situation. "Everything so perfectly timed, almost as if it were a play!"
"I don't understand," Mrs. Weems murmured. "I've done something I
shouldn't--"
"It was not your fault," Mr. Parker assured her. "In the future, however,
refuse to accept any collect message."
As her father did not open the telegram, Penny seized upon it.
"This is from a man who calls himself Isaac Fulterton," she disclosed,
glancing at the bottom of the typed page.
"Merely one of Ben Bowman's many names," Mr. Parker sighed.
"Ah, this is a gem!" Penny chuckled, and read aloud: "'Here is a
suggestion for your rotten rag. Why not print it on yellow paper? I know
you will not use it because editors think they know everything. I once
knew a reader who got a little good out of your paper. He used it to
clean the garbage can.'"
"How dreadful!" Mrs. Weems exclaimed, genuinely shocked.
"Penny, if you insist upon reading another line, I shall leave the
table," Mr. Parker snapped. "I've had quite enough of Ben Bowman."
"I'm sorry, Dad," Penny apologized, slipping the message into her pocket.
"I can appreciate that this doesn't seem very funny to you."
The telegram was not mentioned again. Nevertheless, Mr. Parker's good
humor had given way to moody silence, contributing no cheer to the
evening meal. Mrs. Weems kept glancing uneasily at her employer,
wondering if she had offended him. Only Penny, whose appetite never
failed, seemed thoroughly at ease.
"Dad," she said suddenly. "I have an idea how Ben Bowman might be
trailed!"
"Never mind telling me," her father answered. "I prefer not to hear his
name mentioned."
"As you like," she shrugged. "I'll shroud myself in mystery and silence
as I work. But when the case is ended, I'll present my bill!"
Actually, Penny held slight hope that ever she would be able to turn the
elusive Ben Bowman over to the police. The wily fellow was far too clever
ever to file two messages from the same telegraph office, and very seldom
from the same city. However, the town of Claymore, from which the last
message had been sent, was only fifty-five miles away. It had occurred to
her that by going there she might obtain from telegraph officials the
original message filed.
"In that way I'd at least have Ben Bowman's signature," she reflected.
"While it wouldn't be much, it represents a start."
Always, Penny's greatest problem was insufficient time. Greatly as she
desired to drive to Claymore, she knew it would be out of the question
for several days. Not only must arrangements for the orphans' melon party
be completed, but other interests demanded attention.
Temporarily dismissing Ben Bowman from her mind, Penny devoted herself to
plans for the outing. Cars easily were obtained, and the following night,
sixty excited orphans were transported to the Davis farm. With shrieks of
laughter, the boys and girls took possession of the melon patch.
"Pick all you like from the vines," Penny called, "but don't touch any of
the crated ones."
In the yard not far from the storage barn stood a truck loaded with
melons which were ready for the market.
"This must represent the cream of Mrs. Preston's crop," Jerry remarked,
lifting the canvas which covered the load. "Maybe she'll be luckier than
her neighbors, the Doolittles."
"What happened to them?" Penny asked, surprised by the remark.
"Don't you ever read the _Star_?"
"I didn't today. Too busy. Tell me about the Doolittles, Jerry."
"Mr. Doolittle was taking a load of melons to market. Another truck
brushed him on the River road. The melon truck upset, and the entire
shipment was lost."
"Can't he get damages?"
"Doolittle didn't learn who was responsible."
"Was it an accident or done deliberately?" Penny asked thoughtfully.
"Sheriff Daniels thinks it was an accident. I'm inclined to believe the
Black Hoods may have had something to do with it."
"Why should anyone wish to make trouble for Mr. Doolittle, Jerry? All his
life he has stayed on his little truck farm, and strictly attended to his
own affairs."
"There's only one possible reason so far as I know," the reporter
answered. "Not long ago Doolittle refused to join the Holloway County
Cooperative, an organization that markets crops for the truck farmers."
"And you believe the Hoods may be connected with the Cooperative?"
"I wouldn't go so far as to say that," Jerry replied hastily. "Fact is,
the Holloway Cooperative always has had a good reputation."
"There's no question the Preston barn was destroyed by the Hoods," Penny
said reflectively. "Although the evidence pointed to Clem Davis, I've
never felt satisfied he was guilty."
"Same here," agreed Jerry. "Another thing, I keep mulling over what that
melon sorter said yesterday."
"You mean his hint that something might happen to Mrs. Davis' crop?"
"Yeah. Maybe he knew more than he let on."
