Mrs. Rhett's eyes opened then and she said: "Oh, Lorinda!"

"Yes, Mother."

"There's something I wish to mention--about my will."

"Your will?" the girl repeated with distaste. "Why talk about that--now

of all times!"

"There may be no better time," Mrs. Rhett said. "As you know, my will is

kept in the safe. It leaves this house and nearly all of my property to

Hamilton."

"Let's not talk about it," Lorinda pleaded nervously. "At the time you

made the will, we decided it was very fair."

"I thought so then, because you have substantial income in your own name.

Hamilton, on the other hand, has nothing--scarcely a penny except his

salary at the bank."

"You were right in leaving money to him, Mother. I never objected."

"The situation has changed now," Mrs. Rhett continued. "My husband may

never return. If I should die suddenly, the estate would be left to him,

but he might not appear to claim it. To my knowledge, he has no

relatives. It could all become an awkward legal muddle."

"You certainly are borrowing trouble, Mother! Father will be found, and

everything will be the same as before."

"I wish I could think so, Lorinda."

"Forget about the will."

Mrs. Rhett shook her head. "I think I shall change it. And soon. However,

at this moment, I don't know how I wish to dispose of some of my

property. Nearly everything I own is tied up in real estate."

The woman arose, and remarking that she had a severe headache, started

into the house.

"I'll lie down for a little while," she murmured. "I feel so weak and

tired."

Lorinda waited until her mother was well beyond hearing. Then she turned

to Penny with stricken eyes.

"You heard what she said! She must have learned about that hideous doll

from Celeste!"

"But how did Celeste know of it? You told her?"

"Oh, no! But Celeste has a way of knowing everything that goes on in this

household. What ought I to do?"

"If I were in your place I would get rid of Celeste and Anton. Send them

packing!"

The suggestion seemed almost shocking to Lorinda.

"Oh, I couldn't do that," she answered. "In the first place, my

stepfather would be furious if he returned and found them gone. Secondly,

I doubt that they would go on my orders. They're very independent."

"Then I don't see what you can do."

"If only my stepfather were here! Unless he returns soon I'm afraid

something dreadful will happen to Mother. Did she look well to you?"

"Well--" Penny hesitated, and then said truthfully: "She seemed pale and

listless. But one can understand that, considering what she has been

through."

"I heard her give orders about her food this morning. She told Celeste

she would have trays served in her room, and _no food is to be cooked

with salt_."

"Is that especially significant?"

"My stepfather once told me natives who believe a hex or _ouange_ have

been put on them are afraid to eat salted food. The salt is supposed to

turn to poison in their bodies!"

Penny would have laughed had the matter not been so serious.

"Lorinda, you're as superstitious as a little savage!"

"I don't believe such a thing myself," the girl denied. "But Mother

apparently does. She always was afraid of everything remotely connected

with cult practices. She never wanted my stepfather to have books on the

subject in the library, yet recently I saw her reading them."

"You said they disagreed about his interest in ancient cult practices?"

"Yes," Lorinda admitted. "Otherwise they got on quite well together.

Perhaps I shouldn't tell you this, but two days before he went away, they

had a violent disagreement. Mother wanted to discharge Anton and Celeste,

and he refused. Then on the last day my stepfather was seen, Mother went

to the bank to talk to him. She never told me what happened there."

"According to Albert Potts, they had another quarrel."

"I shouldn't wonder," Lorinda sighed. "And now Mother's attitude toward

Celeste is so changed--she actually clings to her. Oh dear, it's all so

upsetting."

"You're trying to take too much upon your shoulders," Penny said kindly.

Conversation lagged. Lorinda could not throw aside the deep mood of

depression which possessed her. Penny knew she no longer had an excuse to

linger, yet she was unwilling to leave without asking a few questions

about the thatched roof cottage.

"Lorinda, why did you try to keep me from visiting it the other day?" she

inquired.

"Well, I didn't know you then. My stepfather's trophies all are kept in

the cottage, and I didn't want anyone prying about."

"Then actually it's not a place of evil?"

Lorinda hesitated and answered indirectly: "I almost never go to the

cottage myself. Once I was badly frightened there--it was nothing--but

for a silly reason, I've always dreaded going back."

"You didn't by chance hear whispering from within the walls?"

Lorinda gave her companion a quick, startled look. "Why do you ask,

Penny?"

"Because I visited the cottage yesterday with Salt Sommers. We distinctly

heard a voice which seemed to come from the wall itself. When we went

outside to investigate, the door slammed shut and locked."

"It has an automatic catch," Lorinda explained. "I never heard voices

there, but I had a strange feeling when I was in the room--as if the

walls had eyes and I was being watched."

"The cottage always is kept locked?" Penny inquired.

"Yes, my stepfather's trophies are valuable, and we can't risk having

them stolen. How did you get inside?"

Penny had the grace to blush. "Well, to make a long story short, we went

in through the window," she admitted. "It was a dreadful thing to do, and

I'm heartily ashamed."

"I don't blame you," Lorinda laughed. "Naturally you were curious after I

tried so hard to keep you away. Would you like to see the cottage again?"

"Indeed, yes!"

"I'll get the key," Lorinda offered.

She vanished into the house and was gone so long that Penny wondered what

could be delaying the girl. When she finally appeared on the veranda, her

face was as dark as a rain cloud.

"The key is gone!" she exclaimed. "It's always been kept in the top

drawer of the dresser in my stepfather's room. I couldn't find it

anywhere."

"Perhaps he took it with him that last day he went to the bank,"

suggested Penny.

"Possibly," agreed Lorinda, though without conviction. "I hope nothing

has been stolen from the cottage."

Alarmed at being unable to find the key, the girls walked hurriedly along

the wooded path to the trophy house. From afar, Lorinda saw that the door

was open a tiny crack.

"Either the place has been ransacked, or someone is there now!" she

declared excitedly.

They approached swiftly but with noiseless tread. Lorinda suddenly flung

open the cottage door.

The room was deserted. Trophies were exactly as Penny had seen them the

previous day.

"That's funny," Lorinda commented, entering, "I was certain I'd find

someone here. Perhaps you and your friend failed to lock the door after

you left yesterday."

"It locked itself. We tried it, and couldn't get in. Anyway, even if we

had left the door open, that still leaves the question of what became of

the missing key."

Lorinda nodded thoughtfully as her gaze swept the room.

"Everything seems to be here," she remarked.

"What does the chest contain?" Penny inquired curiously. "Salt and I

wanted to peek inside yesterday, but didn't have a chance."

"I'll show you," Lorinda offered.

Pulling out the chest, she raised the lid. The top compartment tray was

empty. Looking a trifle puzzled, Lorinda jerked it from the wooden

container. The lower section of the chest also was empty.

"Why, everything is gone!" she cried. "My stepfather kept an altar cloth,

a feathered head dress, two carved knives, several rattles, and I don't

know what all in this chest! They've been stolen!"

CHAPTER

14

_STORM WARNINGS_

Penny dropped down on her knees beside Lorinda, peering into the empty

wooden box.

"I hope you don't think Salt and I took anything when we were here," she

murmured uncomfortably. "We never even opened the chest."

"Of course I know you didn't," Lorinda replied. "Such a thought never

entered my mind. But it's disturbing to know these things are gone. Why

weren't the other trophies taken also?"

"Possibly, because the person who stole them thought the objects inside

the chest would not be so quickly missed."

Lorinda nodded as if in agreement, and closed the chest. As she

straightened up, a tense, strained expression came over her face, and she

stiffened.

"Listen!" she whispered.

From behind the walls of the house came a muffled dum--dum--dum of a

drum. Even as the girls tensely listened, the sound died away.

"Could this cottage have a secret panel?" Penny asked in an excited

voice.

"I don't think so." Badly frightened, Lorinda tried not to show it. "At

least I never heard of one."

Penny began tapping the walls, none of which gave off a hollow sound. The

section by the fireplace appeared somewhat thicker than the others.

However, if it contained a moveable panel, she could not locate it.

Her gaze fell upon the cocoanut shell lamp, its bowl nearly exhausted of

oil.

"Lorinda," she inquired, "is this room usually lighted?"

"Why, no."

"When Salt and I were here, we saw the cocoanut shell lamp burning. A

little oil is left in it now."

"I can't imagine how it came to be there," Lorinda said in a hushed

voice. "My stepfather may have filled it long ago, but he certainly never

spoke of it."

Hurriedly the girls left the cottage, closing the door tightly behind

them. Lorinda tested it twice to make certain the lock had caught.

"The sound of those drums--" she murmured. "Penny, did I imagine it?"

"I assure you, you didn't. I heard them too."

"Then the sound came from the beach," Lorinda declared firmly. "It

couldn't have been otherwise. No one is anywhere around here."

"Let's go to the beach and look around," Penny proposed.

Almost at a run, they cut across the garden to the steps which led to the

river's edge. Reaching the beach they paused to listen. No sound of drums

could be heard and no one was in sight.

"It couldn't have come from here," Penny said. "Lorinda, that drumming

definitely was tied up with the cottage."

"But the sound was muffled and far away."

"The cottage may have a passageway connection."

"I never heard of such a thing."

"How long ago was the cottage built, Lorinda?"

"The summer after Mother and my stepfather were married. I remember,

Mother and I went away for a month to visit a cousin. When we returned,

the cottage was finished. My stepfather ordered it done while we were

away. Mother didn't like it one bit."

"Then you actually weren't here when the cottage was built? For all you

know, a secret passageway or false panels in the walls, may have been put

in?"

"I suppose it could have been done," Lorinda admitted reluctantly.

"Who would know about the cottage except your stepfather? Did you learn

the builder's name?"

"I'm not sure there was one. I think my stepfather and Anton did most of

the work themselves."

"Let's talk to Anton," suggested Penny. "Perhaps he can shed light on the

mystery of those whispering, drum-pounding walls!"

Anton, however, was nowhere to be found. After searching for him in the

house and on the grounds, the girls abandoned the search.

By this time it was growing late, so Penny regretfully bade her friend

goodbye, and returned home.

Try as she would, she could not forget the strange events of the

afternoon, nor Mrs. Rhett's obsession that she would have a long and

fatal illness.

"Even now that woman is mentally ill," she thought. "I do hope Lorinda

calls in a doctor without delay."

Although removed from the depressing mansion atmosphere, Penny found it

impossible to forget the effigy and the conviction Lorinda had of its

powers.

"Dad," she said abruptly that night when dinner was over. "Do you believe

in black magic?"

"I don't believe in any kind of magic, black, red, pink or green," he

answered absently. "What's on your mind now?"

Penny told him of her adventure at the Rhett estate. She confidently

expected her father to make light of the entire affair, but to her

surprise he listened with flattering attention and asked many questions.

"It's fantastic!" he exclaimed when she finished. "Utterly fantastic! Yet

I've read of cases where natives have been taken ill and although doctors

declared not a thing was the matter with them, they weakened and died. Is

Mrs. Rhett an hysterical type of woman?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Then she may be in real danger! Obviously, something underhanded is

going on at the mansion!"

Pulling himself out of a comfortable chair, Mr. Parker went to the hall

closet for his hat, coat and cane.

"You're not going to the police station, are you, Dad?"

"No, I want to talk this over first with a man of my acquaintance who is

better versed in cult practices and superstitions than anyone I know.

He's Professor Kennedy of Riverview College. He spent many years in

Africa, Egypt and along the Amazon river."

"May I go with you, Dad?"

"Come along," he invited. "You know all the facts, and I may get them

mixed up."

Twenty minutes later Penny and her father were in the cozy study of

Professor James Kennedy on Braemer Drive. An elderly man with a very soft

voice, he greeted the Parkers cordially and displayed keen interest as

they revealed the purpose of their call.

"I once met Mr. Rhett at a dinner party," Professor Kennedy remarked. "He

is a highly intelligent gentleman and we had a very animated

conversation."

