“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 s
tanding 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.
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