"What can this be?" Penny thought in amazement. "Nothing, I guess."
She crumpled the paper and tossed it away. But as it skittered and
bounced like a tumble weed down the trail, she suddenly changed her mind
and darted after it again. Carefully straightening out the page she
examined it a second time.
"This looks like copy paper used in a newspaper office," she told
herself. "But there is no newspaper in Pine Top, I wonder--?"
The conviction came to Penny that the jumbled letters might be in code.
Her pulse leaped at the thought. If only she were able to decipher it!
"I'll take this to the lodge and work on it," she decided quickly. "Who
knows? It may be just the key I need to unlock this strange affair of the
Green Door!"
CHAPTER
9
_A CALL FOR HELP_
All that afternoon and far into the evening Penny devoted to her assigned
task, trying to make sense out of the jumbled sentence of typewriting.
She used first one method and then another, but she could not decode the
brief message. She had moments when she even doubted that it was a code.
At last, completely disgusted, she threw down her pencil and put the
paper away in a bureau drawer.
"I never was meant to be a cryptographer or whatever you call those
brainy fellows who unravel ciphers and things!" she grumbled. "Maybe the
trouble with me is that I'm not bright."
Switching off the lamp, Penny rolled up the shade, and stood for a moment
gazing down into the dark valley. Far below she could see lights glowing
in the Fergus hotel, mysterious and challenging.
"I feel as if I'm on the verge of an important discovery, yet nothing
happens," she sighed. "Something unusual is going on here, but what?"
Penny did not believe that Francine knew the answer either. The girl
reporter undoubtedly had been sent to Pine Top upon a definite tip from
her editor, yet she could not guess the nature of such a tip. It was
fairly evident that Francine was after some sort of evidence, but so far
she had made no progress in acquiring it.
"We're both groping in the dark, searching for something we know is here
but can't see," thought Penny. "And we watch each other like hawks for
fear the other fellow will get the jump!"
The Green Door intrigued and puzzled her. While it might mean nothing at
all, she could not shake off a feeling that if once she were able to get
inside the room she might learn the answer to some of her questions.
Penny had turned over several plans in her mind, none of which suited
her. The most obvious thing to do was to try to bribe an employee of the
hotel to give her the information she sought. But if she failed, her
identity would be disclosed to Ralph Fergus and Harvey Maxwell. It seemed
wiser to bide her time and watch.
Penny awoke the next morning to find large flakes of snow piling on the
window sills. The storm continued and after breakfast only the most
rugged skiers ventured out on the slopes. Francine hugged a hot air
register, complaining that there was not enough heat, Many of the other
guests, soon exhausting the supply of magazines, became restless.
Luncheon was over when Penny stamped in out of the cold to find Mr.
Glasser fretfully pacing to and fro before the fireplace.
"When will the papers come?" he asked Mrs. Downey.
"Jake usually goes down to the village after them about four o'clock. But
with this thick weather, the plane may not get in today."
"It's in now, Mrs. Downey," spoke Penny, shaking snow from her red
mittens. "I saw it nearly half an hour ago, flying low over the valley."
"Then the papers must be at Pine Top by this time." Mrs. Downey hesitated
before adding: "I'll call Jake from his work and ask him to go after
them."
"Let me," offered Penny quickly.
"In this storm?"
"Oh, I don't mind. I rather like it."
"All right, then," agreed Mrs. Downey in relief. "But don't get lost,
whatever you do. If the trails become snowed over it might be better to
stay on the main road."
"I won't get lost," laughed Penny. "If worse comes to worst I always can
climb a pine tree and sight the Fergus hotel."
She dried out her mittens, and putting on an extra sweater beneath her
jacket, stepped outside the lodge. The wind had fallen and only a few
snowflakes were whirling down. Hearing the faint tingle of bells, Penny
turned to gaze toward the road, where a pair of white horses were pulling
an empty lumber wagon up the hill.
The driver, hunched over on the seat, was slapping his hands together to
keep them warm.
"Why, that looks like Old Whiskers himself," thought Penny. "It is Peter
Jasko."
The observation served only to remind her of their unpleasant meeting.
Since being so discourteously ejected from the Jasko property Penny had
not ventured back. Knowing that the old man was away she felt sorely
tempted to again visit the locality.
"I guess I ought not to take the time," she decided regretfully. "Mr.
Glasser will be fretting for his paper."
Making a quick trip down the mountainside, Penny swung into the village.
Mrs. Downey had told her that she would be able to get the newspapers at
the Pine Top Cafe where a boy named Benny Smith had an agency.
Entering the restaurant, she glanced about but saw no one who was selling
papers. Finally, she ventured to ask the proprietor if she had come to
the right place.
"This is the right place," he agreed cheerfully. "Benny went home a
little while ago."
"Then how do I get the papers for Mrs. Downey's lodge?"
"Guess you're out of luck," he replied. "They didn't come in today."
"But I saw the plane."
"The plane got through all right. I don't know what was wrong. Somehow
the papers weren't put aboard."
Penny turned away in disappointment. She had made the long trip to the
village for no purpose. While she did not mind for herself, she knew that
Mr. Glasser and the other guests were likely to be annoyed. After a day
of confinement indoors they looked forward to news from the outside
world.
"It's strange the papers didn't come," she mused as she started back to
the Downey lodge. "This isn't the first time they've failed to arrive
either."
Penny climbed steadily for a time and then sat down on a log to rest a
moment. She was not far from the Jasko cabin. By making her own trail
through the woods she could reach it in a very few minutes.
A mischievous idea leaped into her mind, fairly teasing to be put into
effect. What fun to climb the forbidden barbed wire fence and honeycomb
Mr. Jasko's field with ski tracks! She could visualize his annoyance when
he returned home to learn that a mysterious skier had paid him a visit.
"He oughtn't to be so mean," she said aloud to justify herself. "It will
serve him right for trying to frighten folks with shotguns!"
Penny fastened on her skis and glided off through the woods. She kept her
directions straight and soon emerged into a clearing to find herself in
view of the Jasko cabin. Drawing near the barbed wire fence she stopped
short and stared.
"Why, that old scamp! He really did it!"
A new strand of wire had been added to the fence, making it many inches
higher. Penny's suggestion, offered as a joke, had been acted upon by
Peter Jasko. Not even an expert ski jumper could hope to clear the
improved barrier. Any person who came unwittingly down the steep slope
must take a disastrous tumble at the base of the fence.
"This settles it," thought Penny grimly. "My conscience is perfectly
clear now."
She rolled under the fence and surveyed the unblemished expanse of snowy
field with the eye of a mechanical draftsman.
"I may as well be honest about it and sign my name," she chuckled.
