway
opening into a still larger room.
"This must be the living room," Penny decided, observing a beautiful,
circular stairway which rose to the second floor.
"But where is the furniture?" demanded Louise in bewilderment.
Penny's light cut squares across the room, but the only objects revealed
were a chair and a table drawn close to the fireplace.
"What can this mean?" Louise gasped. "The house always has been
furnished. Now everything is gone."
Penny did not answer. The sound of shuffling feet on the front porch
caused both girls to freeze against the wall. Before they could retreat
to the basement stairs, the living room door opened. Light from a street
lamp cut a path across the bare floor.
Mrs. Marborough stood framed in the doorway. The girls had made no sound,
yet the mistress of Rose Acres seemed to sense that she was not alone.
"Who is it?" she called sharply. "Speak up! Who is hiding here?"
CHAPTER
17
_THE MARBOROUGH PEARLS_
In frightened voices Penny and Louise acknowledged their presence in the
dark room. Greatly relieved that the intruders were girls, Mrs.
Marborough struck a match and lighted three half-burned candles which
were set in a huge glass candelabra.
"Oh, so it's you!" she exclaimed as the flickering light fell upon their
faces. "May I ask why you have broken into my house?"
"We're thoroughly ashamed of ourselves, Mrs. Marborough," Penny said
apologetically.
"Indeed we are," added Louise. "When we started to investigate the
wishing well we didn't intend to enter the house."
"Suppose you explain," suggested the mistress of Rose Acres.
"It's a long story," sighed Penny. "May we sit down somewhere?"
The request embarrassed Mrs. Marborough. She hesitated, and then
indicated that the girls were to follow her. To their surprise she led
them through another empty room to the kitchen, there lighting a candle.
Its soft illumination revealed an old oil stove, several chairs, a
porcelain table and a cot which obviously served both as a day couch and
bed.
Mrs. Marborough offered no explanation or apology. Taking wood from a
box, she piled it into the fireplace, and soon had a cheerful blaze on
the hearth.
Drawing their chairs to the fire, Penny and Louise explained how they had
entered the old mansion. Mrs. Marborough listened attentively to their
story but did not appear especially surprised.
"I've always known about that old tunnel," she said when they had
finished. "It was built by the first owner of this house, many, many
years ago, and I doubt if it ever was used. I tried to find the entrance
from the basement a few days ago, but was unable to locate it."
"We saw you with your lantern at the wishing well," Louise confessed.
"That was what aroused our curiosity."
"I was looking for the other tunnel entrance. I found it without much
trouble, but it was so deep down in the well that I dared not risk trying
to get into it. Although I considered hiring a man, I hesitated, because
I knew it would cause talk."
Penny and Louise were feeling much more at ease, sensing that the
mistress of Rose Acres no longer was irritated by their actions. Eagerly
they waited for her to reveal more.
"I suppose you think me a queer old lady," Mrs. Marborough resumed.
"Perhaps I am, but I have a very good reason for some of the things I do.
I came to Riverview to search for something which has been lost many
years."
"Something hidden during the Civil War?" inquired Louise breathlessly.
"No, my dear, an object secreted by my sister, Virginia. Since you girls
already have learned so much I will tell you all. Perhaps you have heard
of the Marborough pearls?"
Penny and Louise shook their heads.
"I forget that you are so very young," Mrs. Marborough said. "Your
mothers would remember. At any rate, the necklace was handed down in our
family for many generations, always to the daughter who was the first to
marry. Virginia, my younger sister, dreamed and hoped that the pearls
would go to her. Naturally, I shared a similar desire. As it came about,
I was the first of the family to marry."
"Then you received the necklace?" Louise commented.
"It should have gone to me, but my sister was determined I never should
win such a victory over her. In a fit of anger she hid the pearls. Father
tried to force her to tell what she had done with them, but she was very
headstrong. She ran away from home, married a scamp, and sailed with him
to South America. She died there less than two years after my own
marriage."
"What became of the pearls?" Penny asked eagerly.
"Our family believed that she took the necklace with her. For many years
we assumed that Virginia's worthless husband had obtained possession of
it. He denied any knowledge of the pearls, but we never accepted his
story as true. Then, a few weeks ago, a letter came from South America.
It had been written by Virginia's husband shortly before his death."
"He confessed to the theft of the necklace?" Louise asked, trying to
speed the story.
"No, indeed. He merely enclosed a letter written by Virginia years
before. It was addressed to me, and had never been sent, because her
husband deliberately withheld it. Just selfish and cantankerous, that man
was! The letter told where the pearls had been hidden. I imagine that
Virginia's husband had planned to gain possession of them someday, but
fate defeated him. So on his death bed he sent me the original letter
which I should have received forty years earlier."
"Where were the pearls hidden?" Penny questioned, her eyes sparkling with
anticipation. "You haven't found them yet?"
"No, and I doubt that I ever shall," Mrs. Marborough sighed. "Virginia's
letter was not very definite. She begged my forgiveness for having caused
so much trouble, and said that she had hidden the necklace near the old
wishing well."
"Didn't she tell you where?" Louise asked in disappointment.
"There were several words which had been blotted with ink. I suspect
Virginia's husband did it to prevent anyone but himself from learning the
hiding place. Then when he finally sent the letter to me, he may have
forgotten what he had done. That's only my guess, of course. As the
letter reads, my only clue is that the pearls were hidden near the
wishing well."
"That explains why you were removing the flagstones the other night,"
Louise remarked.
"Yes, I've searched everywhere I can think of except in the old tunnel.
When you girls went through it tonight, did you notice anything unusual?"
"No hiding place," Penny replied. "Of course we weren't looking for
anything of the sort. If we could explore the passageway by daylight--"
"Can't we help you find the pearls, Mrs. Marborough?" Louise interrupted.
"It would be such fun searching for them."
"I'll be very happy to have your help," the old lady said, smiling. "Upon
one condition. You must tell no one. Already I am the laughing stock of
Riverview and if this latest story should get around everyone would
talk."
Penny and Louise promptly assured her that they would tell no one about
the pearls.
"Another thing--" Mrs. Marborough hesitated and then went on. "I suppose
you understand now why I never invited you into the house. It wasn't that
I meant to be inhospitable."
"Because the place isn't fixed up?" Louise came to her aid. "Why, Penny
and I would have thought nothing of it. This is a cozy kitchen with a
cheerful fire. I think it's nice."
"I probably shan't be here long. My purpose in returning to Riverview was
to find the pearls. I've nearly made up my mind that they are lost
forever."
"Oh, don't say that!" Penny cried. "Tomorrow, with your permission,
Louise and I will explore the tunnel. We may have luck."
"I shall be very glad to have your help, my dear." Again Mrs. Marborough
groped for words and finished awkwardly: "Please, I beg of you, don't
tell anyone what you have seen tonight, particularly the barren state of
this house."
"We understand," Penny said gravely.
The fire had burned low. Mindful that they must be home early, the girls
bade Mrs. Marborough goodbye, promising to return the following day. Once
outside the mansion, they paused beside a tree so that Penny might remove
the heavy coveralls which she still wore over her frock.
"What a night!" she murmured happily.
"For once, Penny, one of your crazy adventures turned out beautifully,"
Louise praised. "We'll have a wonderful time searching for that necklace!
She's certainly queer though."
"Mrs. Marborough?"
"Yes, imagine being so sensitive about how the interior of her house
looks. Who would expect it to be fixed up nicely after standing empty so
many years?"
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Penny asked. She hopped grotesquely on
one foot as she extricated the other from the coveralls.
"Forgetting what?" Louise demanded, puzzled.
"Remember that first day we peeped into the house through the window?"
"Why, yes, what about it?"
"Your memory isn't very good, Louise. Don't you remember the sheet-draped
furniture we saw?"
"That's right! I had forgotten. What became of it?"
"If I had just one guess, I'd say--Mr. Butterworth."
"Who is he, Penny?"
"A second-hand dealer who buys old furniture, newspapers, rubber
tires--everything except bottles."
"Not that funny looking man we saw enter this house the other day!"
"The same. Louise, it's my guess that Mrs. Marborough sold all of her
valuable antiques--probably for a fraction of their true worth."
"How foolish of her. Why would she do that?"
"Don't you understand?" Penny asked patiently. "There can be but one
explanation. Mrs. Marborough isn't wealthy any more. She's living in dire
poverty and trying to keep people from learning the truth."
CHAPTER
18
_SIGNBOARD INDIANS_
The realization that in all likelihood Mrs. Marborough had sold her
valuable antiques to the second-hand dealer was disconcerting to Louise
as well as Penny. They did not believe that Mr. Butterworth would pay a
fractional part of the furniture's true value, and apparently the widow's
only reason for parting with her treasures was an urgent need for money.
"Of course, I may have guessed wrong about it," Penny admitted as she and
Louise started toward home. "Just to check up, I'll call at Mr.
Butterworth's shop tomorrow and see what I can learn."
"I wish we dared tell someone about the condition of the house," Louise
said thoughtfully. "Why, if Mrs. Marborough is in need, Mother would
help."
"So would Mrs. Weems," added Penny. "But we gave our promise not to
reveal anything we saw. For the time-being, our hands are tied."
The events of the night had made the girls eager to return again to Rose
Acres to search for the missing pearl necklace. They agreed that
immediately after school the next afternoon they would call upon Mr.
Butterworth and then keep their appointment with the widow.
"Remember, we mustn't tell anyone what we have learned," Penny warned as
she parted company with her chum. "Not even Rhoda."
Throughout the following day, both girls were so excited that they found
it all but impossible to study. When the closing bell finally brought
release, they bolted from the school building before any of their
classmates could detain them.
"I have the address of Mr. Butterworth's shop," Penny said, consulting a
paper. "It's not far from here."
The building proved to be a typical second-hand store with old tables and
chairs piled in the windows along with cut glass and bric-a-brac.
