Penny set the table and dished up the dry breakfast cereal.
"At least we have beautiful scenery," she remarked as she sat down to the
dismal repast with her father. "Just look at those grand old trees."
"The place is all right. It's camping that has me tied in a knot. Now at
the Crystal Inn we could be comfortable--right on the beach too."
"No," Penny said, though not very firmly. "We'll like it here after we
get adjusted."
"Need any supplies today?" Mr. Parker asked abruptly.
"Yes, we'll have to have fresh meat and milk. I forgot salt too and
bread."
"I'll drive down to Sunset Beach and get the things. May as well take the
stove along too and try to have it repaired."
"That might be a good idea," Penny admitted, though with reluctance.
"Don't be gone long, will you? I thought we might explore some of the
trails."
"Oh, there's plenty of time for that."
Mr. Parker was noticeably cheerful as he stowed the portable stove in the
car and drove away. Not without misgiving Penny watched him go. She
remained somewhat troubled as she washed the breakfast dishes at the
brook and struggled with the beds. The camping trip hadn't worked out as
she had hoped and expected. So far it had been all work and no fun.
"Dad was up to something when he skipped out of here so fast," she mused.
"Wonder why he doesn't come back?"
The sun rose high above the trees, drying the grass and tent. Penny went
for a short hike in the woods. She returned to find that her father still
had not returned.
Just then a car rattled up the twisting road. Recognizing the same ranger
who had caused so much trouble the previous night, Penny prepared herself
for further blows. However, the government man was all smiles as he
pulled up not far from the umbrella tent.
"Just dropped by to see if you're getting along all right," he greeted
her in a friendly way. "Everything Okay?"
"I wouldn't venture such a rash statement as that," Penny answered, her
face downcast.
Because the ranger, whose name was Bill Atkins, seemed to have a genuine
interest, she found herself telling him all about her troubles.
"Why, you've not had a decent meal since you came here!" he exclaimed,
climbing out of the car. "Maybe I can help you."
"Can you wave a magic wand and produce hot food?"
"We'll see," laughed the ranger. "Gasoline stoves are more bother than
they're worth in my opinion."
As Penny watched in amazed admiration he built a good fire which soon
made a bed of glowing cherry red coals.
"How about a nice pan of fish fried to a crisp brown?" the ranger tempted
her. "I caught a string of them this morning. Beauties!"
From the car he brought a basket of fat trout, already dressed and ready
for cooking. Without asking Penny for anything, he wrapped them in corn
meal, salted each fish and let it sizzle in hot butter.
"Do you always travel with your car equipped like a kitchen cabinet?"
Penny joked. Crouching beside the fire, she barely could take her eyes
from the food.
"Not always," the ranger laughed. "I've been on an overnight trip.
Usually have the fixings of a meal with me though."
While the fish slowly sizzled, Bill put on a pot of coffee and fried
potatoes. He accomplished everything with such ease that Penny could only
watch dumbfounded.
"Guess you and your father considered me an old crab last night," he
remarked. "Sometimes we hate to enforce the rules, but we have to treat
everyone alike. If we allowed folks to camp wherever they pleased the
danger of forest fire would be greatly increased."
"You're right, of course. Have you had any fires this season?"
"Not here." Deftly the ranger dished up the potatoes and crisply browned
fish. "Plenty of them farther South. Not all caused by carelessness of
campers either."
Penny was quick to seize upon the remark. "Sabotage?" she questioned.
"That's what we think," the ranger nodded. He poured two cups of
steaming, black coffee. "Fact is, enemy agents have made quite a few
attempts to set fire to our forests. Nearly always they're caught, but
that doesn't mean we dare let up our vigilance."
Penny ate every morsel of the food, praising the ranger highly for his
cooking ability.
"I wish Dad could have had some of this fish," she added. "He went down
to Sunset Beach for supplies and for some reason hasn't returned."
"I'll have to be on the road myself," the ranger declared, getting up
from the ground. "I'm due in town at twelve o'clock and it's nearly that
now."
"You're driving to Sunset Beach?"
"Yes, want to ride along?"
Penny debated briefly. "Wait until I get my coat," she requested. "It's
lonesome here alone. Anyway, I want to learn what's keeping Dad."
The park road had dried considerably, but even so the car skidded from
side to side until it reached the paved highway. At Sunset Beach, the
ranger dropped Penny off at the postoffice. Rather at a loss to know what
to do with herself, she wandered about the half-deserted streets in
search of her father. He was not at any of the stores, nor did inquiry
reveal his whereabouts.
