CHAPTER 20 VISITORS

“May we see you alone, Mr. Jasko?” requested Ralph Fergus.

“I don’t reckon there’s any need for being so all-fired private,” the old man retorted, his hand on the doorknob. “If you want to talk with me speak your piece right out. I got to hitch up the team.”

Mr. Fergus and his companion, Harvey Maxwell, glanced coldly toward Penny who had sunk down into a chair and was massaging her ankle. They were reluctant to reveal their business before her but there was no other way.

“We can’t talk with you very well while you’re poised for flight, Mr. Jasko,” Ralph Fergus said placatingly. “My friend, Maxwell, has prepared a paper which he would like to have you look over.”

“I’m not signin’ anything!”

“Good for you, Grandfather!” muttered Sara under her breath.

The two men pretended not to hear. Mr. Maxwell took a folded document from his pocket and spread it out on the kitchen table.

“Will you just read this, please, Mr. Jasko? You’ll find our terms are more than generous.”

“I ain’t interested in your terms,” he snapped. “I’m aimin’ to keep every acre of my land.”

“We’re not asking you to sell, only to lease,” Mr. Fergus interposed smoothly. “Now we understand that your deal with Mrs. Downey has fallen through, so there’s no reason why you shouldn’t lease the ski slopes to us. We are prepared to offer you twice the amount she proposed to give you.”

Mr. Jasko stubbornly shook his head.

“You’re taking a very short-sighted attitude,” said Ralph Fergus, beginning to lose patience. “At least read the paper.”

“No.”

“Think what this would mean to your granddaughter,” interposed Harvey Maxwell. “Pretty clothes, school in the city perhaps—”

“Don’t listen to them, Grandfather,” spoke Sara quickly. “I have enough clothes. And Pine Top school suits me.”

“You’re wastin’ your time and mine,” said Peter Jasko. “I ain’t leasing my land to anybody.”

“We’re only asking you to sign a three-year lease—” Mr. Fergus argued.

“Can’t you understand plain language?” the old man cried. “You think money will buy everything, but you got another guess coming. I’ve seen enough skiing at Pine Top and I aim to put a stop to it!”

“It’s no use,” said Harvey Maxwell resignedly to his companion.

Ralph Fergus picked up the paper and thrust it into his overcoat pocket. “You’re an old fool, Jasko!” he muttered.

“Don’t you dare speak that way to my grandfather!” Sara cried, her eyes stormy. “You had your nerve coming here anyway, after that trick you tried!”

“Trick?”

“You deliberately weakened the brake rod of our bob-sled.”

Ralph Fergus laughed in the girl’s face. “You’re as touched as your grandfather,” he said.

“Perhaps you can explain what became of the top button of your overcoat,” suggested Penny coming to Sara’s support. “And don’t try to tell us it’s home in your sewing basket!”

Ralph Fergus’ hand groped at the vacant spot on his coat.

“What does a button have to do with the bob-sled accident?” inquired Harvey Maxwell.

“It happens that we found a large brown button in the tool house at the Downey lodge,” replied Penny. “Also a little additional evidence which rather suggests Mr. Fergus is the one who tampered with the bob-sled.”

“Ridiculous!” protested the hotel man. “I’ve not even been near Mrs. Downey’s lodge in weeks.”

“I know that’s a lie,” said Peter Jasko. “I saw you goin’ up that way Friday night.”

“And you went there to damage the bob-sled!” Sara accused. “You didn’t care how many persons might be injured in an accident!”

Ralph Fergus’ face was an angry red. “What reason would I have for doing anything like that?” he demanded.

“Guests were being drawn from your hotel because bob-sledding was increasing in popularity,” said Penny quietly. “Nothing would please you more than to put Mrs. Downey out of business.”

“Aren’t you drawing rather sweeping conclusions?” inquired Harvey Maxwell in an insolent tone. “A button isn’t very certain evidence. So many persons wear buttons, you know.”

“I lost this one from my coat weeks ago,” added Ralph Fergus.

“It was your button we found,” Sara accused.

Peter Jasko had been listening intently to the argument, taking little part in it. But now, with a quick movement which belied his age, he moved across the kitchen toward the gun rack on the wall.

“Let’s be getting out of here,” muttered Harvey Maxwell.

He and Ralph Fergus both bolted out of the door. Their sudden flight delighted Sara who broke into a fit of laughter.

“Why don’t you shoot once or twice into the air just to give ’em a good fright?” she asked her grandfather.

The old man, shotgun in hand, had followed the two men to the door. But he did not shoot.

“Grandfather wouldn’t hurt a flea really,” chuckled Sara. “At least, not unless it was trying to make him sign something.”

“Ralph Fergus acted guilty, all right,” declared Penny, bending down to massage her injured ankle. “But it may have been a mistake for us to accuse him.”

“I couldn’t help it,” answered Sara. “When I saw that button missing from his coat, I had to say something about it.”

Peter Jasko put away his shotgun, turning once more to the door. “I’ll hitch up the team,” he said. “Sara, get some liniment and see what you can do for Miss Parker’s ankle.”

“Your ankle?” gasped Sara, staring at Penny. “Have you hurt yourself again?”

“I managed to fall into the ravine a few minutes ago. Your grandfather saved me.”

Sara darted to the stove to get a pan of warm water. She stripped off Penny’s woolen stockings and examined the foot as she soaked it.

“I suppose this will put me on the shelf for another day or so,” Penny observed gloomily. “But I’m lucky I didn’t break my neck.”

“The ankle is swollen,” Sara said, “I’ll wrap it with a bandage and that may make it feel better.”

With a practiced hand she wound strips of gauze and adhesive tape about the ankle.

“There, how does it feel now?”

