“I won’t, Mr. DeWitt, but I did wish to see Dad.”
“Anything I can do for you?”
Penny hesitated. “Well, I wanted to talk to him about something I learned today at the Celestial Temple.”
“Oh, yes,” nodded the city editor, his attention on a sheet of copy. “Mr. Parker is handling the campaign personally. Sorry I can’t be of service.”
Rather startled by DeWitt’s unusual politeness, Penny glanced hopefully toward Jerry Livingston’s desk. It was littered with papers, but quite deserted.
With a sigh she left the building and walked to Dorr Street where she had left her maroon car. Upon reaching home she found that Mrs. Weems was not there and she had forgotten her own key. For a time she sat disconsolately on the front porch. Then she decided to go to the Hudell Garage where Leaping Lena had been left for repairs three days earlier.
The car was ready, and with it a bill for eight dollars and forty-two cents.
“I’ll have to give you a dollar on account and pay the remainder next week,” said Penny. “Or would you rather keep the car as a deposit?”
“Give me the dollar,” said the garage man hastily.
Penny became even more depressed as she drove the automobile home. Not for the world would she openly admit that she had made a mistake in repurchasing Lena. Secretly she acknowledged that two cars were an unbearable financial drain upon slender resources.
Turning into her own street, Penny saw Mrs. Weems walking toward home, and stopped for her.
“I’ve just come from the Hodges’,” the housekeeper commented, climbing into the car.
“You have?” inquired Penny eagerly. “Did you learn anything?”
“No, I didn’t. Mr. Gepper seemed very unwilling to conduct another séance. He acted so different this time—almost as if he bore me a personal grudge.”
“He’s probably provoked because your inheritance eluded him.”
“He did tell Mrs. Hodges that he doubted I had any money,” Mrs. Weems responded.
“What happened at the séance?”
“Why, nothing. The table moved and we heard a few raps. That was all.”
“No message from Cousin David?”
“Not a word or a sign. Mr. Gepper seemed very indifferent about it all. He said he couldn’t give me another appointment unless I paid for it.”
“What do you think about him now?” Penny asked curiously. “Don’t you agree with Dad and me that he was after your money?”
“Yes, I was very silly,” the housekeeper acknowledged. “Mrs. Hodges has begun to lose faith in him, too. She says he’s been bringing all sorts of folks to her place. When she told him she didn’t care to have the house over-run with strangers, he became very unpleasant.”
“You mean he threatened her?”
“In a mild way. He told her that he would stay as long as he pleased and she could do nothing about it. Mrs. Hodges is afraid to go to the police for fear she’ll be arrested with Mr. Gepper.”
“I wonder if he ever has charged for his séances?” Penny said thoughtfully.
“I am sure he has, Penny. Of course I have no proof.”
“Mrs. Weems, you must go there again this afternoon,” Penny urged. “Insist upon another séance, and pay him for it! Then you’ll be able to testify as a witness against him!”
“But I don’t wish to go into court,” the housekeeper protested. “Besides, Mr. Gepper won’t be at the cottage this afternoon.”
“Where is he going?” Penny questioned alertly.
“I don’t know. I heard him tell Mrs. Hodges he would be gone this afternoon, but would return for an eight o’clock séance.”
“Why, that’s fine—wonderful!” chuckled Penny.
Mrs. Weems gazed at the girl with sudden suspicion. “Now what have you thought up?” she demanded.
“Nothing alarming,” grinned Penny. “I merely plan to visit Mr. Gepper’s studio during his absence. Who knows, I may yet master a few of the finer points of ghost-making!”
Despite Mrs. Weems’ protests, Penny remained firm in her decision to investigate Mr. Gepper’s studio. She ate a belatedly prepared lunch and did not reach the Hodges’ cottage until nearly four o’clock, having driven there in Lena.
The doors were closed and Penny knocked several times without receiving a response.
“Everyone must have gone away,” she thought. “Oh, dear, now what shall I do?”
Penny reasoned that it was of vital importance for her to inspect Al Gepper’s room during his absence. She might never have another opportunity. Yet she hesitated to enter the house while the Hodges were away, even though she felt certain the seamstress would not mind.