Entering, the girls wandered about until a woman asked them if they were
searching for anything in particular.
"We're interested in furniture," Penny explained. "Old pieces--antiques
if we can find them."
"Come into the back room," the woman invited. "Mr. Butterworth bought a
number of pieces just a few days ago. From one of Riverview's best homes
too."
"Where was that?" inquired Louise.
"I didn't hear him mention the name. It was from a house that has been
closed many years. The owner returned only a short time ago and is
closing out everything."
The girls did not doubt that the furniture under discussion had been
obtained from Rose Acres. They were certain of it as they viewed rosewood
and mahogany chairs, imported mirrors, porcelain ornaments, massive
four-poster beds, sofas with damaged coverings, and handsome chests and
bureaus. Penny ventured to price a few of the items. The amount asked was
so low that she knew Mr. Butterworth had paid an extremely small sum to
the widow. Making an excuse for not purchasing, she and Louise escaped to
the street.
"There's no question about it," Penny declared as they set off for Rose
Acres. "Mrs. Marborough sold her beautiful things to Mr. Butterworth."
"He can't appreciate their value or he never would offer them at such low
prices," Louise added. "Anyone who buys those things will obtain
wonderful bargains."
Penny nodded soberly. Lost in thought, she had little to say until the
girls drew near Rose Acres.
"Don't let on to Mrs. Marborough that we've learned about the furniture,"
she warned. "It's really none of our affair if she sells her belongings."
The widow had been expecting the girls and had everything in readiness to
explore the tunnel. While they searched it from end to end, she waited
hopefully at the wishing well.
"Have you found anything?" she called several times.
"Not yet," Penny would reply patiently.
She and Louise laboriously examined every inch of the bricked passageway
but with fading hope. The walls were firm, giving no indication that
anything ever had been hidden behind or within them. To have excavated
the hard-packed dirt flooring was a task not to be considered at the
moment.
"There's nothing here," Penny whispered to her chum. "I doubt that the
pearls ever were hidden in this tunnel."
"Mrs. Marborough will be terribly disappointed," Louise replied in an
undertone. "What shall we tell her?"
"We can pretend to keep on searching. Maybe if we prowl about this place
for a few days, we'll have luck."
"The pearls were hidden near the wishing well. We have that much to go
on."
"They may have disappeared years ago," Penny contributed pessimistically.
"To tell you the truth, I don't feel very hopeful about ever finding
them."
Leaving the tunnel by means of the easier exit, the girls emerged into
the basement. They were preparing to climb the stairs to the first floor
when Mrs. Marborough's voice reached their ears almost as plainly as if
she were in the cellar.
"Louise! Penny! Are you all right?"
Startled by the clearness of the call, the girls paused on the stairway.
"Why, her voice came through as plainly as if she were in this room!"
Louise exclaimed. "You don't suppose Mrs. Marborough has ventured into
the passageway?"
Thoroughly alarmed, the girls raced up the stairway and out of the house
into the yard. To their relief they saw Mrs. Marborough standing by the
wishing well, peering anxiously down.
"Oh, here you are!" she murmured as they ran up. "I was beginning to get
worried. The last time I called you did not answer."
"We were down in the basement," Penny explained. "Mrs. Marborough, your
voice came through to us as plainly as if you were in the passage."
The disclosure did not seem to surprise the widow, for she smiled and
said:
"I've always known that sound carried from the well to the house. In
fact, in past years I found it amusing to listen to conversations carried
on by persons who never dreamed that their words were overheard."
"Then that explains why so many wishes which were made here at the well
came true!" Penny cried. "You were the Good Fairy behind it all."
"Oh, now and then, if it pleased my fancy, I arranged to have a wish
granted," Mrs. Marborough acknowledged, smiling grimly. "That was in the
days when I had money--" she broke off and ended--"more than I have now,
I mean."
"Mrs. Marborough, you must have heard those wishes we made the day of
your return to Riverview," Penny said after a moment. "Were you
responsible for sending a basket of food to Rhoda's people?"
"I am afraid I was."
"And did you grant Rhoda's second wish?" Louise asked quickly. "Did you
have anything to do with getting her brother, Ted, a job?"
"Judge Harlan is an old friend of mine," Mrs. Marborough explained. "I
merely wrote him a note suggesting that he would do me a favor by helping
the boy if he found him worthy."
Although the widow's admission cleared up much of the mystery which had
surrounded the old wishing well, Louise and Penny were dumbfounded,
nevertheless. Never once had anyone in Riverview connected Mrs.
Marborough with a particularly charitable deed.
As if guessing their thoughts, the woman said sharply:
"Now mind, I'll not have you telling this around the town! I'm through
with all such silly business, and I don't propose to have busybodies
discuss whether or not I am addle-brained!"
"Why, Mrs. Marborough!" protested Louise. "It was a kind, generous thing
to do."
"Generous, fiddlesticks! I did it because it pleased me and for no other
reason. Let's not talk about it any more."
Mrs. Marborough questioned the girls concerning their exploration of the
tunnel. Her disappointment over the failure to find the pearls was keen
but she tried not to show it.
"I knew it was a fool's errand coming to Riverview to look for that
stupid necklace!" she declared. "Like as not, it never was hidden at Rose
Acres, my sister's letter to the contrary. I intend to forget about the
whole affair."
"Oh, Mrs. Marborough, don't give up so soon," Penny pleaded. "Louise and
I have only started to search. We may find it yet."
"You've been very nice," the widow said, smiling almost in a friendly
way. "I'll remember it always when I am far away."
"Then you intend to leave Riverview?" Louise asked in disappointment.
"I must sell Rose Acres. I have no other course open."
"Not to Jay Franklin, I hope!" Penny exclaimed.
"I have no intention of dealing with him if anyone else will make an
offer. So far I have found no other person who is interested in the
property."
Drawing a deep sigh, Mrs. Marborough arose. Without much enthusiasm she
invited the girls to come with her into the house, but they tactfully
declined.
"We'll come again tomorrow, if you don't mind," Penny said as she and
Louise turned to leave.
"Do," replied Mrs. Marborough. "We might make a final search for the
pearls."
Enroute to Riverview, the girls talked over the situation and agreed that
the prospect of finding the necklace was a slim one. They had grown to
like the eccentric widow and were sorry that she had decided to move away
from the city of her birth.
"I am sure if she had money she would remain here," Louise declared. "And
it will nearly kill her if she is forced to deal with Jay Franklin. How
she does dislike him!"
Parting with her chum in the business section of Riverview, Penny went
directly to the _Star_ office. Her father was ready to start home.
"Anything new about Jay Franklin and those record stones he hopes to sell
to the museum?" Penny inquired absently as the automobile sped along the
congested streets.
"Nothing you haven't heard," Mr. Parker replied. "Franklin expects to
make the sale and probably will. The museum people have put themselves on
record as saying that the stones bear authentic writing."
"Then it appears that your original hunch was incorrect," Penny observed.
"Too bad you played down the story in the _Star_."
"I may have made a mistake. All the same, I am pinning my hopes on the
expert from Brimwell College."
"What expert, Dad?"
"I guess I neglected to tell you. The _Star_ hired Professor Anjus from
Brimwell to inspect the stones. His opinion doesn't coincide with that of
the museum experts. He has pronounced them fakes."
"If the experts can't agree, then how can one prove anything?"
"It is something of a tangle," Mr. Parker smiled. "I turned that tool you
obtained from Crocker over to Professor Anjus. He expects to make
exhaustive tests and to report to me within a few days."
The car had reached the outskirts of Riverview. As it passed along
streets which were sparsely dotted with houses, Penny called attention to
several large billboards which disfigured the landscape.
"Look, Dad!" she directed, pointing to a particularly colorful poster.
"An Indian show is coming to town next week!"
Mr. Parker turned his head to gaze at the billboard. To Penny's
amazement, he suddenly slammed on the brake, bringing the car to a
lurching halt at the side of the road.
"That's it!" he cried, his eyes on the huge sign. "The motive! I couldn't
figure it out, but now I have the clue I need! Penny, we'll put a crimp
in Jay Franklin's little game, or my name isn't Anthony Parker!"
CHAPTER
19
_PUBLICITY PLUS_
Completely mystified by her father's remarks, Penny waited for him to
explain.
"Don't you get it?" he asked, waving his hand toward the big signboard.
"The finding of those stones bearing Elizabethan and Indian writing was
perfectly timed! It's all a publicity stunt for the coming show!"
"How could it be?" Penny questioned, scarcely able to accept her father's
theory. "I found one of the rocks myself. I know I wasn't hired by any
Indian show!"
"It was pure luck that you stumbled into the stone, Penny. If you hadn't,
someone hired by the Indian show would have brought it to light."
"But where does Jay Franklin figure in, Dad? You don't think he's
connected with the publicity scheme as you call it!"
"Franklin wouldn't have sufficient imagination to pull off a stunt like
that," Mr. Parker declared. "No, he may actually believe in the
authenticity of the stones. At any rate, he saw an opportunity to make a
little money for himself and seized it."
"Why should an Indian show go to the trouble of having stones carved and
planted in various fields? It doesn't make sense."
"The resulting publicity should draw state-wide attention to the show,
Penny. It's just the sort of idea which would appeal to a clever
publicity agent. Every newspaper in Riverview except the _Star_ has
fallen for it, giving columns of space to the story."
"I still don't see how the show will gain. Its name never has been
mentioned in connection with the finding of the stones."
"Of course not, Penny. That would be too crude. But at the proper time,
the publicity agent will twist all of the stories to his own purpose."
"Dad," said Penny sadly, "in the past you have accused me of having wild
ideas. I think the score is even now."
"I'll have that show traced," Mr. Parker declared, paying no heed to his
daughter. "Since it is coming to Riverview next week it can't be far away
now. I may find it worth while to call on the publicity agent and have a
little chat with him."
Penny was gazing at the billboard again, reading the dates.
