The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (40 page)

Penny sighed deeply. Pocketing the yellow card, she squeezed behind the steering wheel.

“By the way, whatever became of Lena?” Louise asked curiously, slamming the car door. She glanced sharply at Penny.

“Oh, she’s changed hands twice. Now she’s at Jake Harriman’s lot, advertised for fifty dollars. Want to drive past there?”

“Not particularly. But I’ll do it for your sake, pet.”

As the car started toward the Harriman Car Lot, Louise stole an amused glance at her chum. Penny was not unattractive, even when submerged in gloom. Upon the slightest provocation, her blue eyes sparkled; her smile when she chose to turn it on, would melt a man of stone. She dressed carelessly, brushed a mop of curly, golden hair only if it suited her fancy, yet somehow achieved an appearance envied by her friends.

The automobile drew up at the curb.

“There’s Lena.” Penny pointed to an ancient blue coupe with battered fenders which stood on the crowded second-hand lot. A
For Sale
sign on the windshield informed the public that the auto might be bought for forty dollars.

“Lena’s value seems to have dropped ten dollars,” commented Louise. “My, I had forgotten how wrecky the old thing looks!”

“Don’t speak of her so disrespectfully, Lou. All she needs is a good waxing and a little paint.”

The girls crossed the lot to inspect the coupe. As they were gazing at it, Jake, the lot owner, sidled toward them, beaming ingratiatingly.

“Good afternoon, young ladies. May I interest you in a car?”

“No, thank you,” replied Penny. “We’re just looking.”

“Now here is a fine car,” went on the dealer, indicating the coupe. “A 1934 model—good mechanical condition; nice rubber; a lively battery and fair paint. You can’t go wrong, ladies, not at a price of forty dollars.”

“But will it run?” asked Louise, smothering a giggle.

“There’s thousands of miles of good service left in this little car, ladies. And the price is only fifteen dollars above the junk value.”

The thought of Leaping Lena coming to an inglorious end in a junk yard was disconcerting to Penny. She walked slowly about the car, inspecting it from every angle.

“Forty dollars is too much for this old wreck,” she said firmly.

“Why, Penny, such disrespect!” mocked Louise.

Penny frowned down her chum. Sentiment and business were two different matters.

“What
will
you give?” inquired the car owner alertly.

“Not a cent over twenty-five.”

Louise clutched Penny’s arm, trying to pull her away.

“Have you lost your mind?” she demanded. “What could you do with this old car when you already have a new one?”

Penny did not listen. She kept gazing at the coupe as one who had been hypnotized.

“I’d take it in a minute, only I don’t have twenty-five dollars in cash.”

“How much can you raise?” asked the dealer.

“Not more than five dollars, I’m afraid. But my father is publisher of the
Riverview Star
.”

Jake Harriman’s brows unknitted as if by magic.

“Anthony Parker’s daughter,” he said, smiling. “That’s plenty good enough for me. I’ll sell you the best car on the lot for nothing down. Just come inside the office and sign a note for the amount. Will that be okay?”

Disregarding Louise’s whispered protests, Penny assured the dealer that the arrangement would be perfectly satisfactory. The note was signed, and five dollars in cash given to bind the bargain.

“I’ll throw in a few gallons of gas,” the man offered.

However, Jake Harriman’s gasoline did not seem suited to Leaping Lena’s dyspeptic ignition. She coughed feebly once or twice and then died for the day.

“You have acquired a bargain, I must say!” exclaimed Louise. “You can’t even get the car home.”

“Yes, I can,” Penny insisted. “I’ll tow her. A little tinkering and she’ll be as good as new.”

“You’re optimistic, to say the least,” laughed Louise.

Penny produced a steel cable from the tool kit of the maroon sedan, and Jake Harriman coupled the two cars together.

“Penny, what will your father say when he learns of this?” Louise inquired dubiously. “On top of a parking ticket, too!”

“Oh, I’ll meet that problem when I come to it,”Penny answered carelessly. “Louise, you steer Lena. I’ll drive the sedan.”

Shaking her head sadly, Louise climbed into the old car. Although Penny was her dearest friend she was forced to admit that the girl often did bewildering things. Penny’s mother was dead and for many years she had been raised by a housekeeper, Mrs. Maud Weems. Secretly Louise wondered if it were not the housekeeper who had been trained. At any rate, Penny enjoyed unusual freedom for a high school girl, and her philosophy of life was summed up in one headline: ACTION.

Penny put the sedan in gear, towing the coupe slowly down the street. The two vehicles traveled several blocks before a hill loomed ahead. Penny considered turning back, and then decided that the cars could make the steep climb easily.

However, midway up the hill the sedan suddenly leaped forward as if released from a heavy burden. At the same instant Lena’s horn gave a sharp warning blast.

Glancing into the mirror, Penny was horrified to see Leaping Lena careening backwards down the steep slope. The tow rope had unfastened.

Bringing the sedan to the curb, she jerked on the hand brake, and sprang to the pavement. Louise, bewildered and frightened, was trying desperately to control the coupe. The car gathered speed, wobbling crazily toward the line of traffic.

“Guide it! Guide it!” shouted Penny. “Put on the brakes!”

So confused was Louise that she lost her head completely. Straight toward a long black limousine rolled the coupe. The chauffeur spun his wheel, but too late. There was a loud crash as the two cars came together.

Penny raced down the hill to help her chum from the coupe.

“Are you hurt?” she asked anxiously.

Louise shook her head, wailing: “Penny Parker, just see what has happened now! You never should have bought this stupid old wreck!”

Both the chauffeur and an elderly gentleman who carried a cane, alighted from the limousine. With grim faces they surveyed the fender which had been crushed.