Starting in at the far corner of the field she made a huge double-edged
"P" with her long runners. It took a little ingenuity to figure out an
"E" but two "N's" were fairly easy to execute. She finished "Y" off with
a flourish and cocked her head sideways to view her handiwork.
"Not bad, not bad at all," she congratulated herself. "Only I've used up
too much space. We'll have to have a big Penny and a little Parker."
She ran off a "P" and an "A" but even her limber body was not equal to
the contortion required for an "R." In the process of making a neat curve
she suddenly lost her balance and toppled over in an ungainly heap.
"Oh, now I've done it!" she moaned, slowly picking herself up. "All my
wonderful artistry gone for nothing. 'Parker' looks like a big smudge!"
A sound, suspiciously suggesting a muffled shout of laughter, reached
Penny's ears. She glanced quickly about. No one was in sight. The windows
of the cabin were deserted.
"I think I'll be getting out of here," she decided. "If Old Whiskers
should come back this wouldn't be a healthy place to practice
handwriting."
Penny dug in her poles and glided toward the fence. In the act of rolling
under the barbed wires, she suddenly froze motionless. She had heard a
cry and this time there was no doubt in her mind as to the direction from
which the sound had come. Her startled gaze focused upon the cabin amid
the trees.
"Help! Help!" called a shrill, half muffled voice. "Come back, and let me
out of my prison!"
CHAPTER
10
_LOCKED IN THE CABIN_
Penny hesitated, and as the call was repeated, went slowly back toward
the cabin. She could see no one.
"Up here!" shouted the voice.
Glancing toward the second story windows, Penny saw a girl standing
there, her face pressed to the pane.
"Peter Jasko's granddaughter!" thought Penny. "And she must have seen me
decorating the place with ski tracks."
However, the other girl was only concerned with her own predicament. She
smiled and motioned for Penny to come directly under the window.
"Can you help me get out of here?" she called down.
"You're not locked in?" inquired Penny in astonishment.
"I certainly am! My grandfather did it. He fastened the door of the
loft."
"How long have you been there?"
"Oh, not very long," the girl answered impatiently, "but I'm sick of it!
Will you help me out of here?"
"How?"
"Grandfather always hides the key to the outside door in the woodshed. It
should be hanging on a nail by the window."
Penny hardly knew what to do. It was one thing to annoy Peter Jasko by
making a few ski tracks in his yard, but quite another to antagonize him
in more serious ways. For all she could tell, he might have locked the
girl in the cabin as a punishment for some wrongdoing.
"Does your grandfather often leave you like this?" she asked dubiously.
"Always when there's snow on the ground," came the surprising answer.
"Oh, please let me out of this hateful place! Don't be such a
goody-good!"
To be accused of being a "goody-good" was a novel experience for Penny.
But instead of taking offense she laughed and started toward the
woodshed.
"On a nail by the window!" the girl shouted after her. "If it isn't there
look on the shelf by the door."
Penny found the key and came back. Taking off her cumbersome skis, she
unlocked the front door and stepped inside the cabin. The room was rather
cold for the fire had nearly gone out. Despite a bareness of furniture,
the place had a comfortable appearance. Snowshoes decorated the walls
along with a deer head and an out-dated calendar. There was a cook stove,
a homemade table, chairs, and a cot.
"Do hurry up!" called the impatient voice from above. "Climb the steps."
At the far end of the room a rickety, crudely constructed ladder ascended
to a rectangular trap door in the ceiling. Mounting it, Penny
investigated the fastening, a stout plug of wood. She turned it and
pushed up the heavy door. Instantly, it was seized from above and pulled
out of the way.
Head and shoulders through the opening, Penny glanced about curiously.
The room under the roof certainly did not look like a prison cell. It was
snug and warm, with curtains at the windows and books lining the wall
shelves. The floor was covered with a bright colored rag rug. There was a
comfortable looking bed, a rocker and even a dressing table.
"Thanks for letting me out."
Penny turned to gaze at the girl who stood directly behind her. She was
not very pretty, for her nose was far too blunt and her teeth a trifle
uneven. One could see a faint resemblance to Peter Jasko.
"You're welcome, I guess," replied Penny, but with no conviction. "I hope
your grandfather won't be too angry."
"Oh, he won't know about it," the girl answered carelessly. "I see you
know who I am--Sara Jasko."
"My name is Penny Parker."
"I guessed the Penny part. I saw you trying to write it in the snow. You
don't believe in signs either, do you?"
"I didn't have any right to trespass."
"Oh, don't worry about that. Grandfather is an old fuss-budget. But deep
down inside he's rather nice."
"Why did he lock you up here?"
"It's a long story," sighed Sara. "I'll tell you about it later. Come on,
let's get out of here."
Penny backed down the ladder. The amazing granddaughter of Peter Jasko
followed, taking the steps as nimbly as a monkey.
Going to a closet, Sara pulled out a wind-breaker, woolen cap, and a
stub-toed pair of high leather shoes which she began to lace up.
"You're not aiming to run away?" Penny asked uneasily.
"Only for an hour or so. This snow is too beautiful to waste. But you'll
have to help me get back to my prison."
"I don't know what this is all about. Suppose you tell me, Sara."
"Oh, Grandfather is funny," replied the girl, digging in the closet again
for her woolen gloves. "He doesn't trust me out of his sight when there's
snow on the ground. Today he had to go up the mountain to get a load of
wood so he locked me in."
"What has snow to do with it?"
"Why, everything! You must have heard about Grandfather. He hates
skiing."
"Oh, and you like to ski," said Penny, "is that it?"
"I adore it! My father, Bret Jasko, was a champion." Sara's animated face
suddenly became sober. "He was killed on this very mountain. Grandfather
never recovered from the shock."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," murmured Penny sympathetically.
"It happened ten years ago while my father was skiing. Ever since then
Grandfather has had an almost fanatical hatred of the hotel people. And
he is deathly afraid I'll get hurt in some way. He forbids me to ski even
on the easy slopes."
"But you do it anyway?"
"Of course. I slip away whenever I can," Sara admitted cheerfully.
"Skiing is in my blood. I couldn't give it up."
"And you don't mind deceiving your grandfather?"
"You don't understand. There's no reasoning with him. Each year he gets a
little more set in his ways. He knows that I slip away to ski, and that's
why he locks me up. Otherwise, Grandfather is a dear. He's taken care of
me since my father died."
Sara wriggled into her awkward-fitting coat, wrapped a red scarf about
her throat and started for the door.
"Coming, Penny?"
"I haven't promised yet that I will help you get back into your
cubby-hole."
"But you will," said Sara confidently.
"I suppose so," sighed Penny. "Nevertheless, I don't particularly like
this."
They stepped out of the cabin into the blinding sunlight. The storm had
stopped, but the wind blew a gust of snow from the roof into their faces.