"Dad, the show will play here during Pilgrimage Week," she declared.
"What a shame! It's certain to take away customers from a much more
worthwhile event."
"There may not be an Indian show," responded Mr. Parker grimly. "Not when
I get through with the outfit!"
Immediately upon arriving at home, the publisher called the newspaper
office, delegating City Editor DeWitt to obtain complete information
about the Indian Show and to report to him. All evening he talked of his
theory until both Penny and Mrs. Weems confessed that they were a bit
weary of redskins.
"I shall write an editorial for tomorrow's _Star_," Mr. Parker announced.
"Even if I haven't absolute facts, I'll drop a few broad hints about
those fake stones!"
The editorial, cleverly worded but with very definite implications, was
composed that night, and telephoned to the newspaper office. Penny had
the pleasure of reading it at breakfast the next morning.
"You certainly did yourself proud, Dad," she praised. "However, I imagine
the museum people aren't going to be too pleased. Nor certain other folks
in this town."
"Let me take a look at it," Mr. Parker requested, reaching for the paper.
As Penny offered it to him, the doorbell rang. Mrs. Weems was busy in the
kitchen so the girl arose and went to answer it. Jay Franklin stood on
the porch.
"Good morning," he said in a hard voice. "Is your father here?"
"Yes, he is eating breakfast," Penny responded. "Won't you come in,
please?"
Mr. Franklin walked ahead of her into the living room.
"Good morning, Jay," called the editor, who was able to see the caller
from his chair at the breakfast table. "Will you have a cup of coffee
with us?"
Ignoring the invitation, Mr. Franklin entered the dinette, blocking the
doorway. From his pocket he took a copy of the morning _Star_.
"Parker," he said curtly, "I've just read your editorial and I demand an
explanation! Do you realize what you've done?"
"Written a pretty fair stickful--or so my daughter tells me," Mr. Parker
smiled undisturbed.
"You've deliberately tried to smear me," the real estate man accused.
"I don't recall that your name was mentioned in the editorial."
"No, but you know I expect to sell those two stones to the museum. This
editorial of yours may queer the sale!"
"Then it will have fulfilled its purpose. The stones are fakes. If you
aren't aware of it, I suggest that you acquaint yourself with the true
facts."
"Those stones bear genuine Elizabethan writing. There's no connection
with any cheap Indian show, and I defy you to prove it!"
"Consider your challenge accepted," replied Mr. Parker evenly. "I expect
to publish the true facts very shortly in the _Star_."
"If you prevent me from making a sale to the museum, I'll sue you!" Jay
Franklin threatened. "That's all I have to say. Good morning!"
In his anger he turned so quickly that he ran into Penny who stood
directly behind him. Without bothering to apologize, he brushed past her,
out the front door.
"What a dreadful man!" remarked Mrs. Weems who had heard the conversation
from the kitchen.
"I rather expected him to call, although not so early in the morning,"
the publisher remarked, reaching for a slice of toast. "His attitude
doesn't bother me in the least."
"He may actually sue you if you don't make good on producing facts,"
Penny commented. "How are you going to do it?"
"DeWitt informs me that the Indian Show is playing at Bryan this week.
I'll drive over there today and see what I can learn."
Bryan was a small city located sixty-nine miles from Riverview. Although
Penny ordinarily would have spent the day in school, she immediately
decided that her father would need her assistance. Accordingly, she
begged so hard to accompany him that he finally gave his consent.
Early afternoon saw Mr. Parker and his daughter at the outskirts of Bryan
where two large blue and red show tents had been set up. A band played,
and townspeople were pouring past the ticket-taker, an Indian who wore
the headdress of a chieftain.
"It looks rather interesting," Penny remarked wistfully.
Mr. Parker stripped a bill from his wallet and gave it to her.
"Go buy yourself a ticket," he said, smiling. "I'll meet you here by the
entrance in an hour."
"Don't you want to see the show, Dad?"
"I've outgrown such foolishness," he rejoined. "I'll find the publicity
agent and have my little talk with him."
The enticing sound of tom-toms and Indian war whoops caused Penny to
forget her desire to meet the show's publicity man. Saying goodbye to her
father, she bought a ticket and hastened into the big top. For an hour
she sat through a very mediocre performance, consisting in the main part
of cowboy and Indian horseback riding. The concluding event, a tableau,
depicted an attack by redskins upon an early English colony settlement.
It was all very boring, and Penny left in the middle of the performance.
Mr. Parker was not waiting at the entrance way. Loitering about for a
time, she inquired of a workman and learned that her father was in one of
the small tents close by. The flap had been rolled back, permitting her
to see a sharp-faced man of thirty who sat at a desk piled with papers.
"Is that the show's publicity agent?" she asked the workman.
"Yep, Bill McJavins," he answered. "He's sure put new life into this
outfit. We've been packin' them in ever since he took over."
Within a few minutes Mr. Parker joined Penny and from the expression of
his face, she immediately guessed that his interview had not been very
successful.
"I take it that Bill McJavins didn't break down and confess all?" she
inquired lightly.
"He denied any connection with those stones found in Riverview," Mr.
Parker replied. "But in the next breath he admitted he knew all about
them and intends to capitalize on the story."
"Just how will it help the show?"
"From what McJavins told me, I gather the program includes an historical
pageant."
"That would be a flattering name for it."
"In the pageant, Indians attack a white settlement. A beautiful maiden
escapes, and chisels on a stone tablet an account of the massacre--then
she, too, succumbs to the tomahawk."
"You seem to know more about the show than I," Penny laughed. "Anyway,
I'm glad to learn how it came out!"
"It's my guess that McJavins hopes to profit by a tie-up between the
stone writing of the pageant and the finding of similar rocks near
Riverview. It's a cheap trick, and the hoax would have been exposed a
long time ago if museum authorities were awake!"
Neither discouraged nor too much elated by the results of the trip, Mr.
Parker and Penny returned to Riverview. It was exactly noon when they
reached the newspaper office.
"I trust you plan to attend school this afternoon," the editor reminded
his daughter. "By lunching downtown you'll have plenty of time to get
there."
Loitering about the newsroom as long as she dared, Penny crossed the
street to have a sandwich at a quick-lunch cafe. As she reached the
restaurant she observed a familiar figure coming toward her.
"Rhoda Wiegand!" she exclaimed. "Aren't you going in the wrong
direction?"
"I'm cutting classes for the afternoon," the trailer camp girl replied,
pausing. "Mr. Coaten expects me to meet him at the Fischer Building. Can
you tell me where it is?"
"Three blocks straight down the street," Penny directed. She hesitated
and then said: "Rhoda, it's none of my affair, but I do hope you're not
agreeing to Mr. Coaten's proposal."
"The adoption? Yes, I am, Penny. I've tried to hold out against them all,
but I can't do it. Ted signed the papers two days ago. Since then I've
had no peace. Ted keeps after me, the Breens want me to do it, and Mr.
Coaten says I am selfish."
"We both know Mr. Coaten intends to profit in some way at your expense."
"I do feel that way about it. If only I dared stand firm--"
"You must," Penny said earnestly. Deliberately taking Rhoda's arm she
turned her about. "You're to break that appointment and have luncheon
with me. I'll assume all the responsibility."
CHAPTER
20
_RHODA'S PROBLEM_
Rhoda allowed herself to be dissuaded, but not without misgiving. As she
lunched with Penny at the Dolman Cafe, she painted a gloomy picture of
what lay before her.
"You don't understand how it is," she said, slowly stirring a cup of hot
chocolate. "I really haven't a good reason for refusing to consent to the
adoption. If I had one scrap of evidence against Mr. Coaten it would be
different."
"Can't you write to Texas and inquire about him and his friend?"
"I did," Rhoda admitted. "The answer came back that Mr. Coaten was
unknown at the address he gave the Breens."
"I should think that would be sufficient reason for distrusting him."
"Oh, Mr. Coaten explained it by saying that his family just moved to a
new house, and that he inadvertently had given me the wrong address."
"Did you ask for the second one, Rhoda?"
"Yes, he gave it to me. So far I've not had time for a reply."
"My advice is to stall for time," Penny said. "If we have even a few days
more we may dig up some information. However, I'll confess I haven't an
idea at the moment."
"Mr. Coaten will be furious because I didn't keep the appointment," Rhoda
sighed. "He's certain to come to the trailer camp tonight and demand an
explanation."
"Just tell him you changed your mind and refuse to say anything more. I
wish I could talk to him."
"So do I," declared Rhoda with emphasis. "Why not take dinner with us
tonight--if you can stand our brand of hospitality."
"Well, I don't know," Penny hesitated. "Louise and I plan to go to Mrs.
Marborough's place directly after school--"
"Oh, I wish I could go with you!" Rhoda declared impulsively. "I never
have had an opportunity to finish my sketch. Mrs. Marborough is such an
interesting character, too."
"You don't know the half of it," laughed Penny. "You're welcome to come
along. I think Mrs. Marborough will be willing to share our secret with
you."
"Secret?"
"No questions now, please," Penny requested, capturing both luncheon
checks. "We must hurry or we'll be late for school."
Having assured Mrs. Marborough that she would disclose nothing about the
lost pearl necklace, she could not honorably share the adventure with her
friend. However, it was her hope and belief that the widow would be
willing to allow Rhoda to aid in the exciting search of the premises.
Penny's surmise proved entirely correct. Later that afternoon when the
three girls called at Rose Acres, Mrs. Marborough scarcely noticed that
Rhoda was an uninvited member of the party. At once she began talking of
the missing pearls, which to the satisfaction of Louise and Penny,
necessitated a complete explanation.
"Imagine finding a tunnel leading from the old wishing well to the
house!" Rhoda cried in delight. "Take me through it! Show me everything!"
"Perhaps you can find the pearls," Penny laughed. "So far Louise and I
have failed."
"They're supposed to be hidden somewhere near the old wishing well,"
Louise contributed. "That's the only real clue we have."
