stitchin' up some playsuits for Mrs. Hudson's little girl. Afterwards we
had bread and milk like we always do, and then we went to bed."
"At the time, I said to Pa that something queer was going to happen,"
broke in the seamstress. "I could feel it in my bones. It was as if
something was hovering over us."
"A feeling of impending trouble?" questioned Penny.
"Nothing like that," said Mr. Hodges.
"No, it was as if one almost could feel a foreign presence in the room,"
Mrs. Hodges declared, lowering her voice. "A supernatural being."
"Surely you don't believe in ghosts...?" Penny began, but the seamstress
did not hear. Unheeding, she resumed:
"Pa rubbed my back to ease the pain I get from working too long at the
machine. Then we went to bed. Neither of us had gone to sleep when
suddenly we heard it!"
"Six sharp raps on the outside bedroom wall," supplied Mr. Hodges. "It
was like this." He demonstrated on the table.
"We both heard it," added Mrs. Hodges. "It scared me nearly out of my
wits."
"Possibly it was someone at the door," suggested Penny.
"No, it wasn't that. Pa got up and went to see."
"Could it have been a tree bough brushing against the wall?"
"It wasn't that," said Mr. Hodges. "The maple is too far off to strike
our bedroom."
"There's only one explanation," declared the seamstress with conviction.
"It was a psychic sign--the first."
"I don't believe in such things myself," announced Penny. "Surely there
must be another explanation."
"That's what I told Jenny," nodded Mr. Hodges. "But since the letter
came, doggoned if I don't think maybe she's right."
"What has the letter to do with it?" inquired Mrs. Weems.
The seamstress pointed to the postmark on the envelope.
"The hour at which we heard the strange tappings was eleven-thirty! Pa
looked at the clock. And it was three days ago, June fifteenth."
"Corresponding to the marking on this envelope," commented Penny. "That
is a coincidence."
Mrs. Hodges shook her head impatiently.
"You surely don't think it just happened by _accident_?" she asked. "It
must have been intended as a sign--an omen."
"What did the letter say?" Penny inquired, without answering Mrs. Hodges'
question. She knew that her true opinion would not please the woman.
"It wasn't rightly a letter," the seamstress returned. "The envelope
contained six silver dollars fitted into a stiff piece of cardboard."
"We figured it was another sign," contributed Mr. Hodges. "Six raps on
the wall--six dollars."
"I wish some ghost would come and pound all night long on my bedroom
door," remarked Penny lightly.
"Penelope, you shouldn't speak so disrespectfully," Mrs. Weems reproved
in a mild voice.
"Excuse me, I didn't mean to," said Penny, composing her face. "What else
has happened of a supernatural nature?"
"Why, nothing yet," Mrs. Hodges admitted. "But Pa and I have had a
feeling as if something important were about to take place. And now Maud
inherits six thousand dollars!"
"There was nothing psychic about that," said Mrs. Weems. "Cousin David
had no close relatives so he left the money to me."
The seamstress shook her head, and an ethereal light shone in her eyes.
"Night before last when I went to bed I was thinking that I wished with
all my heart something nice would happen to you, Maud. Now it's come to
pass!"
Even Mrs. Weems was somewhat startled by the seamstress' calm assumption
that her thoughts had been responsible for the inheritance.
"Don't you see," Mrs. Hodges resumed patiently. "It must mean that I have
great psychic powers. I confess I am rather frightened."
Penny arose and began to button her raincoat.
"Excuse me for saying it," she remarked, "but if I were you, Mrs. Hodges,
I'd spend the six dollars and forget the entire affair. Someone must have
played a joke on you!"
"A joke!" The seamstress was offended. "People don't give away money as a
joke."
"No, these days they squeeze the eagles until they holler," chuckled Mr.
Hodges.
"The letter was postmarked New York City," went on his wife. "We don't
know a soul there. Oh, no one ever can make me believe that it was done
as a joke. The letter was mailed at exactly the hour we heard the six
raps!"
"And there wasn't a sign of anyone near the house," added Mr. Hodges.
"Well, at least you're six dollars ahead," said Penny. "Shall we go, Mrs.
Weems? It's after midnight."
The seamstress walked to the door with the callers.
"I'll get busy tomorrow on those new dresses," she promised Mrs. Weems.
"Drop in again whenever you can. And you, too, Penelope."
Driving home through the rain, Penny stole a quick glance at the
housekeeper who seemed unusually quiet.
"Do you suppose Jenny could be right?" Mrs. Weems presently ventured. "I
mean about Cousin David and the inheritance?"
