“I’ve been on the stage since I was twelve years old,” the woman answered proudly. “You must have seen my name on the billboards. I am Miss Miller. Maxine Miller.”
“I should like to see one of your plays,” Penny responded politely.
“The truth is I’ve been ‘at liberty’ for the past year or two,” the actress admitted with an embarrassed laugh. “‘At liberty’ is a word we show people use when we’re temporarily out of work. The movies have practically ruined the stage.”
“Yes, I know.”
“For several weeks I have been trying to get an interview with Mr. Balantine. His secretaries would not make an appointment for me. Then quite by luck I learned that he planned to spend two weeks at Pine Top. I thought if I could meet him out there in his more relaxed moments, he might give me a role in the new production.”
“Isn’t it a rather long chance to take?” questioned Penny. “To go so far just in the hope of seeing this man?”
“Yes, but I like long chances. And I’ve tried every other way to meet him. If I win the part I’ll be well repaid for my time and money.”
“And if you fail?”
Maxine Miller shrugged. “The bread line, perhaps, or burlesque which would be worse. If I stay at Pine Top more than a few days I’ll never have money enough to get back here. They tell me Pine Top is high-priced.”
“I don’t know about that,” answered Penny.
As the plane winged its way in a northwesterly direction, the actress kept the conversational ball rolling at an exhausting pace. She told Penny all about herself, her trials and triumphs on the stage. As first, it was fairly interesting, but as Miss Miller repeated herself, the girl became increasingly bored. She shrewdly guessed that the actress never had been the outstanding stage success she visioned herself.
Penny paid more than ordinary attention to the two men who sat in front of her. However, Miss Miller kept her so busy answering questions that she could not have overheard their talk, even if she had made an effort to do so.
Therefore, when the plane made a brief stop, she was astonished to have Francine sidle over to her as she sat on a high stool at the lunch stand, and say in a cutting tone:
“Well, did you find out everything you wanted to know? I saw you listening hard enough.”
“Eavesdropping isn’t my method,” replied Penny indignantly. “It’s stupid and is employed only by trash fiction writers and possiblyRecordreporters.”
“Say, are you suggesting—?”
“Yes,” interrupted Penny wearily. “Now please go find yourself a roost!”
Francine ignored the empty stools beside Penny and went to the far side of the lunch room. A moment later the two men, who had caused the young woman reporter such concern, entered and sat down at a counter near Penny, ordering sandwiches and coffee.
Rather ironically, the girl could not avoid hearing their conversation, and almost their first words gave her an unpleasant shock.
“Don’t worry, Ralph,” said the stout one. “Nothing stands in our way now.”
“You’re not forgetting Mrs. Downey’s place?”
“We’ll soon take care ofher,” the other boasted. “That’s why I’m going out to Pine Top with you, Ralph. I’ll show you how these little affairs are handled.”
Penny was startled by the remarks of the two men because she felt certain that the Mrs. Downey under discussion must be the woman at whose inn she would spend a two weeks’ vacation. Was it possible that a plot was being hatched against her father’s friend? And what did Francine know about it?
She glanced quickly toward the young woman reporter who was doing battle with a tough steak which threatened to leap off her plate whenever she tried to cut it. Apparently, Francine had not heard any part of the conversation.
Being only human, Penny decided that despite her recent comments, she could not be expected to abandon a perfectly good sandwich in the interests of theoretical honor. She remained at her post and waited for the men to reveal more.
Unobligingly, they began to talk of the weather and politics. Penny finished her sandwich, and sliding down from the stool wandered outdoors.
“I wish I knew who those men are,” she thought. “Francine could tell me if she weren’t so horrid.”
Penny waited until the last possible minute before boarding the plane. As she stepped inside the cabin she was surprised to see that Francine had taken the chair beside Maxine Miller, very coolly moving Penny’s belongings to the seat at the back of the airliner.
“Did you two decide to change places?” inquired the stewardess as Penny hesitated beside the empty chair.
“I didn’t decide. It just seems to be an accomplished fact.”
