The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (90 page)

Miss Anderson was called to the telephone. During the young woman’s absence, Penny discreetly questioned Adelle about the motor accident in which her parents had lost their lives. She was worried lest the child be upset again, but to her relief Adelle answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

“No one will believe me,” the little girl said. “Just the same, that man I saw today was the one who ran into my Daddy’s car. He had a big, gray automobile with a horn on it that played a tune.”

“A gray car?” Penny repeated thoughtfully. “I’m quite sure Mr. Blake’s sedan is dark blue. Why, you were taken home in his automobile this afternoon, Adelle.”

“It wasn’t that car,” the child answered. “He must have another one.”

Miss Anderson re-entered the room, so Penny did not ask additional questions. Soon leaving the Home, she motored slowly toward the camp site by the river. Although she readily understood that Adelle might be mistaken, a conviction was growing upon her that Clyde Blake could have been the hit-run driver.

“Even if he doesn’t drive a gray car, that proves nothing,” she mused. “He easily could have changed it during the past year.”

Penny thought that she might find her father or some of the Camp Board officials still at the river. However, as she drove into the parking area, she observed that the grounds were entirely deserted. Paper plates, napkins and newspapers had been blown helter-skelter by the wind. Picnic tables still held the unsightly remains of lunches. The speakers’ platform had been torn down, even the tents were gone, for it was not planned to make practical use of the grounds until more work had been done.

As Penny was starting to drive away, she noticed a lone man near one of the picnic tables. He was dressed in rough, unpressed garments, and seemed to be scavenging food which had been left behind.

“That’s the same man who pulled Adelle from the water!” she thought alertly.

Leaping from the car, Penny ran toward him.

Hearing footsteps, the man turned and saw her. Almost in panic he started for the woods.

“Wait!” Penny shouted. “I won’t turn you over to the police! Please wait!”

The man hesitated, and then apparently deciding that he had nothing to fear from a girl, paused.

“I want to thank you for saving Adelle,” Penny said breathlessly. “Why did you run away?”

“Well, I don’t know,” the man answered, avoiding her gaze. “I never liked crowds.”

Penny decided to risk a direct accusation. “You are Clem Davis,” she said, eyeing him steadily.

“That’s a laugh,” the man retorted, starting to edge away. “My name is Thomas Ryan.”

“Now please don’t run away again,” Penny pleaded, sensing his intention. “If you are Clem Davis, and I’m sure you are, I want to help you.”

“How could you help me?”

“By exposing the men who framed you. I never believed that you set fire to the Preston barn.”

“I never did.”

“Please tell me about it,” Penny urged, seating herself at one of the picnic benches.

“Who are you anyhow?” the man asked suspiciously. “Why are you so willing to help me, as you say?”

“I’m Penelope Parker, and my father publishes the
Star
.”

“Oh, I see, you’re after a story!”

“No, that part is only incidental,” Penny said hurriedly. “What my father really wants to do is to expose the Black Hoods and drive them out of existence. You’re the one person who might be able to provide evidence which would convict the guilty parties.”

“I could tell plenty if I was a mind to do it. No one would believe me though.”

“I will, Mr. Davis.”

“I was in the notion of going to the Grand Jury at one time,” the man said slowly. “That’s what brought on all my trouble. If I’d had sense enough to have kept my mouth shut, I wouldn’t be a fugitive now.”

“What connection did you have with the Hoods? Were you a member of the organization?”

“Yes, I was,” the man admitted reluctantly. “I didn’t know much about the Hoods when I joined ’em. Then I tried to drop out, and that’s what turned ’em against me.”

“Suppose you tell me all about it. What is the real purpose of the organization?”

“Well, right now the Hoods are trying to force every truck farmer in this district to join the County Cooperative.”

“Then Hank Holloway must be the ring leader!”Penny exclaimed, startled by the information.

“No, he’s not at the head of the Hoods,” Clem Davis corrected.

