switched on the headlights and held the paper in its brilliant beam.
The letter read:
Dear Matthew:
Sorry to bother you again, Old Pal, but I know you're always willing to
give an old buddy and cellmate a helping hand. I don't want to tip off
the New York cops where you are, and you can trust me to keep mum if you
come through with another six thousand. This is my last request.
Peter F.
"Peter Fenestra!" exclaimed Penny. "And it's no surprise either! Horney,
where did you find this letter?"
"It was in a pile of rubbish down in the basement. I don't know how it
got there."
"Peter Fenestra has a habit of leaving notes on Mr. Judson's desk,"
declared Penny. "This one may have blown off and been swept out without
the publisher seeing it!"
"Don't you figure it's a blackmail attempt?"
"Of course it is, Horney. You've not shown the letter to anyone?"
"Only to you. From the threat I dope it out that Judson was sent to
prison years ago, and he's still wanted."
Penny nodded as she placed the letter in her pocketbook. His guess was a
shrewd one, but she could tell him nothing without breaking her promise
to Mr. Judson.
"Horney," she said, "a great deal hinges upon this letter. You'll not
tell anyone what you've learned?"
"Oh, I'll keep it to myself. I'm not one to get Judson into trouble. He's
had enough of it already."
Penny noticed that her father's car was not in the garage. She reasoned
that since he had not come home he must be working late at the _Star_
office as he frequently did.
"Jump in, Horney," she invited, swinging wide the car door. "I'm going
downtown to find Dad. I'll give you a ride."
She was grateful that the pressman had little to say as they sped through
dimly lighted residential streets.
How much he suspected she could only guess. But the letter had made it
clear to her that the former publisher never had completed his prison
sentence.
"That was why he didn't answer me when I asked about Pauletta's age!" she
thought. "He must have escaped from prison soon after he was sent there!"
No longer did Penny wonder why Mr. Judson had not refused Peter
Fenestra's repeated demands for money. Obviously he had feared a far
worse fate than exposure--return to the New York state prison.
The car turned into the deserted _Star_ loading dock. Few lights were
visible in the building, for the day staff had gone home and only the
scrub women were at work. Penny could not see the windows of her father's
office from the street. Nor did she observe a man who slouched against a
wall, not far from where the car had stopped.
Old Horney stepped from the running board, thanking Penny for the ride.
"Guess I'll amble up the street and get a cup of coffee."
"You'll be sure not to mention the letter?" Penny reminded him.
"I won't tell a soul. You know, I was thinkin' about it as we rode
downtown. Peter Fenestra came into the office a couple of times just
before Judson closed the plant. He was a dirty blackmailer, all right!
Wouldn't that letter I gave you be enough to send him up?"
"I should think so, Horney. But the problem is how to take care of him
without ruining Mr. Judson."
"Better show the letter to your father," advised the pressman. "Maybe
he'll have some ideas."
Tipping his hat, Old Horney moved briskly away.
Penny entered the rear vestibule, speaking to three scrub women who were
locking up their cleaning equipment before leaving the building. Not even
the elevator man was on duty, so she climbed the stairs. Switching on a
light in the newsroom, she passed through it to her father's office.
The room was dark.
"Not here," thought Penny. "I was afraid of it."
Deciding to telephone home, she entered one of the glass enclosed booths
at the end of the newsroom. As she lifted the receiver, a voice from
behind her said distinctly:
"Put that down!"
Startled, Penny whirled around. Peter Fenestra stood in the doorway of
the booth.
"Come out of there!" he ordered harshly.
Penny obeyed with alacrity as she tried to gather her wits. The building
was practically deserted, and Fenestra took care to stand between her and
the outside door.
"What do you want here?" she demanded coldly.
"The letter."
Penny stared at him blankly. Her astonishment was genuine.
"Don't pretend you don't know," Fenestra said harshly. "I want the letter
you and that old man were talking about."
"Oh!" Light broke upon Penny. "So you heard our conversation! You were
listening!"
"I happened to be standing in the loading dock. I know you have the
letter. Hand it over."
Penny backed a few steps away toward her father's office. "So you admit
you wrote it?" she challenged.
"I admit nothing. But I want that letter."
"You'll not get it," Penny defied him. "Peter Fenestra, you were the one
who put that warning note on my desk a few days ago! And I know why, too!
You were afraid I'd learn too much about the octopus tattoo. Well, I've
learned plenty!"
Fenestra's face became contorted with rage. He choked, "You've been down
in the cave!" and started toward Penny.
