what I want to know about that place and the people who live there."
"It gives me the shivers to go near the property. Anyhow, that old
hunchback never will let us inside!"
"Why don't we try, just for luck? Come on, Lou, at least we can talk to
him."
Much against her will, Louise was induced to accompany Penny to the big
grilled gate.
To their surprise, it stood slightly ajar as if in invitation for them to
enter. The front grounds were deserted and so was the gatehouse.
"We're in luck!" chuckled Penny. "Winkey's gone off somewhere."
Louise's feet were reluctant as she followed her chum to the entrance
door of the monastery. "Please--" she whispered, but already Penny had
thumped the lion's head knocker against the brass plate.
Several moments elapsed and then a peephole panel just above their heads
shot open. Old Julia, in white lace cap, her eyes dilated with wonder or
fear, peered out at them.
Her lips moved in a gibberish they could not understand.
"She's telling us to go away!" Louise decided quickly. "And that's what
we're doing!"
"No! Wait!" Penny held tight to her chum's arm. "Someone else is coming
now."
Even as she spoke, the door opened and Father Benedict towered above them
in his impressive robes.
"Yes?" he inquired. The word was mildly spoken but with no cordiality.
"Good afternoon, Father," said Penny brightly. "I hope you don't mind our
coming here again. We're deeply interested in the work you're doing and
would like to learn more about the cult."
"A story for newspaper publication?"
"Oh, no!" Penny assured him, reading displeasure in his eyes. "We're just
interested on general principles. No one sent us."
The monk relaxed slightly but still did not invite the girls in. "I am
very busy today," he said. "Perhaps another time--"
"Oh, but we'll be in school after this weekend, Father."
"We are preparing for a ceremonial to be held in the cloister," Father
Benedict frowned. "I deeply regret--"
"Oh, a ceremonial!" Penny interrupted eagerly. "May we see it?"
"That is not allowed. Only members of our cult may take part or observe."
"Well, at least you don't mind if we come in and warm ourselves at your
hospitable fire," Penny said, determined not to be turned away. "Since
the organization is devoted to charity, shouldn't it begin with a couple
of school girls?"
Father Benedict's thin lips cracked into a slight smile.
"My observation would lead me to believe that the day is a warm one and
that neither of you are suffering from frost-bite. However, I admire
perseverance and it shall be rewarded. You may come in--though only for a
short while."
"Oh, thank you, Father!" Penny exclaimed, rather astonished by the
decision.
In her eagerness to enter, she nearly stumbled over Old Julia, who
huddled by the wall just inside the door. Angrily, the monk glared at his
servant.
"Keep from underfoot, Julia!" he ordered. "Begone to the kitchen!"
The old woman, with a frightened glance directed at Louise and Penny,
scurried away.
Once inside, the girls could understand why visitors were not welcome,
for little had been done to make the place habitable since Penny's
previous visit.
Through chilly halls the monk conducted the girls to the study beyond the
cloister. There he motioned them to footstools before the fire. On the
hearth a large log which Penny suspected had come from the Eckenrod
property, had burned down to a cherry mass of coals.
"Now, suppose you tell me what you actually came here to learn?" Father
Benedict asked, looking hard at Penny.
The abrupt question caught her slightly off guard. She could think of no
ready reply. As she debated whether or not to tell him of Winkey's fight
with Mr. Eckenrod, footsteps pounded down the corridor.
Suddenly the study door was flung open. The hunchback stood there,
breathing hard from having hurried so fast.
"Come quick!" he said tersely to the monk.
"What's wrong, Winkey?"
"Trouble below!"
Preparing to follow the hunchback, Father Benedict briefly made his
excuses to the girls. "I'll be gone only a minute," he said. "Warm
yourselves until my return."
After the door had closed behind the pair, Penny said in a low tone:
"Wonder what's up? So far as I know, the only rooms below are the storage
cellars and crypt."
"Maybe some of the dead bodies are coming to life!" Louise joked feebly.
"I hate this place worse every minute."
She arose and wandered slowly about the room. "Somehow, the air is
oppressive. I feel as if doom were about to descend upon me!"
"Nerves!" chuckled Penny.
Louise paused beside the crystal ball. "What's this thing?" she asked
suspiciously.
"Only Father Benedict's crystal globe. Take a look and see what's doing
in the cellar!"
"You're joking!"
"Guess I am," Penny agreed. Arising, she joined Louise and for a long
moment peered intently into the depths of the crystal ball. Seeing
nothing in the glass she muttered in disgust: "Bunk!"
