CHAPTER 5 STRANGERS FROM TEXAS

Jerry smiled broadly as he edged the car from its parking space by the curb.

“You certainly have a vivid imagination, Penny,” he accused. “Those two men didn’t look like plain-clothes men to me. Anyway, if Ted Wiegand had committed an illegal act, wouldn’t it be your duty to turn him over to the authorities?”

“I suppose so,” Penny admitted unwillingly. “Ted stole one of Truman Crocker’s chickens today. It was a dreadful thing to do, but in a way you couldn’t blame him too much. I’m sure the Breens needed food.”

“Stealing is stealing. I don’t know the lad, but if a fellow is crooked in small things, he’s usually dishonest otherwise as well. Speaking of Truman Crocker, he was the man who hauled the big rock to the museum.”

“Was he?” Penny inquired, not particularly interested in the information. “I understand he does a great deal of rock hauling around Riverview. A queer fellow.”

Becoming absorbed in her own thoughts, Penny had little to say until the car drew up in front of the Parker home.

“Won’t you come in?” she invited Jerry as she alighted.

“Can’t tonight,” he declined regretfully. “I have a date at a bowling alley.”

Mr. Parker had been called downtown to attend a meeting, Penny discovered upon entering the house. Unable to tell him of her trip to the museum, she tried to interest Mrs. Weems in the story. However, the housekeeper, who was eager to start for a moving-picture theatre, soon cut her short.

“Excuse me, Penny, but I really must be leaving or I’ll be late,” she apologized, putting on her hat.

“I thought you were interested in mystery, Mrs. Weems.”

“Mystery, yes,” smiled the housekeeper. “To tell you the truth, though, I can’t become very excited over an old stone, no matter what’s written on it.”

After Mrs. Weems had gone, Penny was left alone in the big house. She sat down to read a book but soon laid it aside. To pass the time, she thought she would make a batch of fudge. But, no sooner had she mixed the sugar and chocolate together than it seemed like a useless occupation, so she set aside the pan for Mrs. Weems to finish upon her return from the movie.

“I know what I’ll do!” she thought suddenly. “I wonder why I didn’t think of it sooner?”

Hastening to the telephone she called her chum, Louise, asking her to come over at once.

“What’s up?” the other inquired curiously.

“We’re going to carry out a philanthropic enterprise, Lou! I’ll tell you about it when you get here!”

“One of these days you’ll choke on some of those big words,” Louise grumbled. “All right, I’ll come.”

Fifteen minutes later she arrived at the Parker home to find Penny, garbed in an apron, working industriously in the kitchen.

“Say, what is this?” Louise demanded suspiciously. “If you tricked me into helping you with the dishes, I’m going straight home!”

“Oh, relax,” Penny laughed. “The dishes were done hours ago. We’re going to help out the Old Wishing Well.”

“I wish you would explain what you mean.”

“It’s this way, Lou. The Breens are as poor as church mice, and they need food. At the Marborough place this afternoon Rhoda made a wish—that her family would have more to eat. Well, it’s up to us to make that wish come true.”

“You’re preparing a basket of food to take out to the camp?”

“That’s the general idea. We can leave it on the doorstep of the trailer and slip away without revealing our identity.”

“Why, your idea is a splendid one!” Louise suddenly approved. “Of course Mrs. Weems said it would be all right to fix the basket of food?”

“Oh, she won’t mind. I know she would want me to do it if she were here.”

Swinging open the porcelain door of the ice box, Penny peered into the illuminated shelves. The refrigerator was unusually well stocked, for Mrs. Weems had baked that day in anticipation of week-end appetites. Without hesitation, Penny handed out a meat loaf, a plum pudding, bunches of radishes, scrubbed carrots, celery, and a dozen fresh eggs.

“Dash down to the basement and get some canned goods from the supply shelf,” she instructed Louise briskly. “We ought to have jelly too, and a sample of Mrs. Weems’ strawberry preserves.”

“You do the dashing, if you don’t mind,” her chum demurred. “I prefer not to become too deeply involved in this affair.”

“Oh, Mrs. Weems won’t care—not a bit,” Penny returned as she started for the basement. “She’s the most charitable person in the world.”

In a minute she was back, her arms laden with heavy canned goods. Finding a market basket in the garage, the girls packed the food, wrapping perishables carefully in waxed paper.

“There! We can’t crowd another thing into the basket,” Penny declared at last.

“The ice-box is as bare as Mother Hubbard’s cupboard,” Louise rejoined. “What will the Parker family eat tomorrow?”

“Oh, Mrs. Weems can buy more. She’ll be a good sport about it, I know.”

With no misgivings, Penny carried the heavy basket to the garage and loaded it into the car. Discovering that the gasoline gauge registered low, she skillfully siphoned an extra two gallons from her father’s car, and then announced that she was ready to go.

“Don’t you ever patronize a filling station?” Louise inquired as her chum headed the automobile down the street.

“Oh, now and then,” Penny grinned. “After that cheque I wrote for the Breens’ rent, I’m feeling rather poor. Dad is much better able to buy gasoline than I, and he won’t begrudge me a couple of gallons.”

“You certainly have your family well trained,” Louise sighed. “I wish I knew how you get by with it.”

The car toured through Riverview and presently arrived at the entrance of the Dorset Tourist Camp. An attendant stopped the girls, but allowed them to drive on when he learned that they did not wish to make reservations for a cabin. Penny drew up not far from where the Breen trailer was parked.

“A light is still burning there,” Louise observed. “We’ll have to be careful if we don’t want to be seen.”

As Penny lifted the heavy basket from the rear compartment of the automobile, she noticed another car standing not far away. It looked somewhat familiar and in studying it more intently she noted the license plate.

“Why, it’s that same Texas car!” she exclaimed. “Those men must still be here.”

“What car? What men?”

“Oh, this evening two strangers inquired the way to this tourist camp,” Penny explained briefly. “They said they were looking for Ted Wiegand.”

“Friends of his?”

“I don’t know who they were or what they wanted. It struck me as odd though, that they would come from such a long distance.”

“Whoever they are, they must be at the trailer now,” Louise said after a moment. “Should we leave the basket on the doorstep or wait until they’ve gone?”

“We can’t very well wait, Lou. They might decide to stay half the night.”

Carrying the basket between them, the girls moved noiselessly toward the trailer. Blinds had not been drawn and they could see Mr. and Mrs. Breen, Rhoda, and the two men seated at the table carrying on an animated discussion.

“I wish I knew why those Texas fellows came here,” Penny remarked thoughtfully. “If we wanted to find out—”

“I’ll not listen at any window!” Louise cut her short.

“I was merely thinking we could. Of course, I never would do such an ill-bred thing.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” Louise replied with emphasis. “For a very good reason too! I shall take you away before temptation sways you.”

Depositing the basket of food on the trailer doorstep, she forcibly pulled Penny to the waiting car.