CHAPTER 24 HENRI’S SALON

Penny sought to push past the two men, but Harvey Maxwell caught her roughly by the arm.

“Unfortunately, my dear Miss Parker, you have observed certain things which you may not understand,” he said. “Lest you misinterpret them, and are inclined to run to your father with fantastic tales, you must be detained here. Now I have a great distaste for violence. I trust it will not be necessary to use force now.”

“Let me go,” Penny cried, trying to jerk away.

“Take her, Frank,” instructed the hotel man. “For the time being put her in the tunnel room. I’ll be down as soon as I talk with Ralph.”

Before Penny could scream, a hand was clapped over her mouth. The guard, Frank, held her in a firm grip from which she could not free herself.

“Get going!” he commanded.

But Penny braced her feet and stood perfectly still. From the outside corridor she had heard a low rumble of voices. Then Ralph Fergus spoke above the others, in an exasperated, harassed tone:

“This old man is crazy, I tell you! We never kept him a prisoner in our hotel. We have a Green Room, to be sure, but it is rented out to a man named Henri Croix who is in the fur business.”

Penny’s pulse quickened. Peter Jasko had carried out her order and had brought the police!

Harvey Maxwell and the guard well comprehended their danger. With a quick jerk of his head the hotel man indicated a closet where Penny could be secreted. As the two men tried to pull her to it, she sunk her teeth into Frank’s hand. His hold over her mouth relaxed for an instant, but that instant was enough. She screamed at the top of her lungs.

The outside door swung open. Led by Peter Jasko, the sheriff and several deputies filed into the corridor. Ralph Fergus did not follow, and Penny saw him trying to slip away.

“Don’t let that man escape!” she cried. “Arrest him!”

Peter Jasko himself overtook Fergus and brought him back.

“I’ve got a score to settle with you,” he muttered. “You ain’t a good enough talker to get out of this.”

“Gentlemen—” It was Harvey Maxwell who spoke, and his tone was irritated. “What is the meaning of this intrusion?”

“We’ve had a complaint,” said the sheriff. “Jasko here says you kept him a prisoner in the hotel, trying to make him sign a paper.”

“The old fellow is right in a way,” replied Mr. Maxwell. “Not about the paper. We did detain him here for his own good, and he managed to get away. I regret to say he went completely out of his mind, became violent, threatened our guests, and it was necessary to hold him until the doctor could arrive. We’ve already sent for Doctor Corbin.”

“That’s just what I was telling them,” added Ralph Fergus.

“Now let me speak my piece,” said Penny. “Peter Jasko was held a prisoner here because Fergus and Maxwell wanted him to sign a paper leasing his ski slopes to the hotel. That was only one of their many little stunts. Fergus and Maxwell are the heads of a gigantic fur smuggling business, and they use their hotels merely as a legitimate front.”

“Your proof?” demanded Harvey Maxwell sarcastically. “The real truth is that I am suing this girl’s father for libel. He sent her here to try to dig up something against me. She’s using every excuse she can find to involve me in affairs about which I know nothing.”

“If you want proof, I’ll furnish it,” said Penny. “Just step into the Green Room where Henri Croix, a phony Frenchman, is engaged in selling fur coats to three ladies.”

“There’s no crime in that,” declared Ralph Fergus angrily. “Mr. Croix pays the hotel three hundred dollars a month for the use of this wing. So far as we know his business is legitimate. If for any reason we learn it is not, we will be the first to ask for an investigation.”

“Not quite the first,” smiled Penny, “for I’ve already made the request. To go on with my proof, it might be well to investigate Room 27 on this same floor.”

“Room 27 is given over to our teletype service,” interrupted Maxwell. “Our guests like to get the stock reports, you know, and that is why we have the machines.”

“In Room 27 you will find a storage vault for furs,” Penny went on, thoroughly enjoying herself. “A panel revolves, opening the way to a secret stair which leads down into the basement of the hotel. I’m not certain about the rest—”

“No?” demanded Maxwell ironically.

“There are additional storage vaults in the basement,” Penny resumed. “A man is down there guarding what appears to be a tunnel. Tell me, is this hotel close to the old silver mine?”

“About a quarter of a mile from the entrance,” replied the sheriff. “Some of the tunnels might come right up to the hotel grounds.”

“I understand the hotel bought out the mine, and I believe they may be making use of the old tunnels. At least, the place will bear an investigation. Oh, yes, this paper came off one of the teletype machines.”

Penny took the torn sheet from her pocket and gave it to the sheriff.

“I can’t read it,” he said, frowning.

“Code,” explained Penny. “If I had a typewriter I could figure it out. Suppose we go to Room 27 now. I’m positive you’ll learn that my story is not as fantastic as it seems.”

Leaving Peter Jasko and two deputies to guard Fergus and Maxwell and to see that no one left the Green Room, Penny led the sheriff and four other armed men down the hall. In her excitement she failed to observe Francine Sellberg standing by the elevator, watching intently.