"How does one reach the basement and crypt?" Louise inquired.
"According to a plan I saw at Mr. Eckenrod's, a stairway leads down from
the far end of the cloister. Say! Why not do a little exploring while
Father Benedict is away?"
"He wouldn't like it."
"We'll never have a better chance." Crossing the room in long strides,
Penny tried to open the door.
The knob turned readily, but the door would not open.
"Lou," she exclaimed in dismay, "Father Benedict certainly played a nice
trick on us! We're locked in!"
CHAPTER
13
_OLD JULIA'S WARNING_
Badly frightened, Louise came quickly to her chum's side.
"Are you sure the door is locked?" she asked nervously. "Maybe it's only
stuck."
"It's locked all right. We'll do no exploring today."
"Let's scream for help! We've got to get out of here!"
"Father Benedict is in the basement and wouldn't hear us," Penny said.
"And he may have locked us in on purpose too! But I heard no key turn in
the lock."
"Neither did I."
"The door may have an automatic catch."
"Probably that's so," Penny agreed to keep her chum from worrying.
"Father Benedict should be back soon. Let's not let him know we even
noticed the door was locked."
"Do you think he fastened it on purpose?"
"He may have," Penny said slowly. "Perhaps he didn't want us to wander
about the monastery while he was gone."
"What if he doesn't come back?"
"He will, my pet. Now do stop worrying! The smart thing for us to do, is
to learn what we can while we're here."
"A lot we can learn locked up in this stuffy room!"
Without replying, Penny wandered about the room, scrutinizing art objects
and each piece of furniture.
"For a man who professes to live a life of poverty, Father Benedict shows
quite a liking for luxury items," she remarked.
Coming to a battered desk cluttered with papers, she paused and eyed it
thoughtfully.
"Penny, we wouldn't dare pry!" exclaimed Louise, guessing what was in her
chum's mind.
"I suppose not," sighed Penny, "only I'm sure Mr. Ayling would do it if
he were here. Those papers in the pigeon holes look as though they're
unpaid bills--a whole stack of them too!"
On the desk lay an open account book and the girl gazed at it with keen
interest. A long list of names had been written in ink. On one side of
the ledger was a column marked "Contributions."
"Penny, you are snooping!" accused Louise, but she added with an excited
laugh: "If you find anything worth while, let me know!"
"Then consider yourself officially notified!"
Startled, Louise went quickly to the desk. "What have you found?" she
demanded.
Penny showed her the book in which were listed many names.
"This looks like a report covering donations made by cult members to the
society!" she declared. "Do you suppose Mrs. Hawthorne's name is here?"
Hurriedly the girls examined the tiny ledger. First on the list was a
Mrs. Carl Kingsley, who had contributed two diamond clips at estimated
value of $650.
"Ever hear of her?" Penny asked, for the name was unfamiliar.
"Never. She may not be from Riverview."
Rapidly they scanned the entire list. There were many names, all of
women. Contributions included cash, pearls, silver bracelets, gold wrist
watches, an emerald pin, and other articles of jewelry.
However, the girls could not find Mrs. Hawthorne's name, nor that of her
granddaughter.
"This list doesn't prove anything one way or the other," Penny said,
carefully replacing the ledger on the desk where she had found it. "Mrs.
Hawthorne could have joined the cult under a different name. Father
Benedict might not even know who she is."
"Oh, Penny!" teased her companion. "You want to uncover a mystery so
badly! Actually, there's not one bit of evidence that Mrs. Hawthorne ever
came here."
"True," Penny acknowledged in a low tone, "but you will admit a lot of
queer things have happened. For instance, who sent Mr. Ayling the fake
telegram? And why hasn't he returned to Riverview as he said he would?"
"He's hardly had time yet. Anyway, what connection could his absence have
with this monastery?"
"None, perhaps. Unless Mrs. Hawthorne should be here--"
"Oh, Penny! Father Benedict denied that she was, didn't he?"
"Yes, but that crystal ball reading he gave for Mr. Ayling's benefit was
a strange affair. And Lou! The worst was, _he predicted harm would befall
him_! Maybe it has!"
"So you're superstitious! Do you really believe in those crystal ball
readings?"
"No, I'm not!" Penny denied hotly. "Not for a minute do I put any faith
in that crystal ball! But--"
"Mr. Ayling is delayed in Chicago, so you start to worry," completed
Louise. "Penny, you're certainly building up a case!"
"Maybe I am," Penny admitted with a shrug. "However, other things bother
me too."