"I suppose you looked under the flagstones?"
"I did that many days ago," answered Mrs. Marborough. "In fact, I don't
think there's a single place I haven't searched."
"The roof of the well?" Rhoda suggested.
"We never once thought of that place!" Louise exclaimed. "But how could
the necklace be secreted there?" She frowned as she stared at the
steep-pitched, shingled covering which formed a protection over the well.
"It's worth looking at anyhow!" Penny declared. "I'll get a ladder if I
can find one."
"In the woodshed," directed Mrs. Marborough.
Penny soon returned carrying a dust-laden step-ladder which had not seen
service in many years. Bracing it against the well, she mounted and began
to inspect the roof.
"Find anything?" inquired Rhoda impatiently.
"Two birds' nests. There seems to be a hole under the edge of the
roofing--"
Penny broke off as she ran her hand into the narrow opening.
"Yes, there is something here!" she exclaimed a moment later. "It feels
like a tiny box!"
Mrs. Marborough and the two girls waited tensely, hardly daring to hope.
Penny withdrew her hand from the hole, triumphantly holding up a small
leather case.
"This isn't it?" she asked.
"Oh, yes, yes!" Mrs. Marborough cried. "It is the old jewel case. The
pearls must be inside!"
In her haste to climb down from the ladder, Penny missed one of the
steps. Rhoda seized her arm saving her from a hard fall. Recovering her
breath, Penny politely offered the jewel case to Mrs. Marborough.
With the three girls clustered about her, the mistress of Rose Acres
ceremoniously opened the lid. In a nest of yellowed silk lay a string of
matched pearls, so beautiful and lustrous that no one could find words to
admire it.
"The famous Marborough pearls," the widow murmured at last. "This
necklace brought only unhappiness to our family. Now, however, they shall
serve a useful purpose!"
The girls gazed at Mrs. Marborough expectantly, waiting for her to
continue:
"I shall sell the pearls," she said quietly. "They represent a small
fortune, and by disposing of them I'll be well-provided for in my old
age. It won't be necessary for me to pinch and skrimp. I'll be able to
hold my head up in society--live like a human being again instead of a
recluse."
Realizing that she was revealing a great deal, Mrs. Marborough snapped
shut the jewel case and smiled at the girls.
"I never should have found the pearls by myself. To tell you that I am
grateful scarcely expresses my feelings. You've saved me from poverty."
"Rhoda did it," Penny declared, giving full credit to the trailer-camp
girl. "Louise and I never would have thought of searching the roof of the
well."
"Do come inside," Mrs. Marborough invited gaily. "We'll have tea in my
kitchen. It's not much to offer, but I did bake a little sponge cake this
morning."
No longer ashamed of the barren condition of the old mansion, the widow
led the girls through the great empty rooms. By daylight, notwithstanding
the stained condition of the walls, the house seemed more elegant than
ever. There was a large fan-shaped window of stained glass which Penny
had not noticed before, and dozens of candle holders attached to the
walls.
"How gorgeous this place would look if all the candles could be lighted
at one time," she remarked admiringly.
"And if the house had a little furniture in it," added Mrs. Marborough.
"You know, a few days ago I did a very foolish thing."
Louise glanced quickly at Penny but said nothing.
"I was a bit hard pressed for money," the widow resumed. "On an impulse I
sold all my furniture to Mr. Butterworth. Do you suppose he will sell it
back to me?"
"He should," declared Penny.
"I like Riverview for I was born here," Mrs. Marborough went on, talking
as if to herself. "By selling the pearls I can refurnish the house, have
the grounds restored to their original beauty, and live as I formerly
did!"
"Oh, I do hope you decide to stay here," Penny said eagerly.
Mrs. Marborough started a fire in the kitchen stove and put a kettle of
water on to boil. Soon the tea was ready, and was served with generous
slices of yellow sponge cake.
"I suppose everyone in Riverview considers me a crotchety old woman,"
Mrs. Marborough remarked presently. "I haven't been very friendly because
I didn't want folks to know I had sold my furniture. Some days ago a
group of women came to see me about opening the house for some sort of
Festival--"
"Pilgrimage Week," Penny supplied.
"I turned them down, not because I wasn't eager to help, but because I
couldn't let folks know all my furniture was gone. I wonder if they would
still care to include Rose Acres in the tour of houses?"
"Oh, Mrs. Marborough, it would practically save the Festival!" Penny
cried. "A cheap Indian show is coming to town the same week. I know for a
fact that the Festival tickets aren't selling very well."
"Everyone wants to see Rose Acres," Louise added enthusiastically.
"If I can re-purchase my furniture, I'll be glad to open the house to the
public," Mrs. Marborough said, her eyes twinkling as she gazed directly
at Penny. "That was the wish you made at the well, I believe?"
"Oh, it was! And you'll make it come true!"
"It's little enough to do in return for the favor you have bestowed upon
me."
"Nothing will please me more than to see this old house in all its
glory!" Penny declared enthusiastically. "May we light all the candles at
one time?"
"If you like."
"And wouldn't it be fun to hold a grand ball here with everyone dressed
in colonial costume!" Penny went on. "Can't you just see the place with
beaux and their ladies dancing a quadrille?"
"I'll talk to the members of the Festival Committee tomorrow," Mrs.
Marborough promised. "My first call, however, will be upon Mr.
Butterworth."
Long shadows were falling, and the girls soon arose to depart. During the
walk into Riverview, Rhoda became rather sober and Penny shrewdly guessed
that she had forgotten about the Marborough pearls and was thinking of
the dreaded interview with Mr. Coaten.
"You're really afraid to meet that man aren't you?" she asked curiously.
"Not exactly afraid," Rhoda responded. "He'll be waiting though, I'm
sure. I just don't know what to tell him."
"Will it be easier for you if I go with you to the camp?"
"Oh, I wish you would, Penny!" Rhoda said gratefully.
Louise soon parted with her friends, and the two girls went on to the
trailer camp. Mrs. Breen immediately informed them that Mr. Coaten had
called earlier in the afternoon and expected to return again.
"I hope you didn't make trouble about signing the papers," she said
severely. "He acted quite upset."
"I broke our appointment," Rhoda responded briefly. "So far I've not made
up my mind what to do."
There followed a lengthy argument in which Mrs. Breen assured the girl
that she was making a serious mistake by antagonizing such a kind,
generous man as Mr. Coaten. Penny took no part in the conversation,
although she readily could see how difficult had become Rhoda's position.
"You'll have to stay to dinner now," Rhoda whispered to her. "Mr. Coaten
is certain to come, and I can't stand against them all."
Penny had no desire to remain for a meal, but feeling that she should
support her friend, accepted the invitation. Ted soon came home from
working at Judge Harlan's office, and he too expressed displeasure
because his sister had broken the appointment with Mr. Coaten.
During dinner the subject was studiously avoided. Somewhat to Penny's
disapproval, Rhoda began to tell the Breens about everything that had
occurred at Rose Acres. At mention of the pearl necklace, Ted's fork
clattered against his plate and he forgot to eat.
"You actually found a string of pearls?" he asked incredulously. "Real
ones?"
"They must be worth many thousand dollars," Rhoda assured him. "Mrs.
Marborough intends to sell them and use the money to remodel her place."
Ted was about to ask another question, then seemed to reconsider.
"More stew?" Mrs. Breen asked as an awkward silence fell.
"No thanks, Mom," he answered. "If you'll excuse me, I'll skip out. I
have a date uptown with a fellow."
Mrs. Breen made no reply and the boy left the trailer. Penny thought that
she too should be leaving, but before she could speak, there came a light
tap on the door. Mr. Breen thrust his head out the open window.
"It's Mr. Coaten," he announced in a hoarse whisper. "What are you going
to tell him Rhoda?"
"I don't know," she answered, gazing helplessly at Penny.
CHAPTER
21
_MRS. MARBOROUGH'S LOSS_
Mrs. Breen hastily removed her apron and opened the door to admit the
caller.
"Good evening," said Mr. Coaten. His gaze roved from one person to
another in the crowded little room, coming to rest upon Rhoda.
"I'm sorry I couldn't keep our appointment this afternoon," she said
stiffly. "The truth is, I've changed my mind about signing that paper."
"I've tried to talk sense into her," Mrs. Breen broke in. "I don't know
what's come over the girl lately."
Mr. Coaten seated himself on the day bed, smiling at Rhoda in a friendly
way.
"I understand how you feel," he said. "You are afraid you don't know me
well enough to agree to the adoption."
"I never heard of you until you came to Riverview."
"Rhoda, that's no way to talk!" Mrs. Breen reprimanded. "What would we
have done without Mr. Coaten? He's given us money, bought groceries, and
made everything much easier."
"I appreciate everything. It's just that--well, I don't care to be
adopted. I like things as they are."
Mrs. Breen's kindly face tightened into hard lines.
"Rhoda," she said firmly, "this is an opportunity for you, and you ought
to be smart enough to realize it. Mr. Coaten will give you good clothes
and schooling. Pop and I can't do it."
"You've given me too much now," Rhoda murmured, her gaze on the linoleum
rug.
"I've been patient with you, but now I'm going to have my say. We can't
keep you any more."
"You're telling me to go?" Rhoda gasped, scarcely believing that she had
heard correctly.
"I'm asking you to sign whatever it is that Mr. Coaten wants you to."
Rhoda gazed at Penny, her lips trembling. There seemed but one course
open to her, for she had no money and no relatives. Fully aware of her
predicament, Mr. Coaten smiled triumphantly. From his pocket he whipped
out a fountain pen and a folded, neatly-typed paper.
"Rhoda, don't sign unless you really wish to," Penny said quietly.
"But I'll have no home--"
"You may stay with me. I'll find a place for you."
Directing her gaze upon Mr. Coaten, Penny resumed:
"May I ask why you are so eager to obtain a guardianship over Ted and
Rhoda? What do you expect to gain by it?"