"Of course not!" laughed Penny. "Why, your cousin died a long while
before Mrs. Hodges discovered that she was psychic. It's all the bunk!"
"I wish I really knew."
"Why, Mrs. Weems!" Penny prepared to launch into a violent argument. "I
never heard of such nonsense! How could Mrs. Hodges have psychic powers?
Everyone realizes that communication with the spirit world is
impossible!"
"You are entitled to your opinion, Penny, but others may differ with you.
Who can know about The Life Beyond? Isn't it in the realm of possibility
that Mrs. Hodges may have had a message from Cousin David?"
"She didn't speak of it."
"Not in words, Penny. But those strange rappings, the arrival of the
letter--it was all very strange and unexplainable."
"I'll admit it was queer, Mrs. Weems. However, I'll never agree that
there's anything supernatural connected with it."
"You close your mind to things you do not wish to believe," the
housekeeper reproved. "What can any of us know of the spirit world?"
Penny gazed at Mrs. Weems in alarm. She realized that the seamstress'
story had deeply impressed her.
"I'll stake my knowledge against Mrs. Hodges' any old day," she declared
lightly. "I met one ghost-maker--Osandra--remember him?"
"Why remind me of that man, Penny?" asked the housekeeper wearily.
"Because you once paid him good money for the privilege of attending his
seances. You were convinced he was in communication with the world
beyond. He proved to be an outrageous fraud."
"I was taken in by him as were many other persons," Mrs. Weems
acknowledged. "Mrs. Hodges' case is different. We have been friends for
ten years. She would not misrepresent the facts."
"No, Mrs. Hodges is honest. I believe that the money was sent to her. But
not by a ghost!"
"Let's not discuss it," said Mrs. Weems with finality. "I never did enjoy
an argument."
Penny lapsed into silence and a moment later the car swung into the
Parker driveway. The housekeeper hurried into the house, leaving the girl
to close the garage doors.
Penny snapped the padlock shut. Unmindful of the rain, she stood for a
moment, staring into the night. Nothing had gone exactly right that day,
and her disagreement with Mrs. Weems, minor though it was, bothered her.
"There's more to this psychic business than appears on the surface," she
thought grimly. "A great deal more! Maybe I am stubborn and opinionated.
But I know one thing! No trickster is going to take advantage of the
Hodges or of Mrs. Weems either--not if I can prevent it."
CHAPTER
9
_MRS. WEEMS' INHERITANCE_
The clock chimed seven-thirty the next morning as Penny came downstairs.
She dropped a kiss on her father's forehead and slid into a chair at the
opposite side of the breakfast table.
"Good morning, Daddykins," she greeted him cheerfully. "Any news in the
old scandal sheet?"
Mr. Parker lowered the newspaper.
"Please don't call me Daddykins," he requested. "You know I hate it.
Here's something which may interest you. Your friends the Kohls were
robbed last night."
"You're eight hours late," grinned Penny, reaching for the front page. "I
was there."
"I suppose you lifted the pearls and the diamond bracelet on your way to
the theatre."
"No," said Penny, rapidly scanning the story which Jerry had written,
"but I think I may have seen the man who did do it."
She then told her father of having observed a stranger note the license
number of the Kohl car, and mentioned the events which had followed.
"You may have been mistaken about what the man wrote down," commented her
father.
"That's possible, but he was staring straight at the car."
"I doubt if the incident had any connection with the burglary, Penny.
With the Motor Vehicle Department closed, he would have had no means of
quickly learning who the Kohls were or where they lived."
"Couldn't he have recognized them?"
"In that case he would have no need for the license number. You didn't
see the man note down the plates of other cars?"
"No, but he may have done it before I noticed him standing by the
theatre."
Turning idly through the morning paper, Penny's attention was drawn to
another news story. Reading it rapidly, she thrust the page into her
father's hand.
"Dad, look at this! There were two other burglaries last night! Apartment
houses on Drexel Boulevard and Fenmore Street were entered."
"H-m, interesting. The Kohls occupy an apartment also. That rather
suggests that the same thief ransacked the three places."
"And it says here that the families were away for the evening!" Penny
resumed with increasing excitement. "I'll bet a cent they were at the
theatre! Oh, Dad, that man in gray must have been the one who did it!"
"If all the persons you suspect of crime were arrested, our jails
couldn't hold them," remarked Mr. Parker calmly. "Eat your breakfast,
Penny, before it gets cold."
Mrs. Weems entered through the kitchen door, bearing reenforcements of
hot waffles and crisp bacon. Her appearance reminded Penny to launch into
a highly entertaining account of all that had transpired at the Hodges'
the previous night.