"The Hoods will have to work fast if they destroy the Davis melons,"
Penny rejoined. "Besides, didn't the sheriff uncover proof that Clem
Davis is a member of the organization?"
"That's what he says. I wonder about that too."
Not far from the truck was a small pile of discarded melons, culls which
were misshapen or over-ripe. Selecting one, Jerry tossed it into the air
and caught it.
"Just the right size for a hand grenade," he remarked. "Watch!"
He threw the melon hard against the barn. It burst against the siding,
breaking into a dozen fragments and leaving an unsightly blotch of oozing
seeds.
"Jerry, you shouldn't do that," Penny chided. "Mrs. Davis won't like it."
"Okay, I'll be good," the reporter promised. "The temptation was just too
strong to resist."
By this time, the hubbub in the melon patch had slightly subsided as the
youngsters gained their fill of cantaloupe. Soon institution officials
began to pilot the children to the waiting cars. Several lads protested
at the early termination of the party.
"Do let the boys stay awhile longer," Penny pleaded. "Jerry and I will
bring them back in a few minutes."
"Very well," the matron consented. "But don't allow them to eat so many
melons that they will be sick."
The responsibility of looking after six orphans weighed heavily upon
Penny. After the cars had driven away, she and Jerry patrolled the patch,
trying vainly to maintain order. With institution authorities no longer
present, the boys proceeded to enjoy themselves. They ran races down the
furrows, lassoed one another with vines, and pelted ripe melons against
the fence posts.
"Hey, you little hoodlums!" Jerry shouted. "Cut it out or you'll go back
to the Home pronto!"
"Says who?" mocked one saucy little fellow in a piping voice.
"Quiet everyone!" commanded Penny suddenly. "Listen!"
In the silent night could be heard the clatter of horses' hoofs. Jerry
whirled around, gazing toward the entrance to the lane. Two horsemen,
black hoods covering their faces, rode at a hard gallop toward the
storage barn.
CHAPTER
11
_PENNY'S CLUE_
"The nightshirt riders!" Jerry exclaimed. "Duck down, everyone!"
Penny and the six lads from the Riverview Home crouched low, watching the
approach of the two riders.
"One of those men may be Clem Davis, but I doubt it!" muttered Jerry.
"They're here to destroy the crated cantaloupes!"
"Jerry, we can't let them get away with it!" Penny exclaimed. "Why not
pelt them with melons when they get closer?"
"Okay," he agreed grimly, "we'll give 'em a spoiled cantaloupe blitz.
Gather your ammunition, gang, and get ready!"
Screened from the approaching horsemen by trees and bushes, the young
people hastily collected a few over-ripe cantaloupes which were small
enough to throw with accuracy.
Unaware of the barrage awaiting them, the two hooded men rode into the
yard.
"Now!" Jerry gave the signal. "Let 'em have it!"
Taking careful aim, he hurled his own melon with all his strength. It
found its mark, striking one of the men with stunning force, nearly
causing him to fall from the saddle.
Penny and the boys from the orphans' home concentrated their efforts on
the other horseman. While many of their shots were wild, a few went true.
One struck the horse which reared suddenly on her hind legs, unseating
the rider.
"Give it to him!" Jerry shouted, observing that the fallen man was
unhurt.
Handicapped by lack of ammunition, there followed a brief lull in the
battle, as the young people sought to replenish their stock. Seizing the
opportunity, one of the night riders galloped away. The other man, who
had lost his horse, scrambled into the cab of the loaded melon truck.
"He's going to drive off!" Penny cried. "Let's stop him!"
She and Jerry ran toward the truck, but they were too late. The giant
motor started with a roar, and the heavy vehicle rolled out of the yard.
Just then, Mrs. Davis came running from the cabin.
"My melons!" she screamed. "They've taken my melons! Oh, I was afraid
something like this would happen!"
"Maybe I can overtake that fellow," Jerry called to her. "Ride herd on
these kids until I get back!"
As he ran toward his own car, Penny was close at his heels. She slid into
the seat beside him and they raced down the lane.
"Which way did the truck go?" Jerry demanded. "I was so excited I forgot
to notice."
"It turned right. No sign of it now, though."
"The fellow is running without lights to make it harder for us to follow
him."
Jerry and Penny both were hopeful that they could overtake the truck,
which carried a heavy load. However, they had been delayed several
minutes in getting started, and as the miles fell behind them, they
caught no glimpse of the man they pursued.