"My dear young lady--" Mr. Coaten's voice was soft but his eyes glinted
angrily. "I expect to gain nothing."
"I gathered a different impression when I heard you and your friend
talking a night or so ago at the Marborough place."
At first Mr. Coaten did not appear to understand, then as Penny's meaning
dawned upon him, he arose from the couch.
"I have no wish to discuss this matter with you--a stranger," he said
coldly. "For some reason you are prejudiced against me, and have
deliberately influenced Rhoda to go against Mrs. Breen's desires."
"It's a question for our own family to settle," Mrs. Breen added.
"I'll go at once," said Penny. She gazed questioningly at Rhoda.
"Do you really think you could take me in at your place?" the girl asked.
"Of course. My offer holds."
"Then I'll come with you!" Darting to a wardrobe closet, Rhoda began to
toss garments into a suitcase.
"Rhoda, you can't go like this!" Mrs. Breen cried in protest. "Why won't
you listen to reason?"
"Let her go!" Mr. Coaten said harshly. "She'll come back in a day or two
glad to accept my offer."
Rhoda paid no heed to the conversation which flowed about her. Swiftly
she packed her suitcase and told Penny that she was ready to leave.
"Mrs. Breen," she said, squeezing the woman's hand in parting, "you and
Pop have been wonderful to Ted and me. I'll never forget it--never.
Someday I'll repay you, too."
"This is the way you do it," Mrs. Breen retorted bitterly. "By defying my
wishes."
There was nothing more to be said. Penny and Rhoda quickly left the
trailer, carrying the suitcase between them.
"I shouldn't have done it," the girl murmured contritely. "I don't know
how I'll ever manage to make a living. Ted likely will side against me,
too."
"Don't think of anything tonight," Penny advised, although she too was
worried. "We'll find something for you. Dad may have an opening on the
_Star_."
Mrs. Weems long ago had ceased to be surprised by anything that Penny
did, and so, when the two girls arrived at the Parker home, she did not
ask many questions. Rhoda was comfortably established in the guest room
and made to feel that she was welcome. However, ultimately learning what
had occurred, the housekeeper was not at all certain that Penny had done
right by helping the girl to leave home. Nor was Mr. Parker encouraging
about the prospects of finding employment.
"Can she type or take shorthand?" he asked bluntly.
"I don't think so," Penny admitted.
"The _Star_ can't be made a catch-all for your unemployed friends," Mr.
Parker resumed severely. "My advice is to send her back to the Breens."
"I can't do that, Dad. You don't understand."
"Well, let it ride for a few days," her father replied, frowning. "I'll
see what I can do."
Penny tried to keep Rhoda from realizing that her presence in the
household had created a problem. In the morning the girls went to school
together, returned for lunch, and then attended the afternoon session.
Rhoda became increasingly gloomy.
"Penny, this can't go on indefinitely," she protested. "I'll have to get
a job somehow."
"Let me worry about that."
"Ted hasn't come to see me either," Rhoda went on nervously. "I--I'm
beginning to think I should go back and sign that paper."
"Don't even consider it," Penny said firmly. "You need diversion to keep
your mind off the problem. Let's hike out to the Marborough place!"
Carrying their books, the girls set off for Rose Acres. Several windows
on the lower floor of the house had been opened to admit fresh air and
the blinds no longer were drawn. For the first time since Mrs.
Marborough's return, the old mansion actually had a "lived in"
appearance. However, although Penny knocked many times, the widow did not
come to the door.
"She can't be here," Rhoda remarked at last.
"The windows are open," Penny said thoughtfully. "I doubt that Mrs.
Marborough would go very far away without closing them."
The girls wandered to the wishing well, and then made a complete tour of
the grounds. Mrs. Marborough was nowhere in the yard.
"Shall we go?" Rhoda asked.
"I'll knock on the door just once more," Penny said. "I can't help
feeling that she is here."
Circling the house to the side entrance, the girls again rapped and
waited.
"Listen!" commanded Penny suddenly.
"I don't hear anything," declared Rhoda, startled by the manner in which
her companion had given the command.
"I thought someone called or groaned--the sound came from inside the
house."
"You must have imagined it."
"Maybe I did," Penny acknowledged, "but I don't think so."
Testing the door, she found it unlocked. As it swung back a tiny crack,
she called loudly: "Oh, Mrs. Marborough, are you at home?"
Distinctly, both girls heard an answering cry, but the words were
unintelligible. The sound had come from the direction of the kitchen.
"Mrs. Marborough must be ill!" Penny gasped, for the voice had been very
weak.
Hesitating no longer, she entered the house, and with Rhoda trailing
close behind, ran to the kitchen. Mrs. Marborough, still garbed in night
clothing, lay on the daybed, her face ashen. The woman breathed with the
greatest of difficulty, and both girls knew at once that she was
seriously ill.
"My heart--" Mrs. Marborough whispered. "An attack--last night."
"Rhoda, run as fast as you can and get Doctor Hamilton," Penny said
tersely. "I'll stay here."
As soon as her friend had gone, she busied herself trying to make Mrs.
Marborough comfortable. She rearranged the disordered blankets, and
fanned air toward the woman, making it easier for her to breathe.
"My pearls," Mrs. Marborough whispered after a moment. "They're gone."
Penny thought little of the remark, deciding that the widow was not
entirely rational.
"Oh, you have the necklace," she said soothingly. "Don't you remember? We
found it yesterday."
"Gone--" Mrs. Marborough repeated. "It gave me such a shock--I had hidden
the pearls in the teapot. This morning--"
Penny bent closer, suddenly realizing that the old lady was in possession
of her faculties and was trying to disclose something of great
importance.
"I went there this morning," Mrs. Marborough completed with difficulty.
"The pearls were gone. They've been stolen. Now I have nothing."
CHAPTER
22
_THE MISSING NECKLACE_
Penny tried to quiet the old lady by assuring her that the pearl necklace
must be somewhere in the house.
"No--no, it is gone," Mrs. Marborough insisted. "A thief entered the
house during the night. The shock of it brought on this attack."
Spent by the effort required to speak, the widow closed her eyes, and
relaxed. Thinking that she had gone to sleep, Penny left the bedside for
a moment. A quick glance assured her that the kitchen window was open,
and far more alarming, the screen had been neatly cut from its frame. An
empty China teapot stood on the kitchen table.
"It must be true!" Penny thought with a sinking heart. "The pearls have
been stolen, and the shock of it nearly killed Mrs. Marborough! But who
could have known that she had the necklace here in the house?"
Louise and Rhoda were beyond suspicion, and for a moment she could think
of no others who had knowledge of the pearls. Then, with a start, it came
to her that the story had been told the previous night at the Breens.
"Ted knew about it and he was interested!" she thought. "But I can't
believe he would do such a contemptible thing--even if he did once steal
a chicken."
Penny's unhappy reflections were broken by the arrival of Rhoda with
Doctor Hamilton. For the next half hour the girls were kept more than
busy carrying out his instructions.
"Mrs. Marborough, in a way you have been very fortunate," the doctor said
as he finally prepared to leave the house. "Your attack has been a light
one and with proper care you should be on your feet again within a week
or two. I'll arrange to have you taken to the hospital at once."
The widow tried to raise up in bed. "I won't go!" she announced.
"Hospitals cost money--more than I have to spend."
"It won't cost you anything, Mrs. Marborough. I'll arrange everything."
"I refuse to be a charity patient," the widow declared defiantly. "I'll
die first! Go away and take your pills with you!"
"Then if you refuse hospital care, I must arrange for a nurse."
"I can't afford that either," the old lady snapped. "Just go away and
I'll get along by myself. I'm feeling better. If I could only have a cup
of tea--"
"I'll make it for you," Rhoda offered eagerly.
Penny signaled to the doctor, indicating that she wished him to follow
her into another room. Once beyond the hearing of the old lady, she
outlined a plan.
"Mrs. Marborough likes Rhoda very much," she said to the doctor. "I think
she might be perfectly satisfied to be looked after by her."
"The girl seems sensible and efficient," Doctor Hamilton replied. "But
would she be willing to stay?"
"I think she might for she has no home of her own."
Relieved to have the problem solved so easily, the doctor declared that
the plan could be tried for a few days at least.
"I'll drop in again late tonight," he promised, picking up his bag.
Consulted by Penny, Rhoda said at once that she would be happy indeed to
remain with Mrs. Marborough as long as her services were required. The
widow too seemed pleased by the arrangement.
"It's very good of you," she murmured to Rhoda. "I can't pay you though.
Not unless my pearls are recovered."
"Your pearls?" the girl echoed in astonishment.
Penny drew her friend aside, explaining what had occurred. Rhoda was
shocked to learn that the necklace had been stolen.
"How dreadful!" she gasped. "Who could have taken the pearls?"
Apparently it did not occur to her that her own brother Ted might be
regarded with suspicion. Penny was much too kind to drop such a hint, and
kept her thoughts strictly to herself.
However, later in the day, with Mrs. Marborough's permission, she made a
full report of the theft to local police. An officer visited Rose Acres,
but aside from establishing exactly how the house had been entered,
obtained few useful clues. Questioned at considerable length, Penny
disclosed that so far as she knew only Louise Sidell, the trailer camp
family, Ted, Rhoda and herself had known that the pearls were in the
mansion.
"We'll keep that Breen family under surveillance," the officer promised.
"I'll let you know if anything develops."
Another problem immediately confronted Penny. An inspection of the
cupboards of the Marborough home had revealed that there was barely
enough food to last a day.
"Buy whatever you need," the widow instructed. "You'll find money in the
top bureau drawer."
By diligent search, the girls found four dollars and twenty-four cents
which they felt certain was all the money the old lady possessed.
"Why, the medicines Doctor Hamilton ordered will take almost this much!"
Penny said in dismay. "Something must be done."