"Perhaps he's sunning himself on the beach," she thought.
A boardwalk led over the dunes to the water front. The tide was at ebb,
revealing a long, wide stretch of white sand strewn with shells and
seaweed. Penny paused to gaze meditatively upon the wind-swept sea. For a
time she watched the waves break and spill their foam on the sandy shore.
Then she walked slowly on toward the imposing Crystal Inn.
Approaching the private beach area, Penny met only a few persons, mostly
soldiers on furlough with their girls. There were no bathers for a sharp,
cool wind blew off the water.
"Sunset Beach is nice," thought Penny, "but it's lonesome."
At the Crystal Inn there was more activity. Tennis courts were in use and
so was the swimming pool. Penny circled the well-kept grounds, not
intending to enter the building. However, as she drew near, her attention
was drawn to the flagstone terrace overlooking the formal garden. Though
it was set with tables there were not many diners.
Suddenly Penny stopped short, scarcely believing her eyes. At one of the
tables near the stone railing sat her father with Mrs. Deline.
CHAPTER
7
_THE BEARDED STRANGER_
Penny's first thought upon seeing her father and Mrs. Deline was to steal
quietly away. Then amazement and injury gave way to a feeling of
indignation. Perhaps her father had a perfect right to lunch with Mrs.
Deline, but it was inconsiderate of him to so completely forget his own
daughter.
"I might just as well be an orphan!" Penny sighed. "Well, we'll see!"
Stiffly she marched across the lawn to the railed-in hotel veranda. Her
father saw her coming. His look of surprise changed to one of guarded
welcome.
"Come up and have lunch with us," he invited. "The food here is quite an
improvement on what we've been having at camp."
Penny could find no outside entranceway to the terrace. To Mrs. Deline's
horror and her father's amusement, she climbed over the stone railing.
"Dad," Penny began, ignoring the widow except for a curt nod, "I was just
about ready to get out a search warrant for you."
Mr. Parker drew another chair to the table for his daughter. Her hair was
none too well combed, she wore no stockings, and the coat did not
entirely cover her camp costume. By contrast Mrs. Deline was perfectly
turned out in tailored tweed suit with a smart little hat of feathers.
Though the woman said nothing, her gaze was scornful as she appraised
Penny.
"What shall I order for you?" Mr. Parker asked, signaling a waiter.
"Nothing, thank you." Penny was coldly polite. "I had a very fine lunch
at camp, thanks to one of the rangers."
"I'm sorry I didn't get back," Mr. Parker apologized. "It took a long
while to have the stove repaired. Then I met Mrs. Deline and--"
"Oh, I understand," Penny broke in. "The point is, when, if ever, are you
coming back to camp?"
"Why, right now I suppose. We've finished our luncheon."
The waiter had come to the table. Mr. Parker asked for the bill, paid it,
and arose. As he bade Mrs. Deline goodbye, he remarked that he probably
would see her again soon.
Walking to the hotel parking lot where Mr. Parker had left the car,
neither he nor Penny had much to say. Not until they were driving through
the village was the subject of Mrs. Deline mentioned.
"I don't see why you can't be a bit nicer to her," Mr. Parker commented.
"You scarcely spoke a word to her."
"Did she say anything to me?"
"Well, I don't recall."
"I've treated Mrs. Deline just as well as she treats me!" Penny defended
herself. "I'll admit I don't like her."
"And you show it too."
"Maybe I do, but she has no business taking so much of your time."
"So that's where the shoe pinches," chuckled Mr. Parker. "My little girl
is jealous."
"The very idea!"
"Mrs. Deline is brilliant--a highly educated woman and I enjoy talking to
her," Mr. Parker said thoughtfully. "I assure you it's no more serious
than that."
Penny moved close to her father and squeezed his arm.
"We've been pals for such a long while," she said wistfully. "If anything
ever should come between us--"
"Penny, you're positively morbid!" her father interrupted. "Of course
nothing ever will come between us! Now let's talk of more cheerful
subjects."
"Such as?"
"I've been thinking, Penny. You need a friend, someone to pal around
with."
"You're the only friend I need, Dad."
"I mean someone your own age, Penny. Why not send for Louise Sidell? I'll
gladly pay her train fare."
"It would be fun having Lou here."
"Then it's settled. We'll send a wire now." Mr. Parker turned the car
around and drove to the local telegraph office.