"He must have turned off on that little side road we passed a quarter of
a mile back," Penny declared in discouragement. "Switch off the engine a
minute."
Bringing the car to a standstill, Jerry did as instructed. Both listened
intently. From far over the hills they thought they could hear the
muffled roar of a powerful motor.
"You're right, Penny! He turned off at that side road!" Jerry exclaimed,
backing the coupe around. "We'll get him yet!"
Retracing their route, they started down the narrow rutty highway. Five
minutes later, rounding a sharp bend, they caught their first glimpse of
the truck, a dark object silhouetted in the moonlight. Only for a moment
did it remain visible, and then, descending a hill, was lost to view.
"We're gaining fast," Jerry said in satisfaction. "It won't be long now."
The coupe rattled over a bridge. For no reason at all it began to bump, a
loud pounding noise coming from the rear of the car.
"Gracious! What now?" Penny exclaimed.
"A flat," Jerry answered tersely. "Just our luck."
Pulling up at the side of the road, he jumped out to peer at the tires.
As he had feared, the left rear one was down.
"We'll probably lose that fellow now," he said irritably.
With Penny holding a flashlight, the reporter worked as fast as he could
to change the tire. However, nearly fifteen minutes elapsed before the
task had been accomplished.
"We may as well turn back," he said, tossing tools into the back of the
car. "How about it?"
"Oh, let's keep on a little farther," Penny pleaded. "If we drive fast we
might still overtake him."
Without much hope, they resumed the pursuit. Tires whined a protest as
they swung around sharp corners, and the motor began to heat.
"This old bus can't take it any more," Jerry declared, slackening speed
again. "No sense in ruining the car."
Penny had been watching the road carefully. They had passed no bisecting
highways, so she felt certain that the truck could not have turned off.
On either side of the unpaved thoroughfare were lonely stretches of swamp
and woods.
"Let's not turn back yet," she pleaded. "We still have a chance."
"Okay," Jerry consented, "but don't forget we have six orphans waiting
for us at the Davis place."
The car went on for another eight miles. Then came a welcome stretch of
pavement.
"We must be getting near the state line," Jerry remarked. "Yeah, there it
is."
Directly ahead was a tiny brick building with an official waiting to
inspect cars which passed beyond that point. A series of markers warned
the motorist to halt at the designated place.
As Jerry drew up, a man came from the little building.
"Carrying any shrubs, plants or fruit?" he began but the reporter cut him
short.
"We're following a stolen truck!" he exclaimed. "Has a red truck loaded
with cantaloupes gone through here tonight?"
"I checked one about fifteen minutes ago."
"Fifteen minutes!" Jerry groaned. "That finishes us."
"The trucker could have reached Claymore by this time," the inspector
responded. "Once in the city you wouldn't have much chance to pick him
up. I have the truck license number though. If you'll give me all the
facts, I'll make a report to Claymore police."
There was no point in pursuing the thief farther. Accordingly, Penny and
Jerry provided the requested information, and then drove to the Davis
farm. Regretfully, they told Mrs. Davis of their failure to trace the
melon thief.
"I've lost my crop, the truck--everything," she said in a crushed voice.
"What's the use trying anyhow? A body would be smarter to go along with
'em than to try to fight."
"I take it you have a pretty fair idea who it was that came here
tonight?" Jerry said shrewdly. "Who are these Hoods?"
"I don't dare tell you," the woman answered fearfully. "You saw what they
did tonight. They threw the blame of the Preston fire on Clem. They'll do
worse things if I don't keep mum."
"You want to help your husband, don't you?" Penny inquired.
"Of course I do! But I know better than to talk."
"You've been warned?" Jerry pursued the subject.
"Yes, I have. Now don't ask me any more questions. I've told you too much
already."
"I just want to know one thing," Jerry said relentlessly. "Did your
trouble start because you and your husband refused to join the Holloway
Cooperative?"
"Maybe it did," the woman answered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I
ain't saying."
It was apparent to Jerry and Penny that they could expect no assistance
from Mrs. Davis. Although the events of the night had convinced them that
Clem Davis was innocent, others would not share their opinion. They felt
that by shielding the guilty parties, Mrs. Davis was adopting a very
stupid attitude.
"Come along, Penny," Jerry said with a shrug. "Let's be moving."
Six reluctant orphans were rounded up from the hay loft where a
boisterous game of hide and seek was in progress.