"Did Rhett impress you as a man who might dabble in black magic practice

to gain his ends?" Mr. Parker inquired.

Professor Kennedy dropped a log on the fire before he answered.

Considering his words carefully, he said:

"Undoubtedly, Mr. Rhett would have the knowledge, but he struck me as a

man of unusual character. Suppose you explain more fully what you have in

mind."

Professor Kennedy listened soberly as Penny recounted her many

observations while at the Rhett mansion. He frowned slightly as she told

how Mrs. Rhett had found the burnt match ends tied with scarlet string.

When she disclosed how Lorinda and she destroyed the wooden doll, he no

longer could remain silent.

"Indeed, you are correct in thinking someone may be trying to practice a

little jungle magic!" he exclaimed. "Mrs. Rhett may be in grave danger

unless we take counter-measures."

"But why should anyone seek to harm her?" Penny inquired. "You don't

think she'll actually be physically hurt?"

"Her mind will be influenced--poisoned," the professor explained. "Oh, I

don't mean a drug will be used, but there are subtle and just as

effective ways. Now those burned match ends and the doll are only

symbols, harmless in themselves, yet they are a means by which Mrs. Rhett

may be made seriously ill."

"Merely by the use of suggestion?"

"Yes."

"But it's all such nonsense!" Penny protested.

"To you--yes. But not to Mrs. Rhett. Tell me, does she know that the doll

existed?"

"Yes, she learned about it--probably from Anton or Celeste."

The professor nodded. "The intended victim _always knows_," he declared.

"By one means or another he is informed through those who seek his ruin.

To be effective, the person must fear the mumbo-jumbo hocus-pocus."

"Mrs. Rhett does fear it," Penny confirmed. "What's worse, she already

believes herself marked for long illness. She actually looked ill today."

"She is mentally sick, and the symptoms will develop, unless

counter-measures quickly are adopted."

"What do you advise, Professor?" asked Mr. Parker. "Perhaps if Mrs. Rhett

were sent away from Riverview for a short while--"

"It would be of no avail, for the basic belief that she is ill would

remain in her mind. No, this thing, must be plucked out at the root. The

doll has been burned. That is good! Now the one who seeks to will this

sickness upon Mrs. Rhett must be found and confronted with his crime."

"We don't know who is behind it," said Mr. Parker.

"I read in the papers Mr. Rhett has vanished. However, I wonder, is it

not possible he actually is still in Riverview?"

"But you said yourself, Mr. Rhett doesn't appear the type of man to do

such a ghastly thing," broke in Mr. Parker.

"So I did, but we dare not close our eyes to such a possibility. I

believe you mentioned two servants, Anton and Celeste, who also are

versed in cult practices, no doubt."

"Celeste is the one I suspect!" cried Penny. "But she has no good reason

for hating Mrs. Rhett who seemingly always has been kind to her."

"Regardless, my advice is that the two servants be watched closely. And

when the guilty person is found, as he must be, ordinary threats or

punishments are likely to prove useless in dealing with him. He must be

fought with his own superstitious weapons."

Mr. Parker and Penny talked on and on with the professor whose discussion

of the effects of auto-suggestion only served to heighten their anxiety

regarding Mrs. Rhett. When they left the house at midnight, Penny was

deeply depressed.

"It's all very well for the professor to say 'find the guilty party and

fight him with his own weapons,'" she declared, "but how can we do it? In

the first place, Lorinda is our only contact with the Rhett household."

"Secondly, we're not gifted in all this hocus-pocus. It's a case for the

police," added her father.

"But we have no proof of anything," Penny pointed out.

"True," agreed her father. "I may talk to the police chief about it.

Meanwhile, we're interested in keeping abreast of developments for the

_Star_. If you're sent out there again, be watchfully alert, but say

nothing to Lorinda or anyone else about your suspicions. The case could

take an ugly turn. In that event, I don't want you involved."

"It's fun working on the story, Dad. But I also want to help Lorinda and

especially her mother."

Penny realized her father had given excellent advice, and made up her

mind to follow it. She became thoughtfully silent as they motored home.

"Wonder what the news is tonight?" Mr. Parker remarked, halting the car

at a street corner to buy a newspaper.

Glaring headlines occupied the front page. Mr. Parker's first thought was

that the missing banker had been found. He snapped on the interior car

light to read the banner.

His stunned silence as he stared at it, caused Penny to peer over his

shoulder. The lead story was not about Mr. Rhett's mysterious

disappearance. Instead, the bold black type proclaimed:

"STORM WARNINGS POSTED. RIVERVIEW BELIEVED TO BE IN PATH OF APPROACHING

HURRICANE!"

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."

CHAPTER

16

_AN OPEN WINDOW_

Unmindful of Penny, Celeste bent lower over her bed-ridden mistress,

whispering words into her ear.

"Celeste! What are you saying?" Penny demanded. "Why, you're putting

dangerous ideas into Mrs. Rhett's mind!"

The servant whirled toward her angrily. "Go away!" she ordered. "My

mistress does not want you here!"

"Celeste!" reproved Mrs. Rhett, but in a mild voice.

Penny stood her ground, stubbornly determined that a servant should not

order her away. For a moment she and Celeste measured each other with

steady gaze. Nothing more was said. Mrs. Rhett sighed, closed her eyes,

and seemed to drowse.

Lorinda came bounding up the stairs two at a time. Unaware that anything

unpleasant had transpired during her absence, she said with forced

cheerfulness:

"Now, Mother, let's have no more nonsense. You're to eat your food

without fuss. Here, let's try the custard again."

Mrs. Rhett pushed away the spoon. "No, Lorinda, it is useless. But there

is something you may do for me."

"Anything you wish, Mother."

"Bring pen and ink."

"Are you really strong enough to write a letter?"

"I intend to change my will. Lorinda, we spoke of this the other day.

While I still have the strength I must revoke my former will and leave

all my property to you."

"Oh, Mother, don't talk of such things! Why, the doctor says you're in

perfect physical condition. You'll be up and around in another day or

two. It's only worry about Father that has put you under the weather."

"I have made up my mind, Lorinda. The will must be changed--now--tonight,

while I have the strength."

"Very well, if it will make you rest easier," Lorinda said reluctantly.

"Celeste, bring ink, a pen and paper."

Celeste made no move to obey. "My mistress is not strong enough to

write," she mumbled.

"Mother wishes to change the will. Please bring the materials."

"To change the will while one lies on a sick bed is to invite great

trouble."

"Celeste! No more of such talk! Do as you are told!"

Penny thought the servant would refuse to obey, but she shuffled off.

Many minutes passed before she returned with the requested materials.

Lorinda sat down at the bedside, and wrote at her Mother's dictation. It

was a simple will in which Mrs. Rhett left all of her property to her

daughter.

"If I thought my husband ever would return, I would want him to receive

all my holdings," she said. "As it is, I think the money should go to

you, Lorinda."

Penny was tempted to speak of her own belief that Mr. Rhett might be

alive and in the city. However, realizing she had not a scrap of proof,

she wisely remained silent.

Mrs. Rhett signed the will. Lorinda and Penny then added their names as

witnesses to the document.

"Lock the will in the safe," Mrs. Rhett instructed her daughter. "Do it

now, before you forget."

"Yes, Mother."

Seemingly relieved that the matter had been accomplished, Mrs. Rhett

turned over in bed and tried to sleep. Leaving Celeste to look after her,

Penny and Lorinda went downstairs to the study.

"Celeste seemed to be displeased because your mother changed the will,"

Penny remarked.

"Yes, Celeste has become a problem. I feel the doctor was right in

suggesting a nurse for Mother. Celeste _may_ mean well, but she is a

distinct influence for the worse."

"Then why not get rid of her?"

"How?"

"Tell her to go."

Lorinda laughed shortly. "You don't know Celeste if you think she would

take such an order from me!"

"Then have your mother dismiss her."

"I'm not sure she would do it. Furthermore, Celeste might defy her too.

She has the idea she'll take orders only from my stepfather."

"I believe you're actually afraid of the woman," Penny commented.

"In a way I am," Lorinda admitted. "Mother used to dislike her intensely.

Strangely, since she has become ill, she seems to depend more upon

Celeste than she does upon me."

"Did it ever occur to you that Celeste might deliberately be planting

ideas in your mother's mind?"

"Yes, I've thought of it. I don't believe Celeste would be evil enough to

do it on purpose, but she is highly superstitious. I wish she were out of

the house."

"You could get rid of her if you really wanted to. Just call in the

police, and have them take over."

"I couldn't do that. Mother would never forgive me."

The girls entered the study, and Lorinda switched on a light. After

pulling the blinds, she removed the wall picture, and prepared to open

the safe.

Before she could spin the dials, footsteps padded on the stairway.

Celeste appeared suddenly in the study doorway.

"Come quick!" she pleaded. "Mistress much worse!"

Lorinda dropped the will on the table, and with Penny close at her heels,

followed Celeste up the stairway. Expecting the worst, they peered

anxiously at Mrs. Rhett. She was tossing restlessly, but otherwise

appeared the same as when they had seen her a few minutes ago.

"How do you feel, Mother?" Lorinda asked.

"Just the same," Mrs. Rhett replied listlessly.

Lorinda gazed questioningly at Celeste.

"Mistress much better now," the servant said. "She had sinking spell

while you were downstairs."

"I'm afraid you imagined it, Celeste," Lorinda replied severely. "This

really proves that we should have a trained nurse. Otherwise, you'll

frighten us all out of our wits."

Celeste started to make a retort, but just then Mrs. Rhett spoke:

"Lorinda, did you put the will in the safe?" she asked.

"I was doing it when Celeste called. I'll attend to it right away."

Lorinda stooped to kiss her mother and offer a glass of water which was

declined. She then went downstairs once more with Penny.

"What do you suppose possessed Celeste to frighten me so?" she remarked

thoughtfully. "Did Mother seem changed to you?"

"Not a particle."

Reaching the study, Lorinda went directly to the table where she had left

the signed will. The paper was not there.

"Why, Penny, what did I do with it?" she demanded in bewilderment. "I was

certain I left it here."

"I distinctly recall that you did," Penny replied, her gaze wandering to

an open window where a curtain fluttered in the breeze. "Lorinda, I think

while we were away, someone came in from outside and took the will!"

CHAPTER

17

_THE STOLEN WILL_

Penny darted to the open window, peering out onto the dark street. No one

was in sight, although Jerry's car with dimmed headlights still stood at

the curb.

"Who could have taken the will?" Lorinda wailed. "I'm sure it didn't blow

out the window and it didn't sprout legs and walk off either!"

"Perhaps Celeste--"

"She was upstairs all the time we were out of this room," Lorinda

interrupted.

"It seemed odd she called us just at the moment she did--particularly

when your mother had not suffered a relapse."

Lorinda did not appear to hear Penny's remark. Half doubting that the

paper could be missing, she searched on the floor near the safe, under

the window and in every corner of the room.

"I suspect someone deliberately stole that will!" Penny said with

conviction. "Wait here! I may be able to learn more about it!"

Hastening outdoors, she gazed about the grounds. No one was in sight. She

went directly to the press car. The automobile was deserted.

"Now what became of Jerry?" she asked herself impatiently. "Just when I

need him!"

Disappointed, she turned toward the house again. Then she saw the

reporter coming up a dark path from the direction of the beach.

"Jerry!" she called softly.

"Hi, Penny!" he returned. "Ready to go?"

"Oh, no! Everything is in a dreadful mess here. Lorinda's mother is very

sick. She made a will, and Lorinda started to put it in the safe. Then we

were called out of the room by the housekeeper, and when we returned, the

paper was gone!"

"When did that happen, Penny?"

"Just now."

"Then that fellow I chased must have been the thief!"

"You saw someone take the will, Jerry?"