"My skis are hidden in the woods," said Sara. "We'll walk along the fence
so my footprints won't be so noticeable."
"The place is pretty well marked up now," Penny observed dryly. "Your
grandfather would have to be blind not to see them."
"Yes, but they're your tracks, not mine," grinned Sara. "Besides, this
strong wind is starting to drift the snow."
They followed the barbed wire fence to the woods. Sara went straight to
an old log and from its hollow interior drew out a pair of hickory
jumping skis.
"Let's walk up to Mrs. Downey's lodge," she proposed. "Her chute is a
dandy, but most of the guests are afraid to use it."
"I haven't tried it myself," admitted Penny. "It looks higher than Pike's
Peak."
"Oh, you have plenty of nerve," returned Sara carelessly. "I saw you take
Grandfather's barbed wire entanglements."
"That was a matter of necessity."
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," laughed Sara, linking arms with Penny
and pulling her along at a fast pace. "I'll teach you a few tricks."
They climbed the slope steadily until forced to pause for a moment to
catch their breath.
"Mrs. Downey isn't using the bob-sled run this year, is she?" Sara
inquired curiously.
"I didn't know anything about it."
"She has a fine one on her property, but it's out of sight from the
lodge. I guess there haven't been enough guests this season to make it
worth while. Too bad. Bob-sled racing is even more fun than skiing."
Coming within view of the Downey lodge, Penny observed that a few of the
more hardy guests had taken advantage of the lull in the storm, and were
out on the slopes, falling, picking themselves up, falling again.
"I have to run into the house a minute," Penny excused herself. "I'll be
right back."
She found Mrs. Downey in the kitchen and reported to her that she had
been unable to purchase papers in the village.
"The plane came in, didn't it?"
"Yes, but for some reason the papers weren't put on."
"I wonder if the Fergus hotel managed to get any?"
"I don't see how they could."
"It's happened before," declared Mrs. Downey.
"Time after time we miss our papers, and then I learn later that the
Fergus hotel guests had them. I don't understand it, Penny."
"Shall I tell Mr. Glasser?"
"I'll do it," sighed Mrs. Downey. "He's going to be more irritated than
ever now."
Penny went outside to find Sara waiting impatiently for her. The girl had
strapped on her skis, and was using two sharp-pointed sticks for poles.
"Ready to try the jump, Penny?"
"No, but I'll watch you."
"There's nothing to it, Penny," encouraged Sara as they climbed side by
side. "Just keep relaxed and be sure to have your skis pointing upward
while you're in the air."
As it became evident that the girls intended to try the chute, a little
crowd of spectators gathered on the slope below to watch.
"I'll go first," said Sara, "and after I've landed, you come after me."
"I'll think it over," shivered Penny.
"Don't think too long, or you'll never try it. Just start."
Sara bent to examine her bindings. Then in a graceful crouch she shot
down the hill and with a lifting of her arms soared over the take-off.
She made a perfectly poised figure in mid-air and an effortless landing
on the slope below, finishing off with a christiana turn.
"She's _good_!" thought Penny. "I'll try it, too, even if they carry me
off on a stretcher!"
In a wave of enthusiasm she pushed off, keeping her arms behind her. As
the edge of the chute loomed up, she swung them forward and sprang into
the air. But something went wrong. In an instant she was off balance, her
arms swinging wildly in a futile attempt to straighten her body into
position.
The gully appeared to be miles below her. Panic surged over Penny and her
muscles became rigid. She was going to take a hard fall.
"Relax! Relax!" screamed a shrill voice.
With a supreme effort Penny drew back one ski and bent her knees. She
felt a hard jar, and in amazement realized that she had landed on her
feet. Her elation was short lived, for the next instant she collapsed and
went sliding on down the slope.
Sara ran to help her up.
"Hurt?"
"Not a bit," laughed Penny. "What a spectacle I must have made!"
"Your jump wasn't half bad. Next time you'll do much better."
"I'll never make one as good as yours," Penny said enviously. Seeing
Francine standing near, she turned to the reporter and exclaimed: "Did
you watch Sara's jump? Wasn't it magnificent?"
"You're both lucky you weren't injured." Francine walked over to the two
girls. She stared at Sara's odd looking costume. "You're not a guest
here?" she inquired.
"No," answered Sara.
"Nor at the Fergus hotel?"
"I live a ways down the mountain."
Francine regarded her coldly. "You're the Jasko girl, aren't you, whose
grandfather will not allow skiers on his property?"
"Yes, but--"
"Since you Jaskos are so sign conscious I should think you might obey
them yourself! Take a glance at that one over on the tree. Unless my
eyesight is failing it reads: 'Only guests of the hotel may use these
slopes.'"
CHAPTER
11
_A NEWSPAPER MYSTERY_
Penny stared at Francine, for a moment not believing that she had meant
the remark seriously. As she comprehended that the girl indeed was
serious, she exclaimed in quick protest:
"Oh, Francine, what an attitude to take! Sara is my guest. I'm sure Mrs.
Downey doesn't mind."
"I'll go," offered Sara in a quiet voice. "I never dreamed I would offend
anyone by being here."
"I'm not particularly offended," replied Francine defensively. "It merely
seems reasonable to me that if you won't allow others on your property
you shouldn't trespass yourself."
"Sara had nothing to do with that sign on her grandfather's land,"
declared Penny. "Francine, you must have jumped out of the wrong side of
the bed this morning."
Sara had turned to walk away. Penny caught her hand, trying to detain
her.
"Wait, I'll run into the lodge and ask Mrs. Downey. But I know very well
it will be all right for you to stay."
Sara hesitated, and might have consented, save at that instant the three
girls heard the faint tinkle of bells. A sled loaded with wood came into
view around a curve of the mountain road.
"That's grandfather on his way home!" exclaimed Sara. "I must get back
there before he learns I've been away! Hurry, Penny!"
With several quick thrusts of her sticks, she started down the trail
which led to the Jasko cabin. Penny followed, but she could not overtake
her companion. Sara skied with a reckless skill which defied imitation.
While Penny was forced to stem, she took the rough track with no
perceptible slackening of speed, and had divested herself of skis by the
time her companion reached the woods.
"We'll have to work fast," she warned, hiding the long runners in the
hollow log. "I want you to lock me in the cabin and then get away before
Grandfather sees you!"
"What about our tracks in the snow?"
"I'll blame them all on you," laughed Sara, "It's beginning to get dark
now. And Grandfather is near sighted."
"I don't like this business at all," complained Penny as they kept close
to the fence on their way to the cabin. "Why not tell your grandfather--"
"He would rage for days and never let me out again. No, this is the best
way. And you'll come back soon, won't you, Penny?"
"I don't like to promise."
"I'll teach you how to jump." Sara offered attractive bait.