"I can jam four into my coupe if you can handle the other two in your
car," Jerry remarked to Penny. "If they make you any trouble, just toot
the horn twice, and I'll come back and settle with 'em!"
"Oh, we'll get along fine," she smiled. "Come along, boys."
"Here's a souvenir to remember the night by," Jerry said. From the ground
he picked up two melons which he handed to the orphans. "Just don't sock
the matron with them when you get back to the Home!"
"Jerry, let me see one of those melons!" Penny exclaimed suddenly. "They
fell from the truck, didn't they?"
"I guess so," Jerry responded, surprised by her display of interest.
"What about 'em?"
"I'll show you."
Turning on the dash light of the car, Penny held the melon in its warm
glow. Slowly, she turned it in her hands.
"There!" she said, pointing to a tiny triangle shaped marking on the
cantaloupe. "This may prove a clue which will lead to the capture of the
thief!"
"I don't get it," answered Jerry. "What clue?"
"Why, this stamping on the melon!" she replied excitedly. "The Hoods must
intend to sell that load of cantaloupes. If they do, we may be able to
trace the shipment."
CHAPTER
12
_ADELLE'S DISAPPEARANCE_
Jerry took the melon from Penny's hand to examine it.
"This stamp may be helpful," he said dubiously, "but I doubt it. The
Hoods never would be so stupid as to sell melons which could be traced.
No, I think our investigation will have to center close at home."
"You're referring to the Holloway Cooperative, Jerry?"
"That outfit certainly merits an investigation. In the morning I'll jog
out to their packing plant and talk to the manager, Hank Holloway."
"What time will you be going, Jerry?"
"About nine o'clock probably."
"Perhaps I'll meet you there," Penny said thoughtfully. "That is, if you
don't mind."
"Glad to have you," the reporter responded in a hearty voice.
The two cars soon started for the Riverview Orphans' Home, arriving there
without mishap. After unloading the boys entrusted to their care, Jerry
and Penny then went to their respective residences.
"I'm glad you came at last," Mrs. Weems remarked as the girl entered the
house. "You're to telephone Miss Anderson at the Riverview Orphans'
Home."
"But I just left there," Penny protested. "When did the call come?"
"About fifteen minutes ago."
Wondering what could be amiss, Penny went to the telephone. In a moment
she was in communication with Miss Anderson, who assisted the matron of
the institution. The young woman's voice betrayed agitation as she
disclosed that following the night's outing, an orphan had been
discovered missing.
"Oh, goodness!" Penny exclaimed, aghast. "One of those six boys?"
Miss Anderson's reply slightly reassured her.
"No, the missing child is a little girl who was not permitted to attend
the party because of a severe cold. You may remember her--Adelle."
"Indeed I do, Miss Anderson. Tell me how I may help."
"We've already organized searching parties," the young woman returned.
"Adelle surely will be found within a few hours. However, if the story
gets out it will do the institution no good--particularly at this time
when our drive for funds is on."
"I see," Penny murmured, "you would like the news kept out of the
_Star_?"
"Can it be arranged?" Miss Anderson asked eagerly. "If you will talk to
your father about it we'll be very grateful."
"I'll ask him not to print the story," Penny promised, none too pleased
by the request. "I do hope Adelle is found soon."
She could not help feeling that the institution officials seemed far more
worried about the prospect of unfavorable publicity than over the missing
child's welfare. Saying goodbye to Miss Anderson, she sought her father
who was reading in the library.
"Penny, you know I don't like to grant such favors," Mr. Parker frowned
when the conversation was repeated to him. "As a matter of principle, it
never pays to withhold information unless the telling will harm innocent
persons."
"In this case, it will damage the institution," Penny argued quietly.
"Besides, I feel more or less responsible. What started out as a nice
little party for the orphans, ended in a regular brawl. It was planned
primarily for Adelle and then she ran away because she wasn't permitted
to attend."
Starting at the very beginning, Penny told her father everything that had
happened during the night. The tale was one of absorbing interest to Mr.
Parker. When she had finished, he said:
"Don't worry about the affair, Penny. I am as interested in the Riverview
Camp fund as you are. We'll give the institution no unfavorable
publicity."
"Oh, thanks, Dad!" she cried gratefully, wrapping her arms about his
neck. "You're just grand!"
"Weak as water, you mean," he corrected with a chuckle. "By the way, I
suppose you know that your friend Blake has been named to the Camp Fund
board."
"No!" Penny exclaimed. "How did that happen?"