“The owner is Mr. Kohl,” Louise whispered nervously. “You know, president of the First National Bank.”

The banker did not recognize either of the girls. Addressing them both, he made several pointed remarks to the effect that irresponsible young people were very thoughtless to endanger the property of others with their ancient “jalopies.”

“It was entirely my fault, Mr. Kohl,” acknowledged Penny meekly. “Of course, I’ll pay for the fender.”

The banker softened somewhat, gazing at the girls in a thoughtful, more friendly way.

“Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, Mr. Kohl.” Penny was quick to press for an advantage. “Why, I am one of your best customers. Ever since I was six years old I’ve trusted your bank with my savings!”

“I remember you now,” said Mr. Kohl, smiling. “You’re the Parker girl.”

Adding a mental note that Anthony Parker actually was one of the bank’s largest depositors, he decided it would be excellent policy to make light of the accident. A moment later as a policeman came to investigate, he insisted that the incident had been unavoidable and that it would be a mistake to arrest the girls.

“Mr. Kohl, you were noble, absolutely noble,” declared Penny gratefully after the policeman had gone. “The least I can do is to pay for the damage.”

“I’ll stop at Sherman’s Garage and have a new fender put on,” the banker responded. “The bill can be sent to your father.”

After Mr. Kohl had driven away, Louise helped Penny hook the coupe to the sedan once more. She remarked cuttingly:

“You’ve done right well today. One parking ticket, a bill for twenty-five dollars, and another one coming up. Just what
will
your father say?”

“Plenty,” sighed Penny. “I wonder if it might not be a good idea to break the news by easy stages? Perhaps he’ll take it more calmly if I telephone.”

“Don’t be too sure.”

The street was a narrow, dingy one with few business houses. Noticing a Japanese store which bore a sign, “Kano’s Curio Shop,” she started toward it, intending to seek a public telephone.

Louise seized her arm. “Penny, you’re not going in there!”

“Why not?”

“This is Dorr Street—one of the worst places in Riverview.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” chuckled Penny. “It’s perfectly safe by daylight. I’ll go alone if you’re afraid.”

Thus challenged, Louise indignantly denied that she was afraid, and accompanied her chum.

The door of Mr. Kano’s shop stood invitingly open. Pausing on the threshold, the girls caught a pleasant aroma of sandalwood.

So quietly did Louise and Penny enter that the elderly, white-haired shop owner did not immediately see them. He sat behind a high counter, engrossed in something he was sewing.

“Good afternoon,” said Penny pleasantly.

The Japanese glanced up quickly and as quickly thrust his work beneath the counter. Recovering poise, he bowed to the girls.

“May we use your telephone if you have one?”Penny requested.

“So very sorry, Miss,” the Japanese responded, bowing again. “Have no telephone.”

Penny nodded, absently fingering a tray of tiny ivory figures. The Japanese watched her, and mistaking curiosity for buying interest, brought additional pieces for her to inspect. The curios were all too expensive for Penny’s purse, but after endless debate she bought a pair of wooden clogs. The shop owner padded away into a back room, intending to wrap the package for her.

Scarcely had he vanished when Penny turned excitedly to her chum.

“Lou, did you notice how funny he acted when we came in here?”

“Yes, he didn’t want us to see what he was making evidently.”

“Exactly what I thought! But we’ll fool Mr. Kano!”

Giving Louise no opportunity to protest, Penny boldly peered behind the counter.

“Here it is,” she whispered. “But
what
is it?”

Hidden in a pasteboard box lay coil upon coil of what appeared to be fine, black silk rope. Curiously, she lifted it up, exposing a network of crossbars.

“Well, of all things!” she exclaimed. “It’s a ladder, Lou! A ladder made of silk!”

CHAPTER 2

A ROPE OF SILK

Even as Penny spoke, she felt a hard, warning tug on her skirt. Quickly she turned around.

In the doorway stood the old Japanese. His smile was not pleasant to behold.

“We-we were just looking at this rope,” Penny stammered, trying to carry off the situation with dignity. “I hope you don’t mind.”

The Japanese shopkeeper gazed steadily at the girl, his face an emotionless mask. Since he spoke no word, it became increasingly evident that he regarded her with anger and suspicion.

“May I ask what use is made of this silk rope?”Penny inquired. “Do you sell it for a special purpose?”

The Japanese coldly ignored the direct questions.

“So very sorry to have kept you waiting,” he said softly. “Your change please.”

Penny knew that she deserved the rebuke. Accepting the package and coins, she and Louise hastily left the shop. Not until they were some distance away did the latter speak.

“Penny, you would do a trick like that! One of these days your curiosity will get us into serious trouble.”

“At least I learned what was hidden behind the counter,” chuckled Penny. “But that Jap didn’t seem very eager to answer my questions.”

“Can you blame him? It certainly was none of our affair what he kept inside the box.”

“Perhaps not, Lou, but you must admit he acted strangely when we first entered the shop. You know—as if we had surprised him in a questionable act.”

“He naturally was startled. We came in so quietly.”

“All the same, I’m not one bit sorry I looked behind the counter,” Penny maintained. “I like to learn about things.”

“I agree with you there!”

“Lou, what purpose do you suppose silk ladders serve? Who uses them and why?”

“Now, how should I know? Penny, you ask enough questions to be master of ceremonies on a radio quiz program.”

“I can’t recall ever having seen a silk ladder before,”Penny resumed, undisturbed by her chum’s quip. “Would acrobats use them, do you think?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Louise answered. “If I were in your shoes I should worry about more serious matters than those connected with a mere silk ladder.”

“The world is filled with serious things,” sighed Penny. “But mystery! One doesn’t run into it every day.”

“You do,” said Louise brutally. “If a stranger twitches his ears twice you immediately suspect him of villainy.”