“For you to write,” she added ruefully. “Just a Sister Friday—that’s my fate in this office.”
Actually Penny welcomed an opportunity to accompany Jerry, for she liked him better than any young man of her acquaintance. Spearing the story she had just written on the copy desk spindle, she followed the reporter to the parking lot. Jerry helped her into one of the press cars, and they expertly drove through heavy downtown traffic.
“What’s the latest on the Preston case?” Penny inquired, clutching her hat to keep it from blowing out the window.
“No latest,” Jerry answered briefly. “The Prestons won’t talk, Mrs. Davis won’t talk, the sheriff won’t talk. So far it totals up to one little story about a fire.”
“Dad said the sheriff had learned Clem Davis was a member of a secret organization, probably known as the Black Hoods.”
“Sheriff Daniels claims he has documentary proof,”Jerry admitted. “He won’t produce it though, and I have a sneaking suspicion that he may be bluffing.”
“Then you think he wants to convict Clem Davis whether or not he’s guilty?”
“He wants to end the case just as quickly as he can, Penny. The November elections aren’t far away. If this night rider story gets a start, the dear public might turn on him, demanding action or his job.”
“Do you think there actually is such an organization as the Black Hoods, Jerry?”
“I do,” he returned soberly. “After talking with the Prestons and Mrs. Davis, I’m convinced they could tell quite a bit about it if they were willing to furnish evidence.”
It pleased Penny that Jerry’s opinion so nearly coincided with her own. Eagerly she told him of her own talk with Mrs. Davis, mentioning that someone had been hiding in the cornfield near the cabin.
“What time was that?” Jerry asked, stopping the car at a traffic light.
“Shortly after twelve o’clock.”
“Then it couldn’t have been Sheriff Daniels or his deputies,” the reporter declared. “I was at the county office talking to them about that same time.”
“It might have been Clem Davis,” Penny suggested. “I’m sure his wife knows where he is hiding.”
As the car sped over the country road, she kept the discussion alive by mentioning the watch charm which she had picked up at the Davis stable. Jerry had not seen the picture of the little boy, but promised to inspect it just as soon as he returned to the Star offices.
“Clem Davis has no children,” he assured Penny, “so it’s unlikely the charm ever belonged to him. You may have found an important clue.”
“I only wish Dad would officially assign me to the story,” she grumbled. “He never will, though.”
Presently the car approached the Riverview Orphans’Home, a large brick building set back some distance from the road. Children in drab blue uniforms could be seen playing in the front yard, supervised by a woman official.
“Poor kids,” Jerry said with honest feeling, “you can’t help feeling sorry for ’em. They deserve the best summer camp this town can provide.”
“The project is certain to be possible now,” Penny replied. “Mr. Blake’s cheque put the campaign over the top.”
Jerry gave the steering wheel an expert flip, turning the car into the private road.
“Don’t tell me that old bird actually parted with any money!”
“Oh, he did, Jerry. He donated a cheque for a hundred and fifty dollars.”
“And no strings attached?”
“Well, he hinted that he wanted a nice write-up about himself. I was torturing myself with the story when you interrupted.”
“It’s mighty queer,” the reporter muttered. “Leopards don’t change their spots. Blake must expect something more tangible than publicity out of the deal.”
His mind centering on what Penny had just told him, Jerry gave no thought to his driving. Handling the steering wheel skillfully, but automatically, he whirled the car into the play area of the institution, drawing up with a loud screeching of brakes.
Uncertain that the reporter could stop, the children scattered in all directions. One little girl remained squarely in front of the car. Covering her face with her hands, she began to scream.
“Gosh all fish hooks!” Jerry exclaimed in dismay. “I didn’t mean to frighten the kid.”
Jumping from the coupe, he and Penny ran to the child.
“You’re all right,” Jerry said, stooping beside the little girl. “The car didn’t come within a mile of you. I’m mighty sorry.”