“Who is the man?” Penny questioned eagerly.

Clem Davis started to speak, then hesitated. An automobile had driven into the parking area only a few rods away. Several workmen who had been assigned to clean up the grounds, alighted.

“They’re coming this way,” Clem Davis said uneasily. “I can’t risk being seen.”

Abruptly, he started toward the sheltering trees.

“Wait!” Penny pleaded, pursuing him. “You haven’t told me half enough. Please wait!”

“I’m not going to risk arrest,” the man returned over his shoulder.

“At least meet me here again!”

“Okay, I’ll do that,” Clem Davis agreed.

“Tomorrow night just at dusk,” Penny said quickly. “And please don’t fail me. I promise. I’ll help you.”

CHAPTER 20

CLEM DAVIS’ DISCLOSURE

After Clem Davis had disappeared into the woods, Penny wasted no more time in the vicinity. Jumping into her car, she drove home in a daze of excitement, to tell her father the amazing story.

“Meeting that man was wonderful luck!” she assured him exultantly. “Why, if only he reveals what he knows, we will get an exclusive story for the
Star
! We’ll expose the Hoods and put an end to the organization!”

“As easy as that?” laughed Mr. Parker. “Seriously though, I think we are on the verge of cracking the story. In going over the books of the County Cooperative, Jerry has discovered any number of discrepancies.”

“I’ve always thought that Hank Holloway might be connected with the Hoods, Dad! I believe he was the night rider who made off with Mrs. Davis’ melons.”

“Any idea who the other members of the outfit may be?”

“Not yet, but I expect to find out when I meet Clem Davis tomorrow.”

“I’ll go with you,” Mr. Parker declared. “Maybe I should take Sheriff Daniels along too.”

“Oh, Dad,” Penny protested indignantly. “I promised to help Clem, not turn him over to an officer. I am afraid that unless I go alone, he’ll not even show himself.”

“Perhaps it would be best for you to go by yourself,” the editor admitted. “Learn what you can from Davis, and make an appointment for him to see me.”

Another matter weighed heavily on Penny’s mind. In her encounter with Clyde Blake that morning, she had acted in a high-handed manner, and sooner or later her father must hear about the cheque episode.

“Dad, I have a confession to make,” she began awkwardly. “When I reached the camp this morning I found that Mr. Blake had induced the board members to buy the property—”

“Never mind,” Mr. Parker interrupted. “I’ve already heard the details of your disgraceful actions from Mrs. Van Cleve.”

“I’m thoroughly ashamed of myself,” Penny said contritely. “I tore up the cheque on the spur of the moment.”

“It was a foolish, rather dramatic thing to do. However, I must acknowledge the result was highly pleasing to everyone save Clyde Blake.”

“What does he have to say, Dad?”

“He claims that he acted in good faith for Benjamin Bowman. Likewise, that he had no suspicion the title was faulty.”

“Naturally he would take such an attitude.”

“I’ve asked Blake to produce Ben Bowman,” Mr. Parker resumed. “Unless he can do so and prove that the property actually is owned by him, the deal is off.”

“Do you think Blake will bring the man to Riverview?”

“I doubt it very much,” the editor answered. “I suspect he’ll bluff, and finally let the deal go by default. It will be an easy way out for him.”

“Blake always seems to escape his misdeeds. I wish we could find Ben Bowman ourselves, and bring the two men together. That would be interesting!”

“Finding Ben Bowman would serve many useful purposes,” Mr. Parker said grimly. “But now that I would actually welcome a communication from him, he no longer pesters me!”

Eagerly Penny awaited the hour appointed for her meeting with Clem Davis. Knowing that the man did not obtain enough to eat, she spent considerable time the next afternoon preparing a lunch basket of substantial food. Taking it with her, she waited at the camp site for nearly a half hour. Finally, just as she began to think that the man had failed her, he appeared.