Thoroughly frightened, she eluded his grasp. Running into her father's
office, she slammed the door. Bracing her body against it, she managed to
turn the key before Fenestra could force it open.
"Come out of there!" he shouted furiously. "Come out, I say!"
"And I say I won't!" retorted Penny. "Just try to get in!"
She pushed her father's heavy desk across the room, placing it in front
of the door.
Fenestra rattled the handle several times, and threw his body against the
panel once or twice. Then she heard footsteps as he walked away.
"That's only a trick to get me to come out," thought Penny. "I won't be
stupid enough to fall into his trap. I'll stay right here."
Walking to the window, she gazed down. Cars were passing along the
street. If she shouted for help someone might hear her. However, to
explain her predicament would be rather awkward.
Penny's gaze fell upon the telephone which had fallen from the desk to
the floor. Picking it up, she dialed the number of her own house. Mrs.
Weems answered.
"Hello," said Penny cheerfully, "Dad hasn't come home yet by any chance?"
"He's just now driving into the garage," the housekeeper replied. "I'll
call him."
A moment later Penny heard her father's voice at the other end of the
wire.
"Dad," she said, "I'm down at your office, sitting behind some barbed
wire entanglements. I wish you'd get a policeman and see what you can do
about rescuing me."
"Is this one of your jokes?" Mr. Parker demanded.
Fearful that her father would hang up the receiver, Penny talked fast and
to the point. Mr. Parker assured her he would come without a moment's
delay.
"I guess that will teach Peter Fenestra not to get funny with me!" she
congratulated herself. "It pays to do a little thinking. Fenestra will be
arrested, and then I'll drive out and learn what he hides in his cave."
Penny sniffed the air. She could smell smoke, and she thought it must be
coming from a cigarette. Evidently Fenestra had stolen to the door and
was patiently waiting for her to emerge.
"He'll have a long wait," she chuckled.
Gradually her elation died. The odor of smoke had grown stronger. She saw
a wisp of it filter beneath the door crack. Penny's heart caught in her
throat. Tensely she listened. Was it imagination or could she hear the
crackle of flames?
"Fenestra may be burning the papers of a scrap basket just to smoke me
out," she thought. "Probably that's just what he's doing."
Pulling the heavy desk away from the door, she stood with her ear against
the panel. Distinctly she could hear the crackle of flames. The wood felt
warm to her cheek.
Suddenly Penny was afraid. Frantically she turned the key in the lock.
The door swung outward to the pressure of her shoulder. A wave of heat
rushed in.
Penny staggered backward, horrified by the sight which met her eyes. At
the end of the newsroom, where the exit should have been, rose a towering
barrier of flames.
CHAPTER
24
_A BARRIER OF FLAMES_
Escape through the newsroom was cut off. Panic seized Penny, but only for
an instant. Retreating, she telephoned the fire department. Then finding
a chemical extinguisher, she began fighting the flames.
Black, rolling smoke billowed into her face, choking and blinding her.
The heat drove her back.
From far down the street came the wail of a siren. Penny rushed to a
window. A pumper and a hook-and-ladder truck swung around the corner,
lurching to a stop.
Raising the sash, she stepped out onto the ledge, waving to the men
below.
"Stay where you are!" shouted a fireman. "We'll get you!"
A ladder shot up, but Penny did not wait to be carried to safety. Before
a fireman could mount, she scrambled down with the agility of a monkey.
"The fire started in the newsroom," she gasped. "But it's already spread
into the composing department."
"Anyone else in the building?"
"I don't think so. There were three scrub women, but they're probably out
now."
Lines of hose were stretched to the hydrants, and streams of water began
to play on the flames. A crowd, following in the wake of the fire
engines, was ordered back by the police. One young man broke through,
darting to Penny's side.
"Jerry!" she exclaimed.
"Gosh, how did it start?" he demanded. "Why, Penny, your hair is singed!"
"I was in it," she said briefly. "I can't explain now, but the fire was
started by Peter Fenestra."
"On purpose?"
"I don't know about that. He was smoking a cigarette."
"Have you told the police?"
"Not yet. I'm waiting for Dad."
A car inched through the crowd, stopping a few yards away. Mr. Parker
leaped out and ran toward the burning building. He was stopped at the
entrance by a fireman.
"Let me in there!" the publisher shouted, trying to free himself. "My
daughter's inside!"
"No, here I am, Dad!" Penny cried, grasping his hand.
