CHAPTER 15 HIDDEN MONEY

One of Penny’s first acts upon arriving home was to scan the telephone directory under the heading, Investment Firms. The three companies mentioned during the séance, White and Edwards, Brantwell, and Bierkamp, were unlisted.

“Evidently there are no such firms in Riverview,” she reflected. “But why was Mrs. Weems advised to invest her money with one of them? It looks very suspicious to me!”

Not until after five o’clock did Mrs. Weems return from the Hodges’. She seemed rather upset, and when Penny tried to bring up the subject of the séance, said distantly:

“Please, Penny, I prefer not to discuss it. Your conduct was disgraceful.”

“I apologize for grabbing at the ghost, Mrs. Weems. I only did it to prove that Al Gepper is a fraud.”

“Your motives were quite apparent. One could not blame Mr. Gepper for being angry.”

“Oh, Mrs. Weems,” said Penny in desperation. “How can you be taken in by his smooth line? His one purpose is to obtain your money.”

“You are very unjust,” the housekeeper responded. “Today I tried to pay Mr. Gepper for the séance and he would not accept one penny.”

“That’s because he is playing for higher stakes.”

“It’s no use discussing the matter with you,” Mrs. Weems shrugged. “You are prejudiced and will give the man credit for nothing.”

“I give him credit for being very clever. Mrs. Weems, please promise that you’ll not allow him to invest your money for you.”

“I have no intention of doing so, Penny. It does seem to me that I should consider Cousin David’s wishes in the matter. Very likely I shall abandon my plans for the western trip.”

“And stay here with us?” Penny cried eagerly.

“No, I am thinking of going to a larger city and taking an apartment. With my money invested in eight per cent securities, I should have a comfortable little income.”

“Mrs. Weems, I’ve heard Dad say over and over that sound securities will not pay such a high rate of interest. Promise you won’t invest your money until you’ve talked with him.”

“You’re always asking me to promise something or other,” the housekeeper sighed. “This time I shall use my own judgment.”

Realizing that further argument was only a waste of breath, Penny wandered outside to await her father. When he came, they sat together on the front porch steps, discussing the situation.

“I’ll drop a word of advice to Mrs. Weems at the first opportunity,” offered Mr. Parker. “If she is in the mood you describe, it would not be wise to bring up the subject tonight. She merely would resent my interference.”

“What worries me is that I am afraid she may have told Al Gepper where the money is kept.”

“Tomorrow I’ll urge her again to deposit it in a bank. We’ll do our best to protect her from these sharpers.”

The publisher had been very much interested in Penny’s account of the séance. However, he was unable to explain how the various tricks had been accomplished.

“Dad,” Penny said thoughtfully, “you don’t suppose there’s any chance it wasn’t trickery?”

“Certainly not! I hope you’re not falling under this fellow’s spell?”

“No, but it gave me a real shock when I saw Cousin David’s face materialize on the canvas. It was the absolute image of him—or rather of a picture Mrs. Weems once showed me.”

A startled expression came over Penny’s face. Without explanation, she sprang to her feet and ran to the kitchen.

“Mrs. Weems,” she cried, “did you ever get it back? Your picture!”

“What picture, Penny?” The housekeeper scarcely glanced up as she vigorously scrubbed carrots.

“I mean the one of Cousin David. You allowed a photographer to take it for enlargement.”

“It hasn’t been returned,” Mrs. Weems admitted. “I can’t imagine why the work takes so long.”

“I think I can,” announced Penny. “But you never would believe me if I told you, so I won’t.”

Racing to the porch, she revealed to her father what she thought had occurred. It was her theory that the agent who had called at the Parker home days earlier had in actuality been one of Al Gepper’s assistants.

“Don’t you see, Dad!” she cried. “The man obtained a picture of Cousin David, and probably turned it over to the medium.” Her face fell slightly. “Of course, that still doesn’t explain how the painting slowly materialized.”

“Nor does it explain the ghost or the banjo. Penny, couldn’t Gepper have painted the picture himself in the darkness?”

“There wasn’t time, Dad. Besides, he held a flashlight on the painting. No human hand touched it.”

“You say, too, that the banjo was high overhead when it played?”

“That’s right, Dad. Gepper couldn’t have reached the strings. The instrument floated free in the air.”

“Sounds fantastic.”

“Believe me, it was, Dad. It’s no wonder Gepper is gaining such influence over Mrs. Weems. He’s as slick as a greased fox!”

“I’ll have Jerry go to the house and try to learn how the fellow operates,” declared Mr. Parker. “We can’t break the story until we have absolute evidence that Gepper has obtained money under false pretenses.”

The next day Penny remained close at home. Mrs. Weems still treated her somewhat distantly, leaving the house immediately after lunch and declining to explain where she was going. Penny was quite certain that her destination was the Hodges’ cottage.