Nothing that either he nor Penny could say seemed to quiet the child. Her screams did not subside until a matron appeared and took her by the hand.
“Come Adelle,” she said gently. “We’ll go into the house.”
“I’m as sorry as I can be,” Jerry apologized, doffing his hat. “I didn’t intend to drive into the yard so fast. It’s all my fault.”
The attendant smiled to set him at ease. “Don’t mind,” she said quietly. “Adelle is very easily upset. I’ll explain to you later.”
CHAPTER 9
JERRY’S PARTY
Both Penny and Jerry regretted the incident, feeling that they had been at fault because they had driven into the play area at such high speed.
“Maybe I can send the kid a box of candy or make it up to her in some way,” the reporter remarked.
Roving about the yard, he and Penny talked to many of the orphans. Nearly all of the children answered questions self-consciously and had little to say.
“We’ll not get much of a story here,” Jerry commented in an undertone. “These youngsters are as much alike as if they had been cut from one pattern.”
“Adelle was different,” Penny returned with a smile. “Almost too much so.”
In a short while, Miss Anderson, the young woman who had taken the child away, returned to the play yard. Penny and Jerry immediately inquired about the little girl.
“Oh, she is quite herself again,” the young woman responded. “The upset was only a temporary one.”
“Is Adelle easily frightened?” Penny inquired curiously.
“Unfortunately, she is terrified of automobiles,” responded Miss Anderson. “I am afraid it is becoming a complex. You see, about a year ago both of her parents were killed in a motor accident.”
“How dreadful!” Penny gasped.
“Adelle was in the car but escaped with a broken leg,” the young woman resumed. “The incident made a very deep impression upon her.”
“I should think so!” exclaimed Jerry. “How did the accident occur?”
“We don’t know exactly, for Adelle was the only witness. According to her story, the Hanover automobile was crowded off the road by another motorist who drove at reckless speed, without lights. The car upset, pinning the occupants beneath it.”
“It seems to me I remember that story,” Jerry said thoughtfully. “The hit-run driver never was caught.”
“No, according to Adelle he stopped, only to drive on again when he saw that her parents were beyond help.”
“The man must have been heartless!” Penny declared indignantly. “How could he run away?”
“Because he feared the consequences,” Miss Anderson answered. “Had he been apprehended he would have faced charges for manslaughter, and undoubtedly would have been assessed heavy damages.”
“I take it the child has no property or she wouldn’t be at this institution,” Jerry said soberly.
“Adelle is penniless. Her parents were her only relatives, so she was brought to us.”
“It’s a shame!” Penny declared feelingly. “Wasn’t there any clue as to the identity of the man who caused the fatal accident?”
“No worthwhile ones. Adelle insists that she saw the driver’s face plainly and could recognize him again. However, she never was able to give a very good description, nor to make an identification.”
Having heard the story, Jerry was more than ever annoyed at himself because he had caused the child
needless suffering.
“Miss Anderson, isn’t there something I can do to make amends?” he asked earnestly. “What would the little girl like? Candy, toys?”
“It isn’t necessary that you give her anything.”
“I want to do it,” Jerry insisted.
“In that case, why not make some small bequest to the institution, or send something which may be enjoyed by all the children.”
“Jerry, I have an idea!” cried Penny impulsively. “Why not give a party? Would that be permissible, Miss Anderson?”
“Indeed, yes. The children love them, and outings away from the institution are their special delight.”
“Let’s give a watermelon party!” Penny proposed, immediately considering herself Jerry’s partner in the affair. “We could take the children to a nearby farm and let them gorge themselves!”
“The children would enjoy it, I’m sure,” Miss Anderson smiled. “Can transportation be arranged? We have sixty boys and girls.”
“I’ll take care of everything,” Jerry promised. “Suppose we set tomorrow afternoon as the date.”
“Oh, can’t we have the party at night?” Penny pleaded. “There will be a full moon. A watermelon feast wouldn’t be much fun by daylight.”
