CHAPTER 21 OLD PETER’S DISAPPEARANCE

“Whoa!” shouted Jake, pulling on the reins.

The horses brought the heavy sled to a halt at the side of the road. Sara, breathless from running so fast, hurried up.

“I’m worried about Grandfather,” she gasped out.

“He isn’t sick?” Penny asked quickly,

“No, but I haven’t seen him since early this morning. He went to chop wood at Hatter’s place up the mountain. He expected to be back in time for lunch but he hasn’t returned.”

“He’ll likely be along soon,” said Jake.

“Oh, you don’t know Grandfather,” declared Sara, her forehead wrinkling with anxiety. “He always does exactly as he says he will do. He never would have stayed away this long unless something had happened. He’s getting on in years and I’m afraid—”

“Jake, couldn’t we go up to Hatter’s place, wherever it is?” Penny urged.

“Sure. It’s not far from Mrs. Downey’s.”

“Let me ride with you,” Sara requested. “I’m sorry to cause you any trouble, but I have a feeling something is wrong.”

“Jump in,” invited Jake.

Sara climbed into the back of the sled, snuggling down in the blankets beside Penny.

“Grandfather may have hurt himself with the ax,” she said uneasily. “Or he could have suffered a stroke. The doctor says he has a touch of heart-trouble, but he never will take care of himself.”

“We’ll probably find him safe and sound,” Penny declared in a comforting way.

Jake stirred the horses to greater activity. In a short while the sled passed the Downey grounds and went on to the Hatter farm. Sara sprang out to unlock the wooden gate which barred entrance to a narrow, private road.

“I see Grandfather’s sled!” she exclaimed.

Without waiting for Jake to drive through the gate, she ran on down the road. Hearing her cry of alarm, the man urged his horses on.

Reaching the clearing, Penny and Jake saw Sara gazing about in bewilderment. Peter Jasko’s team had been tied to a tree and the sled box was half filled with wood. An ax lay in the deep snow close by. But there was no sign of the old man.

“Where is grandfather?” Sara asked in a dazed voice.

She called his name several times. Hearing no answer, she ran deeper into the woods. Jake leaped from the sled and joined in the search. Penny could not bear to sit helplessly by. Deciding that the emergency was equal to an earthquake or a fire, she eased herself down from the sled.

Steadily falling snow had obliterated all tracks save those made by the new arrivals. There was no clue to indicate whether Peter Jasko had left the scene of his own free will or had been the possible victim of violence.

Jake and Sara searched at the edge of the woods and returned to the clearing to report no success.

“Maybe your granddad went up to Hatter’s place to get warm,” the man suggested.

“He never would have left his horses without blanketing them,” answered Sara. “But let’s go there and inquire. Someone may have seen Grandfather.”

They drove the bob-sled on through the woods to an unpainted farm house. Claud Hatter himself opened the door, and in response to Sara’s anxious question, he told her that he had seen Peter Jasko drive into the place early that morning.

“You didn’t see him go away?” Sara asked.

“No, but come to think of it, I noticed a car turn into the road. Must have been about ten o’clock this morning.”

“What sort of car?”

The man could give no additional information, for he had not paid particular attention to the automobile. However, he pulled on his heavy coat and boots, offering to help organize a searching party.

Sara and Penny remained at the farm house, but as it became evident that the old man would not be found quickly, Jake returned and took the girls down the mountain to the Downey lodge.

“What could have happened to Grandfather?” Sara repeated over and over. “I can’t believe he became dazed and wandered away.”

“I wish we knew who came in the car,” said Penny. “That might explain a lot.”

“You—you think Grandfather met with violence?”

“I hope not,” replied Penny earnestly. “But it seems very queer. Did your grandfather have enemies?”

“He antagonizes many folks without meaning to do so. However, I can’t think of anyone at Pine Top who could be called an actual enemy.”

By nightfall the searching party had grown in size. Nearly every male resident of Pine Top joined in the hunt for Peter Jasko. Even the Fergus hotel sent two employes to help comb the mountainside for the missing old man.

Sara, nearly in a state of collapse, was put to bed by Mrs. Downey, who kept telling the girl over and over that she must not worry. In speaking with Penny, the woman was far from optimistic. She expressed a doubt that Peter Jasko ever would be found alive.

“He may have wandered off and fallen into a crevasse.”

“I am inclined to think he may have been spirited away by whoever came up the private road in that car,” commented Penny.

“I can’t imagine anyone bothering to kidnap Peter Jasko,” returned Mrs. Downey. “He has no money.”

