CHAPTER 15 MRS. RHETT’S ILLNESS

News that a violent storm was sweeping toward Riverview held the front pages throughout Monday, and became almost the only topic of conversation on the streets.

Skies remained sunny, however, and presently fears were somewhat quieted by national wire service reports that the hurricane was believed to be veering eastward. Government observers now were quoted as predicting only the edge of the hurricane would strike the coast, and inland states might escape unscathed.

Accordingly, business went on much the same as usual. Lulled by the knowledge that never in the history of Riverview had a hurricane struck, the citizens now and then glanced at the falling barometer, but otherwise gave the matter little thought.

Although the disappearance of Hamilton Rhett had been crowded completely from the front pages, Penny did not lose interest in the case. Twice she telephoned the mansion, only to receive no response. She did not visit the estate, for Editor DeWitt kept her busy with special assignments.

After school Tuesday, Penny was sent to the Hanover Steamship Co. offices to interview a tugboat captain. Enroute she ran into Louise Sidell. Her chum regarded her accusingly.

“A great pal you turned out to be, Penny Parker! Remember—you left me standing at the door of the First National.”

“I’m terribly sorry, Lou,” Penny apologized. “I was inside much longer than I expected to be and when I came out, you were gone.”

“You never even telephoned to tell me what happened, you egg! I read all about it in the papers.”

“You may have read part of the story, but not all,” Penny corrected. “I called for you on Sunday when you were out, and since then I’ve been busier than a hop toad. Right now I’m on my way to the steamship office. Want to come along?”

“I suppose it’s the only way I’ll get any information out of you,” Louise grumbled, falling into step.

As they walked toward the docks, she asked leading questions and, by the time they reached the steamship offices, had gleaned most of the story.

“So you believe Mr. Rhett may be somewhere in Riverview?” she mused.

“Jerry and I thought so at first, but we’ve nearly abandoned the idea. The only clue we uncovered led to a dead end.”

Pausing near the tugboat office, the girls stood for a moment watching waves pound against the docks. A chill, persistent wind had sprung up which penetrated their light clothing.

“B-r! It’s getting colder!” Louise shivered, huddling close to Penny. “Maybe that storm the newspapers predicted is heading in this direction after all!”

Entering the tugboat office, the girls sought Captain Dolphin. The genial old fellow had been interviewed so many times that he knew the story of his life almost by heart and recited it with great gusto. Penny took a few notes and arose to leave.

“What do you think of the weather, captain?” she inquired casually.

His answer surprised her. “We don’t like the look of ’er here,” he said, frowning. “Barometer’s been falling all day. I’m callin’ in all my tugs off the river.”

“Then you believe the storm actually may strike here?”

“We’re not takin’ any chances,” replied the captain. “Once when I was a young twirp shippin’ on a freighter, a hurricane struck us off the Florida Keys. We made port, but it was by the skin of a shark’s tooth! Never want to see another storm like that one!”

Penny pocketed her notebook, and the girls went outside into the rising wind. More conscious now of its icy bite, they huddled for a moment in the shelter of the office doorway.

Only a few doors away stood the Hartmann Steamship Company offices, whose large river boats plied up the Coast and on to distant world ports.

Through the plate glass window of the ticket office, Penny’s attention was attracted to a slightly stooped man in rumpled clothing who was talking to the man in charge. He turned slightly, and as she saw his profile, she was struck by his remarkable resemblance to the newspaper photograph of Hamilton Rhett.

“Lou, see that man in the ticket office!” she exclaimed. “Doesn’t he look like the missing banker?”

Louise studied the stranger a moment and replied: “How should I know? I’ve never seen him.”

“Surely you saw the picture the Star published!”

“Yes, but I didn’t pay much attention.”

The man now was leaving the ticket office. Impulsively, Penny stepped forward to intercept him. “I beg your pardon—” she began.

Alert, wary eyes bore into her own as the stranger gazed straight at her for an instant. He said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

“Aren’t you Hamilton Rhett?” Penny asked, deciding to make a direct approach.

“No, you are mistaken,” the man replied.

Pushing past Penny, he went hurriedly on down the street.

“You see!” commented Louise. “That’s what you get for jumping to such rash conclusions!”

Penny, however, was far from convinced that she had made a mistake.

“If that man wasn’t Mr. Rhett, it was his double! Lou, did you notice if he wore a serpent ring?”

“He kept both hands in his pockets.”

“That’s so, he did!” agreed Penny. “Wait here for me! I’ll ask the ticket agent a few questions!”

She was inside the office perhaps five minutes. When she returned, visibly excited, she glanced anxiously up the street. The stranger had vanished from view down the short street, apparently having turned at the first corner.

“We must overtake him!” Penny cried. “I have a hunch we let Mr. Rhett pull a fast one!”

Hurriedly, the girls walked to the corner. The stranger was nowhere to be seen. Whether he had disappeared into a building, down an alley or another street, they had no way of knowing. Penny stopped two pedestrians to inquire, but no one had noticed the man.

“We’ve lost him!” she exclaimed to Louise. “How disgusting!”

“What did the ticket man tell you, Penny?”

“That the man was inquiring about steamship accommodations to New Orleans, and on to South America. He didn’t give his name.”

“Then how can you be sure it was Mr. Rhett?”

“It’s only a hunch. But the agent said the man was wearing a ring—he didn’t notice the type.”

