CHAPTER 11 A NEWSPAPER MYSTERY

Penny stared at Francine, for a moment not believing that she had meant the remark seriously. As she comprehended that the girl indeed was serious, she exclaimed in quick protest:

“Oh, Francine, what an attitude to take! Sara is my guest. I’m sure Mrs. Downey doesn’t mind.”

“I’ll go,” offered Sara in a quiet voice. “I never dreamed I would offend anyone by being here.”

“I’m not particularly offended,” replied Francine defensively. “It merely seems reasonable to me that if you won’t allow others on your property you shouldn’t trespass yourself.”

“Sara had nothing to do with that sign on her grandfather’s land,” declared Penny. “Francine, you must have jumped out of the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

Sara had turned to walk away. Penny caught her hand, trying to detain her.

“Wait, I’ll run into the lodge and ask Mrs. Downey. But I know very well it will be all right for you to stay.”

Sara hesitated, and might have consented, save at that instant the three girls heard the faint tinkle of bells. A sled loaded with wood came into view around a curve of the mountain road.

“That’s grandfather on his way home!” exclaimed Sara. “I must get back there before he learns I’ve been away! Hurry, Penny!”

With several quick thrusts of her sticks, she started down the trail which led to the Jasko cabin. Penny followed, but she could not overtake her companion. Sara skied with a reckless skill which defied imitation. While Penny was forced to stem, she took the rough track with no perceptible slackening of speed, and had divested herself of skis by the time her companion reached the woods.

“We’ll have to work fast,” she warned, hiding the long runners in the hollow log. “I want you to lock me in the cabin and then get away before Grandfather sees you!”

“What about our tracks in the snow?”

“I’ll blame them all on you,” laughed Sara, “It’s beginning to get dark now. And Grandfather is near sighted.”

“I don’t like this business at all,” complained Penny as they kept close to the fence on their way to the cabin. “Why not tell your grandfather—”

“He would rage for days and never let me out again. No, this is the best way. And you’ll come back soon, won’t you, Penny?”

“I don’t like to promise.”

“I’ll teach you how to jump.” Sara offered attractive bait.

“We’ll see. I’ll think it over.”

“No, promise!” persisted Sara. “Say you’ll come back and at least talk to me through the window. You have no idea how lonesome I get.”

“All right,” Penny suddenly gave in. “I’ll do that much.”

Reaching the cabin, Sara had Penny tramp about in the snow with her skis so as to give the impression that a visitor had walked several times around the building but had not entered.

“You’ll have to lock me in the loft,” she instructed. “Then take the key back to the woodshed and get away as quickly as you can.”

Sara pulled off her garments and hung them in the closet. With a mop she wiped up tracks which had been made on the bare floor. Then she climbed up the ladder to her room.

Penny turned the wooden peg, and retreating from the cabin, locked the door.

“Don’t forget!” Sara called to her from the window. “Come again soon—tomorrow if you can.”

Hiding the key in the woodshed, Penny tramped about the outside of the building several times before gliding off toward the boundary fence. As she began a tedious climb up the trail toward the Downey lodge, she saw the sled appear around a bend of the road.

Penny did not visit the Jasko cabin the following day nor the next. Along with other guests she was kept indoors by a raging snow and sleet storm which blocked the road and disrupted telephone service to the village.

Everyone at the Downey lodge suffered from the confinement, but some accepted the situation more philosophically than others. As usual Mr. Glasser complained because there were no daily papers. Penny overheard him telling another guest he was thinking very seriously of moving to the Fergus hotel where at least a certain amount of entertainment was provided.

“He’ll leave,” Mrs. Downey observed resignedly when the conversation was repeated to her. “I’ve seen it coming for days. Mr. Glasser has been talking with one of the runners for the Fergus hotel.”

“It’s unfair of them to try to take your guests away.”

“Oh, they’re determined to put me out of business at any cost. Miss Sellberg is leaving, too. She served notice this morning.”

Penny glanced up with quick interest. “Francine? Is she leaving Pine Top?”

“No, she told me she had decided to move to the Fergus hotel because of its better location.”

