PHILIP TRAPS A THIEF
Peter Wyland knew that Penny would be coming down the back way when she
was ready, instead of down the stairs from the balcony. When he was in
his costume he waited at the foot of the back stairs. The large room at
the bottom of the steps was dimly lit.
Presently Penny, a sweet vision, appeared at the top of the steps.
She gathered her draperies for the descent, unconscious of anyone’s
presence. The veil, which Marjorie had persuaded her to wear, floated
behind her, caught back from her face by pins and a white rose.
When she was halfway down, Peter stepped into the light. “Penny,” he
said in a low voice, “you look lovely. I should have been waiting here
with a minister!”
Peter was beside the surprised Penny in a moment, leading her down the
few remaining steps to the room where he tenderly put his arms around
her and kissed her. “I can’t wait any longer, Penny, to tell you how I
love you!” Peter’s voice was a little nervous. What he had intended to
say deserted him. “Will you--will you wear a dress like this for me,
soon?”
Penny, who had not had a chance to utter a word, and whose breath was
taken away by the surprise of having Peter kiss her, merely said,
“Oh,--why, Peter,” as he led her to a little sofa in the corner of the
room.
“Sit here with me just a minute, Penny. I’ve been waiting to ask you
for so long, only I’ve never known whether you were just being kind
and sweet to me because you’re that way with everyone, or whether you
could like me well enough to marry me. I saw that there was Charles
Curtis--but if you were engaged to him, I figured Phil would tip me
off. I am sort of a coward where you are concerned, Penny. Don’t tell
me that you like Charley best! Do you love me a little?”
Peter’s voice was low and eager. He held one of Penny’s hands tightly
in his.
Penny was not the sort to keep the man she loved in a state of
uncertainty. “Did you know you’ve loved me all summer, Peter? I wish
you’d told me sooner, because you see, I’ve been in love with you,
too.” It was all right at last. “I knew last year that I loved you
Peter, but I couldn’t very well let you know it!” Penny’s hand was
almost crushed as Peter’s face lit up with joy. He swept her into his
arms again for another kiss, and Penny said, “I could stay here and
forget all about my duties to my guests, but we mustn’t forget about
Mr. X. And I’ll have to go upstairs again, Peter. See how you have
mussed this veil.”
“Not beyond repair, I hope,” he said, smiling. “Penny, before you go,
say you’ll marry me this fall, as soon as the guests leave?”
“Silly man! You take my breath away,” Penny laughed. “But it is
wonderful that you are silly about me, Peter. I can’t think straight
right this minute, but we’ll talk about it later. Marjorie and Jimmy
are going to school in September. Phil is going to New York to work
for Mr. Prentice and to go to school nights. He wants to be near
Adra. Mercy--I’m all mixed up. There will be so much to see to. Could
you--could we have our honeymoon right here?”
“I can’t think of a more wonderful spot,” Peter said. “Our life is
going to be all honeymoon from now on. As long as I know we love each
other that’s enough to make me walk on air the rest of the evening.
What a pity we can’t be by ourselves. I’ll be thinking of you every
single minute, darling.”
Peter waited until Penny went back to her room to repair damages. It
took her but a few minutes and when she made her appearance in the
living room, she was immediately surrounded and admired by everyone.
With the keen eye of an experienced hostess, she glanced around to see
that everyone was being entertained in some fashion. She recognized
most of the guests regardless of their masks, and she noted that there
was quite an assembly of townspeople whom she could not recognize
because of their disguises. Mr. and Mrs. Curtis were dressed as George
and Martha Washington and they looked very distinguished. They were
talking to Marjorie just now and saying something that made her laugh.
There was Charles Curtis dancing with a lovely girl who had spent
several weekends at the Lodge and had come back for the masquerade.
When he danced by Penny he stopped for a minute and said, “I’ll wager
that this is our fair hostess. Shall I telephone the parson? It’s hard
to resist such a bride!”
“You are incorrigible, Charles,” Penny reported.
