“Dad!” shouted Penny. “Can you get me down from this pigeon roost?”
Mr. Parker, separating from the others, came to the foot of the bell tower.
“So it was you who sounded the alarm!” he exclaimed. “I might have known! How did you get up there?”
“I’m locked in. Dad, send the police to help Jerry. He’s after Al Gepper who rode off in my car.”
The police cruiser was dispatched, leaving one officer to guard the two prisoners. Mr. Parker unlocked the door of the tower room, releasing his daughter.
“You’re all right?” he asked anxiously.
“Of course. Here’s a little present for you.” Penny thrust the wooden box into his hands.
“What’s this?”
“I don’t know yet. I found it hidden in the belfry.”
“Penny, if you fell into a river you would come up with a chest of gold!” exclaimed the publisher admiringly.
“Open it quick, Dad.”
Mr. Parker required no urging. The box was locked but he pried off the cover hinges, exposing the contents.
“A real treasure!” exclaimed Penny.
The box contained several bracelets, one of them set with rubies and diamonds, countless rings, four watches, and several strings of matched pearls.
“Stolen loot!” ejaculated the publisher.
“And what a collection!” chuckled Penny as she examined the separate pieces. “There’s enough plunder here to start a jewelry store.”
“Likewise sufficient evidence to put this Celestial Temple gang out of circulation for a long, long time,” added her father.
“I learned a lot tonight, Dad. Wait until I tell you!”
“A scoop for theStar?”
“You’ll be able to use your largest, blackest headlines.”
Penny began to tell her story, interrupting only when Slippery and Pete were brought into the building handcuffed together. Starting again, she made her charges, accusing Slippery not only of having committed the Henley burglary, but also of having robbed the Kohls and many prominent Riverview families.
After inspecting the jewelry found in the wooden box, one of the police officers definitely identified several of the pieces as stolen goods. He expressed an opinion that the jewelry had been hidden in the belfry because it was too “hot” to be disposed of by fences.
“The organization members had an agreement by which all shared in the loot,” added Penny. “That caused trouble. Al Gepper and Slippery thought they were taking most of the risk without sufficient return. So they pulled a few extra jobs of their own.”
Before she could reveal more, the police car was heard outside the Temple. From the window Penny saw that Jerry and the policeman were returning with Al Gepper who had been handcuffed.
“They’ve caught him!” she cried jubilantly.
The prisoner was brought into the Temple to be identified. He had been captured when Leaping Lena had stalled for lack of gasoline.
As Gepper was searched, the silken ladder, and various small objects were removed from his coat. Penny noticed two tiny rubber suction cups no larger than dimes, and immediately made up her mind that later she would try to obtain them. She was quite certain she knew their purpose.
Penny told her story and learned, in turn, that after she had telephoned Jerry, he had traced her father, and with the police both had hastened to the Hodges’ cottage. Arriving there, they discovered that Gepper had fled. Jerry, Mr. Parker, and Salt Sommers had immediately proceeded to the Celestial Temple.
“It was lucky you rang that bell, Penny,” chuckled Jerry. “If you hadn’t, we never would have arrived here in time.”
“It was lucky, too, that Mr. Gepper tried to escape in Lena,” she laughed. “I guess my old rattle-trap has redeemed itself.”
One of the officers picked up the silken ladder, examining it with critical interest. He agreed that it had undoubtedly been used in many mysterious burglaries committed during the past month.
“It’s obvious that Slippery approached the houses on the ‘blind’ side, and scaled the wall after hooking his ladder into a window ledge,” Penny remarked. “I suppose he reasoned that second-story windows nearly always are left unlocked. But how did he learn the houses were deserted? By telephoning?”
“That would be my opinion,” nodded the policeman. “If someone answered, he could hang up. Otherwise, he would be fairly sure the house was empty.”
“One night at the theatre I saw a man who resembled Slippery noting down the license number of the Kohl car. But the house was robbed within a few hours after that. How could he have obtained the name and address?”
“Easily. There are ‘information fences’ who supply such data to fellow members of the underworld. It is also possible that Slippery previously had watched the Kohl house, obtained the car license number, and then watched for it later at the theatre.”
Jerry already had supplied police with the name of the fence whose establishment Slippery had visited earlier in the day. Later, a raid staged there brought to light much loot taken from various Riverview homes.
However, for the moment, police were most interested in gaining complete information which could be used in rounding up all members of the Celestial Temple Society who had not fled the city.
Searching Slippery they found, not only jewelry stolen from the Henley residence, but a booklet containing many names and telephone numbers.
“Sadie Beardsell,” Penny read. “She’s one of the members, I am sure.”
Lest Mr. and Mrs. Hodges might also be arrested, she explained that the old couple had been an innocent dupe of Al Gepper. Turning to the medium she said:
“I think I know how you accomplished most of your tricks. Of course, you were the one who sent Mrs. Hodges a letter with six dollars. Undoubtedly, you had it mailed by an accomplice from New York at exactly the hour you specified. Then at that same hour you slipped up to the Hodges’ cottage, and rapped six times on the bedroom wall.”