“It does sound rather fantastic, I admit. Especially in broad daylight. You didn’t notice any automobile on the main road this morning did you?”

“Only the Fergus hotel delivery truck. But I was busy. A dozen might have passed without my noticing them.”

At nine o’clock Jake came to the lodge with a discouraging report. No trace of Peter Jasko had been found. The search would continue throughout the night.

“Which way are you going?” Penny inquired as the man started to leave the house again. “Up the mountain or down?”

“Down,” he returned. “I’m joining a party at Jasko’s own place. We aim to start combing the woods on his farm next.”

“May I ride with you?” she requested. “I want to go down to the Fergus hotel.”

“Penny, your ankle—” protested Mrs. Downey.

“I can get around on it,” Penny said hurriedly. “See!” She hobbled across the floor to prove her words. “And this is important. I want to see someone at the hotel.”

“So late at night?”

“It really is important,” Penny declared. “Please say I may go.”

“Very well,” agreed Mrs. Downey reluctantly.

Jake took Penny all the way to the hotel. “Shall I help you inside?” he asked.

“Oh, no,” she declined hurriedly. “I’ll make it fine from here.”

After Jake had driven back up the road, Penny limped around to the back entrance of the hotel. She stood for several minutes staring up at the dark windows of the second floor.

“I believe Ralph Fergus and Harvey Maxwell know plenty about Jasko’s disappearance,” she thought. “But how to prove it?”

On the parking lot only a few steps away stood the Fergus hotel delivery truck. Penny hobbled over to it, and opened the rear door. She swept the beam of her flashlight over the floor.

At first glance the car appeared to be empty save for several cardboard boxes. Then she saw a heavy, fleece-lined glove lying on the floor half hidden by the containers. She picked it up, examined it briefly and stuffed it into the pocket of her snowsuit.

“I remember Peter Jasko wore a glove very much like this!” she thought.

Softly closing the truck door, Penny went back to the rear of the hotel. The lower hall was deserted so she slipped inside, and followed the stairway to the second floor. She tried the door of Room 27 and discovered it was locked.

“I was afraid of this,” Penny muttered.

Hesitating a moment she went on down the hall. Opening another door, the one which bore no number, she saw that she was to be blocked again in her investigation. The familiar guard sat at his usual post beside the door of the Green Room.

Retreating without drawing attention to herself, Penny debated her next action. Unless she found a way to enter one of those two rooms of mystery, her night would be wasted.

Moving softly down the hall, she paused to test the door to the right of Room 27. To her astonishment, it swung open when she turned the knob. The room was dark and deserted.

Penny stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Her flashlight beam disclosed only a dusty, bare bedroom, its sole furnishing a thickly padded carpet.

Going to the window, Penny raised it and gazed at the wide ledge which she had noted from below. If she had perfect balance, if the window of Room 27 were unlocked, if her lame ankle did not let her down, she might be able to span the distance! It would be dangerous and she must run the risk of being observed by persons on the grounds of the hotel. Penny gazed down at the frozen yard far below and shuddered.

“I’ve been pretty lucky in my falls so far,” she thought. “But I have a feeling if I slip this time it will be my last.”

Penny pulled herself through the window. As the full force of the wind struck her body, threatening to hurl her from her precarious perch, she nearly lost her courage. She clung to the sill for a moment, and then without daring to look down, inched her way along the ledge.

Reaching the other window in safety, she tried to push it up. For a dreadful instant, Penny was certain she could not. But it gave so suddenly she nearly lost her balance. Holding desperately to the sill, she recovered, and raised the window.

Penny dropped lightly through the opening into the dark room. Pains were shooting through her ankle, but so great was her excitement she scarcely was aware of any discomfort.

She flashed her light about the room. As she had suspected, there were two teletype machines, neither of which was in operation. A chair had been pulled up to a direct-keyboard machine similar to one Penny had seen in her father’s newspaper office. Save for a wooden table the room contained nothing else.

Penny went over to the machines and focused her light upon the paper in the rollers. It was blank.

“This is maddening!” she thought. “I take a big risk to get in here and what do I find—nothing!”

Footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway. Penny remained perfectly still, expecting the person to pass on. Instead, the noise ceased altogether and a key grated in the door lock.

In panic, Penny glanced frantically about. She could not hope to get out the window in time to escape detection. The only available hiding place was a closet.

Switching off her light, Penny opened the door. Stepping inside, she closed it softly behind her.