"Penny!" protested the housekeeper. "You promised Mrs. Hodges to say
nothing about the letter."
"Oh, no, I didn't promise," corrected Penny. "I was careful to say that I
couldn't tell what I didn't know. Years ago Dad taught me that a good
reporter never agrees to accept a confidence. Isn't that so, Dad?"
"A wise reporter never ties his own hands," replied Mr. Parker. "If he
promises, and then obtains the same story from another source, he's
morally bound not to use it. His paper may be scooped by the opposition."
"You two are a pair," sighed Mrs. Weems. "Scoops and front page stories
are all either of you think about. I declare, it distresses me to realize
how Penny may be trained after I leave."
"The way to solve that problem is not to leave," said Penny. "You know we
can't get along without you."
Mrs. Weems shook her head.
"It cuts me almost in two to leave," she declared sadly, "but my mind's
made up. Mrs. Hodges says I am doing the right thing."
"And I suppose a ghost advised her," muttered Penny.
Mr. Parker glanced sternly at his daughter and she subsided into silence.
But not for long. Soon she was trying to reopen the subject of the
mysterious letter received by the Hodges. For a reason she could not
understand, her father was loath to discuss it.
"Come, Penny," he said. "If we're having that game of tennis this
morning, it's time we start."
En route to the park, the publisher explained why he had not chosen to
express an opinion in the housekeeper's presence.
"I quite agree with you that Mrs. Hodges has no psychic powers, Penny.
She's been the victim of a hoax. However, Mrs. Weems is intensely loyal
to her friend, and any disparaging remarks made by us will only serve to
antagonize her."
"I'll try to be more careful, Dad. But it's so silly!"
Monday morning found Penny busy once more with her duties at the society
desk. No new information had developed regarding the Kohl burglary, and
she did not have time to accompany Mrs. Weems who went frequently to the
Hodges' cottage.
Secretly Penny held an opinion that the housekeeper's inheritance might
be the work of a prankster. Therefore, upon returning from the office one
afternoon and learning that the money actually had been delivered, she
was very glad she had kept her thoughts to herself.
"The lawyer came this morning and had me sign a paper," Mrs. Weems
revealed to the Parkers. "Then he turned the money over to me--six
thousand dollars."
"I hope the cheque is good," remarked Penny.
"It was. I had the lawyer accompany me to the bank. They gave me the
money without asking a single question. I have it here."
"You have six thousand dollars cash in the house!"
"Yes, I had the cashier give it to me in hundred dollar bills."
"Do you consider it safe to keep such a large sum?" Mr. Parker inquired
mildly. "I should advise returning it to the bank, or better still, why
not invest it in sound securities?"
Mrs. Weems shook her head. "It gives me a nice rich feeling to have the
cash. I've hidden it in a good place."
"Where?" demanded Penny.
"I won't tell," laughed Mrs. Weems.
Again later in the evening, Mr. Parker tried without success to convince
the housekeeper that she should return the money to a bank. Never one to
force his opinions upon another, he then dropped the subject.
"When will you be leaving us, Mrs. Weems?" he inquired.
"Whenever you can spare me. Now that I have the money, I should like to
leave within ten days or two weeks."
"Since we can't persuade you to remain, I'll try to find someone to take
your place," Mr. Parker promised.
Both he and Penny were gloomy at the prospect of replacing the
housekeeper. Not only would they miss Mrs. Weems but they honestly
believed that she would never be happy without two incorrigibles and a
home to manage.
"Dad," Penny ventured when they were alone, "just supposing that Mrs.
Weems' money should mysteriously disappear--"
"Don't allow your mind to dwell on that idea," cut in her father sternly.
"We'll play fair."
"Oh, I wouldn't do it," said Penny hastily. "I was only joking. But if
something _should_ happen to the money, it would solve all our problems."
"Mrs. Weems has earned her vacation. Even though it will be hard to lose
her, we mustn't stand in her way."
"I guess you're right," sighed Penny.
The following day Miss Hilderman resumed her duties at the _Star_, and
Penny once more found herself a person of leisure. To her annoyance, Mrs.
Weems insisted that she spend many hours in the kitchen, learning how to
bake pies and cakes. A particularly distasteful lesson came to an end
only when Penny, with brilliant inspiration, remembered that the
housekeeper had an appointment with the seamstress.
"Dear me, I had forgotten it!" exclaimed Mrs. Weems. "Yes, I must try on
my new dresses!"
"I'll drive you over," offered Penny.
Not in recent days had the girl called upon the Hodges. As she and Mrs.
Weems alighted from the car, they both noticed freshly ironed curtains at
the windows. Mr. Hodges was pounding dust from a carpet on the line.