"We'll see. I'll think it over."
"No, promise!" persisted Sara. "Say you'll come back and at least talk to
me through the window. You have no idea how lonesome I get."
"All right," Penny suddenly gave in. "I'll do that much."
Reaching the cabin, Sara had Penny tramp about in the snow with her skis
so as to give the impression that a visitor had walked several times
around the building but had not entered.
"You'll have to lock me in the loft," she instructed. "Then take the key
back to the woodshed and get away as quickly as you can."
Sara pulled off her garments and hung them in the closet. With a mop she
wiped up tracks which had been made on the bare floor. Then she climbed
up the ladder to her room.
Penny turned the wooden peg, and retreating from the cabin, locked the
door.
"Don't forget!" Sara called to her from the window. "Come again
soon--tomorrow if you can."
Hiding the key in the woodshed, Penny tramped about the outside of the
building several times before gliding off toward the boundary fence. As
she began a tedious climb up the trail toward the Downey lodge, she saw
the sled appear around a bend of the road.
Penny did not visit the Jasko cabin the following day nor the next. Along
with other guests she was kept indoors by a raging snow and sleet storm
which blocked the road and disrupted telephone service to the village.
Everyone at the Downey lodge suffered from the confinement, but some
accepted the situation more philosophically than others. As usual Mr.
Glasser complained because there were no daily papers. Penny overheard
him telling another guest he was thinking very seriously of moving to the
Fergus hotel where at least a certain amount of entertainment was
provided.
"He'll leave," Mrs. Downey observed resignedly when the conversation was
repeated to her. "I've seen it coming for days. Mr. Glasser has been
talking with one of the runners for the Fergus hotel."
"It's unfair of them to try to take your guests away."
"Oh, they're determined to put me out of business at any cost. Miss
Sellberg is leaving, too. She served notice this morning."
Penny glanced up with quick interest. "Francine? Is she leaving Pine
Top?"
"No, she told me she had decided to move to the Fergus hotel because of
its better location."
Penny nodded thoughtfully. She could understand that if Francine were
trying to gain special information about either Ralph Fergus or Harvey
Maxwell, it would be to her advantage to have a room at the other hotel.
Had it not been for her loyalty to Mrs. Downey, she, too, would have been
tempted to take up headquarters there.
"I can't really blame folks for leaving," Mrs. Downey continued after a
moment. "I've not offered very much entertainment this year. Last season
in addition to skiing we had the bob-sled run."
"I met Sara Jasko and she was telling me about it," replied Penny. "Can't
you use the run again this year?"
"We could, but it scarcely seems worth the trouble and expense. Also, it
takes experienced drivers to steer the sleds. The young man I had working
for me last winter isn't available at present."
"Is there no other person at Pine Top who could do it?"
"Sara Jasko," responded Mrs. Downey, smiling. "However, it's not likely
her grandfather would give his consent."
The following day dawned bright and clear and brought a revival of spirit
at the Downey lodge. Nevertheless, with the roads open once more, both
Francine and Mr. Glasser moved their belongings down to the Fergus hotel.
As was to be expected, their departure caused a certain amount of comment
by the other guests.
Late in the afternoon Penny offered to ski down to Pine Top for the
newspapers. She planned to stop at the Fergus hotel upon her return,
hoping to learn a little more about the mysterious Green Room which had
intrigued her interest.
Reaching the village, Penny located Benny Smith, but the lad shook his
head when she inquired for the daily papers.
"I don't have any today."
"But the plane came through! I saw it myself about an hour ago. This
makes four days since we've had a newspaper at the lodge. What happened?"
The boy glared at Penny almost defiantly. "You can't blame me. It's not
my fault if they're not put on the plane."
"No, of course not. I didn't mean to suggest that you were at fault. It's
just queer that we miss our papers so often. And we never seem to get the
back editions either."
"Well, I don't know anything about it," the boy muttered.
Penny stood watching him slouch off down the street. Something about the
lad's manner made her wonder if he had not lied. She suddenly was
convinced that Benny knew more about the missing newspapers than he cared
to tell.
"But how would he profit by not receiving them?" she mused. "He would
lose sales. It simply doesn't make sense."
As she trudged on down the street Penny turned the problem over in her
mind. She walked with head bent low and did not notice an approaching
pedestrian until she had bumped into him.
"Sorry," apologized the man politely.
"It was my fault," replied Penny. She glanced up to see that the stranger
was no stranger at all, but the airplane pilot who had brought her to
Pine Top several days before.
He would have passed on had she not halted him with a question.
"I wonder if you could tell me what seems to be the trouble with the
newspaper delivery service here at Pine Top?"
"We couldn't get through yesterday on account of the weather," he
returned.
"But what happened to the papers today?"
"Nothing."
"You mean they came through?" Penny asked in surprise.
"That's right. You can get them from Benny Smith."
"From Benny? But he said--"
Penny started to reveal that the boy had blamed the failure of service
upon the pilot, and then changed her mind.
"Thank you," she returned, "I'll talk with him."
Penny was more puzzled than ever, but she had no reason to doubt the
pilot's word. Obviously, the newspapers had arrived at Pine Top, and
Benny Smith knew what had become of them.
"I'll just investigate this matter a little further," Penny decided as
she left the village.
Approaching the Fergus hotel a few minutes later, she paused to catch her
breath before going inside. In the gathering twilight the building looked
more than ever like a great Swiss chalet. The pitched roof was burdened
with a thick layer of white snow, and long icicles hung from the window
ledges.
Inside the crowded, smoke-filled lobby there was an air of gaiety. A few
lights had been turned on, and the orchestra could be heard tuning up in
the dining room.
Penny saw no one that she knew. Crossing quickly to a counter at the far
side of the lobby, she spoke to a girl who was in charge.
"Can I buy a newspaper here?"
"Yes, we have them." The girl reached around a corner of the counter,
indicating a stack of papers which Penny had not seen. "New York Times?"
"That will do very nicely."
Penny paid for the paper and carrying it over to a chair, quickly looked
at the dateline.
"It's today's issue, all right," she told herself grimly. "This proves
what I suspected. Ralph Fergus has been buying up all the papers--a
little trick to annoy Mrs. Downey and get her in bad with her guests!"
CHAPTER
12
_THE GREEN CARD_
"Do you always talk to yourself?" inquired an amused voice from behind
Penny.
Glancing up from the newspaper, the girl saw Maxine Miller standing
beside her chair. For an instant she failed to recognize the actress, so
elegant did the woman appear in a sealskin coat and matching hat. The
outfit was so new that the fur had lost none of its glaze, an observation
which caused Penny to wonder if Miss Miller had misled her regarding the
state of her finances.
"Good evening, Miss Miller," she smiled. "I didn't know you for a
moment."