Before Penny could change her mind, the message was sent. Not until long
after she and her father had returned to the park did it occur to her
that unwittingly she might have fashioned her own undoing. Though camping
would be far more interesting with Louise to share her experiences, it
also would give her father added opportunity to see Mrs. Deline.
"Maybe he didn't think of that angle," Penny reflected uneasily. "I'll
keep it to myself."
The following day Mr. Parker spent the entire day in camp. With the
gasoline stove in working order, hot meals were prepared though not
without endless effort. There were dishes to wash, beds to make, and by
the time the tasks were done, neither Penny nor her father had any energy
left for hiking.
The second day was much easier. However, with more free time, Mr. Parker
became increasingly restless. He missed his morning paper and was
dissatisfied with the skimpy news reports that came in over the radio.
Penny was not surprised when he mentioned that he would walk down to
Sunset Beach.
"Mind if I go with you?" Penny asked quickly.
"Of course not," her father answered. "Why should I?"
At Sunset Beach a call at the local telegraph office disclosed a message
for Penny which had been held for lack of an address. The wire was from
Louise and read:
"ARRIVING AT SUNSET BEACH THURSDAY ON THE 12:30 PLANE. HOLD EVERYTHING."
"Thursday!" Penny cried, offering the telegram to her father. "That's
tomorrow! My, will I be glad to see Lou! This place has been like a
morgue without her."
"I imagine the town will brighten up quite a bit within the next few
days," Mr. Parker said, a twinkle in his eye. "In fact, Louise may not be
the only new arrival."
"Is someone else coming to see us?"
Mr. Parker would not answer her many questions. "Wait and see," he
teased.
Since arriving at Sunset Beach Penny had been eager to visit the
lighthouse located on Crag Point. Noticing that the tide was low, she
suggested to her father that they go there together.
"Too long a walk," he complained. "You run along by yourself. I'll sun
myself on the beach."
Leaving her father, Penny started off alone. The sun was warm and there
were a number of bathers splashing about in the surf. A long row of
picturesque cottages lined the water front. They thinned out as she went
farther up the beach, and presently there were no habitations, only
desolate, wind-blown sand.
Midway to the lighthouse, Penny met a man of early middle age who carried
fishing rod and creel. He stared at her, hesitated, then paused to speak.
"I notice you're going toward Crag Point," he remarked pleasantly. "Are
you a stranger to this locality?"
Penny admitted that she was.
"Then perhaps you haven't been told that the Point is a dangerous place
to be at high tide."
"No, I hadn't heard."
"The Point is very nearly covered at that time," the stranger explained.
"There's no danger at the present moment, of course."
"How long will I have here?"
"Oh, several hours," the stranger replied. "There's no cause for alarm if
you just keep watch of the tide."
Penny thanked the stranger and walked on toward the lighthouse. The
structure rose to a height of seventy-five feet above the beach and was
reached by means of a narrow little iron stairway.
No one was about the premises as Penny approached. However, as she
started up the iron steps, a door far above her head opened. A burly,
stout man whose face was browned by wind and sun, peered down at her.
"You can't come up here!" he shouted. "No visitors are allowed!"
"Oh," Penny murmured, retreating a step. "I didn't know. I only wanted to
see the tower."
"No visitors," the keeper of the light repeated. "War regulations."
The rule seemed a reasonable one, but after such a long hike, Penny was
disappointed. Walking back to the main section of the beach, she looked
about for her father. He had disappeared.
"I'll bet a cookie he's at the Crystal Inn!" she thought indignantly.
But Penny could not find her father there nor at any other place along
the water front. After an hour's search she decided that he must have
returned to camp. Returning there, she approached the tent, noticing that
the flap was closed, though not buttoned as she had left it.
"Dad must be here," she thought.
Drawing nearer she could see movement within the tent as someone brushed
against the canvas walls.
"Oh, Dad!" she called.
There was no answer. But the next instant a man in rough garments and
straw hat rushed out of the tent. Penny never before had set eyes upon
him. She was so astonished that she gained only a fleeting impression of
the bearded stranger. Seeing her, he thrust some object beneath his coat
and fled into the woods.
CHAPTER
8
_KEEPER OF THE LIGHT_
Recovering from astonishment, Penny darted to the tent and jerked open
the flap. The beds had been torn apart. Her purse, hidden beneath the
pillow, was gone. Suitcases lay open on the canvas floor.
"That man was a thief!" she thought angrily.
Too late, she tried to determine which direction he had taken. She could
hear no sound of crackling leaves or running feet.