“I’ve brought you some hot coffee,” Penny said, taking the plug from a thermos bottle. “A little food too.”

“Say, that’s swell!” the man murmured gratefully. “My wife slips me a handout whenever she can, but lately the house has been watched so closely, she can’t get away.”

Seating himself at the picnic table, Clem Davis drained the cup of coffee in a few swallows, and greedily devoured a sandwich.

“Now what do you want to know?” he asked gruffly.

Mr. Parker had told Penny exactly what questions to ask. She began with the most important one.

“Mr. Davis, tell me, who is the head man of the Hoods?”

“I don’t know myself,” he answered promptly. “At the meetings, the Master always wore a robe and a black hood. None of the members ever were permitted to see his face.”

“You have no idea who the man may be?”

Clem Davis shook his head as he bit into another sandwich. “I doubt there are more than one or two members of the order who know his identity. Hank Holloway might, or maybe Charley Phelps.”

“Is Phelps a member?” Penny asked quickly.

“One of the chief ones. Most of the meetings are held at his place.”

“You don’t mean at the Hubell Tower?”

Penny’s pulse had stepped up to a faster pace, for the information was of the greatest value. Furthermore, it thrilled her that her own theory regarding Charley Phelps was receiving support.

“Sure, the Hoods meet at the Tower about once a month,” Clem Davis disclosed. “Usually they get together on the thirteenth, but sometimes they have extra sessions. When special meetings are held, a green light burns on the tower, or the clock strikes thirteen times just at midnight.”

“I thought so!” Penny exclaimed, highly elated. “Tell me, why did you decide to break your connection with the Hoods?”

“I joined the organization before I knew what I was letting myself in for. When they made plans to burn the Preston barn, I wanted to quit. The Hoods threatened me, and to get even, planted evidence that made it look as if I had set the fire.”

Penny was inclined to believe that Clem Davis had told a straight story for it coincided with her own theories. Always it had seemed to her that evidence pointing to his guilt had been entirely too plain. To corroborate her conclusions, she had brought from home the watch fob found at the Davis stable, hoping that he might identify it.

“That’s not mine,” he said promptly when she showed the article to him. “I never saw it before.”

Penny opened the tiny case, displaying the child’s picture. However, the man had no idea who the little boy might be.

“Mr. Davis,” she said quietly, replacing the watch fob in her pocket. “I believe in your innocence, and I want to help you. I am sure I can, providing you are willing to cooperate.”

“I’ve already told you about everything I know.”

“You’ve given me splendid information,” Penny praised. “What I want you to do is to talk with my father. He’ll probably ask you to repeat your story to the Grand Jury.”

“I’d be a fool to do that,” Clem Davis responded. “I can’t prove any of my statements. The Preston fire would be pinned on me, and the Hoods might try to harm my wife. Why, they ran off with a truck load of our melons the other night.”

“I know. But unless someone has the courage to speak out against the Hoods they’ll become bolder and do even more harm. Supposing you were promised absolute protection. Then would you go before the Grand Jury?”

“Nothing would give me more pleasure. But who can guarantee I’ll not be made to pay?”

“I think my father can,” Penny assured him. “Will you meet him here tomorrow night at this same hour?”

“Okay,” the man agreed, getting up from the table. “You seem to be on the level.”

“I’ll bring more food tomorrow,” Penny said as an extra inducement. “You must have had a hard time since you’ve been hiding out in the woods.”

“Oh, it’s not so bad once you get used to it,” the man shrugged. “I’ve got a pretty good place to sleep now.”

“Inside a building?” Penny asked curiously.

“An automobile,” the man grinned. “Someone abandoned it in the swamp and I’ve taken possession.”

“An old one, I suppose.”

“Not so old,” Clem Davis answered. “Funny thing, it’s a 1941 Deluxe model with good upholstery. The only thing I can see wrong with it is that the front grill and fenders have been smashed.”