“And you look radiant tonight, Penny.” And off he danced with his
partner. It was hard for Penny to get her mind on anything else except
Peter. Dear, eager, wonderful Peter. But she had many things to do. The
tables in the dining room had to be checked, and then she had to return
and take part in the party. She looked around at the guests once more
trying to place some of those who did not look familiar. There was one
masquerader in particular who caught her eye. He was dressed as the
bearded ghost that was supposed to wander about the Lodge, but aside
from the long beard and white wig he seemed to be quite young, vigorous
and active. He was too heavy for Alf who had once said something about
dressing up as a graybeard. He was with Adra a good deal of the time
but mingled with the rest and danced well.
All the guests had arrived and the party was in full swing. It was
nearly time for Philip to announce that he was going to show everybody
the secret room. Peter came into the room just a few minutes before
this and slipping an arm around Penny, he said, “Congratulate me, Phil,
I’m going to be your brother-in-law.”
Philip stared a moment, then put a hand on Peter’s shoulder and told
him there was no one to whom he’d rather hand over Penny. “Good work,
Peter,” he said. “Congratulations. Even if she is my sister, I must say
you’re getting a wonderful girl.”
“Nobody knows that better than I,” Peter said humbly.
“Stop it, you two,” Penny cried. “I’ll get a head too big for my
shoulders if you keep it up. By the way, do either of you recognize
that man over there disguised as Graybeard?”
“I think that’s Mr. Sanders. He said something about wearing such a
costume when Alf gave up the idea,” said Peter.
“No, it isn’t Mr. Sanders,” Penny said. “But there’s something very
familiar about him. I’m sure I know him but I can’t quite put my finger
on who he is.”
“Has he done anything suspicious?” Phil asked.
“Not a thing,” Penny admitted. Then she laughed. “But he has been
paying quite a lot of attention to Adra. You’d better watch out, Phil.”
Phil frowned. “I’ll be glad when this evening is over. I’ve hardly had
a chance to speak to Adra since breakfast. And--and, well I guess you
two know how I feel about her.”
“We do,” Penny told him, smiling. “But the question is, does she?” She
gave him a fond pat on the cheek. “Faint heart never won fair lady,
Phil.”
“That’s right,” Peter said, grinning. “Once you get used to the idea,
Phil, proposing to the girl you love isn’t so difficult.”
“I suppose not,” Phil said dubiously, “but if I rush matters I might
ruin my chances with Adra.”
Marjorie joined them then. “Nobody’s done anything suspicious at all,”
she complained. “The whole scheme is a flop.”
“The evening isn’t over yet,” Penny reminded her. She tucked her hand
in the crook of Peter’s arm, blushing. “We’re going to announce our
engagement at the banquet. And if Phil takes my advice, he’ll propose
to Adra before the party is over.” She smiled at Marjorie. “Isn’t that
enough excitement for you?”
“Oh, oh,” Marjorie cried, hugging Penny. “I’m so glad. Wait until I
tell Judy.” She was off, completely forgetting to congratulate the
bridegroom-to-be.
A short while after that Penny went upstairs with Adra and told her
that she and Peter were engaged.
“I’m so happy for you both,” Adra said, rather wistfully.
Penny said nothing, but she guessed that when Phil did propose, the
answer would be yes. She hurried downstairs again for, from the
balcony, she could see that the guests were already crowding into the
alcove.
Most of the younger men, as Marjorie had predicted, were dressed as
cowboys, complete with bandannas, chaps and guns in their holsters.
Penny had not been able to pick out Brook and Alf, but she knew that
Jimmy was the tallest cowboy of them all.
He was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. “Everybody’s
all set,” he told her. “Pat’s pressing the button that moves the
bookshelves now.” When Adra came down from the balcony he added, “Let’s
wait out here. It’ll only add to the confusion if we, who have already
seen the secret room, join the crowd in the alcove.”
“All right,” Adra said, sitting on the bottom step. “I’m exhausted. Mr.
Graybeard is a wonderful dancer, but he never wants to stop for a rest.”
“Who is that guy anyway?” Jimmy asked. “He looks familiar, but I can’t
place him.”
“Neither can I,” Penny said. “But then I can’t place a lot of the
people here.” She pointed to two cowboys who were standing just outside
the alcove. “For instance, are those two guests Alf and Brook? I
wouldn’t know.”
And then Penny saw something that made her turn and race up the stairs.