The stewardess went down the aisle and touched Francine’s arm. “Usually the passengers keep their same seats throughout the journey,” she said with a pleasant smile. “Would you mind?”
Francine did mind for she had cut her lunch short in the hope of obtaining the coveted chair, but she could not refuse to move. Frowning, she went back to her former place.
Actually, Penny was not particular where she sat. There was no practical advantage in being directly behind the two strangers, for their voices were seldom audible above the roar of the plane. On the other hand, Miss Miller talked loudly and with scarcely a halt for breath. Penny was rather relieved when an early stop for dinner enabled her to gain a slight respite.
With flying conditions still favorable, the second half of the journey was begun. Penny curled up in her clean, comfortable bed, and the gentle rocking of the plane soon lulled her to sleep. She did not awaken until morning when the stewardess came to warn her they soon would be at their destination. Penny dressed speedily, and enjoyed a delicious breakfast brought to her on a tray. She had just finished when Francine staggered down the aisle, eyes bloodshot, her straight black hair looking as if it had never been combed.
“Will I be glad to get off this plane!” she moaned. “What a night!”
“I didn’t notice anything wrong with it,” said Penny. “I take it you didn’t sleep well.”
“Sleep? I never closed my eyes all night, not with this roller-coaster sliding down one mountain and up another. I thought every minute we were going to crash.”
Maxine Miller likewise seemed to have spent an uncomfortable night, for her face was haggard and worn. She looked five years older and her make-up was smeared.
“Tell me, do I look too dreadful?” she asked Penny anxiously. “I want to appear my best when I meet Mr. Balantine.”
“You’ll have time to rest up before you see him,” the girl replied kindly.
“How long before we reach Pine Top?”
“We should be approaching there now.” Penny studied the terrain below with deep interest, noting mountain ranges and beautiful snowy valleys.
At last the plane circled and swept down on a small landing field which had been cleared of snow. Passengers began to pour from the cabin, grateful that the long journey was finally at an end.
“I hope I see you again,” said Penny, extending her hand to Miss Miller. “And the best of luck with Mr. Balantine.”
Eagerly, she gathered together her possessions and stepped out of the plane into blinding sunlight. The air was crisp and cold, but there was a quality to it which made her take long, deep breaths. Beyond the landing field stood a tall row of pine trees, each topped with a layer of snow like the white icing of a cake. From somewhere far away she could hear the merry jingle of sleigh bells.
“So this is Pine Top!” thought Penny. “It’s as pretty as a Christmas card!”
A small group of persons were at the field to meet the plane. Catching sight of a short, sober-looking little woman who was bundled in furs, Penny hastened toward her.
“Mrs. Downey!” she cried.
“Penny, my dear! How glad I am to see you!” The woman clasped her firmly, planting a kiss on either cheek. “But your father shouldn’t have disappointed me. Why didn’t he come along?”
“He wanted to, but he’s up to his eyebrows in trouble. A man is suing him for libel.”
“Oh, thatisbad,” murmured Mrs. Downey. “I know what legal trouble means because I’ve had an unpleasant taste of it myself lately. But come, let’s get your luggage and be starting up the mountain.”
“Just a minute,” said Penny in a low tone. With a slight inclination of her head, she indicated the two male passengers who had made the long journey from Riverview to Pine Top. “You don’t by any chance know either of those men?”
Mrs. Downey’s face lost its kindliness and she said, in a grim voice: “I certainly do!”
Before Penny could urge the woman to reveal their identity, Francine walked over to where she and Mrs. Downey stood.
“Did you wish to see me?” inquired the hotel woman as Francine looked at her with an inquiring gaze.
“Are you Mrs. Downey?”
“Yes, I am.”
“I am looking for a place to stay,” said Francine. “I was told that you keep an inn.”
“Yes, we have a very nice lodge up the mountain about a mile from here. The rooms are comfortable, and I do most of the cooking myself. We’re located on the best ski slopes in the valley. But if you’re looking for a place with plenty of style and corresponding prices you might prefer the Fergus place.”
