The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels

by Mildred Benson

  “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,” theyheard 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.

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p; “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 nothi
ng 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.”