"I was sitting in the car," the reporter related. "A light was on in one

of the downstairs rooms, but I was too sleepy to pay much attention.

Suddenly though, I saw a man who apparently had been hiding in the

shrubbery, rise up and climb through an open window."

"A man! Could you see who it was?"

"No, it was too dark. I jumped out of the car, but before I could cross

the yard, the fellow climbed out through the window again, and started

off. I called to him. He covered his face and ran. I chased him, but the

fellow ducked down a path and I lost him."

"He must have stolen the will, Jerry! But how did he know about it, and

why would it be of any value to him? Everything is so mixed up!"

"Maybe we ought to give the police a buzz."

Penny nodded. "I'll see what Lorinda wants to do," she replied. "Until

now, the Rhetts have studiously avoided telling their troubles to the

police--in fact, I am afraid Mrs. Rhett hasn't told everything she knows

about her husband's disappearance."

"I'll wait in the car," Jerry said.

Penny let herself into the house again and made her way through the dark

living room to the library where a light burned.

"Lorinda--" she began, only to stop short.

For it was not Lorinda who stood with her back toward the door, awkwardly

turning the dials of the wall safe. Instead, Celeste whirled around,

plainly dismayed by the girl's unexpected appearance in the doorway.

"Celeste!" Penny said sharply. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," the woman muttered, her mouth sullen.

"You were trying to get into that safe! Is it the will you want, or are

you after the Zudi drum?"

Penny's words, shot blindly, struck the target. Celeste's eyes flashed

and she advanced a step toward the girl.

"You go away from here! Never come back!" she ordered harshly.

"Sorry, I'm not taking orders from you, Celeste. Why do you hate Lorinda

and Mrs. Rhett? What is your little game?"

Celeste glared at Penny. She drew in her breath and expelled it with a

hissing sound through her yellow, crooked teeth. Her hand clutched at an

object hidden beneath her uniform and worn around her neck on a dirty

cord.

With no warning, she broke into a jargon which Penny could not

understand. But the meaning was clear enough even if the words were

unintelligible. Celeste was calling down all manner of evil upon her

head!

"Go!" Celeste cried in English. "You come here again--harm befall you!"

"Celeste, all your jungle hocus-pocus doesn't impress me in the least.

I'll leave when I feel in the mood--not before. What were you after in

the safe?"

The woman's eyes met Penny's defiantly. She reached out as if to strike

her, but at that moment footsteps padded on the stairway. Pushing past

Penny, Celeste retreated to the kitchen.

Lorinda came into the library, gazing about curiously. "Thought I heard

voices," she commented.

"You did. Celeste was here. Guess what? I found her tampering with the

wall safe."

"She may have been trying to learn if the Zudi drum was stolen," Lorinda

said absently. "I'm far more worried about the will. What became of it?"

Penny repeated what Jerry had witnessed, adding: "Obviously the will was

taken by the man who climbed through the window. Could it have been

Anton?"

"Anton? Why, I doubt that he even knew about the will, because Mother

decided to change it at a moment's notice. What reason would he have for

taking it? Neither he nor Celeste figured in the terms of either

document."

"It seemed to me Celeste was tremendously interested," Penny said. "Oh,

well, the loss shouldn't be of serious consequence. Your mother can draw

up another will."

"That's exactly what she won't do. I told her about the will being taken,

Penny. She immediately decided it was another omen--a sign that she

should leave everything the way it is."

"How foolish! Celeste must have put those notions in her head!"

"I'm sure I don't know. As for the will, I never did encourage her to

change it, because not for a moment do I believe she is sick enough to

die. I don't want Mother's money. I only want her to get well and strong

and be happy again. Penny, you don't think she is seriously ill?"

"The doctor said nothing is the matter with her."

"Yet we both know something dreadful is wrong." Lorinda's finger tips

nervously tapped the table edge. "Oh, Penny, I'm scared--terribly scared.

I don't explain it, but I just _feel_ a sinister something in the air!"

"You shouldn't be here alone with Celeste and Anton. Why not override

them and hire a nurse or companion for your mother?"

"Maybe I will," Lorinda agreed. "I'll think it over until tomorrow."

"You'll report the theft of the will to the police, of course?"

"No," Lorinda decided instantly. "They would only ask embarrassing

questions."

"Why are you so reluctant to take anyone into your confidence?"

"We're in enough trouble now, Penny. Please, let's not talk about it any

more until tomorrow."

Decidedly puzzled by Lorinda's attitude, Penny said goodbye and rejoined

Jerry in the car. He had seen no more of the mysterious prowler and was

convinced the man had fled the estate.

"Let's go," he said, starting the car.

As the automobile swung down the driveway, Penny peered intently at the

roadside shrubbery. The bushes were crashing back and forth in the rising

wind, but no one was visible anywhere near the estate. Chilled, she

closed the car window.

"Do you think that hurricane really is heading our way?" she asked her

companion.

"Didn't see the government report tonight," Jerry replied. "Probably at

the last minute, the storm will veer off and we'll escape. Riverview

never was struck by a hurricane. Too far inland."

The car purred smoothly on, following the road which curled toward the

beach. Penny became silent. As they turned a corner, Jerry reached out to

give her hand a friendly squeeze.

"Why so quiet, kitten?" he teased.

"Just thinking, Jerry. There are so many things about the Rhett case I

can't understand."

"Why trouble your little brain?"

"Because this isn't just an ordinary story to me, Jerry. I like Lorinda,

and I feel that unless something is done, her mother may die."

"Don't tell me you're becoming a superstitious little heathen!"

"Certainly not! But from what the professor told us, it's a mistake to

underrate the power of suggestion. Mrs. Rhett is in real danger--"

Penny broke off, listening intently.

"What was that, Jerry?" she demanded.

"Didn't hear anything. Only the wind."

"No, I distinctly heard a sound like the throb of a drum!" Penny lowered

the car window. "There it is again!"

This time Jerry, too, heard the sound, far away and indistinct. "You're

right!" he exclaimed, slowing the car. "From down the beach!"

Penny grasped his arm excitedly. "Stop the car!" she exclaimed. "If we

can find the drummer, we may be able to solve part of the mystery!"

CHAPTER

18

_THROUGH THE WINDOW_

Jerry slammed on the foot brake and the car came to a jerky halt at the

curb. Leaping out, they stood for a moment listening.

"Don't hear anything now!" the reporter muttered.

"Let's take a gander down the beach," Penny proposed. "The sound seemed

to come from that direction."

Hand in hand they cut across a vacant lot where dead weeds came waist

high, then followed a sloping path to the beach. The long stretch of sand

was deserted.

"We must have imagined those drums," Jerry said, pausing. "Or maybe it

was the Legion fife and drum corps having a night practice."

"It was the beat of a jungle drum." Penny turned to gaze toward the Rhett

mansion on the wooded hillside. All the windows, save one in an upstairs

bedroom, now were dark.

By the light of a three-quarters moon which was rising over the pines,

she could see the wooden steps that led from the estate down to the

beach. On either side extended tiers of twisted limestone rock. It

occurred to Penny that somewhere among the crannies, a cave might be

tucked away. She spoke of it to Jerry.

"Maybe," he agreed, "but I never heard of one around here."

A gust of wind caught Penny's felt hat, carrying it cartwheeling down the

beach. She and Jerry raced in pursuit, colliding as they pounced on it

together. They laughed, and as the reporter pulled the hat over Penny's

flying hair, he kissed her quickly on the cheek.

Then before she could reprimand him, he exclaimed: "Wow! That wind really

is getting strong! Let's get back to the car before we blow away!"

Penny liked Jerry and she liked the kiss. Best of all, she appreciated

his consideration in never forcing serious attentions upon her. With a

gay "I'll race you!", she ran ahead of him to the road.

Jerry took Penny directly home. Mrs. Weems had gone to bed while Mr.

Parker had not returned from downtown.

"Will you come in and have a cup of chocolate?" Penny invited the

reporter.

"Not tonight, thanks," he declined. "See you tomorrow at the office."

Penny went into the house, and after fixing herself a snack from the

refrigerator, switched on the radio to catch the weather report. The news

commentator, on a national hookup, warned that the hurricane continued to

sweep toward the Atlantic coast, and that inland cities also were

endangered.

"It really sounds serious," she thought, turning off the radio.

As she went upstairs, Mrs. Weems called to her in a sleepy voice, so

Penny stepped into the housekeeper's bedroom for a moment.

"I'm glad you're home," Mrs. Weems said. "Is there any news about the

approaching storm?"

"Nothing definite. The latest radio report said it's still heading this

way."

"When will it strike?"

"Late tomorrow unless it veers off. It may be quite serious," Penny said.

Mrs. Weems sighed and settled beneath the covers again. "If it isn't one

thing it's another! First thing in the morning we must get the awning

down, and have all the shutters taken off."

"If the center of the hurricane should hit here, everything will go,"

Penny said cheerfully. "So why worry about shutters?"

"The storm may be a severe one, but I don't believe it will strike with

hurricane force," Mrs. Weems insisted. "In any case, the shutters are

coming down, and I'll need your help! So don't try to skip out in the

morning!"

Penny went to her own room, but before she could undress, she heard her

father's car on the driveway. He came into the house, locked the doors

for the night, then climbed the stairs.

"Hello, Dad!" she called through the half open door of her bedroom. "Any

news?"

"There will be by morning," he answered grimly. "The _Star_ is coming out

with front page headlines warning the city to prepare for the worst!"

Penny stepped quickly out into the hall.

"Then Riverview is in the path of the hurricane! Is there danger that the

city will be destroyed?"

"Damage to property is almost certain to be extensive. I've just come

from a meeting with the mayor and City Council. While there's an outside

chance the city may be spared, it's folly not to prepare for the full

brunt of the storm. The mayor has issued a proclamation declaring an

emergency and advising everyone to keep off the streets after noon

tomorrow. Most businesses will close."

"Then the _Star_ will shut down too?"

"No. At such a time, folks depend more than ever upon their newspaper for

accurate information. We'll publish as long as we have a plant and our

trucks can keep delivering."

Mr. Parker's information brought home to Penny the true seriousness of

the situation. However, as she peered out of her bedroom window a few

minutes later, the clear sky and bright stars belied an approaching

storm.

Undressed, Penny sat for a time propped up in bed with pillows, trying to

read a book. The words held little meaning. Losing interest, she snapped

off the light, and snuggled down.

But she could not sleep. The dark house was filled with many strange

sounds. The stairway creaked, the shutters rattled, and in the bathroom,

water dripped regularly from a faucet.

Thoughts raced rampant through Penny's mind. She squirmed and tossed and

became increasingly aware of the rising wind.

Suddenly she was startled by a loud crash in the yard below. Leaping out

of bed, she darted to the window. A large rotten tree limb had been

ripped from the backyard maple and now lay across the driveway.

"Dad will have to move it before he can get the car out of the garage in

the morning," she thought. "Some fun!"

Creeping back beneath the covers, she tried again to sleep. Instead, she

found herself thinking over everything that had occurred at the Rhett

mansion. Already the banker's disappearance was fading out of the

newspapers, and with a hurricane in the offing, the story would be

entirely forgotten.

"The police haven't shown much interest," she reflected. "Unless definite

clues are obtained soon, Mr. Rhett may never be traced. The case will

die."

Penny thought of the mysterious thatched roof cottage and the whispering

voices.

"Those walls must have a secret panel," she reasoned. "I believe I might

find it if I had an opportunity to make a thorough investigation!"

A flapping shutter reminded Penny once more of the storm. Then came the

discouraging thought that even if only the tail-end of the hurricane

struck Riverview, the flimsy thatched cottage undoubtedly would be

carried away and destroyed.

"Unless I get out there tomorrow, I'll probably lose my chance!" she told

herself. "Oh, dear, how will I make it when I have a thousand other

things I'm supposed to do?"

