The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (269 page)

“Not a canopied bed!”

“Reckon it was,” Mr. Cotton answered carelessly. “Well, see you tomorrow if I’m not called back to the monastery to do another rush job! So long!”

Before the startled Penny could ask another question, he hurried off down the darkening street.

CHAPTER 15

FOOTPRINTS IN THE SNOW

Jake Cotton’s careless remark about the canopied bed at the monastery filled Penny with deep excitement.

“Perhaps Old Julia isn’t as crazy as she seems!” she thought. “The place does have a canopied bed, and she may have been trying to tell me something about it!”

Now more than ever, Penny was determined to revisit the monastery that night. Many unanswered questions plagued her. Not only was she curious to witness a cult ceremony, but also she wished to learn the identity of the strange girl who lived on the premises. And she hoped to view the chapel room with the freight lift and if possible, to see the canopied bed of which Old Julia had prattled so unintelligibly.

Hastening into the house, Penny sought Mrs. Weems in the kitchen.

“Anything I can do to help with dinner?” she inquired.

The housekeeper, in the act of putting a kettle of potatoes on the fire to boil, eyed her with instant suspicion.

“And where do you plan to go when dinner is over, may I ask?” she inquired.

“Only out to the monastery.”

“Again! You came from there not a half hour ago!”

“Oh, Mr. DeWitt assigned me to cover a cult meeting tonight,” Penny assured her hastily.

“And your father approves?”

“Haven’t seen him yet. He ought to be coming home any minute now.”

“Your father telephoned he will be detained,” Mrs. Weems explained. “I doubt he’ll be home before nine o’clock. So the monastery expedition is out of the question!”

“Oh, Mrs. Weems!” Penny was aghast. “I promised Mr. DeWitt! He’s depending on the story.”

“That’s neither here nor there,” the housekeeper replied, though she softened a little. “I simply can’t allow you to go to the monastery alone at night—”

“Oh, I’ll start right away—just as soon as I can grab a bite of dinner,” Penny broke in eagerly. “If Father Benedict refuses me permission to see the ceremony, then I can come back.”

“You can, but will you?”

“Eventually, at least,” Penny grinned. “Oh, Mrs. Weems, have a heart! Can’t I telephone Dad somewhere?”

The housekeeper shook her head. “He’s in an important meeting and can’t be disturbed until it’s over.”

“But you will let me go? I won’t be gone long.”

“Oh, I suppose I’ll have to give in,” Mrs. Weems sighed. “I usually do. I’ll hurry dinner along so you can get back early.”

While the housekeeper fried pork chops, Penny set the table and prepared a salad. When the meal was ready she ate with a haste that shocked Mrs. Weems.

“I declare, your table manners become worse every day!” she protested. “Your mind isn’t on what you are doing.”

“It’s on what I’m about to do!” Penny chuckled, getting up from the table. “I don’t want any dessert tonight. See you later!”

Donning a heavy coat and slipping a flashlight into one of the deep pockets, she left the house.

The night was dark, for as yet there was no moon. Penny drove rapidly through Riverview and along the lonely road which led to the monastery.

Despite the speed of her car, she soon noted that another automobile was overtaking her. The girl pressed her foot a little more firmly on the gasoline pedal, but still the other car gained.

She was driving forty-five miles an hour when the big black car passed her traveling at least sixty. On the narrow road, Penny was crowded dangerously close to the ditch.

“The nerve of some people!” she muttered in disgust. “No wonder there are so many highway accidents!”

Penny caught only a fleeting glimpse of the black car’s driver, a man hunched low over the steering wheel.

“Why, that looked like Winkey!” she thought. “And another man was with him in the front seat! I wonder if it was Father Benedict?”

Penny speeded up but found it impossible to keep the car in view. When she skidded at a curve, she wisely slowed down and abandoned the chase.

Approaching the monastery ten minutes later, the girl decided to park a short distance from the entrance gate. She left the car at the roadside beyond view of the gatehouse, and tramped on through the slush and snow.

Coming within sight of the ancient building, she paused.

The big gate stood ajar, and on the driveway stood the black automobile which had passed her car down the road.

“So it was Winkey!” she thought.

At the gateway Penny gazed carefully about the grounds. The hunchback was nowhere to be seen and the gatehouse remained deserted.

“So far, so good!” she encouraged herself. “Now if only Father Benedict doesn’t refuse to let me into the house!”

Thinking over what she would say to the monk, Penny walked slowly up the driveway. Nearly all of the snow had melted, leaving large puddles to be avoided.

However, near where the black car had been parked, a section of yard was shadowed from the sun during the day. Here the damp snow remained in deep banks.

As Penny passed the car, she noticed a double set of men’s footprints leading from the parked automobile toward the rear of the premises.

Also, she observed long marks which indicated the two men had dragged a heavy object over the snow.

“I suppose it was a sack of potatoes or supplies for the monastery,” she mused. “It must be a job keeping this place in operation. Riverview stores never would make deliveries so far out.”

Windows of the monastery were dark, though far inside the building dim lights could be seen. With a feeling akin to dread Penny went to the door and rapped with the brass knocker.

Now that she actually was embarked upon adventure, she rather regretted she had promised Mr. DeWitt a feature story. By night the monastery seemed more austere and unfriendly.

Minutes elapsed and no one came to answer the door. Impatiently, Penny clanged the knocker several times in rapid succession. Only then did she hear approaching footsteps.

At last the big door swung outward to reveal Father Benedict. His eyes narrowed with displeasure as he saw her.