"How do you like it?" inquired the actress, turning slowly about.
"Your new fur coat? It's very beautiful. And you're looking well, too.
You didn't by chance get that role from David Balantine?"
Miss Miller's painted lips drew into a pout. "No, he left the hotel this
morning."
"Oh, that's too bad. I suppose you'll be going soon, then?"
The actress shook her head, and laughed in a mysterious way.
"No, I've decided to stay here for awhile. I like Pine Top."
Penny was puzzled by Miss Miller's sudden change in manner and
appearance. The woman acted as if she were the possessor of an important
secret which she longed to reveal.
"You must have fallen heiress to a vast fortune," Penny ventured lightly.
"Better than that," beamed Miss Miller. "I've acquired a new job. Take
dinner with me and I'll tell you all about it."
"Well--" Penny deliberated and said honestly, "I didn't bring very much
money with me, and I'm not dressed up."
Miss Miller brushed aside both objections as if they were of no
consequence.
"You'll be my guest, dearie. And your clothes don't matter."
She caught Penny's hand and pulled her to her feet. Her curiosity
aroused, the girl allowed herself to be escorted to the dining room.
Miss Miller walked ahead, strutting a bit as she brushed past the crowded
tables. Heads lifted and envious feminine eyes focused upon the actress'
stunning fur coat. Penny felt awkward and embarrassed, clomping along
behind in her big heavy ski boots.
The head waiter gave them a choice table near the orchestra. Miss Miller
threw back her coat, exposing a form-fitting black satin gown with a
brilliant blue stone pin at the neck line. She knew that she was creating
an impression and thoroughly enjoyed herself.
A waiter brought menu cards. The actress proceeded to order for both
herself and Penny. She selected the most expensive dishes offered,
stumbling over their long French names.
"How nice it is to have money again," she remarked languidly when the
waiter had gone. "Do you really like my new wardrobe, dearie?"
"Indeed, I do, Miss Miller. Your dress is very becoming, and the fur coat
is stunning. Isn't it new?"
"Exactly two days old."
"Then you must have acquired it since coming to Pine Top. I had no idea
such lovely skins could be bought anywhere near here."
"We're very close to the Canadian border, you know." Again the actress
flashed her mysterious smile. "But the duty is frightful unless one is
able to avoid it."
Penny gazed thoughtfully across the table at her companion.
"And do you know how to avoid it?" she asked as casually as she could
manage.
Miss Miller steered skilfully away from the subject.
"Oh, this coat was given to me. It didn't cost me a cent."
"And how does one go about acquiring a free coat? You've not become a
professional model?"
"No," the actress denied, "but your guess is fairly warm. I do have a
nice figure for displaying clothes. No doubt that was why I was given the
job."
"Who is your employer, Miss Miller? Someone connected with the hotel?"
The waiter had brought a loaded tray to the table, and the actress used
his arrival as a pretext for not answering Penny's question. After the
man went away she began to chat glibly about other subjects. However,
with the serving of dessert, she once more switched to the topic of her
wardrobe.
"You were asking me about my fur coat, dearie," she said. "Would you like
to have one like it?"
"Who wouldn't? What must I do to acquire one--rob a bank?"
Miss Miller laughed in a forced way. "You will have your little joke.
From what you've told me, I imagine your father has plenty of money."
"I don't remember saying anything about it," responded Penny dryly. "As a
matter of fact, my father isn't wealthy."
"At least your family is comfortably fixed or you wouldn't be at this
expensive winter resort," Miss Miller went on, undisturbed. "Now would
you be able to pay as much as a hundred dollars for a coat?"
"I hadn't even thought of buying one," replied Penny, trying not to
disclose her astonishment. "Can you really get a good fur coat for as
little as a hundred dollars?"
"You could through my friend."
"Your friend?" asked Penny bluntly. "Do you mean your new employer?"
"Well, yes," the actress admitted with a self-conscious laugh. "He is a
fur salesman. You've been very nice to me and I might be able to get a
coat for you at cost."
"That's most kind," remarked Penny dryly. "Where could I see these
coats?"
"My employer has a salesroom here at the hotel," Miss Miller declared. "I
can arrange an appointment for you. Say tomorrow at two?"
"I haven't enough money with me to buy a coat even if I wanted one."
"But if you liked the furs you could wire your parents for more," the
actress wheedled. "It is a wonderful opportunity. You'll never have
another chance to buy a beautiful coat at cost."
"I'll have to think it over," Penny returned. "I suppose you get a
commission on every garment sold?"
"A small one. In your case, I'll not take it. I truly am interested in
seeing you get your coat, dearie. You have just the figure for it, you're
so slim and svelte."
Penny was not deceived by the flattery. She knew very well that the
actress had treated her to dinner for the purpose of making her feel
under obligation and as a build-up to the suggestion that she purchase a
fur coat.
Glancing at the bill she was relieved to see that she had enough money to
pay for her share of the meal.
"No, no, I won't hear of it," Miss Miller protested grandly.
Summoning the waiter, she gave him a twenty dollar bill.
"Let me know if you decide you would like to see the coats," she said to
Penny as they left the dining room together. "It won't cost you anything
to look, you know."
"I'll think it over. Thanks for the dinner."
Penny looked about the crowded lobby for Ralph Fergus or Harvey Maxwell,
but neither man was to be seen. While at the hotel she would have liked
to acquire a little more information about the Green Room. With the
actress hovering at her elbow it was out of the question.
She considered speaking of the matter to Miss Miller, and then abandoned
the idea. However, it had occurred to her that the mysterious room of the
hotel might have some connection with the actress' present employment,
and so she ventured one rather direct question.
"Miss Miller, you're not by chance working for Ralph Fergus or the
hotel?"
"Dear me, no!" the actress denied. "Whatever put such an idea in your
head?"
"It just occurred to me. Well, good-bye."
Penny left the hotel and ventured out into the cold. After so much
cigarette smoke, the pure air was a pleasant relief. She broke off a long
icicle from the doorway, and stood thoughtfully chewing at it.
"Miss Miller must be working for some dishonest outfit," she mused. "Her
talk about getting a fur coat at cost doesn't fool me one bit. If I were
in her shoes I'd be more than a little worried lest I tangled with the
law."
A remark by the actress to the effect that the Canadian border was close
by had set Penny's active mind to working. It was not too fantastic to
believe that Miss Miller might be employed by an unscrupulous man whose
business concerned the sale of furs obtained duty free. She had even
dared hope that Ralph Fergus or Harvey Maxwell might be implicated in the
dishonest affair. What a break that would be for her father if only she
could prove such a connection! But the actress' outright denial that
either man was her employer had put an end to such pleasant speculation.