Walking to the rear, Penny noticed that the porch screen had been left unfastened. Entering the kitchen, she called Mrs. Hodges’ name but received no answer.
“If I wait for her to come home it may be too late,” decided Penny. “This is an emergency.”
Her mind made up, she took the stairs two at a time to Al Gepper’s room. Her knock went unanswered. Satisfied that he was not there, she tried the door and found it unlocked.
Penny raised a blind to flood light into the darkened room. Save that a film of dust covered the furniture, everything was approximately the same as she had last seen it.
Her gaze fell upon two suitcases which had been pushed beneath the bed. The first contained only miscellaneous clothing. The second merited a more careful inspection.
Almost at once Penny came upon an old faded picture, the one of Cousin David which Mrs. Weems had given to the photographer’s “agent.”
“So that was how it was done!” she thought. “Al Gepper sent one of his confederates to see Mrs. Weems and obtain information about her cousin. The painting which appeared so miraculously during the séance was merely a copy of this! Even so, how was it painted so quickly?”
Forgetting the picture for a moment, Penny picked up several newspaper clippings which were fastened together with a rubber band. All had been taken from the obituary column and concerned the death of well-to-do Riverview persons.
“Al Gepper and his pals are ghouls!” Penny told herself. “They prey upon the relatives of persons who have died, realizing that at such a time it will be much easier to interest them in trying to communicate with the departed!”
Lifting a tray from the suitcase, her attention focused upon a small red booklet. As she turned rapidly through it, a folded sheet of paper fell to the floor.
Examining it, Penny saw a long list of names, together with pertinent information about each person. Not only was the address and financial standing of the individual given, but the deceased relatives in each family and other facts of a personal nature. The list had been mimeographed.
“This must be a ‘sucker’ list!” thought Penny. “No wonder it’s easy for a medium to find victims and tell them astonishing facts.”
Thrusting the paper into her pocket, she turned her attention to the wardrobe closet. Al Gepper’s clothes hung in orderly rows from the hangers. Behind them, half hidden from view, was a small box.
Pulling it to the window, Penny examined the contents. There were many bottles filled with chemicals, the names of which were unfamiliar. She noted a bottle of varnish, another of zinc white, and some photographic paper in a sealed envelope.
A glance satisfying her, she replaced the box and next turned her attention to the cabinet behind the large circular table. Here she was richly rewarded as her gaze fell upon a banjo.
“The same one which played during Mrs. Weems’ séance!” she thought. “We were able to see it in the dark because it’s covered with luminous paint. But what made it rise into the air, and how could it play without the aid of human hands?”
Penny examined the instrument closely. She chuckled as she discovered a tiny phonograph with a record built into its back side. As she pressed a control lever, it began a stringed version of “Down Upon the Swanee River.”
Quickly turning it off, she inspected other objects in the cabinet. At once she found a rod which could be extended to a height of five feet.
“That’s how the banjo was raised!” she reasoned. “And by use of this rod it would be easy to make a ghost appear to float high overhead. This luminous material must have been used.”
Penny picked up a filmy robe, shaking out the many folds. While it was clear to her that Al Gepper had employed the garment to materialize the so-called spirit of Cousin David, she could only guess how he had made it enlarge from a mere spot to a full sized figure.
“He must have wadded the cloth in his hand, and held it above his head,” she mused. “Then he could have slowly shaken it out until it covered his entire body. Thus the figure would appear to grow in size.”
In one corner of the cabinet Penny came upon a luminous slate.
“This was used for Cousin David’s message,” she thought. “Al probably had an assistant who wrote on it and thrust it through the curtain.”
While many questions remained unanswered, Penny had obtained sufficient evidence to indicate that Al Gepper was only a clever trickster. Greatly elated, she decided to hasten to theStaroffice to report her findings.
Noticing that she had neglected to return the two suitcases to their former places, Penny pushed them under the bed again. As she straightened, a door slammed on the lower floor.
For an instant she hoped that it was Mrs. Hodges or her husband who had come home. Then she heard footsteps on the stairs, and their rapidity warned her that they could belong only to a young person.
Frantically, she gazed about the room. The cabinet seemed to offer the safest hiding place. Slipping into it, she pulled the black curtain across the opening.