Dancing tree limbs cast weird shadows on the rough plaster wall. Penny

closed her eyes, but even then sleep would not come.

Suddenly the window pane crashed, and glass clattered onto the floor.

Startled, Penny sat up and groped for the night table lamp. Her first

thought was that a tree branch had hurtled against the pane, breaking it.

But as the light went on, she saw that only a small hole had been broken

in the glass. On the floor, scarcely two feet from the bed, lay a small

object wrapped in black cloth.

Penny rolled out of bed and gingerly picked it up. Carefully and with a

feeling of revulsion, she untied the packet.

Inside were two black feathers, the wing of a bird, herbs which Penny

could not identify, a bit of bone, and a small amount of damp earth.

There was no warning message, nothing to identify the one who had thrown

the packet, yet Penny instantly knew its significance and from whence it

had come.

"Either Anton or Celeste hurled it because I've cramped their style!" she

thought. "Well, their little hex won't work! I'll use this evil charm to

fashion their own undoing!"

CHAPTER

19

_RISING WIND_

The sound of crashing glass brought both Mrs. Weems and Mr. Parker to the

bedroom. They found Penny standing at the window, the light off, peering

down into the yard.

"What's coming off here?" Mr. Parker demanded, his voice cross because he

had been aroused from sound slumber. "Did something blow against the

window?"

"This was thrown," Penny revealed, holding up the packet. "Dad, can you

see anyone hiding in the shrubbery?"

Mr. Parker moved to the window, gazing intently about the yard.

"I don't see anyone."

"Whoever it was, he's probably gone now." Penny carefully drew the blinds

before snapping on the overhead light. She handed the packet to her

father.

"What's this, Penny?"

"It was thrown through the window. I suspect it's intended as a bad luck

omen, and to frighten me. Evidently my work on the Rhett case is not

appreciated."

"A jungle charm!" exclaimed Mrs. Weems, horrified. "Oh, Penny, I knew no

good would come of your having anything to do with that queer family!

Here, give that horrid thing to me--I'll burn it in the furnace."

"Not so fast," chuckled Penny. "I intend to keep it as evidence."

"But it may bring you bad luck."

"Why, Mrs. Weems, I'm surprised at you," teased Penny. "Surely you're not

superstitious?"

"No," the housekeeper denied, "but from what you've told me about those

queer Rhett servants, I distrust them. I don't want you even to touch

that ugly package!"

"These objects aren't harmful," Penny insisted, selecting the bit of bone

and offering it to Mrs. Weems. "Why attach special significance to them?"

With a shudder, the housekeeper backed away.

"Penny is right," declared Mr. Parker. "The packet is silly and has no

meaning unless we build it up in our own minds. That, of course, is

exactly what the one who hurled it intends us to do."

"Penny mustn't go to that dreadful place again!"

"Oh, Mrs. Weems! Don't you see, that's just what Anton and Celeste hope

to accomplish. If they can keep me away from the mansion merely by

throwing one of their stupid charms through my window, their trick has

been successful."

"I quite agree with Penny," Mr. Parker declared. "In fact, I may call at

the mansion myself! I've become interested in Anton and Celeste--they're

a very successful pair of bluffers."

"Oh, Dad! Will you go with me tomorrow?"

"Perhaps," he promised vaguely. "We'll see, when the time comes. I

foresee any number of troubles far more serious than our concern with the

Rhett family."

"With both of you against me, I'm only wasting my breath," Mrs. Weems

sighed, drawing her robe tightly about her. "I may as well go to bed."

Penny put the black packet on the dresser after her father had finished

inspecting it. "I intend to wear this charm around my neck the next time

I go to the Rhetts'," she declared. "It will be fun to see how Celeste

and Anton react."

"Don't carry your fun too far," her father advised. "While it's true this

charm has no significance or supernatural power, Anton and Celeste may be

dangerous characters. They'll bear watching."

"And I'm the one to do it," Penny chuckled. "I'm not a bit afraid of

them, Dad. As you said, they're a couple of bluffers."

"I may have used the word ill-advisedly," the publisher corrected. "Don't

make the mistake of underrating them. The case, as you well know, has

sinister aspects."

"I'll be careful," Penny promised soberly.

After her father had returned to his room, she went back to bed. A chill

wind whistled in through the hole in the window, but she burrowed deep

beneath the blankets and soon was sound asleep.

Next morning, as Mr. Parker had predicted, newspapers carried screaming

headlines, announcing that the hurricane might reach Riverview by

nightfall. Householders were advised to take every precaution to protect

life and property.

School opened and was promptly dismissed at nine o'clock. At home, Penny

helped Mrs. Weems carry in the porch awning, remove the shutters and all

loose objects which were likely to be torn free by the wind.

By now, papers were blowing wildly, cluttering the yard. Each gust

brought sticks or small limbs crashing down into the street.

Mrs. Weems, hovering near the radio to hear the last-minute reports,

declared that the barometer continued to fall.

"The storm is steadily getting worse," she said nervously.

After lunch, Penny went to the newspaper office to inquire if Mr. DeWitt

had any special assignment for her.

"Nothing right now," he said, rapidly scanning a page of copy. "But stick

around. Anything may break."

Penny waited, growing increasingly restless. She was certain DeWitt had

forgotten all about her, when he slammed down a telephone receiver and

glanced in her direction.

"Go out on the street and see what's doing," he ordered. "Might check the

police station, too, on your way in."

Penny nodded and went out through the barrier gate. The feel of the

approaching hurricane was in the air. Walking toward the river, she saw

blue-green water boiling into sinister white foam where it vaulted onto

the docks.

Pedestrians were few in number and all hurrying. Business was at a

standstill. Shutters were going up over plate glass windows, and street

signs were being taken down.

Penny wandered about for a time and then, as a fine rain began to fall,

sought the police station. Checking routine reports, she noted four

injury cases caused by flying objects, several thefts of property, and

more than the usual number of automobile accidents.

At the office once more, she wrote an impressionist account of what she

had seen, then waited for another assignment.

"Penny, you may as well go home while you can get there," DeWitt said

presently. "City Traction is shutting off service at six o'clock, and

after that you won't be able to take a bus."

At another time Penny might have been disappointed to be sent home when

exciting news was breaking, but dismissal now fitted neatly into her

plans. She was determined to make one last investigation of the thatched

roof cottage at the Rhett mansion. However, to beat the storm, she must

move fast.

Going out the door, Penny met Jerry who had just come in from the river

front. His felt hat was dripping wet.

"It's getting nasty outside," he remarked. "How are you going home,

Penny? By bus?"

"Eventually, but not just now," she grinned. "First, I have a little

errand at the Rhetts'."

"Better skip it," he advised. "This storm is the real McCoy."

"Can't afford to, Jerry. I want to look over that thatched cottage once

more. If I don't do it now, it probably won't be there by tomorrow."

"If you're set on going out there, better make it a speedy trip," Jerry

returned. "The storm is rolling in fast."

Reaching the mansion twenty minutes later, Penny was surprised to see an

unfamiliar automobile parked on the Rhett driveway. As she went up the

front walk, the door opened, and three men came outside. Without noticing

the girl, they entered the car and drove away.

"Wonder who they are and what brought them here?" Penny mused.

In response to her knock, Celeste opened the door. Seeing Penny, the

woman tried to close it in her face, but the girl pushed boldly past her

into the hallway.

Penny purposely had worn the black packet on a string around her neck.

While Celeste was closing the door, she pulled it from her dress front,

and then opened her raincoat so that the housekeeper could not fail to

see the object.

Celeste's eyes instantly riveted upon the dangling packet.

"My good luck charm!" said Penny. "Someone gave it to me last night!"

Celeste's lips dropped apart to show her uneven teeth.

"It is an evil packet!" she hissed. "If you wear it, sickness and death

will pursue you!"

"Not this cookie," chuckled Penny. "You see, I don't believe such

nonsense. Whoever tossed this thing through my window went to a lot of

trouble for nothing."

Celeste's face, an interesting study in mixed emotions, suddenly became a

blank mask. Hearing footsteps, the woman mumbled something and scurried

away.

Lorinda came down the stairway. "Oh, Penny!" she exclaimed, grasping her

hand. "I'm so glad you came! We're in such trouble!"

"Your mother is worse?"

"Yes, she is failing rapidly, and the visit of those three bankers upset

her dreadfully."

"The men I met on the walk?"

"Yes, they're members of the First National Bank board. They told Mother

she must make up the $250,000 bond loss within forty-eight hours, or my

stepfather will be exposed as a thief, and the estate sued! It seems Mr.

Potts convinced them my stepfather had the bonds when he disappeared."

"What will your mother do?"

"What can she do? Nearly all of her property is in real estate. She might

be able to raise $30,000 cash within the required time, but never the

amount they demand."

"You've heard nothing from your stepfather?"

"Not a word. The police haven't contributed any worthwhile clues either.

They didn't go deeply into the case."

"Can you blame them? You and your mother withheld facts and discouraged

them at every turn."

"I know."

"Why did you do it?"

"I thought you understood," Lorinda answered in a low voice. "Mother and

my stepfather quarreled violently on that last day at the bank. She

didn't want the truth to get out, so she tried to keep from answering

questions."

"Then your stepfather disappeared as a result of the quarrel?"

"I don't know. It is a possibility."

"You believe your stepfather may have stolen the bonds?"

"Oh, no! Never! He may have had them on his person when he went away or

was spirited off, but I am sure he is no thief!"

Shutters were flapping in the wind. The porch furniture had not been

brought into the house, and through the window, Penny saw that many

loose, breakable objects remained in the garden. Abruptly changing the

subject, she said:

"Lorinda, the storm is getting worse every minute. Can't we bring in the

porch furniture?"

"I told Anton to do it early this morning. He went off somewhere. Celeste

has been no help either. They're both acting so independent."

"We don't need their help. Come! We can do it together."

Lorinda put on her rain cape and they went out onto the porch. Already

the rug was rain soaked. They rolled it up and carried it to the

basement, where they also took the furniture. Deciding it was too late to

do anything about nailing down the shutters or taking them off, they

brought in loose objects from the yard.

In passing the library, Penny noticed that a window was open. The curtain

was drenched and rain was pouring in upon the floor.

With a cry of dismay, she ran to close it. As she turned around, she saw

at once that the wall safe was exposed to view, and open.

"Lorinda!" she called.

Her friend came quickly to the doorway. "Anything wrong?" she inquired.

Penny directed her gaze toward the safe. "Did you leave it open?" she

asked.

"No!" With a startled exclamation, Lorinda darted across the room. She

thrust her arm into the circular opening, and withdrew it empty.

"The Zudi drum is gone!" she announced. "It's been stolen!"

CHAPTER

20

_TWELVE STEPS DOWN_

The news did not astonish Penny for she had anticipated it. She said

quietly:

"Lorinda, surely now you'll call in the police? The Zudi drum must be a

very valuable trophy."

"It is. Yes, I suppose the only thing to do is notify police

headquarters."

Lorinda went to a telephone, but although she tried many times, she was

unable to contact the operator. "The line must be down," she reported.

"The wire sounds dead."

"Then we're isolated here until after the storm. Lorinda, why don't you

question Celeste and Anton?"

"It would be useless."

"Let me do it."

"Go ahead, but they'll not tell you anything," Lorinda said despairingly.

"Anton and Celeste have been interested in the Zudi drum ever since they

came here, but I've never known them to steal."

"Did they know the safe combination?"

"Not unless they learned it the last few days. I noticed that Celeste

watches lately whenever anyone enters or leaves the library."

"Then she may have obtained the combination. I know she was tampering

with the dial yesterday. Where is she now?"

"In the kitchen, I suppose."

Celeste, however, was not to be found there, nor was she in any of the

upstairs bedrooms, or in her own room on the first floor adjoining the

garage.

"I don't know where she and Anton went," Lorinda declared, deeply

troubled. "I hate to accuse them without proof, but it does look as if

they're the only ones who could have stolen the drum!"