“Your lodge will exactly suit me, I think,” declared Francine. “How do I get there?”
“In my bob-sled,” offered Mrs. Downey. “I may have a few other guests.”
“It won’t take me a minute to get my luggage,” said Francine, moving away.
Penny was none too pleased to know that the girl reporter would make her headquarters at the Downey Inn. Her face must have mirrored her misgiving, for Mrs. Downey said apologetically:
“Business hasn’t been any too good this season. I have to pick up an extra tourist whenever I can.”
“Of course,” agreed Penny hastily. “One can’t run a hotel without guests.”
“I do believe Jake has snared another victim,” Mrs. Downey laughed. “That woman with the bleached hair.”
“And who is Jake?” inquired Penny.
Mrs. Downey nodded her head toward a spry man with leathery skin who was talking with Maxine Miller.
“He does odd jobs for me at the Inn,” she explained. “When he has no other occupation he tries to entice guests into our den.”
“You make it sound like a very wicked business,” chuckled Penny.
“Since the Fergus hotel was built it’s become a struggle, to the death,” replied Mrs. Downey soberly. “I truly believe this will be my last year at Pine Top.”
“Why, you’ve had your home here for years,” said Penny in astonishment. “You were at Pine Top long before anyone thought of it as a great skiing resort. You’re an institution here, Mrs. Downey. Surely you aren’t serious about giving up your lodge?”
“Yes, I am, Penny. But I shouldn’t start telling my troubles the moment you arrive. I never would have said a word if you hadn’t asked me about those two men yonder.”
She gazed scornfully toward the strangers whose identity Penny hoped to learn.
“Whoarethey?” Penny asked quickly.
“The slim fellow with the sharp face is Ralph Fergus,” answered Mrs. Downey, her voice filled with bitterness. “He manages the hotel and is supposed to be the owner. Actually, the other man is the one who provides all the money.”
“And who is he?”
“Why, you should know,” replied Mrs. Downey. “He has a hotel in Riverview. His name is Harvey Maxwell. He only comes here now and then.”
“Harvey Maxwell!” repeated Penny. “Wait until Dad hears about this!”
“Your father has had dealings with him?”
“Has he?” murmured Penny. “Maxwell is the man who is suing Dad for libel!”
“Well, of all things!”
“I believe I understand why Francine came out here too,” Penny said thoughtfully.
“Francine?”
“The girl who just engaged a room at your place. I think she went to your Inn for the sole purpose of keeping an eye on me.”
“Why should she wish to do that?”
“Francine is a reporter for theRiverview Record. Dad’s story about Maxwell bribing a football player served as a tip-off to other editors. Now theRecordmay hope to get evidence against him which they can build up into a big story.”
“I should think that would help your father’s case.”
“It might,” agreed Penny, “all depending upon how the evidence was used. But somehow, I don’t trust Francine. If there’s any fancy newspaper work to be done at Pine Top, I aim to look after it myself!”
Mrs. Downey laughed at Penny’s remark, not taking it very seriously.
“I wish someone could uncover damaging evidence against Harvey Maxwell,” she declared. “But I fear he’s far too clever a man to be caught in anything dishonest. Sometime when you’re in the mood to hear a tale of woe, I’ll tell you how he is running things at Pine Top.”
“I’d like to learn everything I can about him,” responded Penny eagerly.
Mrs. Downey led the girl across the field to the road where the bob-sled and team of horses had been hitched. Jake, the handy man, appeared a moment later, loaded down with skis and luggage. Maxine Miller, Francine, and a well-dressed business man soon arrived and were helped into the sled.
“This is unique taxi service to say the least,” declared Francine, none too well pleased. “It must take ages to get up the mountain.”
“Not very long,” replied Mrs. Downey cheerfully.
Jake drove, with the hotel woman and her guests sitting on the floor of the sled, covered by warm blankets.
“Is it always so cold here?” shivered Miss Miller.
“Always at this time of year,” returned Mrs. Downey. “You’ll not mind it in a day or two. And the skiing is wonderful. We had six more inches of snow last night.”