Scarcely had Penny hidden herself when Al Gepper entered the room. With him was the hook-nosed young man known as Slippery.
“I tell you, Al,” the latter was saying, “this town is getting too hot for comfort. We’ve got to blow.”
“It was that Parker girl who queered everything,” muttered Gepper. “How could I know that her father was a newspaper publisher? He’s stirred up folks with his editorials.”
“You never should have let her in here. We had a swell set-up, but now we can expect a raid any day.”
“I tell you I thought she was just a smart-aleck kid, a friend of the Hodges’. Didn’t learn until yesterday who she was.”
“We’ve got to blow, Al. Sade’s threatening to make trouble, too. She thinks we’re holding out on the others.”
“We have picked up a little extra coin now and then.”
“Sure, Al, but we’ve always been the brains of the outfit. We take most of the risk, plan all the big jobs, so why shouldn’t we have more?”
“It’s time we cut loose from ’em, Slippery.”
“Now you’re talking! But we can’t pull out until the Henley job comes off. I’ve had a tip that the house is likely to be deserted tonight. Let’s make the haul and then skip.”
“Okay,” agreed Gepper. “I have some suckers coming for a séance at eight. I’ll get rid of them in quick time, and be waiting. So long, Slippery.”
A door slammed, telling Penny that the hook-nosed man had left. She was somewhat stunned by what she had overheard, believing that the Henley who had been mentioned must be her father’s chief advertiser.
Nervously she waited inside the cabinet, wishing that she might take her information to the police. To her intense annoyance, Al Gepper did not leave the room even for a moment.
Instead he threw himself on the bed and read a tabloid newspaper. After an hour, he arose and began to prepare his supper on an electric grill.
Penny shifted from one position to another, growing more impatient. Every time the man came toward the cabinet her heart beat a trifle faster. She was quite sure the Hodges had not yet returned home, and should Al Gepper discover her, he would not treat her kindly.
The medium finished his supper and stacked the dishes in the closet without washing them. Then he started to get ready for the night’s séance.
Peeping from between the cracks of the curtain, Penny saw him seat himself before the easel. With painstaking care he painted a picture of a woman, using a photograph as a model. After a coating of varnish had been applied, he allowed it to dry and afterwards covered the entire picture with zinc white. The original painting was entirely hidden.
Penny knew that hours had elapsed. The room gradually darkened, and Al Gepper turned on the lights.
“Oh, dear, I must get out of here soon!” the girl thought desperately. “But if I make a break for it he’ll be sure to see me. That will ruin all my plans.”
Eight o’clock came. Al Gepper put on his coat, combed his hair and was alertly waiting when the doorbell rang. However, instead of descending the stairs he shouted an invitation for the visitors to come up.
Two women in their early forties were ushered into the séance chamber, to be followed almost immediately by an elderly man.
“We will start at once if you please,” said Al Gepper brusquely. “I have another engagement tonight. However, before the séance is undertaken I must ask that each of you pay the required fee, five dollars.”
The money was paid, and the three persons seated themselves at the table. Gepper switched off the lights.
The séance began in much the same manner as the one Penny had attended. The medium called upon the spirit of a woman named Flora to appear.
“Now concentrate hard—everyone,” he instructed. “Flora, where are you? Can you not show yourself that we may know it is truly your spirit which communicates with us?”
From the cabinet, so close to Al Gepper that she could have touched his hand, Penny was able to see his every move. Yet so swift was his next action, that she barely discerned it.
Taking a wet sponge from his pocket he wiped it across the painting previously prepared. The picture immediately became visible to the audience as Gepper focused his flashlight on the canvas.
“That wasn’t the way he made Mrs. Weems’ picture appear,” thought Penny. “The fellow must have a great repertoire of tricks!”
The séance had become so interesting that she no longer thought of escape. Nevertheless, she came to a sudden realization of her precarious position as she heard the medium say that he would next endeavor to persuade the Spirit of Flora to take actual shape. With a shock it dawned upon her that in another moment the man would enter the cabinet to make use of the luminous gauze robe and other paraphernalia.
Knowing that she could not hide from him, Penny decided upon a bold break for freedom. Dropping the ghostly robe over her face and shoulders, she pulled aside the dark curtain and flitted into the room.