“Much better,” said Penny. “Thanks a lot. I—I feel rather mean to put your grandfather to so much trouble, especially after the way I’ve crossed him.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about Grandfather,” laughed Sara. “He likes you, Penny.”

“He likes me?”

“I could tell by the way he acted tonight. He respects a person who stands up to him.”

“I said some rather unnecessary things,” Penny declared regretfully. “I was provoked because he wouldn’t sign a lease with Mrs. Downey. After hearing what he said to Fergus and Maxwell I realize nothing will sway him.”

Sara sighed as she helped her friend put on her shoe again.

“I’m afraid not. I’ll do what I can to influence him, but I can tell you now he’ll never listen to me. Grandfather is just the way he is, and one can’t budge him an inch.”

Peter Jasko soon had the team hitched to the bob-sled. He and Sara helped Penny in, wrapping blankets around her so that she would be snug and warm during the ride up the mountain.

“Come down again whenever you can,” invited Sara. “Only the next time don’t try it after dark if you’re on skis.”

Penny glanced at the old man, but his face showed no displeasure. Apparently, he no longer regarded her as an interloper.

“I’ll come as soon as I can,” she replied.

Peter Jasko clucked to the horses, and the sled moved away from the cabin. Sara stood in the doorway until it was out of sight.

During the slow ride up the mountain side, the old man did not speak. But as they came at last to the Downey lodge, and he lifted her from the sled, he actually smiled.

“I reckon it won’t do any good to lock Sara up after this,” he said. “You’re both too smart for an old codger like me.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jasko,” answered Penny, her eyes shining. “Thank you for everything.”

The door of the lodge had opened, and Mrs. Downey, a coat thrown over her shoulders, hurried out into the snow. Not wishing to be drawn into a conversation, Jasko leaped back into the sled, and with a curt, “Good evening,” drove away.

With Mrs. Downey’s help, Penny hobbled into the house, and there related her latest misadventure.

“I declare, you’ll be in the hospital yet,” sighed the woman. “I feel tempted to adopt Mr. Jasko’s tactics and lock you up in your room.”

“I’ll stay there without being locked in,” declared Penny. “I’ve had enough skiing to last me until Christmas at least.”

In the morning she felt so stiff and battered that she could barely get out of bed. However, her ankle was somewhat better and when occasion demanded, she could hobble across the room without support.

“You ought to be all right in a day or so if only you’ll stay off your foot and give it a chance to get well,” declared Mrs. Downey.

“It’s hard to sit still,” sighed Penny. “There are so many things I ought to be doing.”

From the kitchen window she could see the Fergus hotel far down in the valley. She was impatient to pay another visit there, although she realized that after the previous evening’s encounter with Ralph Fergus and Harvey Maxwell, it would be more difficult than ever to gain admittance.

“Somehow I must manage to get into Room 27 and learn what is going on there,” she thought. “But how? That is the question!”

Ever an active, energetic person, Penny became increasingly restless as the day dragged on. During mid-afternoon, observing that Jake had hitched up the team to the sled, she inquired if he were driving down to Pine Top.

“Yes, I am sending him after supplies,” explained Mrs. Downey. “And the newspapers—if there are any.”

“I wish I could go along for the ride.”

Mrs. Downey regarded Penny skeptically.

“Oh, I wouldn’t get out of the sled,” Penny said.

“Is that a promise?”

“I’ll make it one. Nothing less than a fire or an earthquake will get me out.”

Jake brought the sled to the door, and helped the girl into it. The day was cold. Snow fell steadily. Mrs. Downey tucked warm bricks at Penny’s feet and wrapped her snugly in woolen blankets.

The ride down the mountainside was without event. Penny began to regret that she had made the trip, for the weather was more unpleasant than she had anticipated. She burrowed deeper and deeper into the blankets.

Jake pulled up at a hitching post in front of Pine Top’s grocery store.

“It won’t take me long,” he said.

Penny climbed down in the bottom of the sled, rearranging her blankets so that only her eyes and forehead were exposed to the cold. She had been sitting there for some minutes when her attention was drawn to a man who was approaching from far down the street. Recognizing him as Ralph Fergus, she watched with interest.

At the drugstore he paused. As if by prearrangement, Benny Smith came out of the building. Penny was too far away to hear their exchange of words, but she saw the boy give all of his newspapers to Ralph Fergus. In return, he received a bill which she guessed might be of fairly high denomination.

“Probably five dollars,” she thought. “The boy sells all his papers to Fergus because he can make more that way than by peddling them one by one. And he’s paid to keep quiet about it.”

Penny was not especially surprised to discover that the hotel man was buying up all the papers, for she had suspected he was behind the trick.

“There’s no law against it,” she told herself. “That’s the trouble. Fergus and Maxwell are clever. So far they’ve done nothing which could possibly get them into legal trouble.”

Presently Jake came out of the grocery store, carrying a large box of supplies which he stowed in the sled.

“I’ll get the papers and then we’ll be ready to start.”

“Don’t bother,” said Penny. “There aren’t any. I just saw Ralph Fergus buy them all from the boy.”

“Fergus, eh? And he’s been puttin’ it out that the papers never caught the plane!”

“It was just another one of his little tricks to make Mrs. Downey’s guests dissatisfied.”

“Now we know what he’s about we’ll put a stop to it!”

“Yes,” agreed Penny, “but he’ll only think of something new to try.”

As they started back toward the Downey lodge, she was quiet, turning over various matters in her mind. Since Mrs. Downey had decided to sell her business, it scarcely seemed to matter what Ralph Fergus did.

The sled drew near the Jasko cabin and passed it, turning a bend in the road. Suddenly Penny thought she heard her name called. Glancing back she was startled to see Sara Jasko running after the sled.

“Wait, Jake!” Penny commanded. “It’s Sara! Something seems to be wrong!”