Miss Anderson replied that she thought the children might be allowed to attend such a party, providing it were held early in the evening. Penny and Jerry talked with her about various details of the plan, and then drove away from the institution.
“Well, you certainly got me into something,” Jerry chuckled as the car turned into the main road. “Where are we going to throw this party?”
“Oh, any melon farmer will be glad to let the children invade his patch, providing we pay for the privilege,”Penny answered carelessly. “You might turn in at the next farm.”
Her confidence proved to be ill-founded, for Mr. Kahler, the farmer whom they accosted, would not consider the proposition.
“The children will trample the vines, and do a lot of damage,” he declined. “Why don’t you try the Wentover place?”
At the Wentover farm, Jerry and Penny likewise were turned down.
“No one wants sixty orphans running rampant over his place,” the reporter observed in discouragement. “We may as well give up the idea.”
“It’s possible Mrs. Davis would allow us to hold a muskmelon party at her farm,” Penny replied thoughtfully. “Now that her husband has skipped, she must be in need of money.”
The chance of success seemed unlikely. However, to please Penny, Jerry drove to the Davis property. To their surprise they found the place humming with activity. Professional melon pickers were at work in the patch, and Mrs. Davis, dressed in overalls, was personally supervising the laborers.
“I have no time to answer questions!” she announced to Jerry before he could speak. “Please go away and leave me alone!”
“Oh, I’m not here in an official capacity this time,” the reporter grinned. “We want to make you a business proposition.”
He then explained what he had in mind. Mrs. Davis listened attentively but with suspicion.
“It’s likely some trick!” she declared. “I’ll have nothing to do with it!”
“Mrs. Davis, we’re not trying to deceive you,”Penny interposed earnestly. “We’ve tried several other farms before we came here. No one is willing to let the children trample the vines.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt mine,” the woman admitted. “By tomorrow night we’ll have all the best melons picked and sorted. I reckon the youngsters can have what’s left in the patch.”
“We’ll pay you well for the privilege,” Jerry promised, taking out his wallet.
“I don’t want your money,” the woman answered shortly. “Just see to it that the youngsters don’t tear up the place.”
Neither Penny nor Jerry wished to accept such a favor, but Mrs. Davis firmly refused to take pay.
“You know, I think the old girl has a tender heart beneath a hard exterior,” the reporter remarked after the woman had gone back to the patch. “Down under she’s a pretty decent sort.”
For a time Penny and Jerry watched the laborers at their work. Heaping baskets of melons were brought from the patch to the barn. There they were sorted, stamped, and packed into crates which were loaded into a truck.
“Nice looking melons,” the reporter remarked. “Mrs. Davis should make a pretty fair profit.”
An elderly workman, who was sorting melons, glanced sideways at Jerry, grinning in a knowing way.
“Maybe,” he said.
“What do you mean by that?” Jerry questioned him.
“Sellin’ melons is a speculative business,” the old fellow shrugged. “You ain’t sure o’ anything until your harvest is sold and you get the money in your fist.”
Penny and Jerry watched the sorting work for a few minutes longer and then returned to the car.
“You know, for a minute I thought that old duffer was hinting at something,” the reporter remarked. “He acted as if it would give him real pleasure to see something happen to Mrs. Davis’ melons.”
“Oh, I didn’t take it that way,” Penny responded. “He was only waxing philosophical.”
The hour was late. Knowing that he might be wanted at the Star office, Jerry drove rather fast over the bumpy road.
As the press car sped around a bend, a man who stood leaning against a fence post, quickly retreated into the woods. His act, however, had drawn Penny’s attention.
“Stop the car, Jerry!” she cried. “There he is again!”
“Who?” demanded the reporter, slamming on brakes.
“I think it’s the same man who hid in the cornfield!”Penny exclaimed excitedly. “It must be Clem Davis!”
