The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels

by Mildred Benson

  “Why not?” asked Penny.

  “We’ve had a lot o’ rain lately. The mosquitoes are bitin’ something fierce. And the ground’s mighty damp.”

  “We have a floor to our tent,” Penny said optimistically. “I think camping will be fun. I’ve always wanted to try it.”

  The farmer started the tractor. “Then don’t let me discourage you,” he shrugged. “So long.”

  Mr. Parker rejoined Penny in the car. “Why not call this whole thing off?” he suggested. “We could go to the hotel and—”

  “No, Dad! You promised me!”

  “All right, Penny, if that’s the way you feel, but I know we’re asking for punishment.”

  By careful driving the Parkers reached the gravel road without mishap. At the entrance to the Rhett Park area they were stopped by a pleasant, middle-aged forest ranger who took down the license number of the car.

  “Be careful about your camp fire,” he instructed. “Only last week several acres of timber were destroyed at Alton. We’re not certain whether it was started by a camper or was a case of sabotage. In any case, one can’t be too careful.”

  “We will be,” promised Mr. Parker.

  “Camp only in the designated sites,” the ranger added. “I’ll be around later on to see how you’re getting along.”

  Once beyond the gateway arch, Penny’s sagging spirits began to revive. The road curled lazily between dense masses of timber fringed by artistic old-fashioned rail fences. Numerous signs pointed to trails that invited exploration.

  “Oh, Dad, it’s really nice here!” she cried. “We’ll have a wonderful time!”

  Presently the car came to an open space with picnic tables. There was a picturesque spot beside a rocky brook which looked just right for a camp site.

  “Let’s pitch our tent here!” pleaded Penny. “You set it up while I cook supper.”

  Mr. Parker unloaded the car and went to work with a will hammering the metal stakes of the umbrella tent. Penny busied herself sorting pots and pans and trying to get the gasoline stove started. Despite her best efforts she could not induce it to burn.

  In the meantime, Mr. Parker was having his own set of troubles. Three of the tent stakes were missing. Twice he put up the umbrella framework, only to have the entire structure collapse upon his head.

  “Penny, come here and help me!” he called. “I’ve had about enough of this!”

  Penny ran to her father’s rescue, pulling the canvas from his head and shoulders. By working together they finally got the tent set up. Another half hour was required to put up the cots and make them.

  “Well, that job is done,” Mr. Parker sighed, collapsing on one of the beds. “Such a life!”

  “Dad, I hate to bother you,” Penny apologized,“but I can’t start the stove. Do you mind looking at it?”

  Grumbling a bit, Mr. Parker went to tinker with the stove. Three-quarters of an hour slipped away before he succeeded in coaxing a bright flame.

  “All this work has given me a big appetite for supper,” he announced. “What are we having, Penny?”

  “Steaks.”

  “Sounds fine.”

  “I forgot the salt though,” Penny confessed, slapping the meat into a frying pan.

  The burner was too hot. While Penny had her back turned and was opening a can of beans, the steaks began to scorch. Mr. Parker tried to rescue them. In his haste he seized the hot skillet handle and burned his hands.

  “Oh, Dad, I’m so sorry!” Penny sympathized. “I guess the steaks are practically ruined too.”

  “Anything else to eat?” the publisher asked, nursing his blistered hand.

  “Beans.”

  “Beans!” Mr. Parker repeated with bitter emphasis. “Oh, well—dish them up.”

  Penny was serving the food on tin plates when a car drove up and stopped. A ranger climbed out and walked over to the tent.

  “What’s the idea, camping here?” he demanded. “Can’t you read signs?”

  “We didn’t see any sign,” said Penny.

  The ranger pointed to one in plain sight tacked on the trunk of a tree. It read:

  “Restricted Area. No Camping Permitted.”

  “You can’t stay here,” the ranger added. “You’ll have to move on.”

  Penny and her father gazed at each other in despair. After all the work they had done, it didn’t seem as though they could break camp.

  “Any objections if we stay here until morning?”Mr. Parker requested. “We’ve had a pretty hard time of it getting established.”

