The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (102 page)

“Let’s hike out to his shack this afternoon,” she impulsively proposed to Louise Sidell.

“All right,” her chum agreed. “Why not invite Rhoda too? She might enjoy accompanying us.”

Upon being approached, the trailer camp girl immediately accepted the invitation. Since the last meeting of the Palette Club nearly all of the students had been very kind to her, but she seemed rather indifferent to everyone save Louise and Penny.

As the three girls trudged along the dusty road en-route to the river shack, Rhoda spoke of Mr. Coaten and his friend who still remained in Riverview.

“They’ve taken a room at the Riverview Hotel,” she told Penny and Louise. “Perhaps I am too suspicious, but I don’t trust them. Mr. Coaten never would seem like a father to me.”

“Is he married?” Louise questioned curiously.

“His wife remained in Dallas. The Coatens have two children of their own. I can’t understand why they should be so eager to adopt two more—penniless at that.”

“What will you do?” Louise inquired.

“I don’t know. Ted and I are deadlocked. He favors the adoption, but I am against it.”

“I think you are wise to be cautious—and my advice is ‘stand firm,’” Penny declared promptly. “The Breens were kind enough to take you in when you had no friends, so why not stay on with them?”

“That’s the trouble,” Rhoda confessed. “They haven’t much money, you know, and Mr. Coaten has offered to give them a hundred dollars if they make no objection to the adoption.”

“Buying them off?” Penny commented.

“In a way, yes. But why should Mr. Coaten be so interested in adopting Ted and me? We’ll certainly be a financial liability.”

The problem was such a perplexing one that neither Penny nor Louise could offer any convincing answer. Considering everything Rhoda had told them it appeared that Mr. Coaten must be motivated entirely by generosity. Yet, it seemed odd that if he were an old family friend he had not interested himself in their case at the time of Mr. Wiegand’s death.

Choosing a trail which led along the river, the girls soon came to Truman Crocker’s shack. It was a long, one-story frame building which served the dual purpose of dwelling and shop. The door of the workroom stood ajar, and the stonecutter could be seen grinding a granite block.

“Good afternoon,” Penny said in a loud voice to make herself heard.

The stonecutter jumped from surprise and switched off a running motor.

“You scared me out of a year’s growth,” he grinned. “Well, what can I do for you?”

“Not much of anything,” Penny responded, glancing with interest about the cluttered workshop. “We were just out for a walk and thought we would stop in for a few minutes.”

Her attention drawn to a large rock which had been covered with wet sacking, she crossed the room to examine it. Iron filings had been sprinkled on the covering, and she knew that they must have a special purpose.

“What is this for?” she inquired curiously.

“Oh, I’m removing discoloration from a stone,” Mr. Crocker answered. “Don’t touch the sacking. Leave it alone.”

“What do you do with the rock after you finish working on it?” Louise asked, crossing the room to stand beside Penny.

“I sell it,” Mr. Crocker returned briefly. “I have work to do, and I’m waiting to get at it.”

“Oh, we didn’t mean to interrupt you,” Penny apologized. “The truth is, we came here to ask you about that stone you hauled for Jay Franklin. Do you think the writing on it is genuine?”

“Sure it is. Anyone who knows anything about stones could tell it had been lying in the ground for years.”

“The aging couldn’t have been faked?”

“Say, what is this?” Crocker demanded, scowling. “What are you trying to get at?”

“My father, who publishes the
Star
, believes that someone may be perpetrating a hoax.”

“A what?” Crocker asked, puzzled by the word.

“A joke. He thinks that some
clever
person may have faked the writing on the two stones.”

“Well, I didn’t have nothing to do with it,” Truman Crocker declared, his tone unpleasant. “I hauled the rock for Jay Franklin and that’s all I know about it. Now go away and don’t pester me.”

“We’re the same as absent right now,” Penny laughed, retreating to the doorway. “Thanks for your splendid cooperation.”

“What’s that?”

“Never mind, you wouldn’t understand,” Penny replied. “Goodbye.”

A safe distance from the shack, the three girls expressed their opinion of the old stonecutter’s manners.

“He acted as if we were suspicious of him,” Louise declared. “Such a simple fellow!”

“It never once entered my head that Crocker could have any connection with the hoax, assuming that the writing isn’t genuine,” Penny said. “But now that I think of it, why wouldn’t he be a logical person to do such a trick?”

“He’s far too stupid,” Louise maintained. “Why, I doubt that he ever went through eighth grade in school. Likely he never even heard of Elizabethan writing.”

“All true,” Penny conceded, “but couldn’t someone have employed him? If he were told to carve a rock in such and such a manner, I’m sure he could carry out instructions perfectly. He knows more about such work than anyone in this community.”

“Oh, Penny, you’re quite hopeless!” Louise laughed. “Just let anyone rebuff you, and immediately you try to pin a crime on him!”

“I’m not accusing Truman Crocker of anything—at least not yet. All the same, those two stones were found quite close to his shack. The Gleason farm isn’t more than three-quarters of a mile away.”

“Why should Mr. Crocker be interested in playing such a joke?” Rhoda inquired dubiously. “Or for that matter, any other person?”

“I can’t figure it out,” Penny acknowledged. “If the stones are fakes, one would judge them to be the creation of a rather brilliant practical joker.”

“Are you sure you didn’t do it yourself?” Louise asked teasingly. “After all, you were the one who found the second stone, so that throws suspicion on you!”

Penny allowed the subject to die. With a quick change of interest, she suggested to her companions that they return to Riverview by way of the Marborough place.

“Don’t you think we’re showing ourselves there too frequently,” Louise protested mildly. “There’s such a thing as wearing out one’s welcome.”

“Oh, we needn’t try to break into the house.”Penny grinned. “But if we don’t go there, we’ll never learn any more about the mystery.”