“You seem to have everything figured out,” Al Gepper responded sarcastically. “Clever girl!”
“I saw how you made the spirit painting tonight at the séance,” resumed Penny. “May I ask if that same method was used in regard to Mrs. Weem’s picture of Cousin David?”
She did not dream that the medium would answer her question. With a shrug which implied that the entire matter was very boring, he replied:
“No, the picture was painted with a solution of sulphocyanid of potassium and other chemicals, invisible until brought out with a re-agent. During the séance, an assistant sprayed the back of the canvas with an atomizer, bringing out the colors one by one.”
“And how was the paint made to appear wet?”
“Poppy oil.”
“One more question, Mr. Gepper. I never could understand how you were able to raise the kitchen table at Mrs. Hodges’ cottage.”
“No?” Al Gepper smiled mockingly. “I assure you I had nothing to do with that demonstration. It was a true spirit manifestation.”
“I’ll never believe that,” declared Penny.
“Then figure it out for yourself,” replied the medium. “You are such a very brilliant child.”
Before the prisoners were led to the police car, Salt Sommers set up his camera and took a number of flashlight pictures for theStar.
“How about it, Mr. Parker?” inquired Jerry eagerly. “Are we putting out an extra?”
“We are,” said the publisher crisply. “This is the big break I’ve been hoping we would get! We should beat theRecordon the story by at least a half hour.”
The three men hurriedly left the Celestial Temple, with Penny trailing behind them. At the main street intersection they finally obtained a taxicab.
“To theStaroffice,” Mr. Parker ordered. “An extra dollar if you step on it.”
“How about my pictures?” Salt Sommers asked, as the cab rocked around a corner. “They ought to be dandies.”
“Rush them through as soon as we get to the office,” Mr. Parker instructed. “If they’re any good we’ll run ’em on page one. Jerry, you handle the story—play it for all it’s worth.”
Jerry glanced at Penny who sat very still between her father and Salt. Their eyes met.
“Chief,” he said, “there’s a sort of fraternity among reporters—an unwritten rule that we never chisel on each other’s work.”
“What’s that?” Mr. Parker asked, startled. “I don’t get it.”
Then his glance fell upon his daughter, and he smiled.
“Oh, so it’s that way! You think Penny should write the story?”
“I do, Chief. It’s hers from the ground floor up.”
“Please, Dad, may I?” Penny pleaded.
The cab rolled up to theStaroffice, stopping with a jerk. Mr. Parker swung open the door, helping her alight.
“The story is yours, Penny,” he said. “That is, if you can crack it out fast enough to make the extra.”
“I’ll do it or die in the attempt.”
“Keep to the facts and write terse, simple English—” Mr. Parker began, but Penny did not wait to hear his instructions.
With a triumphant laugh, she ran ahead into theStaroffice. Her entry into the newsroom was both dramatic and noisy.
“Big scoop, Mr. DeWitt,” she called cheerily. “Start the old print factory running full blast!”
Dropping into a chair behind the nearest typewriter, she began to write.
Penny stood at the window of her father’s office, listening to the newsboys crying their wares on the street.
“Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Police Capture Three in Raid on Celestial Temple! Extra! Extra!”
Mr. Parker rocked back in his swivel chair, smiling at his daughter.
“Your story was first-class, Penny,” he said. “Thanks to you we scooped theRecord. Tired?”
“I do feel rather washed out,” Penny admitted. “Writing at high speed with a deadline jabbing you in the back is worse than facing a gang of crooks. But it was exciting.”
“You turned in a good story,” her father praised again. “In fact, you may as well take credit for breaking up that outfit of fake spiritualists.”
“So far the police have only captured Al Gepper, Slippery and Pete. There’s not much evidence against the others.”
“True, but rest assured those who aren’t rounded up will leave Riverview. The backbone of the organization has been smashed.”
Penny sank wearily into a chair, picking up a copy of theStarwhich lay on her father’s desk. Two-inch, black headlines proclaimed the capture, and opening from the banner was her own story tagged with a credit line:by Penelope Parker. Salt Sommer’s photographs had made the front page, too, and there was a brief contribution by Jerry telling of Al Gepper’s attempted flight in Leaping Lena.
“Dad, you must admit that it was a stroke of genius when I bought back that old car,” remarked Penny. “Why, if it hadn’t been for Lena, Al Gepper surely would have escaped.”
“That and the fact you always run your cars on an empty tank,” responded Mr. Parker. “I suppose you foresaw the future when you made your brilliant purchase?”
“Not exactly. It was just a feeling I had—the same sort of hunch which came to me when I found the silken ladder at Kano’s Curio Shop. If I depended upon a mere brain to solve mysteries, why I’d be no better than the police.”
“Your modesty overwhelms me,” chuckled her father. “I’m thankful my other reporters aren’t guided by their instincts. Otherwise I might have a scoop a day.”
“There’s one thing which annoys me,” Penny said, frowning.
“And what is that?”
“Two of Al Gepper’s tricks haven’t been explained. How was he able to raise a table and read a message in a sealed envelope?”