"How about the trophies at the thatched roof cottage? Are they safe?"

"Let's find out," Lorinda proposed. "Wait, I'll get the key.

Incidentally, it was mysteriously returned to my stepfather's room

yesterday."

She returned with the key in a moment, and the girls ran down the

slippery path through the falling rain. The whine of a steadily rising

wind was in their ears as they opened the cottage door and stepped

inside.

Lorinda looked carefully about. "Everything seems to be here--" she

began, only to correct herself. "No, the crossed machetes which were on

the wall! They're gone!"

"And the rattle!" exclaimed Penny. "Where is it?"

Lorinda pulled out the wooden chest and raised the lid. "The altar cloth

is missing and any number of things! Almost everything has been taken!"

In the midst of checking over the few remaining objects in the chest,

Lorinda suddenly raised her head.

"Listen!" she commanded.

At first, Penny could distinguish only the whistle of the wind, then she

became aware of a low rumbling murmur which seemed to come from the very

walls of the cottage.

"It's a chant!" whispered Lorinda. "I can hear drums too, as if from a

long distance away!"

A little frightened, neither girl spoke for a while. The strange sound

died away, then was resumed. This time they distinctly could hear the

thumping of drums.

Penny went to the door of the cottage to listen. Outside there was only

the whine of the wind and the crashing of tree branches.

"Lorinda, this cottage must have a secret passage!" she declared

excitedly. "I thought so before, and now I'm certain of it!"

Already Lorinda was down on hands and knees before the fireplace, tapping

the tiles. They gave forth a hollow sound. However, she could find no

opening.

Penny removed a huge black kettle from hanging chains, and peered up into

the chimney. Her groping hand encountered a rod which she assumed

controlled the draft. She pulled on it. The floor beneath her feet

suddenly gave way, and she would have pitched through the opening had not

Lorinda seized her arms and held her.

Scrambling back to solid flooring, Penny peered down into the dark

opening where the hearth had been. The tiles were only a sham, she saw

now, fastened to a hinged rectangle of wood, which had fallen back like a

trap door.

Steep stone steps led down into inky darkness.

"Why, I never dreamed this was here!" Lorinda whispered. "It must have

been built that summer Mother and I were away!"

The sound of drums and incantations came plainly now. Neither Penny nor

Lorinda was eager to investigate the passage. They feared that they might

encounter something with which they would be unable to cope. But to

retreat was equally unthinkable.

Penny found the cocoanut shell lamp and lit the floating wick. Moving

ahead, she cautiously descended the stone steps. Lorinda kept close

beside her.

Twelve steps led almost straight down. There the girls found themselves

in a bricked-over passageway, so narrow they could barely squeeze

through. However, after they had gone a few yards, it widened a little.

"Where do you suppose this leads?" Penny whispered. "To the river?"

"Probably. It seems to me the sound of the drums came from that

direction."

The weird noises no longer could be heard and the silence disturbed the

girls. Could it be that in entering the tunnel they had revealed their

presence? Nervous and tense, they moved forward at a snail's pace,

feeling their way along the wall and taking care to make no betraying

sound.

The tunnel led downhill. In places the roof was so low the girls were

forced to bend double to pass through. The walls were damp and crumbly

and, at points near the roof, water dripped steadily.

Then presently Penny halted, shifting the lamp to her other hand. The

passage had widened into a tiny room from which two tunnels branched.

"Which shall we take?" she asked Lorinda.

They selected the wider of the two, which soon proved a deception.

Scarcely had they left the little dugout than it narrowed until they were

barely able to edge through.

"Shall we turn back and try the other?" Penny suggested.

Lorinda wanted to keep on. "We're moving uphill now," she pointed out. "I

suspect this must lead either to the house or the road."

Her guess proved to be correct. Another twenty yards and the tunnel

terminated abruptly in front of a door. It opened readily. A dozen

roughly carved steps led upward to a trap door. Penny pushed it aside and

blinking owlishly, climbed out into a bedroom.

She saw then that the trap door had been cut in the center of the room

floor, hidden from view by a large rag rug which now lay in an untidy

heap.

"Why, we're in Celeste's room!" Lorinda exclaimed as she too emerged.

"Adjoining the garage!"

"This explains quite a few things to me," remarked Penny.

"And to me! Celeste must have known about this passage all the time, but

she never hinted of it to Mother or me!"

"If you ask my opinion, Celeste not only has known about the passage,

she's been using it regularly," declared Penny, gazing curiously about

the room.

The bed had been carelessly made, and a red bandana handkerchief had been

left hanging on one of the wooden posts. On the dresser were a number of

objects which drew the girls' attention. From the pin tray Penny picked

up a tiny black feather and there were strips of torn black cloth which

exactly matched the packet she wore about her neck.

"This proves it!" she exclaimed. "Celeste made the evil charm which was

thrown through my window last night!"

"Charm?" Lorinda inquired. "Penny, what are you talking about?"

Penny showed her the packet and explained how it had been hurled through

the window pane. "I'm sure Celeste had Anton do it or perhaps she tossed

it herself. At any rate, she made the packet to frighten me, only it

didn't work."

"Unless Celeste can explain matters satisfactorily, I'll turn her over to

the police!" Lorinda said angrily.

"Finding her may not be so easy now. Also getting her into police custody

may take a little doing. I'm afraid we've waited too long, Lorinda."

"No, we'll find her!" Lorinda announced with determination. "After all,

she doesn't know how much we have learned. Let's investigate the other

passageway."

"All right," Penny agreed, "but this lamp isn't much good. We need a

flashlight."

"I have one in my room. I'll get it, see if Mother is all right, and be

right back."

Lorinda was gone less than five minutes. "Mother is sleeping, so it's

safe to leave her," she reported. "Here's the flash, but I couldn't find

an extra battery."

Descending into the passageway, the girls retraced their steps to the

tiny dugout midway between the thatched roof cottage and the mansion. As

they entered the other tunnel, they again heard the throb of jungle

drums, and the weird incantation of many guttural voices.

"A chant to the Serpent God!" whispered Lorinda. "Do you hear that

high-pitched drum which sounds above the others?"

Penny nodded as she moved forward in the dark, narrow passage.

"It is the Zudi," Lorinda added. "I would know its tone anywhere! We must

recover it, but if what I think is so, it will be a dangerous task!"

CHAPTER

21

_CEREMONIAL CAVE_

The tunnel sloped gently downward, apparently toward the river beach. As

the girls moved along, the pulsing of the drums came with increasing

crescendo. They could hear the wailing chant plainly now, an incantation

in which many voices were united.

"Better switch off the light," Lorinda advised in a whisper. "We're

getting close."

Penny darkened the flashlight, groping her way along the damp, rocky

wall. The passage now had widened, and suddenly ahead, she saw the

flickering flame of a torch.

In the shadowy light swayed a half dozen celebrants of the weird rites.

The room was circular, a cavern carved from the rocks years before by the

action of water.

Penny's gaze focused upon the dancing figures. Anton, barefooted and

grotesque with a red turban wound about his head, led the procession,

beating out a rhythm and shaking the gourd rattle which had been stolen

from the thatched cottage.

Behind him came a drummer Penny did not recognize, and three other

dancers, who carried aloft a banner upon which were metallic, glittering

serpentine symbols.

But it was Celeste, garbed in scarlet with an embroidered stole over her

shoulders, who dominated the scene. Seated before an altar where two tall

candles burned, she pounded out the basic rhythm on a long, narrow drum.

"The Zudi!" whispered Lorinda. "She stole it from the safe!"

"Let's make her give it up!"

"No! No!" Lorinda grasped Penny's arm, holding her back. "It would be

folly to show ourselves now. Anton, Celeste and their stupid converts are

hypnotized by their own music. If they knew we were watching their rites,

there's no telling what they would do."

"Celeste is a cruel, dangerous woman."

"We'll turn her over to the police. I realize now it's the only thing to

do."

Fascinated, the girls watched the strange sight. The drums were beating

faster now, and at each boom of the Zudi, Anton leaped with frenzied glee

rigid as an arrow into the air.

"Who are the others?" Penny whispered.

Lorinda shook her head. "No-good friends of Anton and Celeste probably,"

she returned. "Recruits from the slums of Riverview."

On the altar were many objects, a basket of bread, a basin of cooked

fish, a carved wooden serpent and a wreath of feathers. A kettle

contained a brew from which the dancers at intervals dipped with a gourd

cup and drank.

Outside the cave, the wind howled an accompaniment to the wild ceremony,

covering the shrill shrieks and savage laughter.

"We've seen enough of this!" whispered Penny. "Let's get the police and

break it up!"

"All right," agreed Lorinda. "I hate to turn Anton and Celeste over to

the authorities, but I'm convinced now they have reverted to heathen

ways, and may even be responsible for Mother's sickness."

They started to retreat, making no sound. In the darkness Lorinda

stumbled over a small rock. She made no outcry as she saved herself from

a fall, but her shoes scuffed noisily and her body thudded heavily

against the wall.

Instantly the Zudi drum ceased its rhythm. "What was that?" they heard

Celeste ask sharply.

The girls huddled against the wall. An instant later, Anton, a torch in

his hand, peered down the tunnel.

His cry told the girls they had been seen. In panic, they started down

the passageway with Anton in hot pursuit. And close at his heels came

Celeste and her followers.

Escape was impossible. Before the girls had gone a half dozen yards they

were overtaken. Though they struggled to free themselves, Anton's grasp

was like a steel bracelet upon their arms. They were half dragged back to

the cave.

"Anton! Celeste! What is the meaning of this?" Lorinda demanded, seeking

to regain control of the servants by sheer power of will.

She tried to shake herself free, but Anton did not release her. He

awaited the word of his wife.

"Tie them up!" said Celeste harshly.

"Celeste, have you lost your mind!" Lorinda cried.

In the flickering light of the torch, the woman's face was like a rigid

mask. Eyes burned with hatred; cheeks were deeply indrawn. Lorinda felt

as if she were gazing upon a stranger, and suddenly was afraid.

"You dared to steal Father's drum!" she challenged.

"It is now my drum," retorted Celeste.

"You spied upon me many times until you learned the combination of the

safe!" Lorinda accused.

Celeste did not deny the charge. She was burrowing behind the low altar

and from the box-like structure drew forth a long stout cord. Severing it

with the blade of a sharp knife, she handed the two pieces to Anton who

attempted to tie Lorinda's hands behind her.

The girl fought like a wild cat, and Penny, held by one of Celeste's

followers, sought to free herself, but it was useless. She too was

tightly bound and thrown down on the floor of the cave.

"Celeste, why are you doing this cruel thing?" Lorinda asked in a

pleading tone. "Does it mean nothing to you that Father brought you here,

fed you, clothed you--gave you many advantages?"

For a moment Celeste softened and seemed to hesitate. Lorinda was quick

to press the advantage.

"My father and my mother have been very kind to you--"

Mention of her mother's name proved unfortunate. Celeste's face hardened

into rigid lines again and she said furiously:

"I hate her! May her flesh rot away and her bones be torn asunder!"

"Celeste! And to think we ever trusted you! Mother is ill because you

have willed it so--it was you who made the wicked effigy doll--you who

kept planting in her mind the idea that she would become ill and die!"

"And I have the will too!" the woman said gleefully. "I told Anton to get

it from the library! Then I called you to your mother's room so he could

snatch it from the table!"

"But why did you do it, Celeste? What have you gained?"

"You will not steal my master's money! The will is destroyed--burned!"

"Steal my stepfather's money? Indeed, you are out of your mind, Celeste!

My stepfather has disappeared and may never be seen again."

"He lives."

"How do you know?" Lorinda cried eagerly.

"Celeste know--feel it here." The woman touched her breast.

"You've seen him--talked to him since he went away!" Lorinda accused.