"Housecleaning?" inquired Penny, pausing to chat with the old man.
"Yes, Jenny's got me hard at it," he grinned. "She's been tearin' the
house upside down gettin' ready for the new roomer."
"Oh, have you taken one?"
Penny was surprised, knowing that in past years the Hodges had been too
proud to rent rooms.
"There's a young feller moving in today," Mr. Hodges said, picking up the
carpet beater. "Go on inside. Jenny'll tell you about it."
Penny and Mrs. Weems entered the cottage where the seamstress was running
a dust mop over the floors. She was somewhat dismayed to see the
housekeeper.
"Oh, Maud, I've been so busy I didn't get your dresses ready to be tried
on."
"It doesn't matter," replied Mrs. Weems. "What's this about a new
roomer?"
"I always said I wouldn't have one cluttering up the place. But this
young man is different. His coming here--well, I interpret it as another
sign."
"A sign of what?" inquired Penny with her usual directness.
"Well, it seemed as if I had a direct message from the spirit world to
take him into our home. He came here last night. Instead of knocking in
the usual way, he rapped six times in succession!"
"Probably he was the one who sent the letter," said Penny alertly.
"Oh, no! He didn't know anything about it. I asked him."
"What is his name, Mrs. Hodges?"
"Al Gepper. He's such a nice young man and he talks so refined. I am
letting him have the entire floor upstairs."
"That should bring you a nice income," remarked Mrs. Weems.
"I am asking only two dollars a week," admitted the seamstress. "He said
he couldn't pay more than that."
"Why, Jenny," protested Mrs. Weems, "such a small amount hardly will
cover the lights and various extras."
"I know, Maud, but I couldn't turn him away. He moved his apparatus in
last night and will bring his personal belongings sometime today."
"His apparatus?" echoed Penny. "What is he, a chemist?"
"No," replied the seamstress, smiling mysteriously. "I'll show you the
rooms."
Penny and Mrs. Weems followed the woman upstairs. The upper floor was
divided into two small bedrooms with a wide, old-fashioned sliding door
between which could be opened to make one large chamber. The larger of
the rooms had been cleared of its usual furniture. Where a bed previously
had stood was a circular table with six or eight chairs, and behind it a
tall cabinet with a black curtain across the front.
"Mr. Gepper plans to use this room for his studio," explained Mrs.
Hodges.
Penny's gaze had fastened upon the cabinet. She crossed to it and pulled
aside the curtain. Inside were several unpacked boxes and a suitcase.
"Mrs. Hodges, to what purpose does your young man expect to put this
studio?" she asked.
"I don't know. He didn't tell me. But I think he intends to carry on
psychic experiments. He's a student, he said."
"Mr. Gepper was afraid to tell you the truth lest you refuse to rent the
rooms," declared Penny. "Mrs. Hodges, your roomer is a medium."
"Why do you think so?"
"Because I've seen trappings such as these before at other seance
chambers," replied Penny. "Mrs. Hodges, you must send him away before he
involves you with the police."
CHAPTER
10
_OUIJA BOARD WISDOM_
"Trouble with the police!" Mrs. Hodges echoed, regarding Penny with
unconcealed dismay. "How can it be illegal to rent Mr. Gepper these
rooms?"
"Renting the rooms isn't illegal," Penny corrected. "But if the young man
conducts public seances here--filches money from people--then you may be
considered a party to the scheme. This city has a local ordinance
prohibiting fortune telling, mind reading and the like."
"I am sure the young man means no wrong."
"Penny," commented Mrs. Weems, "it seems to me that you are overly
concerned. Why are you convinced that Mr. Gepper is a medium?"
"Doesn't this cabinet indicate it?"
"I thought it was some sort of wardrobe closet," Mrs. Hodges admitted.
"Al Gepper is a medium, or pretends to have spiritualistic powers," Penny
repeated. "In my opinion you'll be very unwise to allow him to start an
illegal business here."
"Oh, dear, I don't know what to do now," declared the seamstress. "I'll
have to ask Pa about it."
She and Mrs. Weems started downstairs, expecting that Penny would follow.
Instead, the girl lingered to inspect the cabinet.
On the lower floor a door slammed, and there were footsteps ascending the
stairway. She paid no heed, assuming that it was either Mr. Hodges or his
wife who approached.
The door swung open. Turning, Penny saw a young man, possibly thirty
years of age, standing on the threshold. His dark eyes were sharp and
appraising.
"Hello," he said, without smiling. "Aren't you afraid a monkey may jump
out of that cabinet?"