Penny bent down to pick up her skis which had been left at the side of
the hotel building. As she leaned over, she noticed a small object lying
on top of the snow in the square of light made from one of the windows.
It appeared to be a small piece of colored cardboard.
Curiously, Penny picked it up and carried it closer to the window. The
card was green. Her pulse quickened as she turned it over. On its face
were six engraved words:
"Admit Bearer Through The Green Door."
CHAPTER
13
_AN UNKIND TRICK_
Penny all but executed a clog dance in the snow. She knew that she had
picked up an admittance ticket to the Green Room of the Fergus hotel
which some person had lost. With no effort upon her part she would be
able to learn the answer to many of the questions which had plagued her.
"At last I'll find out what lies behind that Green Door," she thought in
high elation. "If this isn't the most wonderful piece of luck!"
Debating a moment, Penny decided that it probably was too late to gain
admittance that evening. Mrs. Downey no doubt was worried over her long
absence from the lodge. She would return there, and then revisit the
hotel early the next day.
Pocketing the precious ticket, Penny set off up the mountain. It was dark
before she had covered half the distance, but there were stars and a half
moon to guide her.
Mrs. Downey showed her relief as the girl stomped into the kitchen.
"I was beginning to worry, Penny," she declared. "Whatever made it take
you so long?"
"I stopped at the Fergus hotel and had dinner with Miss Miller."
"Were you able to get the newspapers?"
"Only one which I had to buy at the Fergus hotel. Mrs. Downey, it's queer
about those papers. Benny Smith told me there weren't any to be had, and
then a few minutes later I met the airplane pilot who told me he had
brought them in the same as usual. Also, the Fergus hotel received its
usual quota."
"Well, that's odd."
"It looks to me as if the Fergus outfit has made some arrangement with
the paper boy. They may be buying up all the papers."
"As a means of annoying me," nodded Mrs. Downey grimly. "It would be in
line with their tactics. But what can I do?"
"I don't know," admitted Penny. She pulled off her heavy boots and set
them where they would dry. "We haven't any proof they're doing anything
like that. It's only my idea."
The door opened and Jake came into the kitchen. He dropped an armload of
wood behind the range.
"I started work on the bob-sled run this afternoon," he remarked to Mrs.
Downey. "Got a crew of boys coming first thing tomorrow. We ought to have
her fixed up by noon."
"And the sleds?"
"They seem to be in good condition, but I'll check everything."
After the workman had gone, Penny glanced questioningly at Mrs. Downey.
"Have you decided to use the run after all?"
"Yes, I started thinking about it after we talked together. We do need
more entertainment here at the lodge. After you left I ordered Jake to
start work on the track. But I still am in need of experienced drivers
for the sled."
"You spoke of Sara."
"I thought I would ask her, but I doubt if her Grandfather will give his
consent."
"I'll ski down there tomorrow and talk with her if you would like me to,"
offered Penny.
"I would appreciate it," said Mrs. Downey gratefully. "I hate to spare
the time myself."
Early the next morning Penny paid a visit to the bob-sled run where a
crew headed by Jake was hard at work. There was a stretch of straightaway
and a series of curves which snaked down the valley between the pines. At
the point of the steepest curve, the outer snow walls rose to a height of
eighteen feet.
"A sled could really travel on that track," observed Penny. "Does it hurt
to upset?"
"It might," grinned Jake. "We've never had an upset on Horseshoe Curve.
If a sled went over there, you might wake up in the hospital."
Penny watched the men packing snow for awhile. Then buckling on her skis,
she made a fast trip down the mountain to the Jasko cabin. This time,
having a definite mission, she went boldly to the door and rapped.
There was no response until the window of the loft shot up.
"Hello, Penny," called down Sara. "I thought you had forgotten your
promise. The key's in the same place."
"Isn't your grandfather here?"
"No, he went down to Pine Top. Isn't it glorious skiing weather? Hurry
and get the key. I've been cooped up here half an hour already."
Penny went reluctantly to the woodshed and returned with the key. She
unfastened the trapdoor which gave entrance to the loft and Sara quickly
descended.
"Didn't your grandfather say anything about last time?" Penny inquired
anxiously.
"Oh, he raved because someone had trespassed. But it never occurred to
him I had gone away. Where shall we ski today?"
"I only stopped to deliver a message, Sara. I am on my way down to the
Fergus hotel."
"Oh," said the girl in disappointment. "A message from whom?"
"Mrs. Downey. She is starting up her bob-sled run again and she wants you
to help out."
Sara's eyes began to sparkle.
"I wish I could! If only Grandfather weren't so strict."
"Is there a chance he'll give his consent?"
"Oh, dear, no. But I might be able to slip away. Grandfather plans to
chop wood every day this week."
"I doubt if Mrs. Downey would want you to do that."
"Need you tell her?" queried Sara coolly. "I'll fix myself a rope ladder
and get out the window. That will save you the trouble of coming here to
let me in and out."
"And what will your grandfather say if he learns about it?"
"Plenty! But anything is better than being shut up like a prisoner. You
tell Mrs. Downey I'll try to get up to the lodge tomorrow morning, and
we'll try out the track together, eh Penny?"
"I don't know anything about bob-sledding."
"I'll teach you to be my brake boy," Sara laughed. "How long will you
stay at the Fergus hotel?"
"I haven't any idea."
"Then I suppose I'll have to crawl back into my cave," Sara sighed
dismally. "Can't you even ski with me for half an hour?"
"Not this morning," Penny said firmly. "I have important work ahead."
She shooed Sara back into the loft and returned the key to the woodshed.
The Jasko girl watched from the window, playfully shaking her fist as her
friend skied away.
"Sara is as stimulating as a mountain avalanche," chuckled Penny, "but
she's almost too headstrong. Sooner or later her stunts will involve me
in trouble with Peter Jasko."
In the valley below, smoke curled lazily from the chimneys of the Fergus
hotel. Making directly for it, Penny felt in her pocket to be certain she
had not lost the green ticket which she had found the previous evening.
"This is going to be my lucky day," she told herself cheerfully. "I feel
it in my bones."
Reaching the hotel, Penny stripped off her skis and entered the hotel
lobby. Maxine Miller was not in evidence nor did she see any other person
who likely would question her presence there. She did notice Harvey
Maxwell sitting in the private office. His eyes were upon her as she
crossed the room. However, Penny felt no uneasiness, realizing that if he
noticed her at all he recognized her only as a guest at the Downey lodge.
"Second floor," she said quietly to the elevator boy.
Penny was the sole passenger, but as she stepped from the cage, she was
dismayed to run directly into Francine Sellberg.
The reporter greeted her with a suspicious stare.
"Why, hello, Penny Parker. What are you doing here?"
"Oh, just moseying around."
"I can see you are!"
"Your room isn't on this floor, is it?" Penny inquired.
