CHAPTER 14 A FAMILIAR FIGURE

Only for a moment did the girls dare remain at the door watching Sam Burkholder mount the tire. Then, their curiosity satisfied, they moved quietly away. Without speaking to Mattie Williams, they returned to the parked automobile.

“Well, wasn’t I right?” Louise demanded triumphantly. “What do you think we should do?”

The question plagued Penny. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “If only we were absolutely sure the tire was new—”

“It certainly looked new.”

“Yes, but it could have had some wear. It’s possible, too, that the customer had a legal right to buy a new tire.”

“Then you don’t intend to report to the police, Penny?”

“I want to talk to Salt about it first. We must move carefully, Lou. You see, my main objective is to learn the names of the higher-ups involved in the tire-theft racket.”

“And where does this garage fit into the picture?”

“If it fits at all, my guess is that Sam and Mattie are buying illegal tires—perhaps from the same men who stripped my car and threatened Dad.”

Driving slowly toward Riverview, Penny reviewed what she had seen. She was convinced the information was valuable, yet she scarcely knew how to use it.

“If Salt suggests that I report to the police, that’s what I’ll do,” she decided.

Enroute home, Penny stopped at another garage to make arrangements to have her stripped coupe hauled into the city.

“How about the Icicle?” Louise asked, thinking her chum had forgotten the iceboat.

“It will have to stay where it is for the time being,” Penny replied. “If it’s stolen, I won’t much care.”

At the Sidell home, the girls separated. Thanking Louise for the use of the car, Penny returned afoot to the Star office. Salt Sommers was absent on assignment, so she did not linger long. As she rounded a street corner on her way home, a newsboy for a rival paper blocked her path.

“Read all about it!” he shouted. “Anthony Parker Believed Kidnaped! Paper, Miss?”

Penny dropped a coin into the lad’s hand and hastily scanned the front page. The story of her father’s disappearance was a highly colored account, but contained not a useful item of information. Tossing the sheet into a street paper-container, she moved on.

She was passing the Gillman Department Store when her attention was drawn to a woman who waited for a bus.

“I’ve seen her somewhere before,” thought Penny, pausing. “Last night—”

The woman wore a small black hat and a long, old-fashioned dark coat which came nearly to her ankles. It was the shape of the garment and its unusual length which struck Penny as familiar. Why, the woman resembled the one who had fled from the cemetery!

Penny pretended to gaze into the store window. Actually she studied the woman from every angle. She might have been forty-seven years of age and was large-boned. Her face was heavily lined, and her long hands were covered by a pair of cheap, black cotton gloves.

“Can it be the same woman?” thought Penny in perplexity.

A bus bearing a county placard glided up to the curb. The woman in black was the only passenger to board it.

“That bus goes out toward Baldiff Road and the cemetery!” Penny told herself. “And that’s where I’m going too!”

An instant before the folding doors slammed shut, she sprang aboard. Paying her fare, she sought a seat at the rear of the bus.

No sooner was the coach in motion than Penny regretted her hasty action. What could she hope to gain by pursuing the strange woman? She was not certain enough of her identification to make a direct accusation. County buses ran infrequently. In all likelihood, she would find herself stranded in the country.

Penny arose to leave the bus. Then changing her mind a second time, she sat down. Try as she would, she could not rid herself of a conviction that the woman she followed was the same one who had visited the cemetery.

The bus made few stops in the city. Once beyond the city limits, it sped along at a brisk speed. To Penny’s satisfaction, the woman in black soon began to gather up her packages. She pressed a button and the bus skidded to a stop at a crossroads.

With no show of haste, Penny followed the woman from the bus. Pretending to enter a grocery store at the corner, she waited and watched.

Apparently the woman lived nearby, for she started off down a narrow, winding road which ran at right angles to the main highway.

“Why that’s the road that runs past the Harrison place,” Penny thought. “Wonder if she can be going there?”

Waiting until the woman was nearly out of sight, she trudged after her. Walking was difficult for the road had not been cleared by a snow plow. Fortunately for Penny, the woman did not once glance behind her. She kept steadily on until she came within view of the big estate house on the hill. Just before she reached the boundary fence, she cut across a field, approaching the dwelling from the rear.

Penny remained at the road, watching. The woman took a key from her pocket, unlocking a small, padlocked gate at the rear of the grounds. She snapped the lock shut again, and disappeared into the house.

Penny perched herself on top of an old-fashioned rail fence to think over what she had seen. The woman, whoever she was, obviously lived at the estate. Yet the cheap quality of her clothing suggested that she could not be the owner of such an expensive establishment.

“Probably a servant or caretaker,” Penny reasoned. “But is she the one who ran away last night?”

Far over the hills in a lonely grove of pines stood Oakland Cemetery. On either side of Baldiff Road stretched dense woods, a growth that crept to the very boundaries of the Harrison estate. Penny instantly noted that it would be possible for a person to flee from the cemetery to the very door of the estate without once leaving the shelter of trees.

“Perhaps it was the same woman!” she thought. “If she lives here, it would be logical for her to specify Oakland Cemetery as a meeting place! And escape would be easy for her, too!”

Penny slid down from the fence. It would do no good to question the woman. Rather, if she were guilty, questions might serve to place her on the alert. Far better, she reasoned, to bide her time.