Her dramatic entrance brought gasps of astonishment from the persons who sat at the circular table. The medium, as dumbfounded as his audience muttered: “What the dickens!” and pushed back his chair, his legs rasping on the floor.
Penny did not linger, but darted past the group and groped for the door. In the darkness she could not immediately find it. Her shining robe, on the other hand, made her an easy target for Al Gepper.
Angrily the medium strode across the room, seizing her arm. She jerked away, but he grasped a fold of the robe. It tore and was left behind.
At that critical instant, Penny’s hand encountered the door. She swung it open, and bounded down the stairway.
In the séance chamber a light went on, then the hallway became brilliantly illuminated. But by that time the girl was in the dining room.
She could hear Al Gepper clattering down the steps, intent upon capturing her. Penny was determined that he should never learn her identity.
Letting herself out of the house by way of the kitchen door, she decided that if she attempted to cross the yard, the medium certainly would recognize her. The woodpile offered a hiding place and she crouched behind it.
Scarcely had she secreted herself, when Al Gepper ran into the yard. He glanced about carefully and circled the house twice.
Finally, convinced that the “ghost” had escaped he came back to the porch. His customers, greatly agitated by what had occurred, were demanding explanations.
“Someone played a prank,” Gepper explained briefly. “It will be impossible to resume the séance for the spirits are offended. You will leave, please.”
The customers departed and the medium locked himself in the house. He did not bother to lower the upstairs hall blind, and Penny caught occasional glimpses of him as he moved to and fro.
“He’s packing to leave!” she observed. “Unless I act in double-quick time, he’ll skip town! I must notify Dad and the police without an instant’s delay!”
The nearest drugstore with a public telephone was two blocks away. Penny ran the distance, and slipping into the booth, she dialed theStaroffice. 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!”
Penny tried to scream, only to have Al Gepper clamp his hand over her mouth.
“None of that!” he said harshly. “Behave yourself or you’ll get rough treatment.”
Inside the Temple, lights suddenly were turned on, for the brief struggle had been heard by Pete. The squat, stupid-faced man appeared in the doorway of the building, peering down the lane.
“Who’s there?” he demanded suspiciously.
Al Gepper uttered an angry word beneath his breath. It was not to his liking that Pete should be drawn into the affair. However, he could not avoid detection.
“It’s Al!” he called softly. “This girl broke up my séance tonight, and I trailed her here. She was prowling around the bell tower.”
As he spoke, he dragged Penny toward the Temple entrance. His words convinced her that he had not observed her remove the silken ladder from the belfry wall, nor was he aware that Slippery was a prisoner in the tower.
“Let’s have a look at her,” said Pete. He flashed a light directly into Penny’s face.
“She’s the Parker girl—daughter of the publisher,” informed Al.
“Yeah,” commented Pete. “I saw her at one of our meetings. Another girl was with her. How much has she learned?”
“Enough to get us all run out of town. The question is, what shall we do with her?”
“Bring her inside, and we’ll talk it over,” said Pete. “Maybe we ought to call a meeting.”
“No,” replied Al Gepper impatiently, shoving Penny through the doorway. “We can take care of this ourselves.”
The door was locked from the inside. Al pushed Penny into a chair on the front platform.
“Now sit there,” he ordered. “One peep out of you and we’ll tie you up and tape your mouth. Understand?”
“Oui, oui, Monsieur,” said Penny, mockingly.
The two men stepped a few paces away and began to whisper together. Pete seemed to protest at Al’s proposals.
Penny watched them uneasily, speculating upon their final decision. Whatever it was, she would never be given an opportunity to report to the police until it was too late to apprehend members of the Temple.
“I was stupid not to realize that Gepper might trail me,” she told herself. “If only I had used an ounce of caution, I might have brought about the capture of the entire gang. Not to mention a grand scoop for Dad’s paper.”
Penny slumped lower in her chair. Her own predicament concerned her far less than the knowledge that she had bungled a golden opportunity.
Speculatively, her gaze shifted toward the bell tower room. The door was closed and she believed that it must be locked. There was no sound from the belfry, adding to her conviction that the man imprisoned there was fearful of attracting attention to his plight.