Penny thoroughly enjoyed the novel experience of gliding swiftly over the hard-packed snow. The bobsled presently passed a large rustic building at the base of the mountain which Mrs. Downey pointed out as the Fergus hotel.
“I suppose all the rich people stay there,” commented Miss Miller. “Do you know if they have a guest named David Balantine?”
“The producer? Yes, I believe he is staying at the Fergus hotel.”
At the next bend Jake stopped the horses so that the girls might obtain a view of the valley.
“Over to the right is the village of Pine Top,” indicated Mrs. Downey. “Just beyond the Fergus hotel is the site of an old silver mine, abandoned many years ago. And when we reach the next curve you’ll be able to look north and see into Canada.”
A short ride on up the mountain brought the party to the Downey Lodge, a small but comfortable log building amid the pines. On the summit of a slope not far away they could see the figure of a skier, poised for a swift, downward flight.
Mrs. Downey assigned the guests to their rooms, tactfully establishing Penny and Francine at opposite ends of a long hall.
“Luncheon will be served at one o’clock,” she told them. “If you feel equal to it you’ll have time for a bit of skiing.”
“I believe I’ll walk down to the village and send a wire to Dad,” said Penny. “Then this afternoon I’ll try my luck on the slopes.”
“Just follow the road and you’ll not get lost,” instructed Mrs. Downey.
Penny unpacked her suitcase, and then set forth at a brisk walk for the village. She found the telegraph station without difficulty and dispatched a message to her father, telling him of Harvey Maxwell’s presence in Pine Top.
The town itself, consisting of half a dozen stores and twice as many houses, was soon explored. Before starting back up the mountain Penny thought she would buy a morning newspaper. But as she made inquiry at a drug store, the owner shook his head.
“We don’t carry them here. The only papers we get come in by plane. They’re all sold out long before this.”
“Oh, I see,” said Penny in disappointment, “well, next time I’ll try to come earlier.”
“I beg your pardon,” ventured a voice directly behind her. “Allow me to offer you my paper.”
Penny turned around to see that Ralph Fergus had entered the drugstore in time to hear her remark. With a most engaging smile, he extended his own newspaper.
“Oh, I don’t like to take your paper,” she protested, wishing to accept no favor however small from the man.
“Please do,” he urged, thrusting it into her hand. “I have finished with it.”
“Thank you,” said Penny.
She took the paper and started to leave the store. Mr. Fergus fell into step with her, following her outside.
“Going back up the mountain?” he inquired casually.
“Yes, I was.”
“I’ll walk along if you don’t mind having company.”
“Not at all.”
Penny studied Ralph Fergus curiously, fairly certain he had a special reason for wishing to walk with her. For a time they trudged along in silence, the snow creaking beneath their boots.
“Staying at the Downey Lodge?” Fergus inquired after awhile.
“Yes, I am.”
“Like it there?”
“Well, I only arrived on the morning plane.”
“Yes, I noticed you aboard,” he nodded. “Mrs. Downey is a very fine woman, a very fine woman, but her lodge isn’t modern. You noticed that, I suppose?”
“I’m not especially critical,” smiled Penny. “It seemed to suit my needs.”
“You’ll be more critical after you have stayed there a few days,” he warned. “The service is very poor. Even this little matter of getting a morning newspaper. Now our hotel sees that every guest has one shoved under his door before breakfast.”
“That would be very nice, I’m sure,” remarked Penny dryly. “You’re the manager of the hotel, aren’t you?”
Ralph Fergus gave her a quick, appraising glance. “Right you are,” he said jovially. “Naturally I think we have the finest hotel at Pine Top and I wish you would try it. I’ll be glad to make you a special rate.”
“You’re very kind.” It was a struggle for Penny to keep her voice casual. “I may drop around sometime and look the hotel over.”
“Do that,” he urged. “Here is my card. Just ask for me and I’ll show you about.”
Penny took the card and dropped it into her pocket. A few minutes later as they passed the Fergus hotel, her companion parted company with her.