  The ranger looked sympathetic but unmoved.

  “Sorry,” he said curtly. “Regulations are regulations. You may finish your supper if you like, then you must move on. The regular camp site is a quarter of a mile farther up the road.”

  CHAPTER 5

  OVER THE AIR

  The ranger’s order so discouraged Penny and her father that they lost all zest for supper. Too weary for conversation, they tore up the beds, repacked the dishes, and pulled the tent stakes.

  “I’ve not worked so hard in years,” Mr. Parker sighed. “What a mistake to call this a vacation!”

  “Perhaps it won’t be so hard once we get settled,”Penny said hopefully. “After all, we’ve had more than our share of bad luck.”

  Bad luck, however, continued to follow the campers. In the gathering darkness, Penny and her father had trouble finding the specified camp ground. It was impossible to drive a car into the cleared space, so they were forced to carry all of the heavy luggage and equipment from the automobile to the camp site.

  By that time it was quite dark. Mr. Parker misplaced one of the tent stakes and could not find it without a lengthy search. As he finally drove it in, he hammered his thumb instead of the metal pin.

  “Drat it all! I’ve had enough of this!” he muttered irritably. “Penny, why not give it up—”

  “Oh, no, Dad!” Penny cut in quickly. “Once we get the tent up again, we’ll be all right. Here, I’ll hold the flashlight so you can see better.”

  Finally the tent was successfully staked down, though Mr. Parker temporarily abandoned the idea of putting up the front porch. Penny set up the cots again and made the beds.

  “Hope you packed plenty of woolen blankets,”Mr. Parker commented, shivering. “It will be cold tonight.”

  Penny admitted that she had brought only two thin ones for each bed. “I didn’t suppose it could get so cold on a summer night,” she confessed ruefully.

  Worn by his strenuous labors, Mr. Parker climbed into the closed car to smoke a cigar. Penny, finding the dark tent lonesome, soon joined him there. She switched on the car radio, tuning in an orchestra. Presently it went off the air so she dialed another station. A strange jargon of words which could not be understood, accosted her ears.

  “Hold that, Penny!” exclaimed Mr. Parker.

  “What station can it be?” Penny speculated, peering at the luminous dial. “It sounds like a short wave broadcast. Must be a station off its wave band.”

  She and her father listened intently to the speaker who had a resonant, baritone voice. Not a word of the broadcast could they understand. Obviously a message was being sent in code.

  “Dad, that sounds like the same station I heard yesterday!”Penny broke in. “Where can it be located?”

  “I’d like to know myself.”

  Penny glanced quickly at her father. His remark, she thought, had definite significance. Before she could question him, the strange jargon ceased. The deep baritone voice concluded in plain, slightly accented English: “This is the Voice from the Cave, signing off until tomorrow night. Stand by, Comrades!”

  “That was no regular station,” Penny declared, puzzled. “But what was it?”

  Mr. Parker reached over to turn off the panel switch. “It was an outlaw station,” he said quietly. “The authorities have been after it for weeks.”

  “How did you learn about it?”

  “Through various channels. Most ou
tlaw radio stations can be traced quite easily by the use of modern radio-detecting devices. The enemy agent who operates this station is a particularly elusive fellow. Just when the police are sure they have him, he moves to another locality.”

  Penny was silent a moment and then she said:

  “You seem to know quite a bit about this mysterious Voice, Dad.”

  “Naturally I’ve been interested in the case. If the police catch the fellow it will make a good story for the Star.”

  “Where is the station thought to be located, Dad?”

  “Oh, it moves nightly. The fellow obviously has a portable broadcasting outfit.”

  “But isn’t the general locality known?”

  Mr. Parker smiled as he knocked ashes from his cigar.

  “Authorities seem to think that it may be somewhere near here. Sunset Beach has countless caves, you know.”

  “Really?” The information excited Penny. “You never told me that before, Dad. And I suspect that you’re keeping a lot of other secrets from me too!”

  “Sunset Beach’s caves are no secret. They’re part of the tourist attraction.”

