The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (132 page)

As they watched anxiously, the driver recovered control of the machine. He straightened out and brought the truck to a standstill farther up the road.

Penny seized her chum’s hand. “Come on, Lou! He’s going to give us a ride!”

Before they could reach the truck, the driver lowered the cab window. Thrusting his head through the opening he bellowed angrily:

“What you tryin’ to do? Wreck my truck?”

Giving the girls no opportunity to reply, he closed the cab window.

Penny saw that the man was intending to drive on. “Wait!” she called frantically. “Please give us a ride! We’re lost and half frozen!”

The man heard for he flashed an ugly smile. Shifting gears, he drove away.

“Of all the shabby tricks, that’s the worst!” Penny said furiously. “It wasn’t our fault his old truck skidded.”

“But it is our fault we’re lost on this road,” Louise added. “How are we ever to find the listening post?”

Penny leaned against the leeward side of a giant pine. Already it was so dark that she could see only a few feet down the road. There were no houses, no lights, nothing to guide her.

“Penny, are we really lost?” Louise demanded, suddenly afraid.

“We really, truly are,” her chum answered in a quavering voice. “The post must be somewhere near here, but we’ll never find it. All we can do is try to get back to the car.”

CHAPTER 2

AT THE LISTENING POST

Penny’s courage did not long forsake her. She had suggested to Louise that they return to the stripped car, but she knew that would not solve their problem. Staring up the dark road, she remarked that they must be close to the summit of the hill.

“Then why not keep on?” urged Louise. “We set out to find the listening post, so let’s do it!”

They trudged on up the winding road. At intervals, in an attempt to restore circulation to numbed feet, they ran a few steps. Snow fell steadily, whipping and stinging their faces.

Gasping, half-winded, they kept doggedly on. Finally they struggled into a clearing at the top of the hill. Penny wiped her eyes and gazed down through a gap in the white-coated evergreens. A quarter of the way down the slope on the other side appeared a glowing dot of light.

“I’m afraid it’s only a cabin,” she said dubiously. “It can’t be the airplane listening post.”

“Let’s go there anyway,” advised Louise. “We can warm ourselves and ask how to get back to civilization.”

They pushed on, still following the road. Downhill walking was much easier and at intervals they were encouraged by a glimpse of the light.

Then, rounding a bend of the road, the girls came to an artistic, newly constructed iron fence, banked heavily with snow. The fence led to a high gate, and behind the gate loomed a dark, sprawling house with double chimneys.

“The place is deserted!” Louise observed in disappointment. “What became of the light we’ve been following?”

“It must be farther on. This house looks as if it had been closed for the winter.”

Penny went to the gate and rattled a heavy chain which held it in place. Peering through the palings, she could see an unshoveled driveway which curved gracefully to a pillared porch. The spacious grounds were dotted with evergreens and shrubs, so layered with snow that they resembled scraggly ghosts.

“Wonder who owns this place?” speculated Louise.

“Don’t know,” Penny answered, turning away. “In fact, I don’t recall ever having seen it before.”

Her words carried special significance to Louise.

“If you’ve never seen this house before, then we’re on a strange road! Penny, we never will find the listening post!”

“I’m beginning to suspect it myself,” Penny admitted grimly. “But we must keep plodding on. That light can’t be far ahead.”

Turning their backs upon the gloomy estate, they again braved the penetrating wind. Soon Louise lost her footing and fell. She remained in a dispirited little heap until Penny pulled her off the ice.

“Let’s keep going, Lou,” she urged. “It won’t be long now.”

Louise allowed Penny to pull her along. They rounded a curve in the road, and there, miraculously, the lighted cabin rose before them.

“At last!” exulted Louise. “The Promised Land!”

Staggering up a shoveled path, they pounded on the cabin door. An old man, who held a kerosene lamp, responded promptly.

“Come in, come in!” he invited heartily. “Why, you look half frozen.”

“Looks aren’t deceitful either,” Penny laughed shakily.

As the girls went into the warm room a little whirlpool of wind and snow danced ahead of them. Quickly the old man closed the door. He made places for Penny and Louise at the stove and tossed in a heavy stick of wood.

“Bad night to be out,” he commented cheerfully.

Penny agreed that it was. “We’re lost,” she volunteered, stripping off her wet mittens. “At least we can’t find the airplane listening post.”

“Why, it’s just a piece farther on,” the old man replied. “The tower’s right hard to see in this storm.”

While they thawed out, the girls explained that they had been forced to abandon their car at the Riverview Yacht Club. The old man, whose name was Henry Hammill, listened with deep sympathy to their tale of woe.

“I’ll hitch up my horses and take you to Riverview in the sled,” he offered. “That is, unless you’d rather stop at the listening tower.”

“It would save you a long trip,” Penny returned politely. “If Salt Sommers is on duty, I’m sure he’ll take us to our homes.”

In the end it was decided that Old Henry should drive the girls as far as the post. Then, if arrangements could not be made with the photographer, he would keep on to Riverview.

Warm at last, Penny and Louise declared that they were ready to start. Old Henry brought the sled to the door and the team soon was racing down the icy road. Above the jingle of bells arose occasional squeals of laughter, for the young passengers enjoyed every minute of the unexpected ride.

Presently Old Henry pulled up at the side of the road.

“There’s the tower,” he said, pointing to a two-story wooden observatory rising above the evergreens. “I’ll wait until you find out if your friend’s here.”

The girls thanked the old man for his kindly help and scrambled from the sled. They were sure their troubles were over, for they could see Salt Sommers seated at a table in the lighted tower.