Al Gepper and Pete came toward her. With no explanation, the medium seized her arm and ordered her to walk toward the exit.
“Where are you taking me?” Penny asked.
“Never mind. You’ll find out in good time.”
“Wait!” exclaimed Penny, bracing her legs and refusing to be pushed. “If you’ll let me go, I’ll tell you something very much worth your while.”
Deliberately, she allowed the silken ladder to slip from beneath her coat. The men would not have heeded her words, but the familiar object served its purpose.
“Where did you get that ladder?” demanded Al Gepper.
“So you would like to know what became of your friend, Slippery?” responded Penny evenly. “You’ll be surprised when I tell you that he has double-crossed you both!”
“You’re lying,” accused Gepper.
Penny shrugged and did not speak.
“What were you going to say?” Gepper prodded in a moment. “Out with it! How did you get Slippery’s ladder?”
“It fell into my hands, literally and figuratively.”
“Stalling for time will get you nowhere,” snapped Gepper, losing patience. “If you know anything about Slippery spill it fast or you’ll not have another chance.”
“Your friend tried to double-cross you,” declared Penny. She decided to make a shrewd guess. “Tonight, after he robbed the Henley home he came here intending to loot the bell tower.”
“Why, the dirty sneak!” exclaimed Pete.
“Weren’t you here on guard all evening?” Gepper demanded, turning to him.
“Sure, I was. I never set foot outside the building.”
“Slippery wasn’t here?”
“Haven’t seen him since yesterday morning.”
“Then the girl is lying!”
“Oh, no, the girl isn’t,” refuted Penny. “If you care for proof you’ll find it in the tower.”
“Proof?”
“I mean Slippery. He’s hiding in the belfry now, hoping you’ll not discover him there. You see, he scaled the wall by means of this silk ladder. I removed the ladder, and I assume he’s still up there.”
“Why, the low-down skunk!” Pete exclaimed wrathfully. “So he planned to rob us! I’ll get him!”
Leaving Al to watch Penny, the guard ran to the tower room door and unlocked it. Stealthily he crept up the iron stairway which led to the belfry.
Suddenly those below heard a cry of rage, followed by the sound of scuffling. Al Gepper listened tensely, yet made no move to join the fight. He remained standing between Penny and the outside door.
“You were right,” he admitted in a stunned voice. “Slippery’s up there. He meant to get all the swag for himself.”
The fight increased in intensity as the two men struggled on the belfry steps. Over and over they rolled, first one delivering a hard blow, and then the other. Still locked, they finally toppled to the floor, but even then Al Gepper remained a bystander.
Penny was less concerned with the fight than with thoughts of escape. She had hoped that Al, too, would join the battle. Apparently, he was taking no chance of letting her get away.
She considered attempting a sudden break for freedom, but immediately abandoned it. The outside door had been locked by Pete. Before she could turn the key, Al would be upon her. As for the windows, none were open. While they might not be locked, it was out of the question to reach one quickly enough.
Penny’s gaze roved to the tower room once more, and the struggling men. High above their heads she saw something which previously had not drawn her attention. It was a loop of rope, hanging from the belfry.
“Why, that must be attached to the old church bell!” thought Penny. “If only I could reach it, I might be able to bring help here.”
However, the rope dangled high overhead. Even if she were able to reach the room leading to the tower, there was nothing upon which she could stand to grasp the loop. Obviously the rope had been cut short years before to prevent anyone from ringing the bell.
Penny glanced toward Al Gepper. The medium’s gaze was upon the two struggling men, not her. A golden opportunity presented itself, if only she had the wits to make use of it.
Almost at the girl’s feet lay the tangle of silken ladder. As she stared at it, a sudden idea took possession of her. The iron hooks would serve her purpose, but dared she try it? If she failed—and the chances were against her—punishment would be certain.
Yet, if she did nothing and merely waited, it was likely that Al Gepper and his pals never would be brought to justice. She must take the chance, no matter how great the personal risk.
For a moment Penny remained inactive, planning what she must do. If she made a single mistake, fumbled at the critical instant, everything would be lost. Above all, her aim must be accurate. If she missed the loop—
Slippery and Pete were beginning to tire, their blows becoming futile and ineffective. Further delay in executing her plan only increased the danger. She must act now or never.