  “All the same you never mentioned them, Dad. I thought it was odd that you chose this place for a vacation. Now I’m beginning to catch on.”

  Mr. Parker pretended not to understand.

  “Isn’t it true that you came here to do a bit of investigation work?” Penny pursued the subject relentlessly.

  “Now don’t try to pin me down,” Mr. Parker laughed. “Suppose we just say we came here for a vacation.”

  Penny eyed her father quizzically. From the way he sidestepped her questions she was certain that he had more than a casual interest in the outlaw radio station.

  “Dad, will you let me help you?” she pleaded eagerly.

  “Help me?” Mr. Parker joked. “Why, you seem to think that I’m a Government investigator in disguise!”

  “You don’t deny that you came here largely because of your interest in that station?”

  “Well, I may be a tiny bit interested. But don’t jump to conclusions, young lady! It doesn’t necessarily follow that I have set out to track down any enemy agent single handed.” Mr. Parker brought the discussion to an end by opening the car door. “I’m dead tired, Penny. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll turn in.”

  After her father had gone to the tent, Penny remained for a while in the car. Soberly she stared at the stars and thought over what she had learned.

  “I don’t care what Dad says,” she reflected, “he came here to find that radio station! But maybe, just maybe, I’ll beat him to it!”

  CHAPTER 6

  BREAKFAST BLUES

  Penny awoke next morning to find the tent cold and damp. She rolled over on the hard cot and moaned with pain. Every muscle in her battered body felt as if it had been twisted into a knot.

  Swinging her feet to the canvas floor, she pulled away the curtain to peer at her father’s cot. It was empty.

  “Guess I’ve overslept,” she thought. “Hope Dad’s started breakfast.”

  Penny dressed quickly, cringing as she pulled on damp shirt and shorts. Dew lay heavy upon the tent and the grass outside was saturated. She walked gingerly as she picked her way toward the parked car.

  Mr. Parker had set up a portable table nearby and was tinkering with the gasoline stove. He was unshaven and looked very much out of sorts.

  “Hi, Dad!” Penny greeted him with as much cheer as she could muster. “What are we having for breakfast?”

  “Nothing, so far as I can see! This stove is on strike again. I’ve tried for half an hour to get it started.”

  Penny climbed into the car to use the mirror. The sight of her face horrified her. One cheek was blotched with ugly red mosquito bites, there were dark circles under her eyes, and her hair hung in strings.

  “If anyone ever gets me on another camping trip I’ll be surprised!” Mr. Parker exclaimed. He slammed the stove down on the table. “I’m through monkeying with this contrary beast!”

  “Oh, Dad, such a temper,” Penny chided, giggling despite her own discouragement.

  “Suppose you suggest how we’re to eat.”

  “Well, there’s cold breakfast food with canned milk.” Penny burrowed deep in a box of supplies stored in the car. “Two soft bananas. No coffee, I’m afraid.”

  “Wonderful!” Mr. Parker said grimly. “Well, bring on the bird food.”

  Penny set the table and dished up the dry breakfast cereal.

  “At least we have beautiful scenery,” she remarked as she sat down to the dismal repast with her father. “Just look at those grand old trees.”

  “The place is all right. It’s camping that has me tied in a knot. Now at the Crystal Inn we could be comfortable—right on the beach too.”

  “No,” Penny said, though not very firmly. “We’ll like it here after we get adjusted.”

  “Need any supplies today?” Mr. Parker asked abruptly.

  “Yes, we’ll have to have fresh meat and milk. I forgot salt too and bread.”

  “I’ll drive down to Sunset Beach and get the things. May as well take the stove along too and try to have it repaired.”

  “That might be a good idea,” Penny admitted, though with reluctance. “Don’t be gone long, will you? I thought we might explore some of the trails.”

  “Oh, there’s plenty of time for that.”

  Mr. Parker was noticeably cheerful as he stowed the portable stove in the car and drove away. Not without misgiving Penny watched him go. She remained somewhat troubled as she washed the breakfast dishes at the brook and struggled with the beds. The camping trip hadn’t worked out as she had hoped and expected. So far it had been all work and no fun.