The guns that those two cowboys were slipping from their holsters were
not toy pistols. Even at that distance she could see that they were
small, but deadly-looking automatics.
In the meantime, Philip, in the alcove, was making his little speech to
the assembled guests.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said and waited a moment for attention.
“There is one little feature of Allen Lodge that has not been on
exhibit, a place we call the secret room.” Philip paused again, for
effect this time, and a murmur of interest ran around the room.
“When we first moved into this Lodge we found it accidentally and
we decided to surprise you with it tonight. This room has a curious
entrance and when I open the door you will see the little wall safe
that has held your money and jewelry. We are sorry to say there is no
other treasure down there. Believe me, when we heard of the rumors
about buried treasure, we turned the place upside down to see if we
could find it, without success.”
Philip deliberately assumed a very disappointed look on his face and
the guests all laughed. Then he went on, “But maybe the Allens didn’t
look in the right places, and possibly Mr. Graybeard, the ghost I see
here tonight, may find some treasure for us. Masks and costumes are
appropriate to our mysterious visit to a mysterious room. Look for
treasure! We will have to go down in groups since it is a small room.
The people immediately surrounding me can come down first and perhaps
Mr. Graybeard will lend atmosphere by posing near the safe.”
“I’d be delighted,” Mr. Graybeard said.
Philip glanced at him, thinking: “His voice is familiar, but I’m sure
he isn’t any of the merchants in the village we deal with.” Aloud he
continued his speech:
“When we come back up from the secret room we’ll unmask and go into
the big dining room for the banquet. I hope you have all been keeping
a list of the people whom you think you have recognized. As you know,
we’re going to gather up your lists as you enter the dining room.
During the banquet, prizes will be awarded to the guests who have
guessed the largest number of people correctly.”
After the applause that followed Philip’s speech, Pat pressed the
button that moved the bookshelves aside. From then on Philip was kept
busy leading one little party after another down into the secret room.
Mr. Graybeard went with the first group and added to the ghostly
atmosphere by posing near the safe. Behind him the paper skeleton
dangled precariously from the ceiling.
When the last guest had inspected the little room and had gone back up
the stairs to the alcove, Philip said to Graybeard, “Thanks for helping
us out. You make a swell ghost. Who are you anyway?”
“Never mind,” said a cold, crisp voice. “Turn around and come down the
steps with your hands up.”
With one swift gesture, Philip released the spring that closed the
secret door. Then he turned to face the gun Graybeard was pointing at
him.
Philip was caught in his own trap, but at least the man and his pistol
could neither harm nor frighten the people on the other side of the
door.
Philip came slowly down the steps. “So you’re our mysterious Mr. X,” he
said coolly.
“Call me anything you like,” Graybeard said, taking Philip’s own pistol
from his pocket. “Now open that safe.”
Philip shrugged. “Anything to oblige.” he said.
“And don’t try to pull any tricks,” Graybeard warned him. “Upstairs,
two men I hired for the occasion are at this very moment relieving your
guests of their excess jewelry and cash.”
So it was a planned robbery! And Graybeard’s henchmen had probably come
disguised as cowboys, carrying real pistols in their holsters!
For a moment, Phil was paralyzed with worry about the girls. Penny and
Marjorie were so impulsive! Would they submit quietly to a holdup? And
Adra?
He felt sure that the older women, although they would be frightened
at the sight of guns, would do nothing which might arouse the anger of
armed criminals. But the girls!
The voice behind the mask repeated menacingly, “_Open that safe!_”
Philip quickly obeyed. There was nothing else to do. Peter had been
right all along: They should have called on the police for help.
Philip twirled the dial and opened the door of the safe. “Help
yourself,” he said curtly.
“I am very much engaged in watching you,” replied the man. Philip had
no choice. He emptied the safe and handed its contents to the masked
burglar.
There was a good sum of money, the payments of the guests for the
week. It was mostly in checks and a great deal of the jewelry had
been removed from the safe for the occasion. Philip was thanking his
lucky stars that they didn’t keep too much cash, valuable articles or
important papers. Philip tried to get a good look at the man’s face
under his beard, but it and the mask over his nose and eyes completely
hid his features.
Could this really be the mysterious Mr. X? No, Philip decided.