“Here are the teletype machines,” Penny indicated, pausing beside them. “Now let me have that message. I think I can read it.”

Studying the keyboard of the teletype for a moment, she wrote out her translation beneath the jumbled line of printing. It read:

“Train Arrives approximately 11:25.”

“What does that mean?” the sheriff inquired. “We have no trains at Pine Top.”

“We’ll see,” chuckled Penny.

She showed the men the vault filled with furs, and pressed the spring which opened the wall panel.

“Be careful in descending the stairway,” she warned. “I know they have one guard down there and possibly others.”

Sheriff Clausson and his men went ahead of Penny. The guard, taken completely by surprise, was captured without a shot being fired.

“Now what have we here?” the sheriff inquired, peering into the dimly lighted tunnel.

As far as one could see stretched a narrow, rusted track with an extra rail.

“A miniature electric railway!” exclaimed the sheriff.

“How far is it from here to the border?” inquired Penny thoughtfully.

“Not more than a mile.”

“I’ve been told Harvey Maxwell has a hotel located in Canada.”

“Yeah,” nodded the sheriff, following her thought. “We’ve known for years that furs were being smuggled, but we never once suspected the outfit was located here at Pine Top. And no wonder. This scheme is clever, so elaborate a fellow never would think of it. The underground railroad, complete with drainage pumps, storage rooms and electric lights, crosses the border and connects with the Canadian hotel. Fergus and Maxwell buy furs cheap and send them here without paying duty.”

“And teletype communication is maintained just as it is on a real railroad,” added Penny. “Fergus and Maxwell must have bought up the old mine just so they could make use of the tunnels. And they wanted to get rid of Mrs. Downey’s Inn so there would be no possible danger of a leak. How large do you suppose the smuggling ring is, Mr. Clausson?”

“Large enough. Likely it will take weeks to get all of the guilty persons rounded up. But I’m satisfied we have the main persons.”

“If I interpreted the code message right, a fur train should be coming in about eleven-thirty.”

“My men will be waiting,” the sheriff said grimly. “I’ll get busy now and tip off the Canadian authorities, so they can close in on the gang from the other end of the line.”

“What about Fergus and Maxwell?” asked Penny. “There’s no chance they can trump up a story and get free?”

“Not a chance,” returned the sheriff gruffly. “You’ve done your work, and now I’ll do mine.”

Penny started to turn away, then paused. “Oh, may I ask a favor?”

“I reckon you’ve earned it,” the sheriff answered, a twinkle in his eye.

“There’s one person involved in this mess who isn’t really to blame. An actress named Maxine Miller. She’s only been working for the hotel a few days, and I doubt if she knows what it’s all about.”

“We’ll give her every benefit of the doubt,” promised the sheriff. “I’ll remember the name. Miller.”

In a daze of excitement Penny rushed back up the stairway to the Green Room. Fergus and Maxwell, Henri Croix, and Maxine Miller were in custody, all angrily protesting their innocence. The commotion had brought many hotel guests to the scene. Questions were flying thick and fast.

Penny drew Peter Jasko aside to talk with him privately.

“I think you ought to go to Mrs. Downey’s lodge as soon as you can,” she urged. “Sara is there, and she’s dreadfully worried about you.”

“I’ll go now,” the old man said, offering his gnarled hand. “Much obliged for all you done tonight.”

“That’s quite all right,” replied Penny. “I was lucky or I never would have discovered where those men were keeping you.”

The old man hesitated, obviously wishing to say something more, yet unable to find the words.

“I done some thinkin’ tonight,” he muttered. “I reckon I been too strict with Sara. From now on maybe I’ll let her have a looser rein.”

“And ski all she likes,” urged Penny. “I really can’t see the harm in it.”

“I been thinkin’ about that lease, too,” the old man added, not looking directly at the girl. “When I see Mrs. Downey tonight I’ll tell her I’m ready to sign.”

“Oh, I’m so glad!” Penny exclaimed. “With the Fergus-Maxwell hotel out of the running, she ought to have a comfortable time of it here on Pine Top mountain.”

“Thanks to you,” grinned Peter Jasko. He offered his hand again and Penny gave it a firm pressure.

“I must hurry now,” she said. “This is a tremendous story, and I want to telegraph it to Dad before Francine Sellberg beats me to the jump.”

“Sellberg?” repeated the old man. “She ain’t that girl reporter that’s been stayin’ here at the hotel?”

Penny nodded.

“Then you better step,” he advised. “She’s on her way to the village now.”

“But how could Francine have learned about it so soon?” Penny wailed in dismay.

“I saw her talking with one of the deputies. She was writing things down in a notebook.”

“She couldn’t have learned everything, but probably enough to ruin my story. When did Francine leave, Mr. Jasko?”

“All of fifteen minutes ago.”

“Then I never can overtake her,” Penny murmured. “This is absolutely the worst break yet! Francine will reach the telegraph office first and hold the wire so I can’t use it. After all my work, her paper will get the big scoop!”

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