Mr. Parker said no word, but he pulled her to him in a rough embrace. The
next moment he was trying once more to enter the building, intending to
save important papers.
"Take it easy, Parker," advised the fireman, barring the door with his
hose. "The smoke's bad in there."
"Will the building go?"
"We'll save most of it," the fireman assured him confidently.
Penny plucked at her father's sleeve. "Dad, oughtn't the police be sent
after Peter Fenestra? He's responsible for this, and a lot of other
things, too!"
"You mean Fenestra set the fire?"
Above the roar of flames, Penny tersely disclosed how the man had
compelled her to take refuge in the inner office room. Jerry also heard
the story, and when she had finished, he said to Mr. Parker:
"Chief, let me take a couple of policemen and nail that fellow! Maybe we
can arrest him at the farm before he makes a get-away."
"Go ahead," urged Mr. Parker.
"I'm going along," declared Penny, and darted away before her father
could stop her.
Twenty minutes later, with a police cruiser dispatched to Fenestra's
place, she and Jerry drove there in Mr. Parker's car. Parking some
distance down the road, they walked cautiously toward the farmhouse which
loomed dark against the sky. No lights burned in the windows. The grounds
appeared deserted.
"Looks as if Fenestra isn't here," observed Jerry. "No use waiting for
the police."
Boldly going to the front door he pounded on it, ordering in a loud
voice: "Open up!"
"He's not here," said Penny after a moment. "Unless perhaps he's hiding."
"The place looks deserted to me."
Penny glanced toward the storm cave, remembering that she had the key to
the padlock in her pocket. Jerry read her thought, and followed as she
went quickly toward the mound.
"It's locked," he said, indicating the padlock.
"Here's the key." Eagerly Penny offered it to Jerry. "I'm sure this must
be the one."
The reporter gave her a flashlight to hold while he tried to fit the key
into the lock.
"It's no go, Penny."
"But I was so sure, Jerry." She stooped to examine the padlock. "Well, no
wonder! It's been changed."
"Then we're out of luck until the police get here."
"Isn't there any way we can open it ourselves?"
"Maybe I can break it."
"There should be tools in the barn, Jerry."
"I'll see what I can find."
Leaving Penny, the reporter disappeared in the direction of the barn.
Extinguishing the flashlight, she patiently waited.
Suddenly she was startled to hear running footsteps. Barely had she
crouched behind the storm cave before a man emerged from among the pine
trees adjoining the road. It was Peter Fenestra and he was breathing
hard.
Straight toward the cave he ran. Pausing at the slanting door, he peered
quickly about, and then fumbled with the padlock. In desperate haste he
jerked it loose, swung back the hinged door, and descended the stone
steps.
Penny waited a moment, then crept to the entrance.
Fenestra had not taken time to lower the door behind him. A light shone
from an underground room at one side of the main passageway, and she
could hear the man's heavy boots scuffing on a cement floor.
Penny considered going after Jerry and decided against it. Fenestra's
frantic haste suggested that he might not linger long in the cave. What
could he be doing beneath ground?
With Jerry so near, she felt that it would not be too dangerous to
investigate. Warily she tiptoed down the steps.
A low, rounding doorway opened from the descending passage. Peering into
the dimly lighted room, Penny did not immediately see Peter Fenestra.
Instead her gaze roved about the walls of what appeared to be a workshop.
Tools were neatly arranged over a bench, while a cupboard of shelves
contained miscellaneous mechanical parts.
At the far end of the cave stood an urn-like contrivance which the girl
took to be an electric furnace. An armored cable ran from it to a heavy
wall switch having two blades and a sizable wooden handle. Plainly it was
designed to carry a very heavy current.
Peter Fenestra came from behind the furnace. Penny saw him throw the
switch. Almost immediately she heard a low hissing sound from the
interior of the metal oven. Slowly the furnace heated, and soon glowed
weirdly.
As she pondered what the man could be intending to do, she heard a slight
sound at the stairway entrance. Thinking that Jerry had returned, she
started up the steps. Not one figure but three loomed in the doorway!
Penny flattened herself against the dirt wall. But she could not avoid
being seen. A flashlight beam focused upon her, and the next instant a
revolver muzzle bit into her side.
"Keep quiet!" she was ordered in a whisper. "You won't be hurt!"
Penny stared into the grim face of Anchor Joe. Behind him came John Munn,
and a man she had never seen before. In a flash she knew why they were
there--to avenge themselves upon Peter Fenestra.