Graybeard was nothing but a common ordinary burglar. And yet there was
something familiar about him.
The man tucked the money into his pocket, then looked contemptuously at
the bit of jewelry but put it into another pocket. Philip listened to
hurrying footsteps overhead and could see that Graybeard was perturbed
by them. But there was no catching this man off guard. He held the gun
close to Philip every minute. He again ordered Philip to put his hands
into the air, while he felt around the inside of the safe. Philip could
not help but think what a curious picture this man with his long gray
beard made, as he searched through the empty safe with one hand and
kept his pistol pointed at Philip with the other. What on earth was he
searching for?
Then Philip heard a little click, and suddenly a drawer on two little
steel rods dropped down from inside the top of the safe.
“Missed that part of it, didn’t you?” Graybeard sneered. “Empty that
drawer and hand me the stuff.”
Philip was so surprised he stood there with his mouth open for a full
minute, then with great interest he looked at this drawer that he
had never seen before. It was wide and shallow and full of papers.
Evidently a little hidden spring had released the rods that held the
drawer in place. Could this be the place where the rumored treasure was
supposed to be hidden? Philip mentally kicked himself for not having
thought of such a possibility before. Much good it would do them now.
Idiot that he had been not to have taken ordinary precautions that
night. What fools they had all been not to follow Peter’s advice!
No wonder Mr. X Graybeard had planted red herrings guaranteed to keep
Jimmy and Marjorie searching everywhere for hidden treasure except in
their own safe.
“Quit stalling,” Graybeard growled, poking Philip with his gun. “Come
on, hand over that stuff and make it snappy. The boys upstairs must be
about ready to go.”
Philip took from the drawer two packages of old papers that looked like
receipted bills, and a large, bulging Manila envelope. This Graybeard
snatched from Phil’s hand and pocketed it with a satisfied air. He
glanced at the old papers and said, “You can throw those away. What
I want is bound to be in this envelope.” He went on in a patronizing
voice, “Thanks, sonny boy. If you hadn’t played right into my hands,
I might have had to use some ‘soup’ to blow the lock off that safe.
Messy stuff, ‘soup,’ and noisy. When I heard you were going to throw
this ball and show your guests the secret room, I decided to let one
of you dopey Allens open it for me.” He patted the pocket into which
he had stuffed the old Manila envelope. “What I have here is much more
valuable than all the money and jewels the men I hired have taken from
your guests. They can keep whatever they collected as their pay.”
“Just what is in that old envelope?” Phil asked, stalling for time. The
man, in the boasting, triumphant mood he was now in, might be caught
momentarily off guard.
Graybeard chuckled evilly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I certainly would,” Philip said and added shrewdly, “I should think
you’d like to _know_ too. After all, it may be stuffed with nothing but
more old receipted bills.”
The man, struck by this thought, glared at Philip through his mask.
“Never thought of that,” he muttered and hastily shifted the gun from
his right hand to his left so he could reach into his pocket and open
the envelope.
In that split second, Philip went into action. Before Graybeard knew
what was happening the pistol had been knocked from his hand. At the
same moment, Philip’s fist crashed against his jaw. Graybeard went limp
and toppled to the floor.
Phil leaped over his unconscious body to retrieve the gun. Then he took
his own pistol from Graybeard’s pocket.
“Now the tables are nicely turned,” Phil chuckled. He quickly tore
strips from the black draperies on the wall and tied the man’s hands
and feet together. He worked fast because he was worried about what
was going on upstairs.
Then he heard sounds on the other side of the door at the top of the
steps. Phil held his pistol ready. One of the gunmen, worried by the
prolonged absence of Graybeard, might be coming down to see what was
happening in the secret room.
The door swung open, and, to Phil’s relief, Pat leaped down the stairs.
Phil met him halfway. “What happened?” he asked nervously. “The
girls--are they all right?”
“Everybody’s just fine,” Pat said, grinning. “I’ll tell you all about
it later. Let’s see what you have here first.”
He bent down and yanked the beard and mask from the unconscious man’s
face.
“Whew!” Pat and Phil whistled in one breath. “Our nice cheap laundry
man!”
For it was Mr. Taggart, and, as he regained consciousness, glaring with
rage up at Phil, his face was anything but pleasant.