“He thought I was an ordinary guest at Mrs. Downey’s,” Penny told herself. “Otherwise, he never would have dared to make such an open bid for my patronage.”
Upon returning to the lodge she told Mrs. Downey of her meeting with Ralph Fergus.
“It doesn’t surprise me one bit,” the woman replied angrily. “Fergus has been using every method he can think of to get my guests away from me. He has runners out all the time, talking up his hotel and talking mine down.”
Penny sat on the edge of the kitchen table, watching Mrs. Downey stir a great kettle of steaming soup.
“While I was coming here on the plane I heard Fergus and Maxwell speaking about you.”
“You did, Penny? What did they have to say? Nothing good, I’ll warrant.”
“I couldn’t understand what they meant at the time, but now I think I do. They said that nothing stood in their way except your place. Maxwell declared he would soon take care of you, and that he was on his way to Pine Top to show Fergus how such affairs were handled.”
Mrs. Downey kept on stirring with the big spoon. “So the screws are to be twisted a bit harder?” she asked grimly.
“Why do they want your place?” Penny inquired.
“Because I take a few of their guests away from them. If my lodge closed up they could raise prices sky high, and they would do it, too!”
“They offered me a special rate, whatever that means.”
“Fergus has been cutting his room rents lately for the sole purpose of getting my customers away from me. He makes up for it by charging three and even four dollars a meal. The guests don’t learn that until after they have moved in.”
“And there’s nothing you can do about it?”
Mrs. Downey shook her head. “I’ve been fighting with my back to the wall this past season. I don’t see how I possibly can make it another year. That is why I wanted you and your father to visit here before I gave up the place.”
“Dad might have helped you,” Penny said regretfully. “I’m sorry he wasn’t able to come.”
At one o’clock Mrs. Downey served a plain but substantial meal to fourteen guests who tramped in out of the snow. They called loudly for second and third helpings which were cheerfully given.
After luncheon Penny sat for a time about the crackling log fire and then she went to her room and changed into her skiing clothes.
“The nursery slopes are at the rear of the lodge,” Mrs. Downey told her as she went out through the kitchen. “But you’re much too experienced for them.”
“I haven’t been on skis for nearly two years.”
“It will come back to you quickly.”
“I thought I might taxi down and look over the Fergus hotel.”
“The trail is well marked. Just be careful as you get about half way down. There is a sharp turn and if you miss it you may find yourself wrapped around an evergreen.”
Penny went outside, and buckling on her skis, glided to the top of a long slope which fell rather sharply through lanes of pine trees to the wide valley below. As she was studying the course, reflecting that the crusted snow would be very fast, Francine came out of the lodge and stood watching her.
“What’s the matter, Penny?” she called. “Can’t you get up your nerve?”
Penny dug in her poles and pushed off. Crouching low, skis running parallel, she tore down the track. Pine trees crowded past on either side in a greenish blur. The wind whistled in her ears. She jabbed her poles into the snow to check her speed.
After the first steep stretch, the course flattened out slightly. From a cautious left traverse, a lifted stem turn gave her time to concentrate her full attention on the route ahead. She swerved to avoid a boulder which would have broken her ski had she crashed into it, and rode out a series of long, undulating hollows.
Gathering speed again, Penny made her decisions with lightning rapidity. There was no time to think. Confronted with a choice of turns, she chose the right hand trail, slashing through in a beautiful christiana. Too late, she realized her error.
Directly ahead loomed a barbed wire fence. There was no opportunity to turn aside. Penny knew that she must jump or take a disastrous fall.
Swinging her poles forward, she let them drop in the snow close to her ski tips. Crouching low she sprang upward with all her strength. The sticks gave her leverage so that she could lift her skis clear of the snow. Momentum carried her forward over the fence.
Penny felt the jar of the runners as they slapped on the snow. Then she lost her balance and tumbled head over heels.
Untangling herself, she sat up and gazed back at the barbed wire fence.