Quietly as the men had moved, they had been heard in the next room.
"Who's there?" Fenestra called sharply.
John Munn and Anchor Joe stepped into the rectangle of light, their
revolvers trained upon the man.
"Just three of your old pals, Otto," drawled Anchor Joe. "Reach!"
"Listen, Joe, you got me all wrong," Peter Fenestra whined. "I can
explain why I kept the gold. I'll give it all to you if that's what you
want. I'll do anything--don't shoot."
"Shootin' would be too good for you," retorted Anchor Joe. "We got other
plans." His face was dark with rage.
"Sure, we know how to deal with a traitor," added John Munn, deftly
whisking a revolver from Fenestra's hip pocket. "You thought you could
hide from us. You thought by changing your name, and coming to this
out-of-the-way town you could fool us. Why, you dirty rat, you even
thought you could get by with pushing me off a bridge!"
"Your greed kept you here," taunted Anchor Joe. "You couldn't bear to
leave any of those gold bars behind."
"You thought you'd melt down the last of 'em tonight and skip," added
John Munn. "You're goin' on a long trip all right, but with us!"
A pair of steel cuffs were slipped over Fenestra's wrists. Speedily, the
sailors searched the cave, gathering up several bags of what Penny
assumed to be gold.
"How about this bar?" John Munn asked his companions. "Can we handle it?"
"Too heavy," answered Anchor Joe. "With Moyer hot on our trail, we've got
to travel light. Get going and I'll follow."
Munn and his companion marched Peter Fenestra from the cave. Taking a
cord from his pocket, Anchor Joe bound Penny's hands and feet.
"I'm tying 'em loose," he said. "And I'll leave the cave door open. After
we're gone you can yell for help."
"Joe, where are you taking Fenestra? What has he done?"
The sailor did not answer. Seizing a bag of gold, he slung it over his
shoulder and went quickly up the stairs. Penny was left in the darkness.
CHAPTER
25
_SAILORS' REVENGE_
Minutes later, Jerry, returning from the barn, heard Penny's muffled
scream for help. Descending into the cave he immediately freed her and
learned what had happened.
"Fenestra used this furnace for melting down gold all right!" he
exclaimed, peering into the dark cavern. "Wonder where he got it?"
"It must be stolen gold--government gold, perhaps," gasped Penny. "Jerry,
those men have been gone only a minute or two!"
"Then maybe we can get 'em yet!"
Jerry had heard an automobile turn into the yard. Hopeful that it might
be the awaited authorities, he and Penny ran up the stone steps. To their
joy they saw that it was the police cruiser.
In terse sentences they told their story to the officers. Penny had no
idea which direction the men had gone, but the reporter recalled having
seen a group of four walking toward the river just as he had left the
barn.
With Jerry and Penny standing on the running board, the police car headed
in the direction of the Big Bear. Suddenly a series of explosive sounds
were heard, staccato noises similar to the back-firing of an automobile
exhaust.
"Shots!" exclaimed Jerry. "From the river, too!"
The car drew to a halt. The policemen leaped out and started across the
fields. Disregarding orders to remain behind, Penny and Jerry followed.
Breathlessly, they reached the rim of the river. A beam of light directed
their gaze to the opposite shore. A high-powered motor boat had pulled
away and was fast gathering speed. Flashes of gunfire from its decks were
answered by the revolvers of men on the river bank.
Shielding Penny with his body, Jerry drew her behind a tree. In a moment
as the motor boat passed beyond range, firing ceased. Then they slid down
the bank to learn what had occurred.
Penny saw that Peter Fenestra had been captured. He was handcuffed to Mr.
Moyer, and she instantly guessed that the other four men were government
operatives.
"Find a boat and start after those three sailors who got away!" Moyer
ordered his men tersely. "I'll take this fellow to town."
Penny edged forward, obtaining an excellent view of Peter Fenestra's
downcast face. Quietly she made her accusations, telling of the cave
where she had been imprisoned.
"So that was how the gold was melted down," commented Moyer.
He then explained that for days his operatives had watched the river
where they knew Anchor Joe had hidden a motorboat. Surprised in the act
of taking off, the sailors had exchanged shots with the government men,
but by abandoning Fenestra and the gold, they had escaped.
"This man's real name is Otto Franey," Moyer revealed, indicating
Fenestra. "He and the three sailors were shipmates aboard the _Dorasky_."
"They're wanted for stealing gold?" questioned Penny.