"For instance?"
"That scream we heard at midnight. Mr. Eckenrod and his wife told me they
had been awakened by strange noises here."
"Didn't you understand from Father Benedict that Old Julia causes the
commotion?"
"Yes, and it's plain to see she is a poor demented creature. Still,
there's something about her--when we came in today, I had a feeling that
she was trying to tell us something."
"She did warn us away. However, in her condition she might say anything.
So I dismissed it."
"I wish I could talk to Old Julia when Father Benedict isn't around,"
Penny said soberly. "I have a hunch she could tell us interesting things
about this place!"
"Then you do distrust Father Benedict!"
"Not exactly," Penny denied. "He's been pleasant enough to us, and I
suppose he has a perfect right to start a crazy cult here if he chooses."
"It's not only crazy but profitable," Louise reminded her. "Those
contributions listed total up to several thousand dollars!"
"According to Father Benedict, the money goes to charity. But what
charity? It's a cinch he isn't spending much in supporting the members of
his cult. This building is as barren as a barn, and I've not seen any
supplies come into the place while we've been around!"
"And where are the cult members?"
"They must stay in their rooms."
"A fine life!"
"I'm sure there are people in this household who aren't listed in the
ledger," Penny resumed thoughtfully. "For instance, that girl I saw when
I came here with Mr. Ayling. Who is she, and where does she keep
herself?"
"Why not ask Father Benedict--that is, if we ever get out of here."
"I can't quite bring myself to do it, Lou. If ever I started asking
questions, I wouldn't know where to stop."
"There's only one that bothers me," Louise said, roving toward the door.
"How are we going to get out of here? Let's call for help!"
"Okay," Penny agreed reluctantly. "I hate to do it though."
First testing the door again to be certain it was locked and not stuck,
she pounded with her fists on the heavy oak paneling.
"Let us out!" Louise called loudly. "Let us out! We're locked in!"
"That ought to fetch someone!" chuckled Penny. "Listen! I think I hear
footsteps now."
From down the corridor, the girls detected a soft patter and a creaking
of boards. To attract attention to their plight, they again pounded on
the oaken panel.
The footsteps approached the door and halted. Penny, her ear pressed to
the panel, could hear the sound of breathing on the other side.
"Let us out!" she called. "We're locked in here!"
"Sh!" came the loud hiss.
"It must be Old Julia!" Penny whispered to Louise. "Do you suppose she'll
have sense enough to help us?"
"I doubt it," Louise muttered, resigning herself to a long wait in the
monk's study. "Maybe we can get across to her the idea that she should
bring Father Benedict here."
"Listen, Julia," Penny began, speaking slowly and as clearly as she
could. "We're locked in here and we need help. Can you bring your
master?"
"No! No!" came the sharp answer.
"Then unlock the door," Penny urged.
"Key gone," the old woman mumbled.
"Can't you find it? Don't you know where your master keeps them?"
There was no answer, but the girls heard the old woman scurry away.
"Has she gone to find a key, or has she just gone?" Louise sighed.
"Father Benedict probably still is in the basement with Winkey, so we can
expect no help from that quarter."
Impatiently, Penny glanced at her wrist watch. Actually, they had been
locked in the room less than twenty minutes, but it seemed three times
that long.
"It's useless!" Louise said, seating herself by the fire again. "We're
trapped here until Father Benedict gets around to letting us out!"
At the door, Penny's keen ears detected sound. Again the pad, pad of
footsteps!
"Old Julia's coming back!" she exclaimed. "Maybe she's not as stupid as
we thought!"
Anxiously the girls waited. To their great relief, they heard a key turn
in the lock. Then, an inch at a time, the door was pushed open.
Old Julia, her eyes wild, and hair streaming down her face, stared
blankly in at them.
"Thanks, Julia!" said Penny. She tried to touch the woman's hand in a
gesture of friendship, only to have her shrink back.
"Why, we won't hurt you," Penny attempted to sooth her.
"Go!" the woman mumbled, her cracked lips quivering. "Go!"
_Seeing us here always seems to upset her, Penny thought._ Aloud she
remarked: "Yes, we're leaving now. If Father Benedict wonders what became
of us, I'm afraid he'll just have to guess."
The girls started toward the cloister with Old Julia following a step
behind.
"Hurry! Hurry!" she muttered. "No time!"
"Oh, we have plenty of time, if that's what you mean," replied Penny,
smiling at her in a friendly way. Suddenly she halted as the thought
occurred to her that she might obtain useful information from the woman
if only she phrased her questions skillfully.