"He's lying low," she told herself. "No use chasing him. I never could
find him among the trees."
Thoroughly incensed, she went back to the disordered tent. A preliminary
check revealed that besides the pocketbook, a pair of her father's shoes
and a sweater had been taken.
"Lucky I didn't have much money in my purse," Penny congratulated
herself. "It was a good leather pocketbook though, and I hate to lose
it."
Going outside, she discovered other losses. The supply of groceries had
been ransacked. Bread was gone, several oranges and a tin of cold meat.
"That fellow was hungry," Penny reflected. "Probably some shiftless
person who isn't willing to work for a living."
Entering the tent again, she busied herself making the beds and repacking
the suitcases. As she finished the task, she heard footsteps outside.
Fearful that the thief had returned, she jerked open the canvas flap. It
was her father who had arrived.
"Oh, Dad, I'm glad you're back!" she exclaimed, rushing out to meet him.
"We've been robbed!"
"What?"
Penny told him how she had frightened away the bearded stranger.
"That's bad," Mr. Parker said, frowning. "I didn't suppose there was
another camper within miles of us."
"This man didn't look like a camper, Dad. He wore dirty, mussed clothing
and a beard of at least a week's growth."
"How old a fellow?"
"Why, he looked young to me. And he ran like a young person."
"We'll report it to the ranger," Mr. Parker said, entering the tent to
check over his belongings. "Probably never will get any of our things
back though."
"The ranger may know who the fellow is, Dad."
"That's possible," Mr. Parker admitted. "Penny, I'm glad Louise is coming
tomorrow. I certainly don't like the idea of your remaining here in camp
alone."
"Then why don't you stay with me?" Penny countered instantly.
"Well, I'm planning on being rather busy."
"With Mrs. Deline."
"Penny, you're impossible!"
"Weren't you with her today? I looked everywhere for you."
"Mrs. Deline and I did go for a little walk. No harm in that, is there?"
"It all depends upon your viewpoint," Penny said loftily. "Personally, I
consider her about as harmless as a Grade A rattler!"
"Penny, enough of such talk!"
"Okay," she returned grimly, "but never say I didn't warn you."
"I was about to tell you," Mr. Parker resumed, "that I expect to be busy
the next few days helping local authorities trace that outlaw radio
station we heard on the air."
"Oh!"
"In fact, Army experts are being sent here to aid in the work. My days
will be pretty well tied up."
"I'm sorry, Dad," Penny said contritely. "Naturally I thought--"
"I'm afraid your trouble is that you don't stop to think," Mr. Parker
lectured. "Please, will you forget Mrs. Deline?"
"I promise not to bother you about her again, Dad."
"Good!" Mr. Parker awkwardly patted his daughter's hand. "I realize
you've had an unpleasant time of it so far, Penny. But things should pick
up after Louise arrives."
"And that other surprise you hinted about?"
"Oh, you'll have to wait and see," Mr. Parker smiled. "However, I promise
you that what's coming really will prove a pleasant surprise."
Though Penny kept up a running fire of questions, her father would tell
her no more. From a few hints he dropped, she gathered that he was
expecting a visitor within a day or so. That rather disappointed her, for
with the exception of Louise, she could think of no one she particularly
wanted to see at Sunset Beach.
Later that day when a forest ranger stopped at camp for a few minutes,
Mr. Parker reported the theft of food and clothing to him.
"So the thief was a young man with a beard?" the ranger pondered. "Don't
know of anyone in the area answering such a description. We'll certainly
be on the watch for him."
Penny and her father expected to hear no more from the matter. Toward
sundown, however, the same ranger returned to camp, bringing the missing
pocketbook. It was stripped of money but still contained a compact and
various toilet articles.
"Where did you find the purse?" Penny inquired eagerly.
"On the Beech Trail not far from here."
"Then it was dropped on purpose?"
"Apparently it was. I followed the trail for a quarter of mile, then lost
the fellow when he took to the brook."
"Rather a smart fellow to think of that," commented Mr. Parker
thoughtfully. "Perhaps he wasn't an ordinary snatch-thief after all."
The ranger offered no comment. As he turned to go, he did assure Penny
again that every effort would be made to capture the culprit.
"If the fellow still is in the park we'll get him," he declared. "Don't
you worry about that."
With the coming of dusk a penetrating chill settled over the camp. Even
the hot supper of steak and potatoes that Penny prepared failed to
sufficiently warm the two tenters. They did the dishes and then, not
wishing to go to bed, sought the enclosed car for heat.