"No!"

"Then unless you've had a message from him, you couldn't know whether he

is alive or dead."

"Celeste know," the woman replied stubbornly. "We save the money for

him."

"If my stepfather returns I'll be perfectly happy for him to have

Mother's estate. You're all mixed up, Celeste. Now let's put an end to

this nonsense. Free us!"

"No," retorted the grim woman. "Celeste and Anton go away now. Perhaps

find master. You will stay in cave."

"Celeste, how did you know about this passage and cave?" Lorinda asked,

stalling for time.

"Anton help build it."

"But why should my stepfather build the passageway?" Lorinda murmured.

"It doesn't seem like him."

Celeste did not answer. Gathering up the machete, the Zudi drum, the

embroidered altar cloth and other stolen treasures, she prepared to

leave.

"It was you who whispered the warning at the thatched cottage!" accused

Penny. "You wanted to prevent discovery of this cave!"

Celeste's cruel smile acknowledged the truth. Saying something to Anton

in their own language, she padded off down the passageway.

All save Anton now had gone. He blew out the altar candles, picked up the

pine torch and would have blown out the cocoanut shell lamp, had Penny

not said pleadingly:

"Please leave us a tiny light, Anton. It will be so dark here in the

cave."

The man hesitated, glancing down the passage as if fearful Celeste would

punish him for such a display of weakness. But he did as Penny requested.

First, however, he noted that the lamp was nearly empty of oil and could

not burn many minutes. Without extinguishing it, he disappeared into the

tunnel.

Waiting only until she was certain Celeste, Anton and their converts were

out of the passage, Lorinda said excitedly:

"They forgot to gag us! We can shout for help!"

"With a hurricane roaring outside, it's a waste of breath," replied

Penny. "No one will be on the beach tonight, and our voices wouldn't

carry a dozen yards."

"Then what are we to do? Anton and Celeste mean to run away now. The

police never will be able to find them unless we act quickly."

"I have an idea, but it may not work."

Penny, her hands and feet securely tied, began to roll toward the

cocoanut oil lamp.

"What are you trying to do?" Lorinda asked anxiously.

"Maybe I can burn the cords on my wrists. That's why I asked Anton to

leave the lamp."

"Perhaps you can!" cried Lorinda, taking hope. "But it will be dangerous

and very hard to do. The oil is almost gone. You'll have to work fast,

Penny, or you'll lose your chance!"

CHAPTER

22

_STRANGER IN THE STORM_

Penny squirmed and rolled until her hands were very close to the cocoanut

oil lamp on the rocky floor of the cave.

"Be careful!" Lorinda cried fearfully. "If your clothing should catch

fire, nothing could save you."

Penny held her hands, which were bound behind her back, over the flame.

The heat seared her flesh and made her wince with pain.

"Keep it up, Penny!" encouraged her companion. "The cord is catching

fire! But the lamp is almost out!"

Penny gritted her teeth and endured the pain. Then the lamp sputtered and

went out, leaving the cave to darkness.

"Oh!" wailed Lorinda in bitter disappointment.

Penny tugged at the wrist cords. Although not severed, they were half

burned through and weakened. A hard jerk freed her hands.

Only a moment then was required to untie the cords which held her feet.

Next she freed Lorinda. As the girls started to leave through the

passageway, Penny felt a cold blast of air upon her neck. Looking up, she

was able to distinguish a small opening in the wall of the cave.

"Maybe we can get out there!" she exclaimed. "Give me a boost and I'll

see!"

Lorinda lifted her up. Scrambling like a monkey, Penny secured a toe hold

and crammed her head and shoulders through the opening. A moment later

she ducked back to call to her friend:

"We can get out all right! But the storm is getting awful! I'll crawl out

and then help you."

Scrambling through the narrow opening, Penny found herself amid the high

rocks overlooking the beach. The wind was blowing in puffs, each so

powerful that she nearly was dislodged from her precarious perch.

Reaching back through the hole, Penny offered her arms to Lorinda who

succeeded in joining her. They huddled in the lee of an overhanging rock,

rain driving into their faces.

"We must get word to the police!" Penny said breathlessly.

"And I must make certain Mother is safe!" Lorinda added. "She's been left

too long alone. Anton and Celeste may have gone back there, and in that

case, anything might happen!"

Slipping and sliding, the girls descended the rocks to the beach. The

river, lashed by a sheet of rain, was dark and ugly. Much of the sand had

been inundated and water bubbled at their heels as they ran toward the

road.

A car swung toward them, its headlights blurred by the rain. It parked at

the curb, and the driver tooted several times as if in signal.

"That looks like Jerry's car!" Penny cried hopefully.

It was, indeed, the reporter. He swung open the automobile door, and as

they recognized him, they dashed across the road and gratefully slid into

the shelter offered.

"Don't you girls know better than to be running around at a time like

this?" Jerry demanded severely. "Lucky I saw you streaking up the beach!"

"What brought you here?" Penny gasped, taking several deep breaths.

"What brought me? Say, don't you realize we're in for a real storm, and

it's almost here! The radio ten minutes ago reported that Oelwein, on the

coast, has been completely destroyed! I knew you came here to do a little

sleuthing, Penny, and I figured someone ought to look after you."

"Thanks, Jerry," she returned gratefully. "We were in trouble--plenty of

it."

As the reporter drove on toward the Rhett mansion, Penny quickly revealed

what had happened. Jerry made little comment, but his expression was

grim.

"Maybe Anton and Celeste are here," he said as the car reached the Rhett

home. "If they are, we'll round 'em up."

Celeste and Anton, however, were not to be found in the mansion. Their

rooms remained deserted and there was no indication that they had

returned to the house after leaving the cave.

Lorinda lost not a moment in hastening to her mother's bedroom. To her

relief, Mrs. Rhett was sleeping quietly and did not awaken.

"Thank goodness, she is safe," the girl murmured. "After what happened in

the cave, I feared the worst."

"We ought to get the police on the trail of Anton and Celeste before they

make their escape," Jerry urged. "Once the full force of this storm

strikes, no one will be able to stir outside."

He tried the telephone but the line remained dead. "I'll drive to the

police station," he decided. "Are you girls coming along?"

"I'll stay with Mother," Lorinda said. "She mustn't be left alone."

Penny hesitated, intending to remain with her friend, but Jerry seized

her by the arm. "Your father sent me out here to round you up, so I'll

take you to the newspaper office," he declared. "Let's go!"

As they opened the front door, rain poured in and a great blast of wind

nearly swept the pair from their feet.

"Wow!" exclaimed the reporter, holding tight to Penny as with heads

lowered, they ran for the car. "This is it!"

The air was filled with flying objects, and a shingle loosened from the

mansion roof, hurtled against Penny. Jerry pulled the car door open. The

wind seized it, nearly wrenching it off the hinges. Gusts were of greater

velocity now, with the intervals much shorter.

For a dreadful moment, Penny and Jerry thought the car would not start.

The reporter jammed his foot on the starter again and again and gave it

the full choke. Suddenly, the motor caught.

As they drove off along the river road, the force of the wind was so

great it required all of Jerry's strength to keep the car straight on the

road.

"We'll be lucky if we reach the police station!" he exclaimed. "This is a

lot worse than I figured."

"Jerry!"

Seizing the reporter's arm, Penny pointed to a crouched figure visible on

the road ahead. The woman, hair flying in wild streamers, clutched a

large object in her arms, and was bent almost double as she sought to

move against the wind.

"It's Celeste!" Penny cried.

Jerry brought the car to the roadside almost beside the servant. Not

until Penny and the reporter were out of the automobile and almost upon

her, did she see them. Then with a startled cry, she turned to flee. But

it was too late. Jerry seized her by the arm.

"You're coming with us!" he ordered sharply.

Battered and frightened by the force of the wind, Celeste, surprisingly,

made no protest. Clutching the big Zudi drum, she allowed Jerry and Penny

to pull her into the shelter of the car.

"Where is Anton?" the reporter demanded.

Celeste's answer was a shrug. She gazed toward the mansion grounds, and

ignored the pair.

Jerry drove on. He glanced significantly at Penny who guessed that he

intended to take Celeste directly to the police station.

However, as they approached the downtown section, the wind blew with even

greater power. Not a vehicle was to be seen on the streets. The _Star_

building loomed up, but the police station was six blocks away.

"We can't make it," Jerry decided. "I'm turning in here."

One of the double doors of the _Star_ garage, where trucks were usually

loaded with their papers, stood open. He drove inside, pulling up near

the entrance to the newspaper pressroom on the ground floor.

Celeste stirred to life, and made a move to get out of the car.

"Oh, no you don't!" said Jerry, pushing her back. "You and that drum stay

with us."

Celeste was of a different opinion. Glaring at Jerry, she slapped at him,

and again tried to get her hand on the door handle.

"We can't hold her here," Jerry said. "But I have an idea! Penny, see if

the pressroom door is unlocked."

Penny ran to test it and found it unlocked. Now that the extra was out,

the pressmen had gathered in a far corner of the big room filled with

giant rotary presses, to smoke and watch the storm.

Racing back to the car, Penny made her report.

"Good!" exclaimed Jerry.

With Penny's help, he got Celeste out of the car, separating her from the

Zudi drum which they left in the automobile. The woman stubbornly refused

to walk, so Jerry lifted her bodily and carried her kicking and

struggling into the pressroom.

Near the door was a large storage closet where tools and oil for the

presses were kept. Jerry shoved Celeste into this room and turned a key

in the lock.

"That will hold her," he observed. "While you lock the Zudi drum in the

car, I'll talk to the press foreman and tell him what we've done. Then

Celeste can squawk her head off and it will do no good. We'll keep her

here until the storm lets up and we can get a police squad to pick her

up."

Penny ran back to the loading garage. It was deserted now save for a lone

delivery truck which stood directly in front of the paper chute. Although

his cargo was loaded, the driver hesitated to try to deliver until the

storm abated.

Locking the car, Penny decided she would close the one big double garage

door where rain was blowing in.

The hurricane now roared in full fury. Peering out into the deserted

street, it seemed to Penny that no person could stand against its

strength. Yet as she closed the doors, she was amazed to see a scurrying

figure.

The man, his hat gone, overcoat whipped between his legs, grasped a

corner of the building for support.

Seeing his face, Penny drew in her breath sharply. A small jagged scar

disfigured one cheek. As he struggled past the door, she reached out and

grasped his arm.

"Come in here out of the wind," she urged. As she gazed directly into his

eyes, she added distinctly: "We have been looking for you a long while,

Mr. Rhett!"

CHAPTER

23

_IN THE PRESSROOM_

"You have made a mistake," the man mumbled. "I am not Mr. Rhett. My name

is Brown--Edgar Brown."

Penny, none too certain of the identification, gazed at the man's hands.

They were soft and white as if unaccustomed to hard work, but he wore no

serpent ring on any of his fingers. She felt certain this was the man she

had met at the steamship office.

The stranger pulled gently away from her grasp, ready to start out into

the howling wind once more.

"You'll be swept off your feet if you try to battle that storm!" Penny

protested. "You must stay here until the worst of it is over!"

"But I am not Mr. Rhett."

"Never mind about that," said Penny. "I mistook you for someone else.

Just come inside and I'll close the doors."

The man peered outside once more, and noting the intensity of the storm,

lost all desire to leave the shelter. He moved away from the entrance,

and Penny closed the big, heavy door.

"Come along with me into the pressroom where it is warm," she invited.

Without comment, the man followed her across the cement toward the

loading docks. At the other end of the drive, someone opened the doors

for a moment to allow a truck to roll inside. A great gust of wind tore

through the passage, and sent the stranger's hat careening into a corner.

He darted to recapture it. As he stooped to pick it up, an object on a

string which he wore about his neck, swung from beneath his sport shirt.

Quickly he pushed it out of sight again, but not before Penny had seen

the ring and recognized the serpent design.