Both girls respected Mrs. Marborough's desire for secrecy, but they knew
it would not be possible to help her and, at the same time, prevent the
townspeople from learning of her dire poverty. Deeply troubled, Penny
placed the problem in Mrs. Weems' hands.
"Why, that poor woman!" the housekeeper explained. "To think that she is
sick and hasn't the things that she needs. I'll send a basket of food at
once. I am sure many people will be eager to help."
Mrs. Weems busied herself at the telephone, and within a few hours, all
manner of useful gifts began to arrive at Rose Acres. Neighbors came to
help Rhoda with the housework and to care for the widow.
As was inevitable, the entire story of Mrs. Marborough's poverty,
including the loss of the pearl necklace, circulated throughout
Riverview. Since there no longer was any excuse for secrecy, Penny
disclosed to members of the Pilgrimage Committee what had become of the
old lady's furniture and why she had refused to open her house during
Festival Week. To her delight, a fund immediately was raised for the
purpose of re-purchasing the valuable antiques. Mr. Butterworth, pleased
to cooperate, agreed to sell the furniture for exactly the price he had
paid.
The days drifted slowly along. Under Rhoda's faithful care, Mrs.
Marborough soon was able to sit up in a wheel chair. Much subdued since
the heart attack, she had little to say even when a moving van arrived
with her household furnishings. But one afternoon while Penny was
inserting new candles in the glass candelabrum she so much admired, the
old lady watched her from her chair by the window.
"You and Rhoda have fixed the house up so nicely," she said. "You've been
very kind to me, and so have all the folks in Riverview."
"You have a great many friends, Mrs. Marborough," Penny replied, smiling.
"You never gave them a chance to show it before."
"Perhaps I have been unfriendly," the widow acknowledged. "I didn't mean
to be. Now that I'd like to show my appreciation, there's no way to do
it. If only the police would get busy and find the rascal who stole my
necklace--"
Penny did not reply immediately, for she could think of nothing
encouraging to say. She and Rhoda both believed that the thief who had
taken the pearls never would be apprehended.
"Mrs. Marborough," she said at length, "there is a way you could show the
people of Riverview how you feel--but I'm sure you wouldn't care to do
it."
"By opening my home for the Pilgrimage?" the widow asked, smiling.
"That's what I had in mind, but of course--"
"When is the Festival?" Mrs. Marborough broke in. "I've lost track of
time since I've been sick."
"It starts day after tomorrow." Penny drew a deep sigh. "I'm afraid the
Festival may be a failure, for not half enough tickets have been sold."
"Would it help to include this house in the Pilgrimage?"
"It would save the Festival!" cried Penny. "You're not well enough to go
through with it, though!"
"Fiddlesticks!" Mrs. Marborough snapped, her spirits reviving. "I'd like
nothing better than a big party. What pleasure is it sitting in a wheel
chair staring at a cracked wall? Now you go ahead and plan it just the
way you like."
With time so short, Penny flew into action. She contacted members of the
Festival Committee and immediately a new publicity campaign was launched.
It was announced that Rose Acres would be included in the Pilgrimage and
that a grand costume ball at the mansion would be open to the public.
"The affair is certain to be a success," Penny told her father
enthusiastically. "I wish though that the Indian Show wasn't playing
Riverview at the same time. By the way, have you made any further
progress in proving that Jay Franklin's record stones are fakes?"
"Not very much," Mr. Parker ruefully admitted. "A report came back on
that tool you picked up at Truman Crocker's shack."
"What was the verdict, Dad?"
"Professor Anjus, the expert who examined the chisel, says he believes
the stones could have been marked with it."
"Then Truman Crocker may be the guilty person!"
"It's not at all certain. In all events, I still hold to my original
theory that the hoax was planned by Bill McJavins of the Indian Show."
"I certainly hope Mr. Franklin fails in trying to sell the stones to the
museum."
"So do I," agreed the editor. "Unfortunately, unless I dig up evidence
very quickly, the transaction will take place."
Penny did not give a great deal of thought to the affair of the record
stones for Mrs. Marborough's illness had centered her interest at Rose
Acres. In truth, she was far more concerned about the missing pearls. The
police had made no progress in tracing the necklace and held scant hope
the thief would be captured.
As for Ted Wiegand, Penny was unable to make up her mind whether or not
he was the guilty person. Although he still worked for Judge Harlan, she
seldom saw him. Occasionally, reports of his progress were given to her
by Rhoda.
"Ted isn't provoked at me any more," she assured Penny. "He's beginning
to think as I do that Mr. Coaten has been up to something crooked. I know
for a fact that he gave Mrs. Breen money to force me out of the family."
"Are those two men still in town?" Penny asked thoughtfully.
Rhoda nodded. "They've been here to see me twice. Mrs. Marborough sent
them away the last time. She dislikes them both because they once came
here to ask if they could rent rooms."
"That must have been the night I overheard them talking at the wishing
well," Penny returned.
She remained silent a moment, thinking. Suddenly, she glanced up, her
eyes dancing. "Rhoda, I have an idea!"
"What is it, Penny?"
"It might not work, but if it should, we'd learn why Mr. Coaten is so
eager to adopt you and Ted."
"Tell me what you have in mind."
"It's like this, Rhoda! If we could induce Mr. Coaten and his friend to
come to Rose Acres on the night of the costume ball, I know how they
might be made to talk!"
"Strong arm methods?" Rhoda asked, slightly amused.
"Indeed not! The old wishing well will turn the trick."
"You certainly have me puzzled, Penny."
"Getting those men here will be the most difficult," Penny went on,
thinking aloud. "But I can sell them a ticket to the ball. Failing that,
I'll give them one free."
"There's still no guarantee they would come."
"I know how we can make sure of it! Rhoda, you can write Mr. Coaten a
note, asking him to meet you here at ten o'clock. The ball will be in
full sway by that time. If you hint you've decided to sign the adoption
papers, he's certain to come."
"And then how will I get out of it?"
"Leave that part to me," Penny chuckled. "We'll get Mr. Coaten here, and
you're to talk with him beside the wishing well."
"Why in that particular place?"
"I can't tell you now," Penny said, smiling mysteriously. "Just accept my
word for it that it's of utmost importance. As soon as you get the men at
the wishing well, make an excuse and run into the house, leaving them
together."
"And then what?" Rhoda asked, completely bewildered.
"From that point the old well and I will take over!" Penny laughed. "I
can't tell you another thing. But if my scheme works--and I think it
will--Mr. Coaten's little game will be exposed in a most dramatic way!"
CHAPTER
23
_GRAND BALL_
"Everything will be ruined--everything!" wailed Penny. She stood in the
living room at Rose Acres, her face pressed almost against the window
pane. "It's been raining for an hour straight! No one will come to the
party."
"Oh, don't take it so hard," Rhoda said cheerfully. "You know over three
hundred tickets were sold. Even if the rain does cut down the crowd we'll
still have as many people as this house can accommodate."
Admiringly, her gaze wandered about the room which glowed brilliantly
with the light of dozens of candles. Every chair was in place, flowers
decorated the vases, and at the square, old-fashioned piano, sat Mrs.
Marborough, in rustling black silk, playing a few tinkling chords.
"You mustn't tire yourself," Rhoda said to her. "Not until the guests
come, at least."
"I never felt better in my life," Mrs. Marborough insisted. "Why, I'm as
excited as a school girl! Is Judge Harlan really coming to the ball?"
"Everyone of consequence in Riverview will be here," Rhoda assured her.
"Even two of Penny's special guests."
"That's what worries me," Penny confessed, beginning to pace the floor.
"I have my trap all ready to spring, but if this horrid rain keeps up,
how can you meet Mr. Coaten by the well?"
"Why can't I talk to him in the library?"
"Because it won't do," Penny said patiently. "The entire scheme will fail
unless you carry out your part exactly as we planned it."
"The rain is letting up," Mrs. Marborough declared, carefully moving from
the piano to her wheel chair. "Mark my words, it will all be over within
fifteen minutes."
"Oh, I hope so!" Penny breathed. "I hope so!"
To her gratification, the rain did cease within a short while, and
members of the Festival Committee and hired musicians began to arrive.
For the occasion, Penny, Rhoda, and Louise, had rented colonial costumes
with fancy powdered wigs. They hovered near the front door, ready to
greet the first guests.
"It's going to be a wonderful party," Louise remarked happily.
Soon visitors began to arrive in groups. The orchestra struck up and the
ballroom became thronged with dancers.
"Mrs. Marborough is having a marvelous time," Rhoda told Louise. "In
fact, so is everyone except Penny. She's worried because Mr. Coaten
hasn't come."
Two men alighted from a taxi and walked up the path to the house.
"Here they come now!" Penny whispered excitedly. "Quick, Rhoda. Keep out
of sight until I give the word!"
Barely had the girl vanished than Mr. Coaten and his companion reached
the reception line. Penny greeted them with unusual warmth.
"Is Rhoda Wiegand here?" Mr. Coaten asked curtly. "We came to see her,
not to attend the party."
"She was around a moment ago," Penny answered. "Why don't you look for
her in the garden--perhaps by the wishing well."
The instant the two men had gone, Penny quickly ran to find Rhoda.
"Now remember, don't talk to Mr. Coaten except at the wishing well," she
issued final instructions. "Then when he asks you to sign the paper, make
an excuse and leave."
"I won't forget," Rhoda nodded. "But I still don't understand what you're
up to."
Anxiously Penny watched from the porch until she saw that her friend
actually was talking to the two men beside the wishing well. Then,
running into the crowded ballroom, she signaled the musicians to stop the
music. Clapping her hands for attention, she announced:
"Ladies and gentlemen--a little surprise! The Old Wishing Well speaks!
Listen and you may hear the conversation of unwary guests who reveal
their secrets beside it!"
Reaching for a box secreted in a clump of artificial palms, Penny turned
a switch. The startled dancers heard a crackling sound, and then Rhoda's
voice came in on the loudspeaker, clear and distinct.