“I wish all my friends at Riverview could have seen that jump!” she thought proudly. “It was a beauty even if I did land wrong side up.”
A large painted sign which had been fastened to the fence, drew her attention. It read: “Skiers Keep Out.”
“I wonder if that means me?” remarked Penny aloud.
“Yes, it means you!” said an angry voice behind her.
Penny rolled over in the snow, waving her skis in the air. She drew in her breath sharply. An old man with a dark beard had stepped from the shadow of the pine trees, a gun grasped in his gnarled hands!
“Can’t you understand signs?” the old man demanded, advancing with cat-like tread from the fringe of pine trees.
“Not when I’m traveling down a mountain side at two hundred miles an hour!” Penny replied. “Please, would you mind pointing that cannon in some other direction? It might go off.”
The old man lowered the shotgun, but the grim lines of his wrinkled, leathery face did not relax.
“Get up!” he commanded, prodding her with the toe of his heavy boot. “Get out of here! I won’t have you or any other skier on my property.”
“Then allow me to make a suggestion,” remarked Penny pleasantly. “Put up another strand of barbed wire and you’ll have them all in the hospital!”
She sat up, gingerly felt of her left ankle and then began to brush snow from her jacket. “Did you see me make the jump?” she asked. “I took it just like a reindeer. Or do I mean a gazelle?”
“You made a very awkward jump!” he retorted. “I could have done better myself.”
Penny glanced up with genuine interest. “Oh, do you ski?”
By this time she no longer was afraid of the old man, if indeed she had ever been.
“No, I don’t ski!” he answered impatiently. “Now hurry up! Get those skis off and start moving! I’ll not wait all day.”
Penny began to unstrap the long hickory runners, but with no undue show of haste. She glanced curiously about the snowy field. An old shed stood not far away. Beside it towered a great stack of wood which reached nearly as high as the roof. Through the trees she caught a glimpse of a weather-stained log cabin with smoke curling lazily from the brick chimney.
As Penny was regarding it, she saw a flash of color at one of the windows. A girl who might have been her own age had her face pressed against the pane. Seeing Penny’s gaze upon her, she began to make motions which could not be understood.
The old man also turned his head to look toward the cabin. Immediately, the girl disappeared from the window.
“Is that where you live?” inquired Penny.
Instead of answering, the old man seized her by the hand and pulled her to her feet.
“Go!” he commanded. “And don’t let me catch you here again!”
Penny shouldered her skis and moved toward the fence.
“So sorry to have damaged your nice snow,” she apologized. “I’ll try not to trespass again.”
Crawling under the barbed wire fence, Penny retraced her way up the slope to the point on the trail where she had taken the wrong turn. There she hesitated and finally decided to walk on to the Fergus hotel.
“I wonder who that girl was at the window?” Penny reflected as she trudged along. “She looked too young to be Old Whisker’s daughter. And what was she trying to tell me?”
The problem was too deep for her to solve. But she made up her mind she would ask Mrs. Downey the name of the queer old man as soon as she returned to the lodge.
Reaching the Fergus hotel, Penny parked her skis upright in a snowbank near the front door, and went inside. She found herself in a long lobby at the end of which was a great stone fireplace with a half burned log on the hearth. Bellboys in green uniforms and brass buttons darted to and fro. A general stir of activity pervaded the place.
As Penny was gazing about, she saw Maxine Miller leave an elevator and come slowly across the lobby. The actress would not have seen her had she not spoken.
“How do you do, Miss Miller. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Oh, Miss Parker!” The actress’ face was the picture of despair. “I’ve had the most wretched misfortune!”
“Why, what has happened?” inquired Penny, although she thought she knew the answer to her question.
“I’ve just seen Mr. Balantine.” Miss Miller sagged into the depths of a luxuriously upholstered davenport and leaned her head back against the cushion.
“Your interview didn’t turn out as you expected?”
“He wouldn’t give me the part. Hateful old goat! He even refused to allow me to demonstrate how well I could read the lines! And he said some very insulting things to me.”
“That is too bad,” returned Penny sympathetically. “What will you do now? Go back home?”