Her mind made up, Penny no longer hesitated. With a quick movement she seized the silken ladder and darted to the doorway of the bell tower.
“Hey!” shouted Al Gepper, starting after her.
Penny slammed the door in his face. Taking careful aim, she hurled the silken ladder upward. One of the iron hooks caught in the loop of the rope. She jerked on it, and to her joy, the bell began to ring.
Penny pulled the rope again and again, causing the huge bell to sway back and forth violently. It rang many times before Al Gepper succeeded in opening the tower room door.
His face was crimson with fury when he seized the girl, hurling her away from the rope. With one quick toss he released the hooks of the silken ladder, stuffing the soft strands beneath his coat. The bell made a final clang and became silent.
Penny retreated against the wall, anticipating severe punishment for her act. However, Al and his companions were more concerned with thoughts of escape than with her.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” muttered Al. “Come on!”
The two men on the floor had ceased their struggles. Painfully they regained their feet. In this sudden emergency they had forgotten their differences.
“What shall we do about the box in the tower?” Pete demanded, nursing a swollen eye.
“Leave it here,” returned Al. “We can’t save anything now. The police are apt to swoop down on us any minute.”
Turning, he fled to the street. Pete and Slippery hesitated, then followed. Penny heard a key turn in the lock. Even before she tested the door she knew she had been imprisoned in the tower room.
“They’ve escaped after all,” she thought dismally. “But I may have saved some of the loot. I’ll take a look.”
Quickly she climbed the iron stairs to the belfry. From the turret she obtained a perfect view of the entire Lane. Al Gepper was running down the street, while Pete and Slippery had turned toward the cemetery.
There were no other persons in the vicinity, Penny thought at first glance. Then her heart leaped as she saw three men entering the Lane at its junction with the main street. They, too, were running.
“They must have heard the bell!” she told herself. “Oh, if only I can make them understand what has happened!”
Her best means of attracting attention was by ringing the bell. She pushed against it and was rewarded by a deafening clang.
The men stopped short, staring toward the belfry. Penny cupped her hands and shouted. Her words did not carry plainly, but the newcomers seemed to gain an inkling of what was amiss, for they wheeled and began to pursue the two who had taken refuge in the cemetery.
From her high perch, Penny saw Al Gepper nearing the end of the Lane, unobserved by all save herself. Tapping the bell again, she called:
“Get him, too! At the end of the street!”
One of the pursuers halted, turning toward the tower. In the moonlight Penny saw his face and recognized Jerry Livingston. He was close enough now to hear her voice.
“It’s Al Gepper!” she shouted. “Don’t let him escape!”
The reporter turned, but as he started off in the new direction, both he and Penny saw the fleeing man climbing into Leaping Lena. With a grinding of gears, he drove away. Jerry stopped, thinking that he never could overtake the car.
“Keep after him, Jerry!” encouraged Penny. “The gas tank is almost empty. He can’t possibly go more than three or four blocks!”
As the reporter again took up the chase, she began tolling the bell once more, determined to arouse everyone within a mile of the Temple.
Her energy was rewarded, for in another minute she heard the familiar wail of a siren. A police cruiser swerved alongside the tower, stopping with a lurch.
“What’s the idea of ringing that bell?” demanded an officer, leaping to the ground.
Tersely Penny explained the situation. The two policemen took a short-cut through a vacant lot, circling the cemetery. Darkness swallowed them, but presently there came a muffled command to halt, followed by a revolver shot.
So excited was Penny that she nearly tumbled from the bell tower. Recovering her balance, she sat on the stone ledge, trying to remain calm. Her nerves were jumpy and on edge.
“If only Jerry captures Al Gepper—that’s all I ask!” she breathed.
As the minutes elapsed, it occurred to her that she had not yet searched for the loot which she believed to be hidden in the belfry. With questing fingers she groped beneath the ledge. For a short distance she felt nothing. Then she encountered a long wooden box.
Before she could open it, she heard shouts from the direction of the cemetery. Four men, two of them police officers, were marching Slippery and Pete toward the Temple. As they came nearer she received another pleasant surprise. The two who had aided in the capture were her father and Salt Sommers, a photographer for theStar.