CHAPTER 14 THROUGH THE WINDOW
“You have the craziest ideas, Penny,” Louise scoffed. “I’ll admit the clock struck an extra time, but it must have been because something is wrong with the mechanism. A signal, my eye!”
Lowering the car window, Penny peered curiously up at the tower which was shrouded in fog and mist.
“Lou, there’s someone up there in the cupola! It may be Charley Phelps!”
“You can’t make a mystery out of Charley,” yawned Louise. “Probably he’s trying to repair the clock. Come on, let’s get home.”
Reluctantly, Penny raised the window glass. Before she could drive on, another car pulled up not far from the tower. The driver, a man in an overcoat, swung open the door as if to alight. However, observing Penny’s car parked close by, he seemed to change his mind. Keeping his head lowered so that his face was shadowed, he drove away.
“Who was that man?” Penny demanded suspiciously.
“I’m afraid I neglected to inquire,” Louise retorted. “So careless of me!”
“Whoever he was, he intended to enter the tower! When he saw us here, he became nervous and drove away!”
“Oh, Penny, you’re the limit.”
“Maybe I am, but I know what I think. The striking of the clock was a signal for some sort of meeting at the tower!”
“A board of directors confab perhaps?” teased Louise.
“Listen!” said Penny, ignoring the jibes. “I want to park the car on a side street, and then come back here afoot. Something is up and I mean to find out about it!”
“Oh, Penny,” Louise sighed. “If I don’t get home Mother never will allow me to go anywhere with you again. Don’t you realize what time it is?”
“Thirteen o’clock!” Penny chuckled. “It may never be that again, so I must strike while the clock strikes, so to speak. How about it?”
“Well, it’s your car,” Louise replied with a shrug. “I’m powerless in your hands.”
Penny drove around a block, parking on a well-lighted street. She and Louise then approached the tower afoot. Not wishing to be seen, they took care to keep close to a high hedge which edged the grounds.
“I never felt more silly in my life,” Louise complained. “What are we supposed to do now?”
“Windows were made to look through,” Penny responded coolly. “Let’s see what Charley Phelps is doing inside the tower.”
Circling the building, the girls placed a rock beneath one of the rear windows. From that unstable perch, Penny was able to peer into the living quarters of the tower.
“Well, what do you see, Sherlock?” Louise demanded impatiently.
“Nothing.”
“How perfectly amazing!” Louise taunted mischievously. “What do you make of it?”
“Charley Phelps seems to be reading a newspaper.”
“Baffling! It must have some deep, dark significance.”
With a sigh, Penny stepped down from the rock. “Want to look?” she invited.
“I do not!”
“Then I guess we may as well go home,” Penny said reluctantly.
As she spoke, both girls heard an automobile pull up in front of the tower. With reviving hope, Penny placed a restraining hand on Louise’s arm, forcing her to wait in the shadow of the building. A minute elapsed and then the front door of the tower slammed shut. Without the slightest hesitation, Penny once more moved to her previous position beneath the window.
“Charley has some visitors,” she reported in a whisper. “Four men I never saw before. I wish I could hear what they are saying.”
“Why not smash the window, or saw a hole through the wall?” Louise proposed sarcastically.
Penny stepped from the rock, offering the place to her chum.
“Do look inside,” she urged. “Maybe you’ll recognize those men. It’s really important.”
Louise unwillingly did as requested, but after a moment moved away from the window.
“I never saw any of them either,” she said. “They must be friends of Charley Phelps.”
“It’s a special meeting,” Penny insisted. “I suspect other men may come along within a few minutes.”
“I know one thing,” Louise announced flatly. “I’ll not be here to see them. If you’re not ready to go home, then I shall walk!”
“Oh, all right, I’ll go,” Penny grumbled. “It seems a pity though, just when we might have learned something important.”
Taking care to remove the stone from beneath the tower window, she hastened after her chum. In silence they drove to the Sidell home where Louise alighted.
“Sorry to have spoiled your fun, Penny,” she apologized as she said goodnight. “If you’ll only arrange to conduct your explorations by daylight I’ll try to cooperate.”
Arriving at her own home a few minutes later, Penny found her father waiting up for her. Mr. Parker had attended a meeting of the Camp Fund board, and upon returning at eleven-thirty, had been disturbed to find his daughter absent.
“Hold it! Hold it!” Penny greeted him before he could speak. “I know it’s late, but I can explain everything.”
“You’re always able to explain—too well,” the editor responded dryly. “Mrs. Weems expected that you would be home not later than eleven o’clock.”
“Well, one thing just seemed to lead to another, Dad. Louise and I saw a wonderful show, I obtained a copy of Ben Bowman’s signature, and then to top it off, the Hubell clock struck thirteen again!”
“Which in your estimation explains everything?”
“I wish it did,” Penny said, neatly changing the subject. “Dad, Louise and I saw a number of men going into the tower tonight. Obviously, they were summoned there by the striking of the clock.”
“Tommyrot!”
“Oh, Dad, you haven’t a scrap of imagination,” Penny sighed. “Has it never occurred to you that Charley Phelps may be connected with the Hoods?”
“Never,” replied Mr. Parker. “And if I were you I shouldn’t go around making such wild suggestions. You might find yourself involved in serious trouble.”
“You’re the only one to whom I’ve confided my theory, Dad. In fact, it only this minute occurred to me.”
“So I thought, Penny. If I were you I would forget the Hubell clock. Why not devote yourself to something worthwhile?”
“For instance?”
“I’ll provide an interesting job. I’ve been asked to select play equipment for the new orphans’ camp. I’ll be happy to turn the task over to you.”
“Do you think I could do it?” Penny asked dubiously.
“Why not? You can learn from the matron of the Home what is needed, and then make your selection.”
“I’ll be glad to do it, Dad. When is the camp to open?”
“The actual date hasn’t been set, but it will be soon. That is, unless a serious disagreement arises about the camp site.”
“A disagreement?” Penny inquired curiously.
“Yes, Mr. Blake is trying to influence the board to buy a track of land which he controls.”
“At a very high price?”
“The price seems to be fair enough. I personally don’t care for the site, however. It’s located on the river, but too close to the swamp.”
“Then why does the board consider it?”
“Mr. Blake gave a very generous donation, you remember. I figured at the time he would expect something in return.”
“He’ll profit by the sale?”
“Obviously. I don’t know who owns the land, but Blake will receive a commission on the sale. The board also is considering a wooded property closer to Riverview, and I favor that site.”
“Will the board listen to you, Dad?”
“I rather doubt it. My objections weren’t especially vigorous. Either property will be satisfactory, and Blake’s price is a trifle more attractive.”
With a yawn, Mr. Parker arose and locked the front door.
“It’s after one,” he said. “Let’s get to bed.”
Penny started up the stairway, only to pause as the telephone rang. While her father answered it, she waited, curiously to learn who would be calling at such a late hour. In a moment he replaced the receiver on its hook.
“That was the night editor of the Star,” he explained briefly.
“Has a big story broken, Dad?”
“Another storage barn was burned to the ground about ten minutes ago. The night editor called to ask how I wanted the story handled.”
“Then the depredation was done by the Hoods!”
“It looks that way.”
Penny came slowly down the stairway to face her father.
“Dad, if the fire was set only a few minutes ago, doesn’t that support my theory?”
“Which theory? You have so many.”
“I mean about the Hubell Tower,” Penny said soberly. “The clock struck thirteen on the night the Preston barn was destroyed! Don’t you see, Dad? The Hoods hold their meetings and then ride forth to accomplish their underhanded work!”