“I don’t know,” the woman replied in despair. “I would stay if I thought I could change Mr. Balantine’s opinion. Do you think I could?”
“I shouldn’t advise it myself. Of course, I don’t know anything about Mr. Balantine.”
“He’s very temperamental. Perhaps if I kept bothering him he would finally give me a chance.”
“Well, it might be worth trying,” Penny said doubtfully. “But I think if I were you I would return home.”
“All of my friends will laugh at me. They thought it was foolish to come out here as it was. I can’t go back. I am inclined to move down to this hotel so I’ll be able to keep in touch with Mr. Balantine with less difficulty.”
“It’s a very nice looking hotel,” commented Penny. “Expensive, I’ve been told.”
“In the show business one must keep up appearances at all cost,” replied Miss Miller. “I believe I’ll inquire about the rates.”
While Penny waited, the actress crossed over to the desk and talked with a clerk. In a small office close by, Ralph Fergus and Harvey Maxwell could be seen in consultation. They were poring over a ledger, apparently checking business accounts.
Miss Miller returned in a moment. “I’ve taken a room,” she announced. “I can’t afford it, but I am doing it anyway.”
“Will you be able to manage?”
“Oh, I’ll run up a bill and then let them try to collect!”
Penny gazed at the actress with frank amazement.
“You surely don’t mean you would deliberately defraud the hotel?”
“Not so loud or the clerk will hear you,” Miss Miller warned. “And don’t use such an ugly word. If I land the part with Mr. Balantine, of course I’ll pay. If not—the worst they can do is to throw me out.”
Penny said no more but her opinion of Miss Miller had descended several notches.
“What are you doing here?” the actress inquired, quickly changing the subject.
“Oh, I just came down to look over the hotel. It’s very swanky, but I like Mrs. Downey’s place better.”
Miss Miller turned to leave. “I am going back there now to check out,” she declared. “Would you like to walk along?”
“No, thank you, I’ll just stay here and rest for a few minutes.”
Penny had no real purpose in coming to the Fergus hotel. She merely had been curious to see what it was like. Even a casual inspection made it clear that Mrs. Downey’s modest little lodge never could compete with such a luxurious establishment.
She studied the faces of the persons in the lobby. There seemed to be a strange assortment of people, including a large number of men and women who certainly had never been drawn to Pine Top by the skiing. Penny thought whimsically that it would be interesting to see some of the fat, pampered-looking ones take a tumble on the slippery slopes.
“But what is the attraction of this place, if not the skiing?” she puzzled. “There is no other form of entertainment.”
Presently, a well-fed lady in rustling black silk, her hand heavy with diamond rings, paused beside Penny.
“I beg your pardon,” she said, “can you tell me how to find the Green Room?”
“No, I can’t,” replied Penny. “I would need a map to get around in this hotel. You might ask at the desk.”
The woman fluttered over to the clerk and asked the same question.
“You have your card, Madam?” he inquired in a low tone.
“Oh, yes, to be sure. The manager presented it to me this morning.”
“Take the elevator to the second floor wing,” the man instructed. “Room 22. Show your card to the doorman and you will be admitted.”
Penny waited until after the woman had gone away. Then she arose and sauntered across the lobby. She picked up a handful of hotel literature but there was no mention of any Green Room. Pausing by the elevator, she waited until the cage was deserted of passengers before speaking to the attendant, a red headed boy of about seventeen.
“Where is the Green Room, please?”
“Second floor, Miss.”
“And what is it? A dining room?”
The attendant shot her a peculiar glance and gave an answer which was equally strange.
“It’s not a dining room. I can’t tell you what it is.”
“A cocktail room perhaps?”
“Listen, I told you I don’t know,” the boy answered.
“You work here, don’t you?”
“Sure I do,” he said with emphasis. “And I aim to keep my job for awhile. If you want to know anything about the Green Room ask at the desk!”
Before Penny could ask another question, the signal board flashed a summons, and the attendant slammed shut the door of the elevator. He shot the cage up to the fifth floor and did not return.