Penny nodded thoughtfully. She could understand that if Francine were trying to gain special information about either Ralph Fergus or Harvey Maxwell, it would be to her advantage to have a room at the other hotel. Had it not been for her loyalty to Mrs. Downey, she, too, would have been tempted to take up headquarters there.

“I can’t really blame folks for leaving,” Mrs. Downey continued after a moment. “I’ve not offered very much entertainment this year. Last season in addition to skiing we had the bob-sled run.”

“I met Sara Jasko and she was telling me about it,” replied Penny. “Can’t you use the run again this year?”

“We could, but it scarcely seems worth the trouble and expense. Also, it takes experienced drivers to steer the sleds. The young man I had working for me last winter isn’t available at present.”

“Is there no other person at Pine Top who could do it?”

“Sara Jasko,” responded Mrs. Downey, smiling. “However, it’s not likely her grandfather would give his consent.”

The following day dawned bright and clear and brought a revival of spirit at the Downey lodge. Nevertheless, with the roads open once more, both Francine and Mr. Glasser moved their belongings down to the Fergus hotel. As was to be expected, their departure caused a certain amount of comment by the other guests.

Late in the afternoon Penny offered to ski down to Pine Top for the newspapers. She planned to stop at the Fergus hotel upon her return, hoping to learn a little more about the mysterious Green Room which had intrigued her interest.

Reaching the village, Penny located Benny Smith, but the lad shook his head when she inquired for the daily papers.

“I don’t have any today.”

“But the plane came through! I saw it myself about an hour ago. This makes four days since we’ve had a newspaper at the lodge. What happened?”

The boy glared at Penny almost defiantly. “You can’t blame me. It’s not my fault if they’re not put on the plane.”

“No, of course not. I didn’t mean to suggest that you were at fault. It’s just queer that we miss our papers so often. And we never seem to get the back editions either.”

“Well, I don’t know anything about it,” the boy muttered.

Penny stood watching him slouch off down the street. Something about the lad’s manner made her wonder if he had not lied. She suddenly was convinced that Benny knew more about the missing newspapers than he cared to tell.

“But how would he profit by not receiving them?” she mused. “He would lose sales. It simply doesn’t make sense.”

As she trudged on down the street Penny turned the problem over in her mind. She walked with head bent low and did not notice an approaching pedestrian until she had bumped into him.

“Sorry,” apologized the man politely.

“It was my fault,” replied Penny. She glanced up to see that the stranger was no stranger at all, but the airplane pilot who had brought her to Pine Top several days before.

He would have passed on had she not halted him with a question.

“I wonder if you could tell me what seems to be the trouble with the newspaper delivery service here at Pine Top?”

“We couldn’t get through yesterday on account of the weather,” he returned.

“But what happened to the papers today?”

“Nothing.”

“You mean they came through?” Penny asked in surprise.

“That’s right. You can get them from Benny Smith.”

“From Benny? But he said—”

Penny started to reveal that the boy had blamed the failure of service upon the pilot, and then changed her mind.

“Thank you,” she returned, “I’ll talk with him.”

Penny was more puzzled than ever, but she had no reason to doubt the pilot’s word. Obviously, the newspapers had arrived at Pine Top, and Benny Smith knew what had become of them.

“I’ll just investigate this matter a little further,” Penny decided as she left the village.

Approaching the Fergus hotel a few minutes later, she paused to catch her breath before going inside. In the gathering twilight the building looked more than ever like a great Swiss chalet. The pitched roof was burdened with a thick layer of white snow, and long icicles hung from the window ledges.

Inside the crowded, smoke-filled lobby there was an air of gaiety. A few lights had been turned on, and the orchestra could be heard tuning up in the dining room.

Penny saw no one that she knew. Crossing quickly to a counter at the far side of the lobby, she spoke to a girl who was in charge.

“Can I buy a newspaper here?”

“Yes, we have them.” The girl reached around a corner of the counter, indicating a stack of papers which Penny had not seen. “New York Times?”

“That will do very nicely.”

Penny paid for the paper and carrying it over to a chair, quickly looked at the dateline.

“It’s today’s issue, all right,” she told herself grimly. “This proves what I suspected. Ralph Fergus has been buying up all the papers—a little trick to annoy Mrs. Downey and get her in bad with her guests!”