"He _is_ Mr. Rhett!" she thought, her pulse pounding.

Wisely, she pretended to have observed nothing, and invited him into the

pressroom where Jerry was waiting. Celeste, still locked in the storage

closet, was rattling the door knob and kicking on the panel with all her

strength.

"Jerry," said Penny, dropping her bombshell. "This is Mr. Rhett."

The reporter's mouth dropped agape, while the stranger plainly showed his

annoyance.

"I told you I am not Mr. Rhett."

"Then kindly explain the significance of that ring you wear around your

neck. I saw it only a moment ago."

The stranger became confused. "My ring--" he stammered. "Oh, that! An

heirloom. I have had it for years."

"Please tell us the truth," pleaded Penny.

"I know nothing about this man you call Mr. Rhett," he replied, avoiding

her direct gaze. "Evidently you have someone locked up here. Suppose you

explain the meaning."

"Gladly," replied Penny. "We do have someone imprisoned in the storage

room ready to turn over to the police as soon as the storm lets up. It is

Celeste."

"Celeste!" The stranger's amazed expression betrayed him. Although he

added: "And who is she?" it was unconvincing.

"Mr. Rhett, why pretend?" Penny demanded. "We know who you are."

"Very well," said the man, smiling faintly. "So I am Mr. Rhett! I assume

you two are reporters for the _Star_."

"Right," agreed Jerry.

"And you want a story. Well, there's no story. Since you have me dead to

rights as they say, I'll not deny I am Hamilton Rhett. However, my

identity is my own affair. I stepped out of my old life--the bank and my

home--because I was tired of a very boring existence. I never was cut to

the cloth of a banker. I dislike being shut up indoors even for an hour.

Probably I shall return to South America."

"You say it is your own affair," Penny remarked pointedly. "I am afraid

it isn't. Aren't you forgetting a little matter of $250,000?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"I refer to that sum in negotiable bonds which you had in your possession

at the time you left the bank."

Mr. Rhett did not seem to understand for a moment. Then he exclaimed:

"Oh, the bonds! I was to have returned them to the vault, but it slipped

my mind. You will find them in the top desk drawer in my office."

"The desk has been carefully searched. The bonds are not there."

"Not there?" For the first time Mr. Rhett seemed disturbed. "But they

must be, unless they were stolen after I went away!"

"The bonds have not been found, and the bank trustees are pressing your

family to make restitution. Furthermore, your wife is dangerously ill."

"My wife sick? What is wrong?"

"The doctors do not know. However, Lorinda burned an effigy doll made in

your wife's image--she found it in the house. Two burned match sticks

tied together also were found by Mrs. Rhett. For some reason she became

obsessed with the idea she was doomed to a lingering fatal illness. She

began to refuse food and since then has gone steadily downhill."

"The work of Celeste!"

"We think so. Tonight she stole the Zudi drum, and Lorinda and I found

her with Anton and other followers celebrating their rites in a cave near

the beach."

"Then they have reverted to their heathen ways!" the banker exclaimed.

"My wife always said Celeste hated her, but I, like a blind fool, refused

to see it. Once during the years I spent in the jungle, Celeste saved my

life and I always felt grateful to her. Now I must forget that, for she

is a dangerous woman if she seeks to practice her jungle magic."

"You don't actually believe Celeste could make your wife ill merely by

suggestion?" Jerry inquired in amazement.

"In the jungles I have seen a native die from superficial wounds. If told

the spear which struck him had been sung over by an enemy, the native

would simply lie down, refuse food and pine away. My wife is in great

danger!"

"Can nothing be done?" cried Penny.

Mr. Rhett's face tightened into hard, grim lines. "A great deal can be

done," he said. "But Celeste must be fought with her own jungle weapons.

To turn her over to the police will not be sufficient. She is inside the

closet you say--let me talk to her."

"Okay," agreed Jerry, "but Celeste in her present mood is a pretty brisk

customer. To make sure she doesn't get away, I'll lock the pressroom door

before letting her out of her cage."

As the reporter went to the exit, Penny heard the pressmen at the other

end of the room shout that the storm had abated.

"The hurricane has not passed," corrected Mr. Rhett quietly. "This lull

merely marks the end of the first phase. The wind will return harder than

ever in a few minutes from another quarter."

Jerry returned, and taking the key to the storage room from his pocket,

cautiously unlocked the door. Celeste, blinking like an owl as she

staggered out under the electric lights, gasped as she saw Mr. Rhett.

"Master!" she exclaimed worshipfully. "You come back!"

Mr. Rhett's face showed no trace of the affection he had felt for his

servant. "Celeste," he said, "you've been dabbling in magic again! What's

this nonsense about my wife being ill and going to die?"

"The truth, Master. Anton and I try hard to save her, but no use. She die

next month. Maybe sooner."

"Get this through your head, Celeste. My wife will not die. She will be

as well as you are within two days. All your incantations over the doll

were wasted. You plotted to no avail. I am home now, and if you persist

in your wickedness, I will meet your so-called magic with stronger magic

of my own!"

"Celeste sorry," the old woman whimpered. "Do it only to get money for

master."

"I need no money and want none. You have been very wicked, Celeste, and

must be turned over to the police for safe keeping."

"Oh, no, Master! Not the police!"

"Yes, and now is the time to take you there during this lull in the

storm."

Celeste's wild eyes darted about the room, searching for a means of

escape. With a savage lunge, she reached the door only to find it locked.

As Jerry and Mr. Rhett bore down upon her, she scurried frantically along

the outer room wall, coming to the metal paper chute through which

packages of freshly-printed papers were tossed for delivery.

Quick as a cat, Celeste scrambled into the chute, crawling through on all

fours. At the chute's exit on the sheltered cement drive, stood the

waiting paper truck, its rear door ajar. Already loaded, the driver

awaited only this lull in the storm before setting off to deliver his

cargo.

Even as Celeste crawled through the chute, the man started the truck

engine. The woman did not hesitate. Leaping into the rear of the vehicle,

she slammed the door.

Hearing it close, the driver assumed another workman had shut it as a

signal for him to pull out. Shifting gears, he drove away with his cargo

of papers--and Celeste.

CHAPTER

24

_THE GRINNING GARGOYLE_

By the time Jerry, Penny and Mr. Rhett unlocked the pressroom door and

reached the loading dock, the truck bearing Celeste was far down the

street.

"Hey, where'd that truck go?" the reporter shouted to another workman at

the far end of the drive.

"Docks at the end of Basset Street," he answered. "A batch o' papers go

aboard the _Monclove_ for shipment to Presque Isle."

Jerry's car stood close by. He sprang in, making room for Penny and Mr.

Rhett.

The newspaper truck had disappeared by the time they drove out on the

street. Jerry took a short-cut route to the Basset Street docks. Signs

and debris of all description cluttered the roadway. Rain had ceased, but

the ominous quiet, the heaviness of the air, was even more frightening

than the wind had been.

In a distant section of the city they heard the high-pitched whistle of a

police siren; otherwise, the streets were as silent as the tomb.

The car turned a corner, and directly ahead Penny glimpsed the newspaper

truck.

"There it is!" she cried, but Jerry also had seen the vehicle.

He put on speed, and was close behind as the truck pulled up with a jerk

at Dock 12. Green water whipped to foam, crashed with heavy impact

against the dock posts and flooded out on the slippery planking.

"We won't have much time!" Mr. Rhett exclaimed. "When the next phase of

the storm comes--and it's close now--the wind will be terrific!"

The men, with Penny close behind, leaped from the car. Quick as they

were, Celeste was out of the truck before they could reach its door.

She stopped short as she saw the trio, then like a trapped animal, turned

and fled in the opposite direction.

"Celeste!" Mr. Rhett shouted. "Wait!"

The woman paid no attention. Splashing ankle-deep through water that

washed the dock planks, she ran precariously close to the river's edge.

A hoarse shout from behind caused Penny to turn. The driver of the truck

was gesturing and pointing first to the dark sky and then to an open

shed. For a moment she did not understand, but as he ran for the shelter,

she heard the deep-throated roar of the hurricane as it returned for its

final onslaught.

"Quick!" cried Mr. Rhett who also recognized the danger. "Inside!"

The three ran back to the shed where the truck-driver had taken shelter.

Although they shouted again and again to Celeste, she ignored their

warnings.

As the wind struck, they saw her at the very edge of the dock. She half

turned toward the shed as if debating whether or not to seek its shelter,

then took a step or two in the opposite direction.

A great gust lifted off a section of the shed roof and whirled it away.

As the full impact of the wind swept around the building, Celeste clung

to a dock post for an instant; then her fingers lost their grip, and with

a scream, she toppled over the edge into the churning water.

Jerry started toward the door, but Mr. Rhett seized his arm, dragging him

back.

"Don't be a fool! Celeste is beyond help! You'll only lose your own life

if you venture out there now!"

Already Celeste had disappeared beneath the turbulent waters, leaving no

trace. Anxiously those in the shed watched but her head never appeared

above the surface.

"Poor Celeste," said Mr. Rhett sadly. "She meant well, but she was

superstitious and misguided. However, she would have pined away in

captivity. Perhaps she went the best way."

The servant's startling death placed a pall upon the four who huddled in

the shed. Close together, they flattened themselves against the wall,

expecting at any moment that the entire building would be lifted from its

foundation and hurled into the river. The force of the wind was almost

unbelievable.

After nearly a half hour, the gusts lost their strength and Mr. Rhett

declared that the greatest danger had been passed.

"Tell me everything that happened while I was away," he requested Penny

and Jerry.

"We will," promised Penny, "but first, suppose you explain why you went

away."

"I thought I did tell you." Mr. Rhett drew a deep sigh. "For many months

I considered retiring from the bank. I discussed it with my wife, but she

failed to see my viewpoint and insisted that I remain. We became

deadlocked, so to speak.

"I tried for her sake to force myself to like bank work, but it was

utterly impossible. Each day I found myself longing for the old carefree

adventurous days."

"So you quietly walked out?" Jerry supplied.

"Something like that. My actions weren't premeditated. One thing led to

another. I had a quarrel with my wife over neglect of bank duties. As I

sat thinking it over at my desk, it struck me that Lorinda and her mother

probably would be happier if I removed myself from the picture."

"Did you write anything as you sat there?" Penny interposed eagerly.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"Did you draw a picture of a plumed serpent?"

"Yes, I believe so, though it was only absent-minded doodling."

"And beneath the drawing you wrote, 'This shall be the end.'"

"Why, yes, I did," the man acknowledged. "I had decided to walk out and

those words expressed the conclusion I reached. I wrote the thought

absent-mindedly and never intended it to fall into anyone's hands. Did I

leave the paper in the desk?"

"The police found it there."

"I must have been quite upset," Mr. Rhett said, frowning. "At any rate, I

walked out with less than three dollars in my pocket, and didn't realize

until later that I was without funds."

"So you took lodging in a cheap flop house on Cherry Street?" Jerry

interposed.

"Yes, you seem to have followed my actions very closely. Although the

lodgings were hardly deluxe, I did not mind the experience. I frequently

have slept on the ground or in native huts."

"You stayed there only one night?" Penny inquired.

"Another lodger told me two persons had come to ask questions about a man

who wore a serpent ring," Mr. Rhett said. "Not wishing to be found, I

removed the ring from my finger, and found another lodging place. When my

money ran out, I picked up a little work as a laborer at one of the

mills."

"I saw you inquiring at one of the steamship ticket offices," Penny

reminded him. "You remember that, I'm sure."

"I sought to work my passage on a boat going to South America," Mr. Rhett

explained.

"All this time, didn't you read the newspapers?" Jerry asked curiously.

"Didn't you know the bonds were missing and that your wife was ill?"

Mr. Rhett shook his head. "I purposely avoided looking at the newspapers.

I was afraid if I did I might be tempted to return to my old life."