"No, on the fourth," Francine answered before she considered her words.
"Looking for someone?" remarked Penny with a grin. "Or should I say
_something_?"
An elevator stopped at the landing. "Going down," the attendant called,
opening the door. He gazed questioningly at the two girls.
Francine shook her head, although she had been waiting for an elevator.
Turning again to Penny she said with a hard smile: "I've not only been
looking for something, I've found it!"
"Still, I don't see you rushing to reach a telephone, Francine. Your
discovery can't have such tremendous news value."
"It may have before long," hinted Francine. "I don't mind telling you I
am on the trail of a really big story. And I am making steady progress in
assembling my facts."
Penny regarded the girl reporter speculatively. Her presence on the
second floor rather suggested that she, too, had been trying to
investigate the Green Room, and more than likely had learned its
location. But she was reasonably certain Francine had gathered no
information of great value.
"Glad to hear you're doing so well," she remarked and started on down the
hall.
Francine fell into step with her. "If you're looking for a particular
room, Penny, maybe I can help you."
Penny knew that the reporter meant to stay with her so that she could do
no investigation work of her own.
"The room I am searching for has a green door," she replied.
Francine laughed. "I'm glad you're so honest, Penny. I guessed why you
were on this floor all the time. However, I greatly fear you're in the
wrong part of the hotel."
Penny paused and turned to face her companion squarely. "Why not put an
end to all this nonsense, Francine? We watch each other and get nowhere.
Let's put our cards on the table."
"Yours might be a joker!"
"We're both interested in getting a story which will discredit Harvey
Maxwell," Penny went on, ignoring the jibe. "You've had a tip as to what
may be going on here, while I'm working in the dark. On the other hand,
I've acquired something which should interest you. Why don't we pool our
interests and work together?"
"That would be very nice--for you."
"I think I might contribute something to the case."
"I doubt it," replied Francine loftily. "You don't even know the location
of the Green Room."
"You're wrong about that. It took no great detective power to learn it's
on this floor. To get inside may be a different matter."
"You're quite right there," said Francine with emphasis.
"What do you say? Shall we work together and let bygones be bygones?"
"Thank you, Penny, I prefer to work alone."
"Suit yourself, Francine. I was only trying to be generous. You see, I
have an admittance card to the Green Room."
"I don't believe it!"
Flashing a gay smile, Penny held up the ticket for Francine to see.
"How did you get it?" the reporter gasped. "I've tried--"
"A little bird dropped it on my window sill. Too bad you didn't decide to
work with me."
Penny walked on down the corridor, and Francine made no attempt to
follow. When she glanced back over her shoulder the reporter had
descended the stairway to the lobby.
"It was boastful of me to show her my ticket," she thought. "But I
couldn't resist doing it. Francine is so conceited."
Making her way to the unmarked door of the wing, Penny paused there a
moment, listening. Hearing no sound she pushed open the door and went
down the narrow hall. The guard sat at his usual post before the Green
Door.
"Good morning," said Penny pleasantly. "I have my card now."
The man examined it and handed it back. "Go right in," he told her.
Before Penny could obey, the door at the end of the corridor swung open.
Harvey Maxwell, his face convulsed with rage, came hurrying toward the
startled girl.
"I've just learned who you are," he said angrily. "Kindly leave this
hotel at once, and don't come back!"
CHAPTER
14
_A BROKEN ROD_
"You must have mistaken me for some other person," Penny stammered,
backing a step away from the hotel man. "Who do you think I am?"
The question was a mistake, for it only served to intensify Harvey
Maxwell's anger.
"You're the daughter of Anthony Parker who runs the yellowest paper in
Riverview! I know why he sent you here. Now get out and don't let me
catch you in the hotel ever again."
Observing the green card in Penny's hand he reached out and jerked it
from her.
"I wasn't doing any harm," she said, trying to act injured. "My father
didn't send me to Pine Top. I came for the skiing."
Secretly, Penny was angry at Maxwell's reference to the _Riverview Star_
as being a "yellow" sheet, which in newspaper jargon meant that it was a
sensation-seeking newspaper.
"And what are you doing in this part of the hotel?"
"I only wanted to see the Green Room," Penny replied. "I thought I would
have my breakfast here."
Harvey Maxwell and the doorman exchanged a quick glance which was not
lost upon the girl.
"Where did you get your ticket?" the hotel man demanded but in a less
harsh voice.
"I picked it up outside the hotel."
Penny spoke truthfully and her words carried conviction. Harvey Maxwell
seemed satisfied that she had not been investigating the wing for any
special purpose. However, he took her by an elbow and steered her down
the corridor to the elevator.
"If you're the smart little girl I think you are, a hint will be
sufficient," he said. "I don't want any member of the Parker family on my
premises. So stay away. Get me?"
"Yes, sir," responded Penny meekly.
Inwardly, she was raging. Someone deliberately had betrayed her to Harvey
Maxwell and she had a very good idea who that person might be. From now
on employes of the hotel would be told to keep watch for her. Never again
would she be allowed in the lobby, much less in the vicinity of the Green
Room.
Harvey Maxwell walked with Penny to the front door of the hotel and
closed it behind her.
"Remember," he warned, "stay away."
As Penny started down the walk she heard a silvery laugh, and glancing
sideways, saw Francine leaning against the building.
"You didn't spend much time in the Green Room, did you?" she inquired.
"That was a dirty trick to play!" retorted Penny. "I wouldn't have done
it to you."
"You couldn't have thought that fast, my dear Penny."
"I might tell Mr. Maxwell you're a reporter for the _Riverview Record_.
How would you like that?"
Francine shrugged. "In that case we both lose the story. All I want is an
exclusive. After the yarn breaks in the _Record_, your father will be
welcome to make use of any information published. So if you really want
him to win his libel suit, you'll gain by not interfering with me."
"You reason in a very strange way," replied Penny coldly.
Picking up her skis she shouldered them and marched stiffly away. She was
angry at Francine and angry at herself for having given the rival
reporter an opportunity to score against her. Probably she would never
tell Harvey Maxwell or Ralph Fergus who the girl actually was, sorely as
she might be tempted. As Francine had pointed out, her own chance of
gleaning any worth while information had been lost.
"It's a bitter pill to choke down," thought Penny, "but I would rather
have the _Record_ get the story than to lose it altogether."
Sunk deep in depression, she tramped back to the Downey lodge. The mail
had arrived during her absence but there was no letter from home.
"Dad might at least send me a postcard," she grumbled. "For two cents I
would take the next plane back to Riverview."
However, Penny could not remain downhearted for any great length of time.
Why worry about Francine and the silly old Green Room? She would forget
all about it and try to have fun for a change.