“I was talking to the Chief of Police about that letter trick only this morning, Penny. Magicians often employ it. Wasn’t the message written on a pad of paper before it was placed in the envelope?”
“Yes, it was.”
“Then very likely Gepper read the message from the pad. He could have placed carbon paper beneath the second or third sheets. Possibly he resorted to a thin covering of paraffin wax which would be less noticeable.”
“Now that I recall it, he did glance at the pad! How would you guess he lifted the table?”
“Were his hands held high above it, Penny?”
“Only an inch or two. However, he never touched the table. I was able to see that.”
“Could he have used sharp, steel pins held between his fingers?”
“I doubt it. But I think I know what he may have used! Did you notice two small suction cups which were taken from his pockets by the police?”
“Well, no, I didn’t, Penny.”
“The longer I mull over it, the more I’m convinced he used them to raise the table. They could be held between the fingers and wouldn’t be observed in a darkened room. Dad, if I can get those rubber cups from the police, I’ll have some fun!”
The telephone rang. It was Mrs. Weems calling to ask if Penny were safe. Mr. Parker replied in the affirmative and handed the receiver to his daughter.
“Penny, I just read your story in the paper,” the housekeeper scolded. “You never should have pitted yourself against those dangerous men! I declare, you need someone to watch you every minute.”
“I need you,” said Penny. “And so does Dad. Why not promise to stay with us instead of going away on a trip?”
“Of course, I’ll remain,” came Mrs. Weems’ surprising answer. “I made up my mind to that two days ago. You and your father never could take care of yourselves.”
“What will you do with your inheritance, Mrs. Weems?”
“I hope your father will invest it for me,” replied the housekeeper meekly. “One thing I know. No medium will tell me what to do with it.”
The hour was late. Penny felt relieved when her father locked his desk in preparation for leaving the office.
They walked through the newsroom, down the stairway to the street. A middle-aged man in a brown suit and derby hat alighted from a taxi, pausing as he saw them.
“Mr. Parker!” he called. “May I speak with you?”
The publisher turned, recognizing him. “Mr. Henley!” he exclaimed.
“I have just come from the police station,” the advertiser said in an agitated voice. “I was told that your daughter is responsible for the capture of the men who robbed our home tonight.”
“Yes, Penny managed to have a rather busy evening,” smiled Mr. Parker. “I hope you suffered no loss.”
“Everything was recovered, thanks to your daughter. Miss Parker, I realize I never can properly express my appreciation.”
“I was sorry I couldn’t prevent the burglary,” replied Penny stiffly. “As it turned out, the capture of the crooks was mostly due to luck.”
“You are too modest,” protested Mr. Henley. “I’ve talked with the police, you know. I am truly grateful.”
The man hesitated, evidently wishing to say more, yet scarcely knowing how to shape his words. Penny and her father started to move away.
“Oh, about that contract we were discussing today,” the advertiser said quickly.
“Yes?” Mr. Parker paused.
“I’ve been thinking it over. I acted too hastily in deciding to cancel.”
“Mr. Henley, please do not feel that you are under obligation,” said the publisher quietly. “Even though Penny accidentally did you a favor—”
“It’s not that,” Mr. Henley interrupted. “TheStaris a good paper.”
“The best in Riverview,” said Penny softly.
“Yes, it is!” Mr. Henley declared with sudden emphasis. “I tell you, Parker, I was irritated because of a trivial mistake in my firm’s copy. I’ve cooled off now. Suppose we talk over the matter tomorrow at lunch.”
“Very well,” agreed Mr. Parker. “The Commodore Hotel at one.”
Bowing to Penny, Mr. Henley retreated into a waiting taxi and drove away.
“How do you like that, Dad?” Penny inquired after a moment’s silence.
“I like it,” answered Mr. Parker. “TheStarcould have limped along without Mr. Henley. But the going would have been tough.”
“He’ll renew the old contract?”
“Oh, yes, and probably give us a better one. Stealing Mr. Henley’s words, I am truly grateful.”
Penny gazed at her father with twinkling eyes.
“Are those idle words, Dad? Or are you willing to back them in a material way?”
“I might,” grinned Mr. Parker. “Present your bill.”
“Well, Dad, I’ve discovered to my sorrow that I can’t support two cars on my present allowance. I need a generous raise.”
“You could get rid of Lena.”
“Why, Dad! After her noble work tonight!”
“No, I suppose not,” sighed Mr. Parker. “You’ve earned an increase, and I may as well grant it.”
“Retroactive to the time I started working on the story,” added Penny. “I figure if you pay back allowance, I’ll be solvent once more!”
“You drive a hard bargain,” chuckled the publisher. “But I’ll agree.”
Arm in arm, they started on down the street. Rounding a corner of theStarbuilding they abruptly paused before the plate-glass window to watch a long, unbroken sheet of white paper feed through the thundering press. Freshly inked newspapers, cut and folded, slid out one upon the other to be borne away for distribution.
“It’s modern magic, isn’t it, Dad?” Penny said reflectively as the great machine pounded in steady rhythm.
“Yes, Penny,” her father agreed. “And for this edition, at least, you were the master magician!”
THE END