"Yes, they got away with four gold bars taken from the _Dorasky_. You
see, about a year ago a consignment of gold was shipped by a Swiss bank
to the New York Federal Reserve. Because of heavy fog the bars were
unloaded at the pier instead of being taken off at Quarantine. They were
removed in a sling and dumped on the wharf to await the mail truck."
"And the four sailors saw a chance to steal some of the bars?" questioned
Jerry.
"Yes, how they accomplished it we don't know. But hours later a mail
driver refused to sign for one of the bags because it had been slit open.
Four bars valued at approximately fourteen thousand dollars each were
missing. Investigation disclosed that a sailor, Otto Franey, had jumped
ship. A few days later Joe Landa, John Munn and Jack Guenther also
disappeared."
"Each man was marked with an octopus tattoo, wasn't he?" Penny inquired
eagerly.
"Yes, although I did not learn that until a day or so ago. Otto has been
trying to get his tattoo removed so that it would be harder to trace him.
The four sailors had their backs marked with an octopus design and words
which read, _All for one, one for all_, when put together. They were
feeling very friendly toward each other at that time."
"Then I was right!" exclaimed Penny. "And the four conspired to steal the
gold bars?"
"Otto was entrusted by his pals to dispose of the stolen gold. Instead,
he gave them the slip and tried to keep it for himself. Evidently he
rigged up a furnace and melted the metal into useable form. But the three
sailors trailed him here, determined to avenge themselves."
As Fenestra was hustled to a waiting car, Penny told Mr. Moyer everything
she knew about the prisoner, save his connection with Matthew Judson.
Deliberately she withheld information about the blackmail plot.
While the prisoner was being loaded into the government car, another
automobile drew up nearby. Recognizing Mr. Parker at the wheel, Penny and
Jerry ran to tell him the latest news.
"Full speed ahead, Chief!" exclaimed the reporter, sliding into the front
seat. "We've got a big story by the tail!"
"A lot of good it does us," responded the publisher gloomily.
"You mean the firemen failed to save the _Star_ building?" Penny asked
anxiously.
"The building's saved, but considerable damage was done by fire and
water. We can't use the plant for several days. It's enough to make a man
ill! Scooped by the opposition when the story is ours!"
"You forget the little _Weekly Times_," reminded Penny. "Old Homey has
everything ready to roll. I'm turning the plant over to you."
"To me?" Mr. Parker did not understand her meaning.
"Yes, gather your mechanical force. The plant's yours for the night."
"Penny, you're the tops!" the publisher exclaimed, starting the car with
a lurch. "Together we'll get out an extra that will be an extra!"
After that Penny lost all sense of time as events transpired with
rapidity and precision. As if by magic the staff of the _Star_ appeared
to take over the _Times_ plant. The building shook off its lethargy and
machinery began to turn.
Allowing Jerry to write the big story, Penny tried to be everywhere at
once. She fluttered at DeWitt's elbow as he drew a dummy of the front
page.
"Let's make it 96-point type," she urged. "Splashy! A double column story
with a break-over to page three."
"Anything you say," was DeWitt's surprising answer.
In the composing room, printers were locking the forms, using pages
previously made ready for the next issue of the _Weekly Times_.
Stereotypers were testing the pneumatic steam tables. Pressmen under Old
Horney's direction oiled the double-deck rotaries and tightened bolts.
At last came the moment when the starter plate was fitted into place on
the cylinder. With a half turn of a T wrench Old Horney made it secure.
"She's ready," he announced, flashing the signal light. "You push the
button, Penny."
Trembling with excitement, she started the press rolling. Faster and
faster it went. In a moment papers dropped so swiftly from the folder
that her eye could not follow. A conveyer carried them upward over the
presses to the distributing room.
Mr. Parker offered Penny a paper, smiling as he saw her stare at the
nameplate. Instead of the _Star_ it read: _The Weekly Times_.
"Why, Dad!" she exclaimed. "They've made a mistake."
"It's no mistake," he corrected. "This is your extra. Your name appears
as Managing Editor."
"So that was why DeWitt was so agreeable to all my suggestions?" she
laughed. "I might have guessed."
Later, while newsboys cried their wares, Penny and her father sat in the
private office, talking with Matthew Judson. From his own lips they
learned how he had submitted to blackmail rather than disgrace Pauletta
by returning to prison.
"Your case is a deserving one," Mr. Parker told him kindly. "I assure you
we'll never publish the story, and I'll do everything in my power to help
you obtain a pardon."