"Julia, you must know everyone who lives here in the dormitory rooms,"
she began. "Do you often see a girl about my age?"
A strange light flickered for a moment in the old woman's watery gray
eyes, then died. She merely stared at Penny.
"No soap!" commented Louise. "Let's get out of here."
Penny, however, was persistent.
"Julia, you must have seen her--a girl like me," she emphasized. "Does
she sleep here?"
"Sleep--sleep--" the word seemingly had aroused an unpleasant chain of
thought in the old woman's twisted mind.
"Where is the girl's room?" Penny probed.
Julia did not act as if she had heard the question. She was mumbling to
herself, a look of horror upon her face.
"What's she saying?" Louise demanded, unable to catch a word.
Penny bent closer. Distinctly she heard the old woman mutter: "The
canopied bed! In the chapel room--"
Then old Julia stiffened and she flattened herself against the wall of
the passageway, her eyes wide with fear.
Directly ahead, in the doorway opening onto the cloister, stood Father
Benedict.
CHAPTER
14
_AN ASSIGNMENT FOR PENNY_
Father Benedict's face was as expressionless as a marble statue, but his
dark eyes smoldered with anger.
Ignoring Penny and Louise for the moment, he fixed the cringing Julia
with stern gaze.
"Did I not order you to remain in the kitchen?" he demanded. His voice
was low, almost purring. Nevertheless, the woman acted as if she had been
lashed with a whip.
Mumbling unintelligibly, she scurried off down the covered passageway
along the side of the cloister, and disappeared through another doorway.
"Please, it wasn't Julia's fault that she was here," said Penny, feeling
sorry for the unfortunate woman. "Louise and I called for help and she
came to assist us."
"Yes, we were locked in the study," added Louise. "If she hadn't come to
our rescue, we would have been there yet."
"Do I understand you to say you were _locked_ in?" asked the monk, his
shaggy eyebrows lifting in astonishment. "The door sticks sometimes."
"It was locked," interposed Penny quietly. "We tried several times to
open it. Julia finally let us out with a key."
Having divulged this bit of information, she immediately regretted it. A
shadow passed over the monk's countenance.
"A key?" he repeated. "How would Julia know--" Breaking off, he smiled
and completed: "The locks here are very old and sadly in need of repair.
I must have a locksmith in immediately."
Father Benedict fixed his gaze upon one of the twisted, weather-stained
columns of the cloister, for the moment seeming to forget the girls.
Becoming a little uncomfortable, they edged toward the exit.
"We'll be going now," said Penny to remind him of their presence. "That
is, unless you'll permit us to witness the cult ceremony."
"The main hall has not yet been prepared," Father Benedict replied
quickly. "We have postponed the ceremony until later tonight."
"Perhaps we could return then."
"It would be highly inadvisable." Father Benedict's deep frown plainly
showed that he was becoming irritated. "The members of our sect are
sensitive to visitors. I regret onlookers are not as yet welcome."
_That's telling me in a nice way to mind my own business_, thought Penny.
Aloud she said: "I see. Well, later on, perhaps."
Politely, Father Benedict escorted the girls through the cloister. Penny
noted that much of the dirt and debris had been swept away. A beautifully
carved stone stairway, which she had failed to notice upon her previous
visit, led up to a narrow balcony.
Observing that many doors opened from it, she inquired if the dormitories
were above.
"They are," the monk replied in a brief tone which discouraged further
questions.
"It's so still in here," remarked Louise as they walked on. "One never
would dream many people are staying in the building."
"We lead a quiet life," the monk explained. "For the most part, my people
spend their time reading or in meditation and prayer."
The three now had reached the front door, and Penny thought she detected
an expression of relief upon Father Benedict's face as he opened it for
them.
"By the way," she remarked, "was anything seriously wrong in the cellar?"
"Oh, no! Nothing at all! Merely a leaking pipe. A plumber will take care
of it. Thank you, and good afternoon."
With no show of haste, but very firmly, the monk closed the door in their
faces.
"Well, how do you like that!" Penny muttered. "I never received a
smoother brush-off!"
Snow was melting fast and running in rivers down the brick walk as the
girls sauntered toward the gate. Winkey was nowhere to be seen, but
knowing he might be close by, they were careful not to discuss Father
Benedict until they were well beyond the property boundaries.
"Well, I guess this puts an end to your visits here," remarked Louise as
they walked toward the parked car. "Father Benedict seems determined not
to let you witness one of the cult ceremonies."