CHAPTER 10
IN THE MELON PATCH
“Which way did the fellow go?” Jerry demanded, bringing the car to a standstill.
“Into the woods,” Penny answered tersely.
Leaping from the automobile, they climbed a fence, and reached the edge of the woods. Pausing there, they listened intently. No sound could be heard, not even the crackling of a stick.
“This timber land extends for miles,” said Jerry. “We’d only waste time playing hide and seek in there. Our best bet is to notify Sheriff Daniels and let him throw a net around the entire section.”
“I guess you’re right,” Penny acknowledged regretfully.
Making all haste to Riverview, they stopped briefly at the sheriff’s office to make their report. Penny then said goodbye to Jerry and went to the newspaper building where she had parked Leaping Lena. The car would not start. Experienced in such matters, Penny raised the hood and posed beside it, a picture of a young lady in deep distress. Soon a taxi-cab cruised along.
“Having trouble, sister?” the driver asked.
Penny slammed down the hood, and scrambled into Leaping Lena.
“Just give me a little push,” she instructed briskly.
Obligingly, the taxi driver backed into position behind Leaping Lena. After the two cars had gathered speed, Penny shifted gears. Lena responded with an ailing cough and then a steady chug.
“Thanks!” Penny shouted, waving farewell to her benefactor. “I’ll return the favor someday.”
“Not with that mess of junk!” the taxi man laughed.
By keeping the motor running at high speed, Penny reached home without mishap. Her father had arrived ahead of her, she noted, for the maroon car had been put away for the night.
Locking the garage doors, Penny entered the house by way of the kitchen.
“Where’s Dad?” she asked the housekeeper, absently helping herself to a freshly baked cookie.
“Listen, and I think you can tell,” Mrs. Weems answered.
A loud hammering noise came from the basement. Inspired by an advertisement of Waldon’s Oak Paneling, Mr. Parker had decided to wall up the recreation room without the services of a carpenter. Much of his spare time was spent carrying on a personal
feud with boards which refused to fit into the right places.
“Poor Dad,” Penny grinned as she heard a particularly loud exclamation of wrath. “I’ll go down and drip a few consoling words.”
Descending the stairs, she stood watching her father from the doorway of the recreation room.
“Hello, Penny,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “You may as well make yourself useful. Hold this board while I nail it in place.”
“All right, but be careful where you pound. Remember, I have only two hands and I prize them both.”
With Penny holding the board, Mr. Parker nailed it to the underpinning.
“Well, what do you think of the job?” he asked, standing back to admire his work.
“As a carpenter you’re a very good editor,” Penny answered with exaggerated politeness. “Aren’t walls supposed to come together at the corners?”
“I made a little mistake in my calculations. Later on I may build a corner cupboard to cover up the slight gap.”
“Slight!” Penny chuckled. “Dad, if I were you I wouldn’t get tangled up in any more carpenter jobs. It’s too hard on your disposition.”
“I never was in a better mood in my life,” Mr. Parker insisted. “Good reason, too. At last I’ve got the best of Mr. Ben Bowman!”
“Bowman?” Penny inquired in a puzzled tone.
“That crank who keeps sending me collect messages.”
“Oh, to be sure! I’d forgotten about him.”
“He sent another telegram today,” Mr. Parker declared, smiling grimly. “I suspected it came from him and refused to pay for it.”
“Bravo,” Penny approved. “I knew you could get the best of that fellow if you just put your mind to it.”
On the floor above a telephone rang, but neither of them paid any heed, knowing that Mrs. Weems would answer. In a moment the housekeeper called down the stairway, telling Mr. Parker he was wanted on the’phone.
“It’s Mr. DeWitt from the office,” she informed him.
Putting aside his hammer, Mr. Parker went upstairs. Soon he returned to the basement, his manner noticeably subdued.
“What’s the matter, Dad?” Penny inquired curiously. “You look as if you had just received a stunning blow.”
The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels Page 59
