The nearest drugstore with a public telephone was two blocks away. Penny ran the distance, and slipping into the booth, she dialed the Star office. Informed by the building switchboard operator that neither her father nor DeWitt was available, she inquired for Jerry Livingston, and to her relief was connected with him. “Listen, Jerry, this is Penny!” she began excitedly. “I haven’t time to explain, but the lid is blowing off the fake spiritualist story! Rush the police out to the Hodges’ cottage and demand Al Gepper’s arrest! Send another squad or some private detectives to Mr. Henley’s home.” “Henley!” Jerry exclaimed. “Say, have you gone loco?” “I’m not making any mistakes,” Penny replied tersely. “If you act quickly we may prevent a robbery. I’m on my way there now to warn Mr. Henley! Oh, yes, try to find Dad or DeWitt and warn them a big story is breaking!” “Penny, what’s this all about?” the reporter demanded. “I can’t go to the police unless I know what I am doing.” “You must, Jerry. I have plenty of evidence against Gepper and his crowd, but unless you take the police to the Hodges’ in the next fifteen minutes it will be too late!” Without giving Jerry opportunity to delay her with other questions, Penny hung up the receiver. Hastening to the street, she gazed frantically about for a taxi. None was to be had. “I’ll get to the Henley place quicker in Lena than by waiting for a cab to come along,” she thought. The battered old car had been parked a short distance from the Hodges’ cottage. Hurrying there, Penny jumped into the ancient vehicle and started the motor. As usual it made a loud clatter, but she did not suspect that the sound carried far up the street. Nor did she guess that Al Gepper stood at the darkened window of his room, watching her. Penny drove as fast as she could to the Henley home in the southern section of Riverview. Lights blazed from the downstairs windows. Abandoning her car in the driveway, she rang the doorbell. After a long wait, a maid appeared. “Is Mr. Henley here?” Penny asked breathlessly. “Or Mrs. Henley? It’s most important that I talk with them at once.” “Mrs. Henley has been at the seashore for a month,” the maid replied in an agitated voice. “Mr. Henley is somewhere downtown. I’ve been trying to get him, but the telephone wire has been cut!” “The house hasn’t been robbed?” “Mrs. Henley’s jewelry has been taken! I don’t know what else.” “When did it happen?” Penny asked. “It must have been during the last half hour. I went to the corner store for a book of stamps. When I came back five minutes ago I discovered what had occurred. I ought to call the police, but I am afraid to do it until I’ve talked with my employer.” “The police already have been notified,” said Penny. “They’ll be here any minute.” “But how did you know—?” the maid began in astonishment. Penny had turned away. She was convinced that the burglary had been committed by Slippery. Perhaps, by this time he had fled town, but she did not believe he would leave without his pal, Al Gepper. Climbing into the car again, Penny debated. It was reasonable to suppose that, having accomplished the burglary, Slippery would return to the Hodges’ cottage to meet the medium. “If he does, the police should be on hand to seize him,” she thought. “At least, he and Al will be held for questioning. But there’s one place I forgot to cover—the Celestial Temple.” Like a flash came the recollection that Slippery had been deeply interested in something which was guarded in the bell tower. Was it not possible that he might return there before leaving Riverview? Shifting gears, Penny turned the car and headed for Butternut Lane. Anxiously, she glanced at the gasoline gauge. It registered less than a gallon of fuel and she had used her last dime in the telephone booth. “If I coast on all the downgrades I should just make it,” she estimated. In starting for the Celestial Temple Penny was acting upon a “hunch.” However, it disturbed her that the Henley burglary had been accomplished, and she was afraid she might again be wasting precious time. Now that it was too late, she wondered if it would not have been wiser to remain at the Hodges’ cottage until the police arrived. “I only hope that end of the affair isn’t bungled,” she thought. “I’ll never get over it if Al and Slippery both escape.” Penny had reached the entrance to Butternut Lane. Parking at the side of the road, she continued afoot toward the Celestial Temple. From a distance the building appeared dark. However, as she drew closer she could distinguish a dim light. Inside the Temple, a stout man wearing a hat sat with his chair tilted against the door of the bell tower room. “He must be the guard,” thought Penny. “Probably the one they call Pete.” Suddenly she paused, retreating into a clump of elder bushes near the walk. From the direction of the cemetery a figure emerged. At first, all that Penny could distinguish was a man carrying a suitcase. As he drew closer, her pulse quickened. Unmistakably, it was Slippery. Without passing the bushes where the girl had taken refuge, the man walked on toward the Temple. Presently he halted. Glancing carefully about to assure himself that he was unobserved, he shoved his suitcase into the tall weeds which lined the walk. Then he moved to one of the Temple windows, peering into the gloomy interior. “Now what?” thought Penny, watching alertly. “This should prove interesting.” Slippery remained beneath the window a minute or two. Instead of entering the Temple, he presently returned to the high weeds, stooping to remove some object from his suitcase. Hiding it under his coat, he circled the building and approached the side adjoining the cemetery. Thoroughly mystified, Penny cautiously followed, taking care that her body cast no shadow which would attract Slippery’s attention. The man seemed deeply engrossed in the task he had set for himself. From his coat he took a collapsible rod which he extended to the approximate length of a fish pole. To its end he attached a trailing silken ladder. Deftly the man raised the ladder until two metal hooks bit into a projection of the bell tower. He tested the ropes to make certain they would bear his weight then, with the agility of a cat, mounted the silken rungs. Penny saw him disappear into the bell tower. “Now why did he climb up there?” she asked herself. “He must be after something hidden in the belfry.” Penny knew that she was a long distance from police aid, but it was unthinkable that Slippery should be allowed to escape. Impulsively, she moved from her hiding place to the base of the tower. Grasping the silken ladder, she gave it a quick jerk which dislodged the two iron hooks. Down it tumbled into her arms, leaving the man trapped in the turret. “He’ll never dare call for help when he discovers what has happened,” reasoned Penny. “If he does, the guard, Pete, will have something to say!” Rolling the ladder into a small bundle, she started across the clearing, intending to seek the nearest telephone. With no thought of lurking danger, she brushed past a clump of bushes. A hand reached out and grasped her arm. Penny screamed in terror and tried to break free. The hand help her in a grip of steel. As she struggled, her captor emerged from the shelter of leaves. It was Al Gepper. “I thought I might find you here, my little one,” he said grimly. “You have had your fun. Now you must pay, and the entertainment shall be mine!” |