CHAPTER 20 CLEM DAVIS’ DISCLOSURE
After Clem Davis had disappeared into the woods, Penny wasted no more time in the vicinity. Jumping into her car, she drove home in a daze of excitement, to tell her father the amazing story.
“Meeting that man was wonderful luck!” she assured him exultantly. “Why, if only he reveals what he knows, we will get an exclusive story for the Star! We’ll expose the Hoods and put an end to the organization!”
“As easy as that?” laughed Mr. Parker. “Seriously though, I think we are on the verge of cracking the story. In going over the books of the County Cooperative, Jerry has discovered any number of discrepancies.”
“I’ve always thought that Hank Holloway might be connected with the Hoods, Dad! I believe he was the night rider who made off with Mrs. Davis’ melons.”
“Any idea who the other members of the outfit may be?”
“Not yet, but I expect to find out when I meet Clem Davis tomorrow.”
“I’ll go with you,” Mr. Parker declared. “Maybe I should take Sheriff Daniels along too.”
“Oh, Dad,” Penny protested indignantly. “I promised to help Clem, not turn him over to an officer. I am afraid that unless I go alone, he’ll not even show himself.”
“Perhaps it would be best for you to go by yourself,” the editor admitted. “Learn what you can from Davis, and make an appointment for him to see me.”
Another matter weighed heavily on Penny’s mind. In her encounter with Clyde Blake that morning, she had acted in a high-handed manner, and sooner or later her father must hear about the cheque episode.
“Dad, I have a confession to make,” she began awkwardly. “When I reached the camp this morning I found that Mr. Blake had induced the board members to buy the property—”
“Never mind,” Mr. Parker interrupted. “I’ve already heard the details of your disgraceful actions from Mrs. Van Cleve.”
“I’m thoroughly ashamed of myself,” Penny said contritely. “I tore up the cheque on the spur of the moment.”
“It was a foolish, rather dramatic thing to do. However, I must acknowledge the result was highly pleasing to everyone save Clyde Blake.”
“What does he have to say, Dad?”
“He claims that he acted in good faith for Benjamin Bowman. Likewise, that he had no suspicion the title was faulty.”
“Naturally he would take such an attitude.”
“I’ve asked Blake to produce Ben Bowman,” Mr. Parker resumed. “Unless he can do so and prove that the property actually is owned by him, the deal is off.”
“Do you think Blake will bring the man to Riverview?”
“I doubt it very much,” the editor answered. “I suspect he’ll bluff, and finally let the deal go by default. It will be an easy way out for him.”
“Blake always seems to escape his misdeeds. I wish we could find Ben Bowman ourselves, and bring the two men together. That would be interesting!”
“Finding Ben Bowman would serve many useful purposes,” Mr. Parker said grimly. “But now that I would actually welcome a communication from him, he no longer pesters me!”
Eagerly Penny awaited the hour appointed for her meeting with Clem Davis. Knowing that the man did not obtain enough to eat, she spent considerable time the next afternoon preparing a lunch basket of substantial food. Taking it with her, she waited at the camp site for nearly a half hour. Finally, just as she began to think that the man had failed her, he appeared.
“I’ve brought you some hot coffee,” Penny said, taking the plug from a thermos bottle. “A little food too.”
“Say, that’s swell!” the man murmured gratefully. “My wife slips me a handout whenever she can, but lately the house has been watched so closely, she can’t get away.”
Seating himself at the picnic table, Clem Davis drained the cup of coffee in a few swallows, and greedily devoured a sandwich.
“Now what do you want to know?” he asked gruffly.
Mr. Parker had told Penny exactly what questions to ask. She began with the most important one.
“Mr. Davis, tell me, who is the head man of the Hoods?”
“I don’t know myself,” he answered promptly. “At the meetings, the Master always wore a robe and a black hood. None of the members ever were permitted to see his face.”
“You have no idea who the man may be?”
Clem Davis shook his head as he bit into another sandwich. “I doubt there are more than one or two members of the order who know his identity. Hank Holloway might, or maybe Charley Phelps.”
“Is Phelps a member?” Penny asked quickly.
“One of the chief ones. Most of the meetings are held at his place.”
“You don’t mean at the Hubell Tower?”
Penny’s pulse had stepped up to a faster pace, for the information was of the greatest value. Furthermore, it thrilled her that her own theory regarding Charley Phelps was receiving support.
“Sure, the Hoods meet at the Tower about once a month,” Clem Davis disclosed. “Usually they get together on the thirteenth, but sometimes they have extra sessions. When special meetings are held, a green light burns on the tower, or the clock strikes thirteen times just at midnight.”
“I thought so!” Penny exclaimed, highly elated. “Tell me, why did you decide to break your connection with the Hoods?”
“I joined the organization before I knew what I was letting myself in for. When they made plans to burn the Preston barn, I wanted to quit. The Hoods threatened me, and to get even, planted evidence that made it look as if I had set the fire.”
Penny was inclined to believe that Clem Davis had told a straight story for it coincided with her own theories. Always it had seemed to her that evidence pointing to his guilt had been entirely too plain. To corroborate her conclusions, she had brought from home the watch fob found at the Davis stable, hoping that he might identify it.
“That’s not mine,” he said promptly when she showed the article to him. “I never saw it before.”
Penny opened the tiny case, displaying the child’s picture. However, the man had no idea who the little boy might be.
“Mr. Davis,” she said quietly, replacing the watch fob in her pocket. “I believe in your innocence, and I want to help you. I am sure I can, providing you are willing to cooperate.”
“I’ve already told you about everything I know.”
“You’ve given me splendid information,” Penny praised. “What I want you to do is to talk with my father. He’ll probably ask you to repeat your story to the Grand Jury.”
“I’d be a fool to do that,” Clem Davis responded. “I can’t prove any of my statements. The Preston fire would be pinned on me, and the Hoods might try to harm my wife. Why, they ran off with a truck load of our melons the other night.”
“I know. But unless someone has the courage to speak out against the Hoods they’ll become bolder and do even more harm. Supposing you were promised absolute protection. Then would you go before the Grand Jury?”
“Nothing would give me more pleasure. But who can guarantee I’ll not be made to pay?”
“I think my father can,” Penny assured him. “Will you meet him here tomorrow night at this same hour?”
“Okay,” the man agreed, getting up from the table. “You seem to be on the level.”
“I’ll bring more food tomorrow,” Penny said as an extra inducement. “You must have had a hard time since you’ve been hiding out in the woods.”
“Oh, it’s not so bad once you get used to it,” the man shrugged. “I’ve got a pretty good place to sleep now.”
“Inside a building?” Penny asked curiously.
“An automobile,” the man grinned. “Someone abandoned it in the swamp and I’ve taken possession.”
“An old one, I suppose.”
“Not so old,” Clem Davis answered. “Funny thing, it’s a 1941 Deluxe model with good upholstery. The only thing I can see wrong with it is that the front grill and fenders have been smashed.”
“The car isn’t by chance a gray one?”
“Yes, it is,” the man admitted. “How did you guess?”
“I didn’t guess,” Penny returned soberly. “I have a suspicion that car is the one which killed two people about a year ago. Mr. Davis, you must take me to it at once!”