“Guess I’ll run over and see Louise,” she thought restlessly. “Nothing to do here.”

Before she could leave the house, the doorbell rang. A man of perhaps thirty, well dressed, with a leather briefcase tucked under his arm, stood on the front porch. He bowed politely to Penny.

“This is where Mrs. Weems resides, I believe?”

“Yes, but she isn’t here now.”

“When will she be home?”

“I can’t say,” replied Penny. “Are you an agent?”

The man’s appearance displeased her although she could not have said exactly why. His smile was too ingratiating, his eyes calculating and hard.

“My name is Bierkamp,” he explained. “I represent the Harold G. Bierkamp Investment Company.”

Penny stiffened. She glared at the agent. “You mean you represent the Al Gepper Spookus Company,” she said in a cutting voice. “Well, Mrs. Weems doesn’t want any of your wonderful eight per cent stocks! She’ll not see you, so don’t come here again!”

“And who are you to speak for her?” the man retorted.

“If you come here again, I’ll call the police,” Penny threatened. “Now get out!”

Without another word, the man retreated down the street. Penny watched until he turned a corner and was lost to view. She was a trifle worried as to what she had done.

“If Mrs. Weems learns about this she’ll never forgive me,” she thought uneasily. “But he was a crook sent by Al Gepper. I know it.”

Wandering upstairs, she entered the bathroom, intending to wash before going to Louise’s home. On the tiled floor lay a velvet ribbon with a key attached. At once, Penny realized that Mrs. Weems had left it there inadvertently.

“It’s the key to her desk,” she reflected, picking it up. “And she insists that her money is kept in a safe place! I have a notion to play a joke on her.”

The longer Penny considered the idea, the more it pleased her. Jubilantly, she set forth for the Sidell home. Taking Louise into her confidence, she visited a novelty shop and purchased a supply of fake money.

Returning home, she then unlocked the drawer of Mrs. Weems’ desk and, removing the six thousand dollars, replaced it with neat stacks of imitation bills. Louise watched her with misgiving.

“Penny, this joke of yours isn’t likely to strike Mrs. Weems as very funny,” she warned. “You’re always doing things which get you into trouble.”

“This is in a good cause, Lou. I am protecting Mrs. Weems from her own folly.”

“What will you do with the money?”

“Deposit it in a bank.”

“You are taking matters into your hands with a vengeance! Suppose you’re robbed on the way downtown?”

“That would complicate my life. Upon second thought, I’ll send for an armored truck.”

To Louise’s amazement, Penny actually carried through her plan. A heavily guarded express truck presently drew up before the Parker residence, and Mrs. Weems’ money was turned over to the two armed men who promised that it would be delivered safely to the First National Bank.

“There, that’s a load off my mind,” said Penny. “Just let Al Gepper try to steal Mrs. Weems’ money now!”

Louise shook her head sadly. “You may be accused of stealing yourself. I wouldn’t be in your slippers when Mrs. Weems learns about this.”

“Oh, I’ll be able to explain,” laughed Penny.

The joke she had played did not seem quite so funny an hour later. Mrs. Weems returned home and without comment recovered the key which had been replaced on the lavatory floor. She did not open her desk or mention the money.

At dinner Penny was so subdued that the housekeeper inquired if she were ill.

“Not yet,” the girl answered. “I’m just thinking about the future. It’s so depressing.”

“Perhaps a picture show would cheer us all,” proposed Mr. Parker.

Mrs. Weems displayed interest, and Penny, without enthusiasm, agreed to go. Eight o’clock found them at the Avalon, a neighborhood theatre. The show was not to Penny’s liking, although her father and the housekeeper seemed to enjoy it. She squirmed restlessly, and finally whispered to her father that she was returning home.

In truth, as Penny well knew, she was suffering from an acute case of “conscience.” Now that it was too late, she regretted having meddled with Mrs. Weems’ money.

Gloomily she walked home alone. As she entered, she heard the telephone ringing, but before she could answer, the party hung up. With a sigh Penny locked the front door again, switched out the lights and went to bed.

For a long while she lay staring at a patch of moonlight on the bedroom carpet. Although she felt tired she could not sleep.

“It’s just as Louise said,” she reflected. “I’m always getting myself into hot water and for no good reason, either!”

Her morose thoughts were interrupted as a hard object thudded against a nearby wall. Penny sat up, listening. She believed that the sound had come from Mrs. Weems’ room, yet she knew she was alone in the house.

Rolling from bed, she groped for a robe, and without turning on the lights, tiptoed down the hall. Mrs. Weems’ door stood open. Was some intruder hidden in that room?

Peering inside, Penny at first noticed nothing amiss. Then her gaze fastened on the window sill, plainly visible in the moonlight. Two iron hooks, evenly spaced, had been clamped over the ledge!