It was not difficult to dismiss the matter from her mind, for the
following morning Sara Jasko came to give her a lesson in bob-sled
driving. With a crowd of interested guests watching from the sidelines,
they made their first exciting ride over the track. Sara steered, Jake
operated the brake, and Penny rode as sole passenger.
Horseshoe Curve was the most thrilling point on the course. As the sled
tore around it at a tremendous rate of speed, Jake dug in the iron claw
of the brake, sending up a plume of snow. They slackened speed
perceptibly, but even so the sled climbed high on the sloping wall, and
Penny thought for an anxious moment that they were going over the top.
The remainder of the run was mild by comparison.
Upon later trips Penny was allowed to manage the brake, and soon became
dexterous in applying it as Sara shouted the command.
Skiers abandoned the slopes to watch the new sport. Two at a time, Penny
and Sara gave them rides and all of their passengers were enthusiastic.
By the following day the word had spread down the mountain that Mrs.
Downey's bob-sled run was operating. Guests from the Fergus hotel joined
the throng but they were given rides only when there were no passengers
waiting.
"It's going over like a house afire!" Penny declared gaily to Mrs.
Downey. "I shouldn't be surprised if you take some of the Fergus hotel's
customers away from them if this enthusiasm lasts."
"You and Sara are showing folks a wonderful time."
"And we're having one ourselves. It's even more fun than skiing."
"But more dangerous," declared Mrs. Downey. "I hope we have no
accidents."
"Sara is a skillful driver."
"Yes, she is," agreed Mrs. Downey. "There's no cause for worry so long as
the track isn't icy."
Two days passed during which Penny did not even go near the Fergus hotel
or to the village. As she remarked to Mrs. Downey, all of Pine Top came
to the lodge. During the morning hours when the bob-sled run was in
operation, a long line of passengers stood waiting. Guests from the
Fergus hotel had few chances for rides. Several of them, wishing to be on
the favored list, checked out and came to take lodging at Mrs. Downey's
place.
"I can't understand it," the woman declared to Penny. "Last year the run
wasn't very popular. I think it may have been because we had a little
accident at the beginning of the season. Nothing serious but it served to
frighten folks."
"I wonder how the Fergus-Maxwell interests are enjoying it?" chuckled
Penny.
"Not very well, you may be sure. This flurry in our business will rather
worry them. They may not put me out of business as quickly as they
expected."
"At least you'll end your season in a blaze of glory," laughed Penny.
The weather had turned warmer. Late Thursday afternoon the snow melted a
bit and the lowering night temperatures caused a film of ice to form over
the entire length of the bob-sled run. Jake shook his head as he talked
over the situation with Penny the next morning.
"The track will be fast and slippery this morning."
"A lot of folks will be disappointed if we don't make any trips,"
declared Penny. "Here comes Sara. Let's see what she has to say."
Sara studied the run, and walked down as far as Horseshoe Curve.
"It's fast all right," she conceded. "But that will only make it the more
exciting. Brakes in good order, Jake?"
"I tested every sled last night after they were brought to the shop."
"Then we'll have no trouble," said Sara confidently. "Round up the
passengers, Jake, and we'll start at once."
The sled was hauled to the starting line. Sara took her place behind the
wheel, with Penny riding the end position to handle the brake. Their
first passengers were to be a middle aged married couple. Sara gave them
padded helmets to wear.
"What are these for?" the woman asked nervously. "The toboggan slide
isn't dangerous, is it?"
"No, certainly not," answered Sara. "We haven't had a spill this year.
Hang tight on the curves. Give me plenty of brake when I call for it,
Penny."
She signaled for the push off. They started fast and gathered speed on
the straightaway. Penny wondered how Sara could steer for her own eyes
blurred as they shot down the icy trough. They never had traveled at such
high speed before.
"Brakes!" shouted Sara.
Penny obeyed the order, and felt the sled slow down as the brake claw dug
into the snow and ice. They raced on toward the first wide curve, and
swung around it, high on the banked wall, too close to the outside edge
for comfort.
"Brakes!" called Sara again.
Once more the iron claw dug in, sending up a spray of snow behind the
racing sled. And then there came a strange, pinging sound.
For the briefest instant Penny did not comprehend its significance. Then,
as the sled leaped ahead faster than ever and the geyser of snow
vanished, she realized what had happened. The brakes were useless! A rod
had snapped! They were roaring down the track with undiminished speed,
and Horseshoe Curve, the most dangerous point on the run, lay directly
ahead.
CHAPTER
15
_IN THE TOOL HOUSE_
Sara, her face white and tense, turned her head for a fraction of a
second and then, crouching lower, kept her eyes glued on the track. She
knew what had happened, and she knew, too, that they never could hope to
make the Horseshoe Curve. Even a miracle of steering would not save them
from going over the wall of ice at terrific speed.
The two passengers, frozen with fright, gripped the side ropes, and kept
their heads down. It did not even occur to them that they could save
themselves by rolling off. For that matter, they did not realize that the
brake had broken.
Penny, in end position, could have jumped easily, A fall into the soft
snow beside the track would be far less apt to cause serious injury than
an upset from the high wall of the curve. But it never occurred to her to
try to save herself.
There was only one slim chance of preventing a bad accident, a costly one
for herself, and Penny took it. As the perpendicular wall of Horseshoe
Curve loomed up ahead, she wrapped her arm about the side rope of the
sled and hurled herself off. Her entire body was given a violent jerk. A
sharp pain shot through her right arm, but she gritted her teeth and held
on.
Penny's trailing body, acting as a brake, slowed down the sled and kept
it from upsetting as it swept into the curve. Sideways it climbed the
wall of snow. It crept to the very edge, hovered there a breathless
moment, then fell back to overturn at the flat side of the curve.
Untangling herself from a pile of arms and legs, Sara began to help her
passengers to their feet.
"Penny, are you hurt?" she asked anxiously. "That was a courageous thing
to do! You saved us from a bad accident."
Spectators, thrilled by the display of heroism, came running to the
scene. Penny, every muscle screaming with pain, rolled over in the snow.
Gripping her wrenched arm, she tried to get to her feet and could not.
"Penny, you _are_ hurt!" cried Sara.
"It's my arm, more than anything else," Penny said, trying to keep her
face from twisting. "I--I hope it's not broken."
Willing hands raised her to her feet and supported her. Penny was
relieved to discover that she could lift her injured arm.
"It's only wrenched," she murmured. "Anyone else hurt, Sara?"
"You're the only casualty," Sara replied warmly. "But if you hadn't used
yourself as a brake we might all have been badly injured. You ought to
get a hot bath as quickly as you can before your muscles begin to
stiffen."
"They've begun already," replied Penny ruefully.
She took a step as if to start for the lodge, only to hesitate.
"I wonder what happened to the brake? I heard something give way."