"It's starting to rain," Mr. Parker observed as a few drops splashed
against the windshield. "Looks as if we're in for another siege of it."
"And Louise is due tomorrow," Penny sighed. "Unless the weather improves
I'd not blame her one bit if she turns right around and starts back to
Riverview."
The rain came down steadily with a promise of continuing throughout the
night. Mr. Parker read a day-old newspaper by the light in the car,
grumbling because the news was so old. Presently he switched on the
radio, trying without success to tune in the outlaw station which had
been heard previously at the same hour.
"No luck," he commented. "Reception must be poor tonight, or the station
has changed to another time. Probably it's shifted to a different
locality too."
"Dad, isn't it true that the operator of that secret station is an enemy
agent?" Penny asked curiously.
"It's a possibility."
"Why not tell me all about it?"
"Nothing to tell yet, Penny. Confidentially I'll admit I came here hoping
to help State authorities find the station. So far I've accomplished
nothing."
"What clues have you gained?"
"Now Penny, don't quiz me," Mr. Parker laughed. "I'll tell you everything
as soon as I'm free to do so."
"In the meantime, maybe I'll find out for myself!" Penny hinted. Abruptly
swinging open the car door, she bolted through the rain to the tent.
Breakfast the next morning was a more cheerful meal than had been
expected. During the night the rain had ceased and a hot morning sun soon
dried out the drenched canvas. Mr. Parker prepared coffee, eggs and
bacon, an unbelievable example of perfect cooking.
"Dad, I didn't think you had it in you!" Penny praised as she sat down on
a camp stool beside him. "Maybe you'll develop into a real camper after
all."
"Not if I have anything to say about it." Grinning, Mr. Parker dropped
two plump fried eggs on his daughter's plate and took the remaining four
for himself. "This life could be worse though."
"Dad, what time shall we start for the airport?"
Mr. Parker poured himself a cup of coffee and then answered: "Afraid I
won't be able to go with you, Penny."
"But Dad! Louise will be expecting you."
"It's not me she wants to see," Mr. Parker corrected. "I have an
important engagement I can't break."
Penny glanced quickly up. She was tempted to ask her father if he
intended to see Mrs. Deline. Recalling that she had made her father a
promise, she wisely withheld comment. Instead she asked if she might use
the car.
"By all means," he consented. "Just go easy on the gasoline."
Breakfast over, dishes were dispatched and the camp put in order. By
eleven o'clock Penny and her father were in Sunset Beach.
"Drop me anywhere," Mr. Parker instructed vaguely.
Leaving her father on a street corner, Penny drove slowly toward the
airport a mile and a quarter away. There was little travel on the winding
highway which curled along the beach. A government jeep whizzed past and
two soldiers shouted and waved. Penny waved back.
There was no need to hurry for Louise's plane was not yet due. Penny took
her time and enjoyed the ocean scenery. The tide was coming in and gulls
free-wheeled over the waves, dipping down at intervals in search of food.
Gazing along the deserted beach, Penny was startled to see a familiar
feminine figure hastening toward the lighthouse on Crag Point. The woman
wore a white scarf that half obscured her face, yet the girl easily
recognized her.
"Mrs. Deline!" she thought, idling the car. "She's certainly going to the
lighthouse! I wonder if that gruff old keeper will drive her away as he
did me?"
Curious to learn what would happen, the girl drew up at the side of the
road. Mrs. Deline was too far away to observe the automobile. Intent only
upon her own affairs, she walked swiftly along the beach until she
reached the base of the lighthouse.
"Now to see the fun!" chuckled Penny.
The keeper had appeared on the platform and was gazing down upon the
visitor. He called something to the woman that Penny could not hear. But
to her amazement, Mrs. Deline started up the iron stairway.
Penny waited expectantly. She was certain that the keeper of the light
would order Mrs. Deline away. Instead, he greeted her with a hearty
handshake as if they were old friends. They entered the lighthouse tower
room together, and the heavy door closed behind them.
CHAPTER
9
_A SURPRISE FROM THE SKY_
"Well, if that isn't strange!" Penny muttered. "I wasn't permitted to set
foot inside the lighthouse, but in goes Mrs. Deline without a single
question asked!"
Her curiosity aroused, the girl decided to wait and watch. Twenty minutes
elapsed. During that time Mrs. Deline did not reappear. Penny grew tired
of her vigil.