"I've thought it over, Mr. Coaten," were her words. "Even though I can't
understand why you wish to adopt Ted and me I'll agree to the
guardianship."
"Ah, I knew you would come to your senses," Mr. Coaten answered. "Just
sign this paper and we'll be able to go into court and settle
everything."
There was a slight pause and then Rhoda said: "Will you excuse me a
moment, Mr. Coaten? I want to run into the house, but I'll be back."
Those in the ballroom had gathered close to Penny, listening with
interest to the conversation, but curious to learn its significance.
"Listen!" she commanded, as many persons began to comment.
The two men who stood alone at the wishing well were talking again, and
Penny did not intend to miss a single word.
"Now what possessed Rhoda?" she heard Mr. Coaten mutter. "Is she going to
back out again?"
"No, we have her nailed this time," the other answered. "That land is as
good as ours! As soon as the adoption is legal, we'll put in our claim.
The Texano Oil Company will pay handsomely. What those youngsters don't
know won't hurt them."
The words, blaring out into the ballroom, were exactly what Penny wished
to hear. Believing themselves to be alone, the two men were making
damaging admissions. However, although it was evident that they meant to
profit at Rhoda's expense, she could not understand exactly what they
meant to do.
Judge Harlan stepped forward to inspect the radio equipment. "What is
this?" he inquired. "A special joke of yours, Penelope?"
"It's no joke," she assured him earnestly. "Mr. Coaten has been trying to
force Rhoda and Ted to agree to an adoption. We were suspicious of him,
and so we arranged this little affair."
"How is the sound brought into the house?"
"I had a microphone installed inside the wishing well," Penny revealed.
"The wires run through an underground tunnel."
"Very clever, very clever indeed," murmured the judge. "And the meaning
of the conversation?"
"I don't know," Penny confessed. "Mr. Coaten is trying to cheat Rhoda and
Ted, but how I can't guess. They own no property."
"Mr. Coaten spoke of the Texano Oil Company," the judge said
thoughtfully. "That gives me a faint inkling--"
He did not finish, for at that instant Rhoda came hurriedly into the
room. Penny motioned for her to join the group by the loudspeaker.
"Rhoda," said the judge, turning to her, "did your father own land in
Texas?"
"Never," she replied promptly. "The only person in our family who owned
property was grandfather. He had a large farm but sold it long before his
death."
"Do you know the location of the property?" inquired the judge.
"I believe it was near the town of Elkland."
"Elkland! Then perhaps we have the explanation. Less than a month ago oil
was discovered in that locality!"
"But the Wiegand land was sold years ago," Penny murmured.
"Much litigation has resulted from the fact that in the past many Texas
properties were sold with oil rights reserved," explained the judge.
"Now, this is only a guess. However, if Rhoda's grandfather kept such oil
rights--as he may well have done--his heirs would have indisputable claim
to any income derived from such source."
The loudspeaker had come to life again. As the two men at the wishing
well resumed their conversation, everyone in the ballroom strained to
hear the words.
"We'll get out of Riverview just as soon as the girl signs the paper,"
Mr. Coaten said to his companion. "We've wasted enough time in this
one-horse town."
"Oh, I shouldn't say wasted," drawled Carl Addison. "We'll get the oil
money. And that's not all. Take a look at this little trinket!"
There was a brief pause, followed by Mr. Coaten's angry exclamation: "The
Marborough pearls! So you stole them!"
"Careful of your words," the other warned. "Your own record isn't so
pure."
"I've never descended to stealing!"
"No?" Mr. Addison mocked. "The only difference is that you tie your
packages up with legal red tape so that no one can pin anything on you."
"I use my head! Stealing the Marborough pearls was a stupid thing to do.
You may go to prison for it."
"There's no risk," the other retorted. "The police didn't find a single
clue."
The voices died away, indicating that the two men had moved some distance
from the wishing well. Nevertheless, everyone in the ballroom had heard
enough to realize that Mrs. Marborough's priceless pearls were in the
possession of Mr. Coaten's companion, Carl Addison.
"I understand it all now!" Penny exclaimed. "Mr. Coaten and his friend
must have been standing outside the window of the trailer that night when
Rhoda told the Breen family about finding the pearls! They probably heard
the conversation."
"I want those two men arrested!" Mrs. Marborough announced in a shrill
voice, propelling her wheel chair toward the door. "Why doesn't someone
do something?"
Spurred to action, Judge Harlan instructed several men from the group to
guard the estate exits. Accompanied by Penny, Rhoda, Louise, in fact,
nearly every person who had attended the party, he strode into the yard
to confront the two conspirators. Taken completely by surprise, Mr.
Coaten and his friend did not immediately understand the meaning of the
encircling delegation.
"Your little game is up," said Penny, thoroughly savoring the moment. "We
know now that your real reason for wanting to adopt Rhoda and Ted was to
gain control of valuable oil lands!"
"And you stole my pearl necklace!" accused Mrs. Marborough. "I want it
returned!" Thoroughly incensed, she wheeled her chair directly into Carl
Addison, seizing him by the coat.
"Madam, I know nothing about your pearls," the man blustered, shaking
loose from her grasp. "We came to this party only because we were given
free tickets."
"Let's get out of here," Mr. Coaten said gruffly, starting away.
"It's no use," Penny interposed, blocking the path. "We have learned
everything. You see, a microphone was installed at the wishing well and
it carried your entire conversation into the ballroom for everyone to
hear."
Mr. Coaten and his companion, gazing at the unfriendly faces encircling
them, realized that they could not hope to explain the situation away.
In a sudden break for freedom, Carl Addison ran to the hedge and
attempted to leap over it. One of the guards at a nearby exit seized the
man and brought him back.
"Search his pockets!" Mrs. Marborough cried.
Judge Harlan did as the widow demanded, but the missing pearls were not
found on either of the men.
"There, you see!" Mr. Coaten declared triumphantly. "You have falsely
accused my friend."
Penny suspected that Mr. Addison had disposed of the jewel case somewhere
near the hedge. Crossing to it, she groped about on the ground. After a
brief search her hand encountered a tiny box which she knew must contain
the stolen necklace. Returning with it, she displayed the pearls and
presented them to Mrs. Marborough.
"Do we need additional evidence to hold these men?" she asked Judge
Harlan anxiously.
"You have produced more than enough," he replied. Turning to the two
culprits, he said sternly: "I place you both under arrest! Stand where
you are until the police arrive, and remember, anything you say may be
used against you."
CHAPTER
24
_RIVER RISING_
The exposure of Mr. Coaten and Carl Addison had been even more dramatic
than Penny had dared hope it might be. She felt very grateful to Judge
Harlan for the vital information he had provided regarding oil lands, and
especially for the "break" of luck which had made it possible to regain
Mrs. Marborough's necklace.
"How glad I am that I never told Rhoda I suspected Ted of the theft," she
thought. "I was very unjust."
After the two Texas men had been removed to jail by Riverview police, the
party went on with more gaiety than before. Penny, the center of
attention, was forced to tell over and over how a high-school boy friend
had assisted her in installing the microphone-loudspeaker arrangement in
the old wishing well.
"I wasn't at all certain it would work," she modestly declared. "I did
hope that under the proper conditions, those two men would talk, and they
did!"
"You are a very clever young lady," praised Judge Harlan, patting her
arm. "This will make a nice story for your father's paper too."
Mrs. Marborough did not try to express in words her appreciation for the
recovery of the heirloom pearls. However, throughout the evening, her
worshipful gaze followed Penny wherever she went. Not until refreshments
were being served did she have an opportunity to say:
"Penelope, you have brought me more happiness than I deserve--you and
Rhoda together. Now that I have the pearls again, I'll be able to carry
out a few of my plans."
"You'll remain in Riverview?" Penny asked eagerly.
"Yes, I shall, and I've been wondering--do you suppose Rhoda and Ted
would be willing to live with me? I'm getting old. While I'll have money
enough I'll need someone."
"Why not talk to Rhoda about it?"
"I think I shall," Mrs. Marborough nodded. "I'll do it tonight."
Penny was pleased a few minutes later when Rhoda relayed the widow's
request to her.
"Will you agree to it?" she asked the girl, her eyes twinkling.
"Will I?" Rhoda laughed. "I love Rose Acres, and Ted and I will be
together again! Mrs. Breen was kind to us, but she has her own family.
Mrs. Marborough needs someone to care for her."
"I think the arrangement will be an ideal one," Penny declared. "Oh, yes,
I meant to tell you. Judge Harlan has promised to look after your legal
interests. With him working on the case those oil rights are the same as
yours right now!"
As the night wore on, additional guests arrived at Rose Acres, crowding
the spacious rooms. Nevertheless, shortly before midnight, Penny was
surprised to see her father's car drive up to the door, for she had not
expected him to attend the party. Mr. Parker was accompanied by a
reporter, Jerry Livingston.
"What brings you two news hawks here?" Penny asked, running outside to
greet the newcomers. "You must have heard about Mr. Coaten and the pearl
necklace!"
"Yes, but that's not why we came," Mr. Parker tersely replied. "There's
been a break in the dam above Cedarville and the river is rising fast!"
"Rose Acres isn't in danger?" gasped Penny.
"The water shouldn't come this high, but the flats will be inundated
within a few minutes. Everyone is being warned to get out fast!"
"We've not been able to telephone Truman Crocker," Jerry added. "His
shack has no 'phone."
"Can we drive down there?" Mr. Parker asked anxiously.
Penny shook her head. "Not without going miles around. The quickest way
is to take the trail at the rear of this property. Wait, I'll show you!"
Darting into the house for a coat, she led her father and Jerry to the
hillside. Then, deciding to accompany them, she went on ahead down the
steep incline.
"There's a light burning in the shack," Mr. Parker observed a few minutes
later. "Crocker must be up."
Reaching the building, the editor thumped once on the door of the
workshop and then pushed it open. Truman Crocker was busy at his bench.