"He hinted to Mrs. Van Cleve that he would like to serve. Naturally,
after his handsome donation, she couldn't refuse."
"Why do you suppose Mr. Blake has taken such a sudden interest in the
Home?"
"I wonder myself. I've thought from the first that he's up to something.
So far I've not been able to figure out his little game."
"Well, you're on the board too," Penny declared, undisturbed. "If he
starts any monkey business you can put a quick stop to it."
"I fear you overestimate my talents," Mr. Parker responded. "However, I
do intend to see that Blake doesn't profit too much by his donation."
The hour was late and Penny soon went to bed. Disturbed by Adelle's
disappearance, she did not sleep well. Arising early, she telephoned the
Orphans' Home, hoping to learn that the child had been found. No such
good news awaited her.
"Searchers have looked everywhere between here and the Davis farm," Miss
Anderson revealed. "Unless the child is found by noon, it will be
necessary to broadcast a general alarm. And that's certain to bring
unfavorable attention to the Home."
"Is there any chance she could have been kidnaped?" Penny asked
thoughtfully.
"Not the slightest," was the prompt reply. "Adelle took most of her
clothes with her. It's a plain case of a runaway, but most annoying at
this time."
Penny ate a hasty breakfast, and then remembering her appointment with
Jerry, drove to the Holloway Cooperative. The buildings were of modern
concrete construction, located three and a half miles from Riverview in
the heart of the truck farming district.
Jerry Livingston had not yet arrived, so Penny waited in the car. Soon
his coupe swung into the drive and pulled up alongside Leaping Lena.
"Sorry to be late," he apologized. "I was held up at the office."
Knowing that her father would have told Jerry about Adelle's
disappearance, Penny inquired regarding the latest news.
"So far there's not a trace of the child," the reporter answered. "Your
father's sore at himself for promising not to carry the story. It may
develop into something big."
Penny walked beside Jerry to the entrance of the cooperative plant.
"No one seems to worry much about Adelle," she remarked. "The institution
people are afraid of unfavorable publicity, Dad's alarmed about his
story, while you and I are just plain indifferent."
"I'm not indifferent," Jerry denied. "In a way I feel responsible for
that kid. But what can we do?"
"Nothing, I guess," acknowledged Penny unwillingly. "Miss Anderson said
they had enough searchers."
Opening the door of the building, they stepped into a huge room which
hummed with activity. Girls in uniforms stood at long tables inspecting
melons which moved on an endless belt arrangement before them. Sorted as
to quality and size, each cantaloupe was stamped and packed in a crate
which was then borne away.
"Hank Holloway around here?" Jerry asked one of the workers.
"Over there," the girl responded, pointing to a burly, red-faced man who
stood at the opposite end of the room.
Jerry and Penny approached the manager of the cooperative.
"Good morning," the man said gruffly, gazing at them critically. "What
can I do for you?"
"We're from the _Star_," Jerry informed. "Do you mind answering a few
questions?"
"I'm pretty busy," Hank Holloway responded, frowning. "What do you want
to know?"
"There's a rumor going the rounds that this cooperative has been forcing
farmers to market their melons through your organization."
"It's a lie!" the manager retorted. "Why they come here begging us to
take their stuff! We get better prices than anyone in this section of the
state, and we pass the profit right back to the farmers."
"How do you account for the depredation that's been going on around here
lately? Who would you say is behind it?"
"What d'you mean, depredation?" Hank Holloway demanded.
"The destruction of the Preston barn just as their melons were ready for
market. Then last night a truck of cantaloupes was stolen from the Davis
place."
"That so?" the manager asked. "Hadn't heard about it. Clem Davis always
was a worthless, no-good. It wouldn't surprise me that he covered his
harvest with plenty of insurance, and then arranged the snatch so he
could collect."
"That hardly seems reasonable," Jerry said dryly.
"You asked for my opinion and I'm giving it to you. The Davis melons were
so inferior we wouldn't handle them at the cooperative."
"Why, I thought their cantaloupes were particularly fine ones!" Penny
protested.
"I don't know what you two are trying to get at!" Hank Holloway said with
sudden anger. "The Cooperative does business in a fair and square way.
Our books are open for inspection at any time. Now you'll have to excuse
me, for I've got work to do."
With a curt nod, he turned away.
Penny and Jerry wandered about the room for a few minutes, watching the
packers. They did not much blame Hank Holloway for showing irritation.
Their questions had been very pointed and the man had immediately guessed
that their purpose was to uncover facts detrimental to the Cooperative.