Hesitating a moment, Penny wandered over to the desk.
“How does one go about obtaining a card for the Green Room?” she inquired casually.
“You’re not a guest here?” questioned the clerk.
“No.”
“You’ll have to talk with the manager. Oh, Mr. Fergus!”
Penny had not meant to have the matter go so far, but there was no retreating. The hotel manager came out of his office, and recognizing her, smiled ingratiatingly.
“Ah, good afternoon, Miss—” He groped for her name but Penny did not supply it. “So you decided to pay us a visit after all.”
“This young lady asked about the Green Room,” said the clerk significantly.
Mr. Fergus bestowed a shrewd, appraising look upon Penny.
“Oh, yes,” he said to give himself more time, “Oh, yes, I see. What was it you wished to know?”
“How does one obtain a card of admission?”
“It is very simple. That is, if you have the proper recommendations and bank credit.”
“Recommendations?” Penny asked blankly. “Just what is the Green Room anyway?”
Ralph Fergus and the clerk exchanged a quick glance which was not lost upon the girl.
“I see you are not familiar with the little service which is offered hotel guests,” Mr. Fergus said suavely. “I shall be most happy to explain it to you at some later time when I am not quite so busy.”
He bowed and went hurriedly back into the office.
“I guess I shouldn’t have inquired about the Green Room,” Penny observed aloud. “There seems to be a deep mystery connected with it.”
“No mystery,” corrected the clerk. “If you will leave your name and address I am sure everything can be arranged within a few days.”
“Thank you, I don’t believe I’ll bother.”
Penny turned and nearly ran into Francine Sellberg. Too late, she realized that the girl reporter probably had been standing by the desk for some time, listening to her conversation.
“Hello, Francine,” she said carelessly.
The girl returned a haughty stare. “I don’t believe I know you, Miss,” she said, and walked on across the lobby.
Penny was rather stunned by the unexpected snub. She took a step as if to follow Francine and demand an explanation, but her sense of humor came to her rescue.
“Who cares?” she asked herself with a shrug. “If she doesn’t care to know me, it’s perfectly all right. I can manage to bear up.”
After Francine had left the hotel, Penny made up her mind that she would try to learn a little more about the Green Room. Her interest was steadily mounting and she could not imagine what “service” might be offered guests in this particular part of the hotel.
Choosing a moment when no one appeared to be watching, Penny mounted the stairway to the second floor. She followed a long corridor to its end but did not locate Room 22. Returning to the elevator, she started in the opposite direction. The numbers ended at 20.
While Penny was trying to figure it out, a group of four men and women came down the hall. They were well dressed individuals but their manner did not stamp them as persons of good breeding. One of the women who carried a jeweled handbag was talking in a loud, excited tone:
“Oh, Herbert, wait until you see it! I shall weep my eyes out if you don’t agree to buy it for me at once. And the price! Ridiculously cheap! We’ll never run into bargains like these in New York.”
“We’ll see, Sally,” replied the man. “I’m not satisfied yet that this isn’t a flim-flam game.”
He opened a door which bore no number, and stood aside for the others to pass ahead of him. Penny caught a glimpse of a long, empty hallway.
“That must be the way to Room 22,” she thought.
She waited until the men and women had gone ahead, and then cautiously opened the door which had closed behind them. No one questioned her as she moved noiselessly down the corridor. At its very end loomed a green painted door, its top edge gracefully circular. Beside it at a small table sat a man who evidently was stationed there as a guard.
Penny walked slowly, watching the men and women ahead. They paused at the table and showed slips of cardboards. The guard then opened the green door and allowed them to pass through.
It looked so very easy that Penny decided to try her luck. She drew closer.
“Your card please,” requested the doorman.
“I am afraid I haven’t mine with me,” said Penny, flashing her most beguiling smile.
The smile was entirely lost upon the man. “Then I can’t let you in,” he said.
“Not even if I have lost my card?”
“Orders,” he answered briefly. “You’ll have no trouble getting another.”