Penny, who seldom blushed, felt a wave of heat creeping over her cheeks.
"Hello," she stammered. "You must be Mrs. Hodges' new roomer."
"Al Gepper, at your service. Who are you, girlie?"
"You guessed it," said Penny shortly, edging away from the cabinet.
Al Gepper remained in the doorway, blocking the exit with his arm. He did
not move as the girl attempted to move past him.
"What's your hurry?" he drawled. "Stick around and let's get acquainted.
I'll show you some neat card tricks."
"Thanks, but I haven't time, Mr. Gepper."
"What's your name anyhow?" he persisted. "You're not Mrs. Hodges'
daughter."
"No, only a friend."
"You needn't be so icy about it," he rebuked. "Any friend of Mrs. Hodges'
is a friend of mine."
"I never make friends easily," Penny replied. "For that matter, I don't
mind telling you that I have advised Mrs. Hodges not to rent you these
rooms."
"Oh, you have?" inquired the man, his eyes hardening. "And what business
is it of yours?"
"None, perhaps. I merely am not going to allow her to be taken in if I
can prevent it!"
"Oh, indeed. Do you mind explaining?"
"It's perfectly obvious that you're one of these fake spiritualists,"
Penny accused bluntly. "Your nickname should be Six-Raps Al!"
"A little spit-fire, aren't you?" the man retorted. "But you have style.
Now I may be able to use you in my business."
"You admit that you're a medium?"
"I am a spiritualist. Not a fake, as you so crudely accuse. And I assure
you I have no intention of deceiving or taking advantage of your dear
friends, the Hodges."
"You expect to use these rooms for public seances?"
"I do."
"Then you are certain to get the Hodges into trouble with the police."
"Not unless you start squawking." Al Gepper's manner changed abruptly. He
grasped Penny's wrist and pushed a leering face close to hers. "I'm not
looking for any trouble from you or anyone else--see! If you try to make
it, you'll wake up with a headache!"
Penny jerked free and, shouldering through the door, raced downstairs.
Glancing back, she saw that Al Gepper was following, though at a more
leisurely pace. Instantly she divined that he intended to make sure no
report of the incident was given to the Hodges, save in his presence.
Mrs. Weems and the old couple were talking in the kitchen.
"Well, Ma, it's for you to decide," Mr. Hodges was saying. "We gave our
word to the young feller, and it's kinda mean to turn him out so sudden
like."
"I regret Penny said anything about the matter." apologized Mrs. Weems.
"You know how out-spoken and impulsive she is. Of course, she has no
information about Mr. Gepper."
"Oh, but I do have information," spoke Penny from the doorway. "Mr.
Gepper has just admitted that he intends to use the room for public
seances. Isn't that true?"
Defiantly, she turned to face the young man who had followed her.
"Quite true," he acknowledged loftily. "One who has a great psychic gift
is duty-bound to allow the world to benefit from one's talents. The
selection of this house as a Temple for Celestial Communication was not
mine, but the bidding of the Spirits. In a dream I was instructed to come
here and take up residence."
"What night did you have the dream?" questioned Mrs. Hodges, deeply
impressed.
"It was June fifteenth."
"The very night we heard the strange rappings on our bedroom wall, Pa."
"Dogonned if it wasn't!"
"Mr. Gepper, do you truly believe it is possible to communicate with the
spiritual world?" Mrs. Weems inquired politely.
"My dear madam, I can best answer by offering a demonstration. Have you a
ouija board in the house?"
"Yes, we have," spoke Mrs. Hodges eagerly. "Pa and I got it from a mail
order house years ago, but it never worked for us. You fetch it, Pa."
Mr. Hodges brought a large, flat board which bore letters and figures.
Upon it he placed a small, triangular piece with cushioned legs.
"This do-dad is supposed to spell out messages, ain't it?" he asked. "Ma
and I could never make it work right."
Al Gepper smiled in a superior way, and placing the board on his lap,
motioned for Mrs. Weems to sit opposite him. However, before the
housekeeper could obey, Penny slid into the vacant chair. The medium
frowned.
"Place your hands lightly on the triangular piece," he instructed.
"Concentrate with me as we await a message from the spiritual world."
Penny fastened her eyes on the distant wall with a blank stare.
A minute passed. The ouija board made several convulsive struggles, but
seemed unable to move.
"The Spirits encounter resistance," the medium said testily. "They can
send no message when one's attitude is antagonistic."
"Shall I take off the brakes?" asked Penny.
Even as she spoke the pointer of the triangle began moving, rapidly
spelling a message.
"AL GEPPER IS A FRAUD," it wrote.