Louise and Rhoda were not particularly eager to climb the hill. However, to oblige Penny they offered no objection to her proposal.

Approaching the Marborough property five minutes later, the girls were startled to hear loud, angry voices. The sound came from the direction of the old wishing well.

“Someone is having a fearful argument!” Penny declared, quickening her step.

As the three friends emerged into the clearing they saw Mrs. Marborough and Jay Franklin sitting together on a garden bench. The widow was speaking in a high-pitched voice, reprimanding the caller for having misled her regarding the record stone found on her land.

“She’s giving it to him right, and I’m glad!” Penny chuckled.

“Let’s not go any closer,” Louise murmured, holding back.

Penny stared at her chum in blank amazement. “Not go closer?” she demanded. “Why, this is why we came! I thought Mr. Franklin might be here, and I want to hear what he has to say for himself.”

CHAPTER 12

NO ADMITTANCE

Neither Louise nor Rhoda approved of interfering in the argument between Mrs. Marborough and Mr. Franklin, but as usual they could not stand firm against Penny. Making considerable noise to give warning of their approach, the girls drew near the garden bench.

“Your conduct has amazed and disappointed me,” theyheard the old lady say in clipped words. “When I allowed you to remove the stone from my yard you promised that you would deliver it to the museum.”

“I may have mentioned such a possibility, but I made no promise,” Mr. Franklin replied. “You sold the rock to me. It is now mine to do with as I see fit.”

“You deliberately tricked me! I am less concerned with the money than with the fact that you are trying to force the museum to pay for something which I meant them to have free.”

“Mrs. Marborough, you sold the rock for two dollars. Unless I am very much mistaken, that money meant more to you than you would have the townspeople believe!”

Mrs. Marborough arose from the bench, glaring at the visitor.

“Mr. Franklin, you are insulting! Leave my premises this minute and never return!”

“I’ll be very happy to depart,” the man retorted, smiling coldly. “I came here only because you sent for me. However, if you were inclined to take a sensible viewpoint, I might make you a business proposition.”

“What do you mean by that, Mr. Franklin?”

“I refer to this house here. If you’re disposed to sell it I might make you an offer.”

Mrs. Marborough had started toward the house, but then she paused and regarded him speculatively.

“What is your offer, Mr. Franklin?”

“I’ll give you fifteen hundred for the house and grounds.”

“Fifteen hundred!” the old lady exclaimed shrilly. “For a house which cost at least forty thousand to build! Aren’t you being outrageously reckless?”

“Old houses are a drug on the market these days, Madam. You’ll find no other buyer in Riverview, I am quite sure. In fact; I wouldn’t make you such a generous offer except that I think this place might be fixed up as a tourist home.”

“A tourist home!” Mrs. Marborough cried furiously. “You would make this beautiful, colonial mansion into a cheap hotel! Oh, go away, and never, never show your face here again!”

“Very well, Madam,” Mr. Franklin responded, still smiling. “However, I warn you that my next offer for the property will not be as generous a one.”

“Generous!” Mrs. Marborough fairly screamed for she was determined to have the final word. “Your price would be robbery! You’re just like your father, who was one of the worst skinflints I ever knew!”

Mr. Franklin had nothing more to say. With a shrug, he turned and strode from the yard. Mrs. Marborough gazed after him for a moment, and then sinking down on the stone bench, began to cry. Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned her head and saw the three girls. Hastily, she dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief.

“Oh, Mrs. Marborough, don’t feel badly,” Penny said quickly. “We heard what he said to you. Mr. Franklin should be ashamed of himself.”

“That man doesn’t affect me one way or the other,” the old lady announced with a toss of the head. The girls accepted the explanation with tranquil faces although they knew very well why Mrs. Marborough had wept. Rhoda wandered to the wishing well, peering down into the crystal-clear water.

“Do you know, I’m tempted to make another wish,” she remarked. “Would it be very selfish of me?”

“Selfish?” Louise inquired, puzzled.

“The last one came true. I shouldn’t expect too much.”

“Do make your wish, Rhoda,” urged Penny, “but don’t anticipate quick action. I’m still waiting for mine to come true.”

Rhoda drew a bucket of water from the well, and filling the dipper which always hung on a nail of the wooden roof, drank deeply.

“I wish,” she said soberly, “I wish that Ted might find a job. If he could get work, maybe it wouldn’t be necessary to accept charity from Mr. Coaten or anyone!”

Rhoda’s wish, so earnestly spoken, slightly embarrassed the others, for it served to remind them of the girl’s poverty.

“Now you make one, Penny,” Louise urged to cover an awkward silence.

“I can’t think of anything I want,” Penny answered.

“Well, I can!” Mrs. Marborough announced unexpectedly. “In all the years of my life I’ve never made a wish at this well, but now I shall!”

To the delight of the girls, she reached for the bucket of water. With a grim face she slammed the entire contents back into the well.

“Just a little token, O wishing well,” she muttered. “My desire is a most worthy one. All I ask is that Jay Franklin be given his come-uppance!”

“We’ll all second that wish!” Penny added gaily.

“There!” Mrs. Marborough declared, rather pleased with herself. “That makes me feel better. Now I’ll forget that man and go about my business.”

“I think it was selfish of him to take the attitude he did about the stone,” Penny said, wishing to keep an entertaining topic alive.

Mrs. Marborough seemed to have lost all interest in the subject. Gathering her long skirts about her, she started for the house. Midway up the flagstone path she paused to say:

“There’s a tree of nice summer apples out yonder by the back fence. Pick all you like and take some home if you care for them.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Marborough,” Louise responded politely.

After the door had closed behind the old lady, the girls did not immediately leave the vicinity of the wishing well.