“Any number of men wear rings,” Louise scoffed. “Penny, aren’t you indulging in a little wishful thinking? You want to find Mr. Rhett so badly you’re letting your imagination run riot.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Penny admitted with a sigh. “Anyway, we’ve lost the fellow, so we may as well forget it.”

Saying goodbye to Louise, she hastened off to the Star office to write up the interview with the tugboat captain. However, she could not put her mind on her work, and after making three false starts, she decided to postpone the story until after dinner.

Fortified by a good meal, she wrote the story much easier, but Penny was far from satisfied when she turned her finished copy in at the desk.

“Guess I’m off the beam tonight,” she remarked to Jerry. “It took me an age to write that story.”

Penny glanced at the clock. Time had passed swiftly for it was now after nine.

“You look tired,” observed the night editor. “There’s nothing more for you to do. Why don’t you skip out?”

“Guess I will,” agreed Penny, reaching for her hat. “I have a geometry test coming up tomorrow.”

She was through the swinging barrier, and half way down the hall when Jerry called to her: “Telephone for you, Penny.”

With a sigh, she returned to take the call. Weariness vanished and she became wide-awake as she recognized Lorinda Rhett’s voice at the other end of the line.

“Miss Parker?” the girl inquired in an agitated voice.

“Speaking.”

“I’m sorry to bother you,” Lorinda went on, “but could you possibly come to our house right away?”

“Why, I think so,” Penny said, instantly divining that something was amiss at the mansion. “Is anything wrong?”

“Oh, yes! Everything! I can’t tell you over the phone. Just come as quickly as you can. I need your help.”

After hanging up the receiver, Penny related the conversation to the night editor. “I don’t know exactly what the call means,” she added. “Possibly, Lorinda has learned something about her missing stepfather. If so, it should make a good story!”

“Give us a ring from the mansion if any thing develops,” the night editor instructed. “Better take Jerry along with you. No telling what may turn up.”

Jerry already was on his feet, reaching for his hat. His car was parked on the street. Traffic flow had dwindled, enabling them to reach the mansion in record time.

The lower floor of the Rhett home was dark, but on the second floor, nearly all the rooms were ablaze with light.

“Wonder what’s up!” mused Jerry, parking the car across the street.

“Lorinda is expecting me alone,” Penny said. “Maybe it would be better for you to wait here until I have a chance to talk to her.”

“Sure. Just signal if you need me.”

Jerry switched off the car lights and settled himself for a lengthy vigil.

Penny ran up the walk and pounded on the door. In a moment, she heard footsteps; the living room light flashed on; then the door was opened by Lorinda.

“Is anything the matter?” Penny inquired anxiously.

“It’s Mother,” Lorinda explained. “She’s very ill. We have the doctor now. I’m dreadfully worried.”

Penny, at a loss to understand how she could be of help, nodded sympathetically.

“Come with me upstairs,” Lorinda requested. “I want you to see and talk to Mother, and then tell me what you think.”

“What seems to be the trouble?”

“She refuses food and she has rapidly failed since you last saw her. I’ve tried to reason with her, but it is useless. She is convinced she has a fatal illness and will die!”

Deeply troubled, Penny followed Lorinda upstairs to the luxuriously furnished bed chamber. Celeste, in white starched uniform, was hovering anxiously over the bed where Mrs. Rhett lay. Lorinda’s mother looked ten years older than when Penny had last seen her. Her face was pale and shriveled, her eyes listless.

“I don’t want the food!” she said peevishly to Celeste, pushing aside a spoonful of custard which was held to her lips. “It is useless to eat.”

On the other side of the bed stood a stout, middle-aged man whom Lorinda introduced as Doctor Everett, a specialist.

“Mrs. Rhett,” he said sternly, “you are acting very foolish in refusing food. I have made a careful examination and can find nothing whatsoever the matter.”

“I didn’t call you to this house,” the woman retorted. “Please go away and leave me alone. One has a right to die in peace.”

“You will not die,” said the doctor patiently. “Your illness is only a fancy of the mind.”

Mrs. Rhett tossed her head on the pillow. “Go away!” she ordered. “It was my daughter who called you here—not I. No doctor can be of the slightest aid to me.”

“Not unless you are willing to cooperate. Now I suggest that a trained nurse be called in to—”

“A trained nurse!” cried Celeste, straightening from the bedside. “Only I will tend my mistress! We will have no stranger in the household!”

“I want Celeste,” agreed Mrs. Rhett, clinging to the servant’s hand. “She is the only one who understands my ailment. Celeste will take care of me—no one else.”

The doctor shrugged. “Very well, it was only a suggestion. I should like to help you, but under the circumstance, there is nothing I can do. Good evening.”

As the doctor reached for his black bag, Lorinda moved quickly across the room. Her eyes pleaded with him to understand.

“Doctor Everett, you’ll come again tomorrow?” she requested.

He smiled, but shook his head. “You might call Doctor Fellows, a psychiatrist,” he advised. “There is nothing I can do.”

While Lorinda accompanied the doctor to the front door, Penny remained in the bedroom. No sooner had the physician left than Celeste moved close to the bed, muttering:

“Good! He is gone! Only a fool would believe a doctor could help you. Until the ouange is broken, food will only turn to poison in your body! You will weaken and die. But Celeste will save you—Celeste will find a way to break the evil spell.”