  “Dad was up to something when he skipped out of here so fast,” she mused. “Wonder why he doesn’t come back?”

  The sun rose high above the trees, drying the grass and tent. Penny went for a short hike in the woods. She returned to find that her father still had not returned.

  Just then a car rattled up the twisting road. Recognizing the same ranger who had caused so much trouble the previous night, Penny prepared herself for further blows. However, the government man was all smiles as he pulled up not far from the umbrella tent.

  “Just dropped by to see if you’re getting along all right,” he greeted her in a friendly way. “Everything Okay?”

  “I wouldn’t venture such a rash statement as that,”Penny answered, her face downcast.

  Because the ranger, whose name was Bill Atkins, seemed to have a genuine interest, she found herself telling him all about her troubles.

  “Why, you’ve not had a decent meal since you came here!” he exclaimed, climbing out of the car. “Maybe I can help you.”

  “Can you wave a magic wand and produce hot food?”

  “We’ll see,” laughed the ranger. “Gasoline stoves are more bother than they’re worth in my opinion.”

  As Penny watched in amazed admiration he built a good fire which soon made a bed of glowing cherry red coals.

  “How about a nice pan of fish fried to a crisp brown?” the ranger tempted her. “I caught a string of them this morning. Beauties!”

  From the car he brought a basket of fat trout, already dressed and ready for cooking. Without asking Penny for anything, he wrapped them in corn meal, salted each fish and let it sizzle in hot butter.

  “Do you always travel with your car equipped like a kitchen cabinet?” Penny joked. Crouching beside the fire, she barely could take her eyes from the food.

  “Not always,” the ranger laughed. “I’ve been on an overnight trip. Usually have the fixings of a meal with me though.”

  While the fish slowly sizzled, Bill put on a pot of coffee and fried potatoes. He accomplished everything with such ease that Penny could only watch dumbfounded.

  “Guess you and your father considered me an old crab last night,” he remarked. “Sometimes we hate to enforce the rules, but we have to treat everyone alike.
If we allowed folks to camp wherever they pleased the danger of forest fire would be greatly increased.”

  “You’re right, of course. Have you had any fires this season?”

  “Not here.” Deftly the ranger dished up the potatoes and crisply browned fish. “Plenty of them farther South. Not all caused by carelessness of campers either.”

  Penny was quick to seize upon the remark. “Sabotage?” she questioned.

  “That’s what we think,” the ranger nodded. He poured two cups of steaming, black coffee. “Fact is, enemy agents have made quite a few attempts to set fire to our forests. Nearly always they’re caught, but that doesn’t mean we dare let up our vigilance.”

  Penny ate every morsel of the food, praising the ranger highly for his cooking ability.

  “I wish Dad could have had some of this fish,” she added. “He went down to Sunset Beach for supplies and for some reason hasn’t returned.”

  “I’ll have to be on the road myself,” the ranger declared, getting up from the ground. “I’m due in town at twelve o’clock and it’s nearly that now.”

  “You’re driving to Sunset Beach?”

  “Yes, want to ride along?”

  Penny debated briefly. “Wait until I get my coat,” she requested. “It’s lonesome here alone. Anyway, I want to learn what’s keeping Dad.”

  The park road had dried considerably, but even so the car skidded from side to side until it reached the paved highway. At Sunset Beach, the ranger dropped Penny off at the postoffice. Rather at a loss to know what to do with herself, she wandered about the half-deserted streets in search of her father. He was not at any of the stores, nor did inquiry reveal his whereabouts.

  “Perhaps he’s sunning himself on the beach,” she thought.

  A boardwalk led over the dunes to the water front. The tide was at ebb, revealing a long, wide stretch of white sand strewn with shells and seaweed. Penny paused to gaze meditatively upon the wind-swept sea. For a time she watched the waves break and spill their foam on the sandy shore. Then she walked slowly on toward the imposing Crystal Inn.

  Approaching the private beach area, Penny met only a few persons, mostly soldiers on furlough with their girls. There were no bathers for a sharp, cool wind blew off the water.