“Well?” he inquired. Penny observed that he was a little breathless from having hastened.

“I don’t suppose you expected to see me here again so soon!” she began with forced gaiety. “Do you mind if I witness the cult ceremony tonight?”

“We discussed that this afternoon. I am very sorry—” Father Benedict began to close the door.

“I want to write a little story about it for the newspaper,”Penny went on, talking fast. “If you’ll only—”

The door closed in her face. Distinctly she heard a key grate in the lock.

“Well, how do you like that?” Penny muttered angrily. “Who does he think he is, anyhow?”

She started away, only to pause and gaze thoughtfully back at the darkened windows. To return to the newspaper office without a story would be humiliating. A good reporter never failed.

“There must be some way to see that ceremony!” she reasoned. “Perhaps I can slip in through a rear door.”

Penny circled the building, taking care to avoid snow patches where revealing footprints would be left behind. She crossed through the old church-yard with its toppled, weather-stained stones, passing close along the church wall.

Coming to a small arching door, she tried the knob.

“Locked!” she muttered in disgust. “One would think this place were a jail!”

Half way around the building Penny found another door which evidently opened into the kitchen. It too was locked.

“I’m out of luck!” she decided, losing heart.

As she turned away intending to return to her car, she noticed a window at shoulder level, opening from a kitchen wall. A ventilator screen had been inserted to permit free circulation of outside air.

Penny carefully studied the window. A crack between the screen and window frame encouraged her to hope that the mesh might be removed.

Obviously, the plan had disadvantages. In removing the screen, she might make too much noise and be detected.

Furthermore, a wide patch of snow separated her from the window. She could not reach the wall without leaving a trail of telltale footprints.

Then an idea flashed into Penny’s mind. How easy it would be to make deceptive prints in the snow merely by walking
backwards
!

“If Father Benedict discovers my shoetracks, he’ll think someone from inside the building crawled out the window!” she chuckled. “At least I hope he will!”

Now completely dedicated to the adventure, the girl carefully backed toward the window. She took each step slowly to make a distinct print.

Reaching the window, she tried the ventilator screen. To her delight, it folded like an accordian when she pushed one side against the edge of the window. Making no sound, she removed it.

Listening a moment to make certain no one was close by, Penny raised the window higher. Then on strong arms she swung herself up and over the ledge.

The girl found herself in a large kitchen lighted only by a smoldering log in a great cavern of a fireplace.

Rows of copper pans hung on the smoke-stained walls. In a huge black kettle, watery soup simmered over the fire.

Penny turned to close the window and stepped squarely on the tail of a drowsing cat.

“Ye-eow!” screeched the frightened animal.

Penny huddled against the wall, listening. Her heart sank as she heard heavy footsteps in the passageway. The howling cat had brought someone to investigate!

Frantically, the girl glanced about the room. Huge cupboards which rose from the floor to the ceiling offered the only possible hiding place in the otherwise barren kitchen.

Pulling open one of the doors, she saw an interior cluttered with greasy pans and dishes. With desperate haste, she tried the adjoining door. This cupboard was empty except for a few dusty newspapers.

Penny stepped inside, softly closing the door. Only then, as she heard someone enter the kitchen, did she realize that in her haste to hide, she had forgotten to close the window.

CHAPTER 16

THE KITCHEN CUPBOARD

Into the kitchen lumbered Old Julia. She picked up the whimpering cat and began to croon endearments.

Penny breathed easier. The next instant she became tense again as she heard another person enter the room.

“What was that noise, Julia?” a man demanded harshly.

Penny recognized Father Benedict’s voice.

“Only the cat, Father.”

“Why is the room so cold? Oh, I see! Against my orders you opened the window again!”

“No, I didn’t!” Old Julia defended herself. “I hain’t been near a door or window since you told me not to talk to nobody nor let ’em in. I don’t talk to nobody—only Patsy, the cat. Nice Patsy!”

“You’re a stupid old woman! What made the cat howl?”

“I dunno. She must’ve seen a mouse.”

“Cats don’t howl unless they are hurt! You opened the window!”

“No! No! I didn’t!” the old woman cried. “Don’t strike me! I’m telling you the truth.”

Penny heard the monk walk to the window. Her heart skipped a beat when he said: “Perhaps you are, Julia! I can see footprints in the snow! Someone crawled out through this window! You helped that girl get away!”

“I didn’t! I didn’t!” whimpered Julia. “I dunno how the window got open.”

The monk seemed to be talking to himself as he went on: “I knew that girl would make trouble the minute I set eyes on her! If it hadn’t been for her interference, everything would have gone just as planned! Now she’ll have to pay for her folly!”

For a moment Penny thought Father Benedict was speaking of her. Then it came to her that he must be referring to the dark-haired girl she had seen briefly on the day of her first visit to the monastery.

“This isn’t the only time she’s slipped out of here!” the monk went on angrily. “But it will be the last!”

Father Benedict rang a bell. While waiting for it to be answered, he slammed down the kitchen window.

Soon Winkey, the hunchback, appeared. “You called me, boss?” he inquired.

“I did,” said the monk. “And kindly remember not to call me ‘boss.’ Father Benedict is a more respectful term.”

“That’s a laugh,” rejoined Winkey rudely. “What did you call me for?”

“Look out the window and see for yourself.”

“Footprints!”

“Going away from the monastery,” Father Benedict added. “That girl has run off again! This time when she gets back, see that she is punished.”

The command seemed to startle the gateman for he asked dubiously: “You don’t mean—”

“I do.” The monk’s words dropped like chips of steel. “The usual punishment.”