"And now?" asked Penny softly.

"I have no future, only the present. Before making any plans, I must

return home to see that my wife frees her mind from Celeste's evil

suggestions. I made a great mistake in bringing Celeste and Anton into

the household. But once my wife knows Celeste is dead, I am confident she

will quickly recover."

"You still love your wife?"

"I shall always love her," he returned quietly, "but she has no use for

me. I've been a drag on her since the day we were married."

"She doesn't feel that way, I'm sure," Penny corrected. "Since you went

away, she's been heartbroken. Lorinda needs you too."

"I can never return to the bank," Mr. Rhett repeated. "And there are the

stolen bonds to be considered. Why, the police may even arrest me! I'm

all mixed up."

"Matters will straighten out as soon as you see your wife," Penny

declared. "However, I'll admit recovering the bonds may not be so easy.

To my knowledge, the police haven't a single clue."

Jerry was peering out the open shed door. "The storm is letting up," he

called. "We'll soon be able to get out of here."

Another half hour and the wind died sufficiently so that the party could

safely leave the shelter. The truck driver returned to the newspaper

office, while Jerry and Penny drove Mr. Rhett to his home.

The mansion yard was cluttered with uprooted trees, boards and debris.

Penny ran down the path a short distance and returned to report that the

thatched roof cottage had vanished without a trace.

"Perhaps it is just as well," said Mr. Rhett. "It was a mistake to build

the cottage, but Celeste first put the idea in my head. I intended to use

it only as a trophy room, but to Celeste it became a living symbol of the

life she had left behind."

"Why did you build the passageway leading to the cave and to Celeste's

room?" Penny inquired.

Mr. Rhett's blank expression told her that he did not understand. After

she had explained, he said grimly: "Anton and Celeste must have dug the

tunnel without my knowledge! Oh, they were a cunning pair!"

"And Anton still is on the loose," Jerry reminded the banker. "We'll have

to notify the police to pick him up."

Mr. Rhett and the young people entered the house. Lorinda, startled by

hearing the front door open, ran to the head of the stairway. Seeing her

stepfather, she gave a cry of joy and raced to meet him.

"You've come back! Oh, Mother needs you so badly. Do go to her at once."

Mr. Rhett needed no urging. He was up the steps two at a time. Jerry and

Penny, not wishing to intrude, remained in the living room, but a few

minutes later, Lorinda called them.

"Oh, everything is wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Mother and Father have

adjusted all their differences. And best of all, she's already half over

the idea she is going to die. Why, he just told her Celeste was dead and

that she could never do any further harm. Mother snapped right out of

it!"

Lorinda insisted that Jerry and Penny go upstairs. Mrs. Rhett was sitting

up in bed, and her eyes were shining.

"How silly I've been," she declared. "As I look back, I realize Celeste

hated me and kept putting ideas in my mind. Why, I feel much better

already."

"Hungry?" asked Lorinda.

"Indeed, I am. I must have a gigantic dinner tonight." Mrs. Rhett laughed

and added: "With everything well salted!"

"About the bank--" began Mr. Rhett.

"Let's not talk about it now," his wife pleaded. "I was wrong about that

too. I'll never ask you to go back there, for it isn't your type of life.

Instead, perhaps we can go away somewhere on a long trip--South America,

would that appeal to you, Hamilton?"

"Would it?" he chuckled. "Someone has been putting ideas in your head,

and this time it wasn't Celeste!"

Anxious to return to the newspaper office and to stop at the police

station, Jerry and Penny soon took leave of the Rhetts, after receiving

urgent invitations to return later that night.

"Well, it appears everything is turning out hunkey dorey for the Rhetts,"

Jerry observed as he and Penny drove away from the mansion. "Anton is

certain to be caught by the police, and those followers of his will be

jailed too if they ever show their faces again."

"Everything _might_ be fine for the Rhetts except for one thing," Penny

returned. "Mrs. Rhett doesn't have much ready cash available, and there

still remains a little matter of $250,000 in missing bonds."

"I'd forgotten about that. You're right, Rhett still is in an awkward

spot."

The car drove into the downtown section where a few vehicles now were

moving. Under the glow of the street lights, workmen were clearing the

debris away.

As the car approached the First National Bank, Penny chanced to raise her

eyes toward the second story balcony fronting the street. The grinning

gargoyles stood out in dark relief, and as she gazed at them, she

suddenly saw a shadowy figure moving stealthily toward the one nearest

the open door leading from Mr. Rhett's private office.

"Why, that looks like Albert Potts!" she exclaimed.

As she watched in amazement, the man approached the gargoyle. Reaching

his hand far in between the open jaws, he removed something which he

thrust into his overcoat pocket. Then, with a nervous glance down upon

the deserted street, he stepped back into Mr. Rhett's office, and closed

the door.

CHAPTER

25

_ON THE BALCONY_

"Jerry, that was Albert Potts on the balcony!" Penny cried excitedly.

"I'm sure I saw him remove an object from inside the gargoyle!"

"Maybe he was just looking to see what damage was done by the storm,"

commented the reporter.

"He took something out and put it in his overcoat pocket! Jerry, now that

I think back, Potts acted queerly that first day when the police

investigated Mr. Rhett's office. He didn't want anyone to go near the

gargoyle! Another thing, he's been spending money as if it were

rainwater!"

"You're suggesting--"

"That it was Albert Potts who stole the bonds! Weren't they left in Mr.

Rhett's desk? Potts knew it and had a perfect chance to take them! He

implied that Rhett walked off with them! Actually, he hid the bonds in

the gargoyle, knowing that if they were found there, no blame would be

likely to fall upon him. Whenever he needed money, he cashed a

bond--that's why only a few have shown up at out of town banks!"

"Say, maybe you have something!" exclaimed Jerry, pulling up at the curb.

"If he had hid the bonds in the gargoyle, it would be natural for him to

wonder if they still were safe after this storm! He might have decided to

shift them to another place."

"My idea exactly! Jerry, let's nab him and turn him over to the police!"

"Not quite so fast, my little chickadee. If we accuse Potts, and it turns

out we're wrong, well, he could make it hot for us."

"We'll have to take a chance," Penny urged.

Leaving the car at the curb, the pair walked hurriedly to the bank. The

building was dark and the lights were off inside.

"Sure you saw Potts on the balcony?" Jerry asked as they huddled against

the wall for protection against the biting wind.

"Yes, and I think he's coming now!"

Penny was correct. They heard footsteps coming down the marble stairway,

and a moment later, the bank secretary unlocked the door. The waiting

couple made no move until he had locked himself out, but as he started

away, Jerry tapped him on the shoulder.

Potts whirled around, obviously startled. His face blanched.

"Hello, Potts," said Jerry. "Working late, aren't you?"

"Why, yes," stammered the man, edging away.

"Can you spare a match?"

Potts half reached into his pocket as if to proffer one, then said

testily: "I haven't any. Sorry."

"Sure now, you must have a match," said Jerry, brushing against him.

"Maybe in your overcoat pocket."

Before Potts could prevent it, he had thrust his hands deep into each of

the outside pockets. The bank clerk jerked angrily away. However, it was

too late. Jerry triumphantly brought to light a heavy manila envelope.

"Give that to me!" Potts cried furiously.

Sidestepping him, Jerry pulled several bonds of large denomination from

the envelope.

"The stolen bonds!" exclaimed Penny. "Mr. Potts, whatever possessed you

to do it?"

The bank secretary never answered the question. Instead, he wheeled and

started at a run down the street. As he reached the corner, a policeman

who had just finished making a report to headquarters, turned from his

phone box.

"Stop that man!" yelled Jerry.

The policeman grasped Potts, bringing him up short. After that, the bank

secretary did his explaining to the desk sergeant at police headquarters.

So unconvincing was his story, that he was immediately locked in a cell.

Meanwhile, Jerry and Penny related all they knew about the case. All

scout cars were ordered to be on the alert to pick up Anton. Mr. Rhett

was brought to the station within the hour, and promptly identified the

recovered bonds as those he had left in his office desk.

At first, Potts firmly maintained his innocence, but after police had

subjected him to a lie detector test, he realized his case was lost. When

one of the detectives who was questioning him, remarked that his wife

likely would be implicated in the theft, Potts broke completely:

"No! No! My wife had nothing to do with it," he insisted. "I wanted to

give my family better things--that was why I took the bonds. I thought

Mr. Rhett would never return and that he would be blamed for the theft."

"How did you cash the bonds?" he was asked.

"I was afraid to take them to a bank myself," Potts confessed. "Instead,

I paid a woman in another town to do it for me. But she did it only as a

favor, and had no idea the bonds were stolen. I alone am to blame."

A check by police revealed that Potts had spent only $2,000 of the total

amount stolen. Mr. Rhett declared that this sum easily could be made up,

so that the bank would sustain no loss. He was inclined to be lenient

with his secretary, but police were insistent that the man be brought to

trial.

Jerry and Penny, knowing that they had a big story to write, did not

tarry long at the police station. However, the police desk sergeant

promised to keep them informed of any new developments in the case. True

to his word, he called them soon after they reached the _Star_ office.

His news was that Anton had been captured by the police and now was

safely locked in a jail cell.

"Well, that rings the gong on the case," Jerry announced as he hung up

the telephone. "Thanks to you, Penny, it's all wound up."

"And it's nearly edition time!" barked the city editor. "Let's get going

on that story."

He looked at Jerry who was known as the best writer on the paper, and

then his eyes moved on to Penny who waited with bated breath.

"This was her story from start to finish," said Jerry as the editor

hesitated.

"Get going!" ordered the editor again, and now he looked straight at

Penny. "Give it to me in takes."

Penny hurried to a typewriter. The lead, telling of Mr. Rhett's return,

Potts' arrest and recovery of the stolen bonds, almost wrote itself.

Keeping her own part and Jerry's entirely out of the story, she wrote

smoothly and with speed.

When she had finished half a page, she called: "Copy boy!" and ripping

the sheet of paper from the typewriter gave it to him to carry to the

editor's desk.

With a fresh sheet in the machine, she wrote on until she had a second

"take" ready. Again she called the copy boy and, as he snatched it from

her hand, rolled still another sheet into the typewriter.

At last she was on the final page and glanced over it before she typed

"30" at the end. The story had been well told, written tersely in the

manner DeWitt liked. With a feeling of exultation, she realized she had

done a good job.

Getting to her feet, she dropped the last page into the copy basket.

Earlier sheets already had been copy-read and were in the process of

being set into type. Any moment now, the edition would roll and papers

would be on the street.

Penny turned from the desk to see Jerry sitting with his feet propped up

on one of the tables. He was gazing at her quizzically and grinning.

"Well, you did it again, Penny!" he remarked.

"We did it together," she corrected.

"With the help of our silent partner," he added lightly.

"Silent partner?"

"The hurricane. It damaged a lot of Riverview property, but on the other

side of the ledger, it helped write '30' to the Rhett case."

Penny nodded as she reached for her hat and raincoat. Just then, a copy

boy ran up.

"Telephone for you," he said. "It's your housekeeper, Mrs. Weems. She

wants to know if you're safe."

"Safe and sound and on my way home," laughed Penny. "Tell her I've

already started."

"And that she's being driven by her faithful chauffeur," chuckled Jerry,

as he reached for his hat. "Which reminds me, we have a little package to

deliver to the Rhetts'."

"The Zudi drum! I forgot all about it!"

"Haven't you forgotten another important matter too?" teased Jerry,

escorting her through the swinging gate. "Me, for instance."

"You?"

"My reward for tonight's work. Girl reporters, even cute little numbers

like you, can't snatch my bylines without paying the piper!"

"And what fee do you require?" Penny asked with pretended innocence.

"We'll go into that later," he chuckled, pinning her neatly into a

shadowy corner of the vestibule. "Just now, I'll take a little kiss on

deposit!"