Startled by the unexpected intrusion of the three visitors, he backed a
few steps away from them.
"You can't do nothin' to me," he mumbled. "All I did was what I was told
to do."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Mr. Parker cut him short.
"We're here to warn you! The dam at Cedarville has let go, and the river
is rising fast."
"The river--" the stonecutter faltered.
For a fleeting instant the man's gaze had roved toward a large object
covered with a piece of canvas. As Crocker's words came back to Penny,
she suddenly knew why he had been so startled to see her father.
Impulsively, she darted across the room and jerked the canvas from the
object it covered. Revealed for all to see was a large rounded rock,
bearing a carving which had not been completed.
"A record stone!" she cried. "Truman Crocker, you are the one who planted
those fakes! You've been hired by someone!"
"No, no," the man denied, cringing away.
Mr. Parker strode across the room, and one glance at the rock Penny had
uncovered convinced him that his daughter's accusation was a sound one.
Obviously, the stone had been treated with acid and chemicals to give it
an appearance of great age. Several Indian figures remained uncompleted.
"Who hired you?" he demanded of Truman Crocker. "Tell the truth!"
"I ain't tellin' nothing," the stonecutter returned sullenly.
"Then you'll go to jail," Mr. Parker retorted. "You've been a party to a
fraud. It was the publicity agent of the Indian Show who hired you. He
probably gave you a hundred dollars for the job."
"Not that much," Crocker muttered. "An' you can't send me to jail because
all I did was fix the stones and put 'em where he told me."
"You won't go to jail if you testify to the truth," Mr. Parker assured
him. "All you'll have to do is tell what you know--"
"I ain't going to tell nothing," Crocker said sullenly.
Moving so quickly that both Jerry and Mr. Parker were caught off guard,
he wheeled and ran out the open door.
"Get him!" the editor barked. "Unless he'll testify against Bill McJavins
we may lose a big story!"
Penny waited anxiously at the shack while her father and Jerry pursued
the fleeing man. Ten minutes later they stumbled back, completely winded,
to report their failure. The laborer had hidden somewhere among the
bushes dotting the hillside, and they could not hope to find him.
"Without Crocker's story we have no more evidence than we ever had," Mr.
Parker declared in disgust.
Penny tapped the big rock with the half-completed carving. "You have this
stone, Dad. If you could photograph it in this unfinished state, wouldn't
it tell its own story?"
"We have no camera here, and the river is rising fast. How long would it
take you to get to town and back, Jerry?"
"I might make it in thirty minutes."
"Before that time, this shack will be under water."
Anxiously, Mr. Parker gazed at the dark, angry flood which swept so close
to the door of the cabin. Inch by inch it was eating away a board walk
which led to a pier and a boat tied to it.
"Dad!" Penny suddenly cried. "If only we could get this stone into the
boat we could float it to Riverview!"
"Not a chance," Mr. Parker returned briefly. "Both would sink."
"We're completely out of luck," added Jerry. "At the rate the water is
coming up, this shack will be awash in another fifteen minutes."
"Dad," Penny went on determinedly, "if we could make a heavy raft,
couldn't the stone be floated? It might be towed behind the boat."
"A raft? There's nothing from which to make one."
"Yes, there is!" Penny pointed to several barrels, up-ended in a dark
corner of the shop.
"It's an idea!" cried Jerry. "We have Crocker's tools! This story means a
lot to you, Chief. Isn't it worth a try?"
"Maybe it is," Mr. Parker conceded, and then with sudden enthusiasm:
"Let's get to work. By moving fast we may yet outwit Old Man River!"
CHAPTER
25
_PRECIOUS CARGO_
Working with feverish haste, Mr. Parker and Jerry constructed a raft of
eight empty barrels, wiring them together into one solid unit. Penny
aided the two men as best she could, holding tools and offering
suggestions which were not especially appreciated.
"Run outside and see that the boat is all right," Mr. Parker instructed
her. "We mustn't let it float away."
Obeying, Penny discovered that already the river was flowing in a
shallow, muddy stream over the pier. The swift current tugged at the
underpinning, threatening to carry it away. Wading through the water, she
reached the boat and drew it close to the shack where she retied it.
By the time she finished, her father and Jerry had completed the raft.
"How will you ever get the stone on it?" Penny asked anxiously. "It must
weigh several hundred pounds."
"Just watch," grinned Jerry.
During Penny's absence, he and Mr. Parker had constructed a small square
platform of rough boards, equipped with four tiny rollers. Getting the
stone on it, they were able to trundle it outside to the raft with a
minimum of exertion.
"Now dump her on easy," Mr. Parker ordered Jerry. "If she sinks, our
story sinks too."
Together they rolled the heavy stone from the platform to the raft which
immediately began to settle beneath the great weight.
"It's going under!" Penny screamed.
As the three watched anxiously, the raft steadied and rode just beneath
the surface of the water.
"She floats!" Jerry cried jubilantly. "Now unless we have an upset or
strike an object in the river, we should make it to the Adams Street
pier."
"We'll have a _Star_ paper truck meet us there, and haul the rock to the
newspaper plant," Mr. Parker added with satisfaction. "Let's shove off!"
Penny had untied the rowboat. However, as she prepared to step into it,
her father pulled her back.
"This little trip isn't for you, Penny. We might upset."
"Don't be ridiculous, Dad," she argued. "You know very well I can swim
circles around you. If the boat does go under, you'll be glad to have me
along."
"Maybe you're right," the editor conceded. "Jump in."
Water was flowing over the floor of the Crocker shack as the boat and the
cumbersome raft started downstream. Jerry, who had elected to steer,
found himself hard pressed to keep the prow nosing into the waves. Mr.
Parker pulled without much enthusiasm at an extra oar supplied him,
content to allow the swift current to do most of the work.
"Isn't it fun?" Penny demanded, snuggling close to her father. "Just look
at the beautiful stars!"
"Look at the river," Mr. Parker retorted. "Do you realize that if we
should strike a floating object--if that big rock should shift--"
"And see the lovely moon," Penny went on dreamily. "I think it's laughing
at the joke we're going to play on Jay Franklin in the morning."
"That old coot will get a shock when he reads the _Star_," Mr. Parker
admitted, relaxing. "So will the publicity agent of the Indian Show. When
I get through, the outfit won't dare put on a performance in Riverview."
"Do you suppose Franklin had any part in hiring Truman Crocker to fake
those record stones?" Jerry asked, steering to avoid a floating box.
"Not in my opinion," the editor replied. "He merely thought he would
profit by selling them to the museum at a fancy price. It was immaterial
to him whether or not he sold fake stones or real."
"You'll certainly ruin his little business transaction," chuckled Penny.
"What will be done about Truman Crocker?"
"We'll find him tomorrow and force him to tell the truth--that he was
hired by Bill McJavins. With this stone as evidence, he can't deny his
part in the hoax."
"Can't you just see that special edition of the _Star_?" Penny asked
gaily. "A big splashy picture of this Pilgrim Rock we're towing, with a
story telling how Truman Crocker faked the writing. Then, in the next
column, a yarn about Mr. Addison's arrest, and the recovery of the
Marborough pearls."
"It will be a real paper," Mr. Parker agreed heartily. "By the way, how
were Mr. Coaten and Carl Addison trapped? Our reporter got the story from
the police, but he was a bit vague on that point."
"I'm far too modest to tell you," Penny laughed. "If you're willing to
pay me at regular space rates, I might be induced to write the story."
"Trust Penny to drive a hard bargain," grinned Jerry. "We might have
guessed who was responsible, for she never fails to be on hand for the
final round-up."
Penny smiled as she gazed down the dark, turbulent river. Close by she
heard the deep-throated whistle of a tug boat. Along the bank, tall
buildings began to appear, and far ahead, she could see the twinkling
lights on the Adams Street pier.
"We've worked on some dandy stories together," she murmured, "but this
one tops them all for a thrilling finish. Mrs. Marborough regained her
pearls, Rhoda won a home, the two men from Texas are behind bars, and the
wishing well is equipped with a brand new microphone! You know, I'd like
to make one more wish down its moist old throat!"
"What would you ask for this time?" Jerry asked banteringly. "A safe
arrival in port?"
Penny shook her head. "We're almost at the pier now. I'd wish that Dad's
hunk of granite would turn into a lump of pure gold. Then I'd truly feel
as if I were the captain of a treasure ship sailing home with precious
cargo."
"Oh, I wouldn't ask for a better cargo than we have right here," Mr.
Parker responded heartily. "At this moment I would rather have our old
rock than all the gold in the world!"
Transcriber's Notes
--Replaced the list of books in the series by the complete list, as in
the final book, "The Cry at Midnight".
--Silently corrected a handful of palpable typos.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wishing Well, by Mildred A. Wirt
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WISHING WELL ***
***** This file should be named 34689-8.txt or 34689-8.zip *****
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
https://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/6/8/34689/
Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Brenda Lewis and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
will be renamed.
Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules,
set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project
Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you
do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.
*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
https://gutenberg.org/license).
Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic works
1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works. See paragraph 1.E below.
1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the
collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an
individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in
a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check
the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning
the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
States.
1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
copied or distributed:
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
1.E.9.
1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked
to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg-tm License.
1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or
distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
that
- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is
owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments
must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
License. You must require such a user to return or
destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
Project Gutenberg-tm works.
- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
of receipt of the work.
- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the
Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
1.F.
1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.
1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.
1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with
the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy
is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
opportunities to fix the problem.
1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any
provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists
because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
people in all walks of life.
Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at
809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
[email protected]. Email contact links and up to date contact
information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
page at https://pglaf.org
For additional contact information:
Dr. Gregory B. Newby
Chief Executive and Director
[email protected]
Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
Literary Archive Foundation
Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
status with the IRS.
The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To
SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
particular state visit https://pglaf.org
While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.
International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
works.
Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily
keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
https://www.gutenberg.org
This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