"Which makes me all the more determined to see one!"
"I have a hunch he'll turn you away if you call at the monastery again.
Why don't you forget the place, Penny?"
"I should say not! I have an idea--it just came to me!"
"I suppose you'll sneak back at night or something equally as dramatic,"
teased Louise.
Penny plucked an icicle from a roadside bush, nibbling at it thoughtfully
as she replied: "Only as a last resort. No, I'll drop in at the newspaper
office and get Mr. DeWitt, the city editor, to assign me to do a feature
story on the ceremony tonight. If I officially represent the _Riverview
Star_, Father Benedict can't so easily turn me away."
The girls had reached the car. Stowing their skiing equipment, they
motored rapidly toward the city.
"What did you think of Old Julia?" Penny inquired as they neared Louise's
home. "Especially her remark about the canopied bed in the chapel?"
"Whoever heard of a bed of any kind in a chapel?" Louise scoffed. "She's
dizzy, that's all."
"From a map Mr. Eckenrod showed me, I know the chapel is just off the
cloister above the crypt," Penny recalled, switching on the windshield
wiper to clear the glass of melting snow. "I suppose it could have been
converted into a bedroom."
"I don't think her remark meant a thing. She mumbles most of the time."
"True, but the thing I noticed was that she seemed so afraid of Father
Benedict. Do you suppose he abuses her?"
"Oh, Penny! A man of his calling?"
"He's not a real monk. Apparently this cult is only an order that has
been in existence a short time. Father Benedict doesn't impress me as a
very religious man. Furthermore, all that crystal-glass-gazing business
leads me to think he's more of a charlatan than anything else!"
"Do you think he runs the place to get money?"
"I'm wondering, that's all. We know he accepts very liberal contributions
from his converts. Where does the money go?"
"If I were certain he locked us in that room today, I'd believe the
worst!" Louise declared as the car stopped in front of the Sidell home.
Opening the door to alight, she added: "He put up a good story though. I
guess it must have been an accident."
Penny made no reply.
"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," Louise bade her goodbye. "If you arrange
to see one of the cult ceremonies, be sure to let me know."
The afternoon now was late. Penny drove to the _Riverview Star_ building.
Girls who worked in the downstairs business office were leaving for the
day, but upstairs the editorial staff was just swinging into action for a
busy night.
At the city editor's desk a short wave radio blared routine police calls.
Editor DeWitt, an eyeshade pulled low over his eyes, scowled as he
rapidly scanned copy.
Seeing Penny, he looked up and smiled, which was the signal for her to
explain the purpose of her call.
Going straight to the point, she asked to be assigned a feature story on
the cult ceremony that night in the monastery.
"Think you can get it?" he demanded gruffly.
"Why not?"
"Two of our reporters already have failed. The high monkey-monk out there
won't allow any of our men in the building."
"Then you'd like a story?"
"Sure. We're interested in what's going on out there." Mr. DeWitt slashed
a page of corrected copy in half with his long scissors. He dropped one
section onto the floor and the other into the copy basket. "Learn
anything worth while out there today?"
"Nothing worthy of print. If you'll assign me to the story I'll go back
tonight. I think I can get inside again."
"Okay, give me a ring if you run into anything interesting. Your father
know you're going?"
"Well, I haven't told him yet."
"Be sure you do," said Mr. DeWitt, looking her straight in the eyes. "I
don't want to find myself sitting behind the eight ball!"
"Oh, I'll let Dad know," Penny assured him hastily. "I'll do it now."
However, her father was in conference, so after waiting around the office
a little while, she decided to talk the matter over with him when he came
home for dinner.
In the elevator, leaving the office, Penny ran into Jerry Livingston.
Hearing of the assignment, he looked a little worried.
"Think you ought to go out to the monastery alone at night?" he inquired.
"I don't see why not, Jerry."
"I've not met Father Benedict myself," Jerry said, "but one of our
reporters who was out there yesterday, didn't like his appearance. I'll
bet a cent your father refuses to let you go."
"I hope not," Penny said anxiously. "I'll put up a big argument."
"What time you leaving?" Jerry asked as the elevator let them out on the
main floor.
"Early. Maybe around seven o'clock."
"Well, good luck," Jerry said. "I suppose it's all right, or DeWitt
wouldn't have given you the assignment."
Parting company with the reporter, Penny stopped briefly at the Riverview
Hotel to inquire if Mr. Ayling had returned from Chicago. He had not
checked in.