A flight of steps led to a narrow catwalk which ran around three sides of the glass-enclosed house. Before Penny and Louise could hammer on the door Salt opened it.

“Well, see what the storm blew in!” the young man exclaimed. “I didn’t expect you girls to pop in on a night like this.”

“Salt, how soon will you be driving to Riverview?”Penny asked breathlessly.

“About twenty minutes. As soon as my relief shows up.”

“May we ride with you?”

“Why, sure.”

Penny called down from the catwalk to tell Old Henry he need not wait. With a friendly wave of his hand, the cabin owner drove away. The girls then followed Salt into the drafty tower room.

Curiously they gazed at their surroundings. In the center of the room stood a small coal stove. Above it a tacked sign admonished: “Keep this fire going!” There was a table, two chairs and a telephone. Also a round clock which indicated seven-forty.

Before Penny and Louise could explain why they had come, Salt held up a warning finger.

“Listen!” he exclaimed. “Wasn’t that a plane?”

He ran out on the catwalk, letting in an icy blast of wind. In a moment he came back, grinning sheepishly.

“A passenger airplane is due through here about this time. Sometimes I listen for it so hard I imagine the sound of the engine.”

“The job must get tiresome at times,” Penny ventured, making herself comfortable by the glowing stove.

“Oh, it does, but I’m glad to serve my trick. What brings you girls here on such a wild night?”

The story was quickly told. Nevertheless, by the time Penny had telephoned to Mrs. Weems, it was after eight o’clock. Footsteps pounded on the stairway. An elderly man, his hat and overcoat encrusted with snow, swept into the room.

“My relief,” said Salt, presenting Nate Adams to the girls. “I’m free to shove off now.”

“Hope you can start your car,” commented the newcomer. “It’s mighty cold, and the temperature is still dropping.”

Salt’s battered coupe was parked not far from the tower. Snow blanketed the windshield. He wiped it away and after several attempts started the engine.

“Think I’d better stop at the first garage and have more alcohol put in the radiator. No use in taking a chance.”

Salt followed the same road over which the girls had trudged an hour earlier. In passing the estate not far from Old Henry’s cabin, Penny peered with renewed interest at the big house. In the blinding snow storm she could not be sure, but she thought a light gleamed from an upstairs window.

“Salt,” she inquired, “who lives in that place?”

“Can’t tell you,” he replied, without turning his head.

“Does anyone live there now?”

“Haven’t seen anyone since I took over as observer at the tower. Nate Adams tells me the estate has a private air field. No planes have taken off or landed while I’ve been on duty.”

“I thought I saw a light just now in an upstairs window.”

“Probably a reflection from the car headlights,”Salt answered carelessly.

The car passed Old Henry’s cabin and crept on until it came to a crossroad. Several buildings were clustered on either side of the main highway.

“Guess I’ll stop at Mattie’s garage,” Salt said.

As he pulled up on a gravel runway, a masculine looking woman came to the door of the car. She was in her mid-thirties and wore a man’s coat much too large for her. The girls guessed, and correctly, thatshe was Mattie Williams, owner of the garage and filling station.

“How many will you have?” she asked Salt, briskly clearing the windshield of snow.

The photographer replied that he did not require gasoline, but wanted at least a quart of alcohol.

“Drive into the garage,” the woman instructed, opening a pair of double doors. “I’ll have Sam take care of it.”

As the car rolled into the building, Mattie shouted loudly to a stoop-shouldered man who was busy in the rear office: “Hey, Sam! Look after this customer, will you?”

Sam Burkholder slouched over to the car and began to unscrew the radiator cap. Penny and Louise assumed that the man must be Mattie’s husband, but a remark to that effect was corrected by Salt.

“Sam is Mattie’s partner,” he explained in an undertone. “It’s hard to tell which one of them is boss of the place.”

Losing interest in the pair, Penny and Louise climbed out of the coupe. They had noticed a cafe next door and thought they might go there for a cup of hot coffee.

“Go ahead,” Salt encouraged. “I’ll stay here until this job is finished, and join you.”

As the girls let themselves out the garage door, a truck pulled up in front of the cafe. They would have given it no more than a casual glance had not the driver alighted. He was a short, ruddy-faced man with a missing front tooth which made his facial expression rather grotesque. Without glancing at the girls, he entered the restaurant.

“That man!” exclaimed Louise. “Haven’t we seen him somewhere?”

“We have indeed,” agreed Penny grimly. “He’s the same driver who refused us a ride. Let’s march in there and give him a piece of our minds!”

CHAPTER 3

AN UNPLEASANT DRIVER

From outside the lighted cafe, the girls could see the truck driver slouched at one of the counter stools.

“I’m willing to go inside,” said Louise, “but why start a fuss? After all, I suppose he had a right to refuse us a ride.”

“We might have frozen to death!”

“Well, he probably didn’t realize we were lost.”

“I wish I had your charitable disposition,” Penny said with a sniff. “He heard me shout, and he drove away just to be mean.”

“Anyway, let’s forget it.”

Louise took Penny’s elbow, steering her toward the cafe. The girls had been friends since grade school days. They made an excellent pair, for Louise exerted a subduing effect upon her impulsive chum.

The only daughter of Anthony Parker, publisher of the
Star
, Penny had a talent for innocently getting into trouble. Inactivity bored her. When nothing more exciting offered, she frequently tried her hand at writing stories for her father’s newspaper. Such truly important yarns as
The Vanishing Houseboat
,
The Wishing Well
,
Behind the Green Door
, and
The Clock Strikes Thirteen
had rolled from her typewriter. Penny thoroughly enjoyed reportorial work, but best of all she loved to take an active part in the adventures she recounted.