“I’ll learn everything I can about that woman,” she thought. “Tonight I’ll watch the house.”

In making her plans, Penny did not take into account Mrs. Weems’ attitude. Upon reaching home late in the afternoon, she found the housekeeper in a most discouraged mood. No favorable news had been received from any source.

“I’ve been worried about you too, Penny,” Mrs. Weems confessed. “Where did you go after you left the Star office?”

Penny told of her trip to Mattie Williams’ garage and later to the Harrison estate. In particular she described the mysterious woman she had followed by bus.

“I plan to go back there tonight,” she concluded. “For the first time since Dad disappeared, I feel I may have stumbled into a valuable clue!”

Mrs. Weems looked troubled. “But Penny,” she protested, “you can’t go to the estate alone!”

“I thought perhaps Louise would accompany me.”

“Two girls alone at night! I can’t give my consent, Penny. It’s not safe.”

“But I don’t wish to call the police just yet, Mrs. Weems. I’ve no real evidence. Will you come with me?”

The housekeeper hesitated. Naturally a timid woman, she had no desire to stir from her own fireside that night. But she knew where her duty lay.

“Yes, I’ll go with you, Penny,” she consented. “Shall we start soon?”

“Not until after dark. One can’t expect a ghost to show up in broad daylight.”

“A ghost!” Mrs. Weems quavered. “Penny, what are you letting me in for?”

“Frankly, I don’t know. Some strange things have been going on at the Harrison estate. Tonight I hope to solve part of the mystery at least.”

Pressed for an explanation, Penny repeated Mose Johnson’s story and told of seeing the strange white-robed figure with her own eyes. The tale did not add to Mrs. Weems’ comfort of mind.

“We’re crazy to go out there,” the housekeeper protested. “Must we do it?”

“I think it may be our one hope of gaining a clue which will lead to Dad.”

“Then I’m willing to risk it,” agreed Mrs. Weems. “However, we’ll drive out in a taxi. And I shall personally select the driver—a man to be depended on in an emergency.”

So excited was the housekeeper that she had difficulty in preparing the evening meal. In the end Penny took over, shooing her out of the kitchen.

“I declare I don’t know why I am so nervous,” Mrs. Weems shivered. “I haven’t felt so shaky since the time I attended a seance at Osandra’s.”

“You saw ghosts a-plenty on that occasion,” smiled Penny. “I only hope we have as much luck tonight.”

By eight o’clock everything was in readiness for the journey into the country. Dressing warmly and carrying an extra blanket, Penny and Mrs. Weems walked to a nearby cab station. There the housekeeper selected a driver, a burly man who looked as if he might have been an ex-prizefighter.

“Sure, Ma’am,” he said as Mrs. Weems questioned him, “you can depend on me to look after you.”

“How are you at capturing ghosts?” inquired Penny, climbing into the cab.

The driver looked a trifle startled. “Swell!” he rejoined. “Bring on your spook, and if he don’t weigh no more than two hundred pounds, I’ll nail him!”

Penny and Mrs. Weems were satisfied that they were in good hands. They instructed the man, Joe Henkell, to drive directly to the old Harrison estate.

“By the way, do you know who owns the property?” Penny asked as the cab rolled toward the country.

“Fellow from the East,” Joe flung over his shoulder. “I’m not sure. Think his name is Deming—George Allan Deming. Wealthy sportsman. Has his own plane an’ everything.”

“Married?”

“Couldn’t tell you. The estate has been closed up this winter.”

The cab soon approached the familiar grounds. Penny directed the driver to pull up some distance from the dark house.

“Switch off the headlights,” she instructed. “We’ll wait here. It may be a long time too, so make yourself comfortable.”

Joe, taking Penny at her word, began to smoke a vile-smelling cigar which nearly drove Mrs. Weems to distraction. After an hour had elapsed, the housekeeper scarcely could endure the stuffy air of the cab.

“Penny, must we wait any longer?” she asked plaintively.

“Why, it’s early, Mrs. Weems. I expect to stay until midnight at least.”

“Midnight!” The housekeeper quietly collapsed.

Just then the cab driver turned around, touching Penny’s arm. He directed her attention to the house by saying briefly: “A light just went on.”

Penny and Mrs. Weems focused their attention on the upper floor of the estate. A single light could be seen burning there, but as they watched it blinked off.

“Now if a ghost is to appear this is the time!” announced Penny. “Why don’t we get closer?”

She sprang from the cab. Mrs. Weems and the taxi driver followed with less enthusiasm. The housekeeper, quivering and shaking, clutched the man’s arm as she struggled against the wind.

“Joe, you stay right beside me!” she ordered.

“Sure, Ma’am,” he said soothingly. “I couldn’t get away if I had a mind to.”

Penny, a step ahead, held up her hand as a warning for silence. She had seen the familiar white figure rounding a corner of the house.

“There’s the ghost!” she whispered. “See! Beyond the gate!”

Joe whistled softly.

“A spook, sure’s I’m alive!” he muttered.

“And you promised to nail him,” reminded Penny, starting forward along the fence. “We’ll creep a little closer. Then Joe, I shall expect you to do your stuff!”